ON MAKING MARTIAL ARTS MORE SCIENTIFIC

科學化的國術
SCIENTIFIC MARTIAL ARTS
吳志青
by Wu Zhiqing
[originally published as 應用武術中國新體操 Using Martial Arts to Make China’s New Calisthenics in 1919/1920, (known more commonly as just 中國新體操 China’s New Calisthenics), then published in serialized form in 武術 Martial Arts Magazine as 應用科學之國術 Applying Science to Martial Arts, 1921, and finalized in book form during 1921 as 科學化的國術 Scientific Martial Arts]

體育良師
Physical education is an excellent teacher indeed.
王正廷題
– calligraphy by Wang Zhengting

志氣精神
On willpower, energy, essence, spirit:
三軍不可奪者志也
To be unconquerable even by armies – that is what it means to have willpower.
百折而不撓者氣也
To be sent down many detours and yet never be frustrated – that is what it means to have energy.
專一而不雜者精也
To be focused on one thing and not distracted by many – that is what it means to have essence.
聖而不可知者神也
“To have wisdom beyond the comprehension of others – that is what it means to have spirit.” [Mengzi, chapter 7b]
閩侯林傳甲敬題
– calligraphy by Lin Chuanjin of Minhou County

沈序
PREFACE BY SHEN ENFU

東方數千年號稱古文明一大國如吾中華者,當然有甚多之國粹流傳於世間,而供教育者研究之資料也。雖然,東方國性,向多趨重貴族式,而罕為平民式者。其所謂文明事業,大抵依帝王士大夫為隆替;而閭巷田野間,農工商等之社會習尚,十九皆湮滅不傳。予甚感焉!繼而思吾國國粹,蓋偏重於文科藝術之研究,以其迫於貴族式也。若乎武術藝術。與平民社會諸藝術,均鮮列於國粹之價値矣。間嘗稽我國史,武派雖不少奇才異能;而但詳俠義,武術則略也。武科雖不少豐功偉績;而但著兵法,武術則缺也。若是乎中國果無武術之國粹乎?曰,否,否,蓋有之。則在江湖獻藝者之手技,或方外僧侶等之口授;若欲求諸學校教育,專科研究,以普及於平民智識者,闃然未之前聞。夫世間無論何事,皆自有其條理,皆可為藝術;為藝術,皆可成學科,而有其教材。况乎吾國武術,自有精義原理良法妙用存乎其中,卓然為我東方古文明國一大國粹。雖少專書傳世,然自有能之者學習而傳之。日本有柔術專家,蔚成武士道。歐洲古時有武士教育,今尤多技擊家。列强之名,有由來矣。今我國正患文弱,倘有武術家起而振奮之,寧非急務乎?吳君志靑,毅然倡設武術會;更本其夙所練習之武術智能,著為武術新教材。今付刊以廣供各學校之傳習,他日於普通體育科外,新樹一幟,斯已美矣!矧其裨益於平民教育,尤切實用歟?爰弁數語,以告武術學者。
新紀元之十年四月沈恩孚
For thousands of years, the “great civilization of the East” was our China. It has of course had a rich cultural influence upon the world and supplied educators with much to research. However, it is characteristic of our eastern nation to have typically emphasized things that happened to aristocrats and rarely to ordinary people, feeling that the history of a culture generally comes down to the rise and fall of emperors, kings, and generals. As for society at large in the lanes and fields, the experiences of farmers, laborers, and merchants have mostly been tossed aside, a loss which I deeply feel. When I think about our nation’s culture, I see that it has laid particular stress upon the study of literature and art precisely because it has been so obsessed with the nobility. Martial arts or any of the other skills of the common people have rarely been considered worthy of being classified among the essential aspects of our culture.
  Examining into our nation’s history, although martial arts schools have many tales of people with astounding abilities, there is information about the heroes themselves but a lack of information about the actual skills they possessed, and likewise, although our military histories have many records of great achievements, there is information about the strategies used but a lack of information about the actual skills that the soldiers used to carry them out. Are martial arts therefore absent from China’s cultural essence? No, not at all. They are to be found in the exhibitions of itinerant performers or the teachings of mystical monks. But the hope that they might be made a part of educational curricula and become a field of study, the idea of spreading them until they are common knowledge among the people, is something that is previously unheard of.
  Whatever people do, they develop a way of doing it, and thus it can become a craft. Once something is a craft, it can be turned into a course of study. And once something is made into a course of study, it will have its textbooks. This should be especially true for our nation’s martial arts, since they contain refined principles and sophisticated methods. They are an outstanding and grand feature of our ancient civilization. Although there are not many specialized books that have been passed down, there are nevertheless still capable people to pass on these teachings. Japan has its Judo masters to spread their culture of Bushido. Europe in the middle ages had its knights to set an example and now in modern times has its many skillful boxers. These are reasons why the great powers are considered “great”. Our nation is now in a state of anxiety and weakness. Is there not an urgent need for our martial arts masters to get up and inspire us?
  Wu Zhiqing, determined to promote these arts, established the Martial Arts Association and has been using the knowledge he has accumulated on the subject to produce new teaching materials, such as this book which is soon to be published and then widely supplied to various educational institutions. Someday it will have spread beyond schools of physical education and stand as a proud banner for us all, for it can also serve as a very practical means of educating the masses as a whole. Therefore I have written these few words to tell martial arts students about it.
  - Shen Enfu, April, 1921

林序
PREFACE BY LIN CHUANJIA

健全之精神,栖於健全之身體,身體不健,則精神昏惰,陷於醉生夢死,而不自知。中國自甲午一敗,睡獅始覺。余以化學生求試武備學堂。因身材短小,目力短視,不獲選。然丙申刱時務學堂,以幼學操身為體操教科,佐以中國易筋經。二十年來,南行不避煙瘴,北行不避冰霜,周遊十五省區,實賴此有用之身,精神不減也。黑龍江為尚武之地,愚夫婦十年教訓;今畢業生之武術,亦見稱於精武體育會,如劉生鳳池是也。然未若郭生濬黃,日馳馬八百里,挾五經以傳孔教於庫倫,尤勇敢也。嗟乎!南强北勝,海內紛紜。平心論之,滿蒙土厚水深,勢不可當,兵皆可用;成吉思汗征歐之偉烈,亦我五大民族之光也。願吳子鼓吹東南文明之學子,毅然自强,自此書始。並養精蓄銳,建設新事業。則體育之用於實業道德甚多,非僅以尚武耀兵也。不戢自焚,古有明訓。武裝和平,人皆可用。吾其師美利堅乎!
閩侯林傳甲謹序
A strong mind dwells in a strong body. When the body is not fit, the mind is not really awake. One slips into a befuddled lifestyle and loses self-awareness. Since our defeat in 1894 [1st Sino-Japanese War], our “sleeping tiger” of a nation began to stir, so I decided to join a military academy. But because my body is too small and I am too nearsighted, I was not accepted. In 1896, I instead established one of the Modernization Schools, where one thing that we taught to the children was physical education based on the Yijinjing exercises. For the last twenty years, I have not been able to avoid the suffocating humidity when traveling in the south or the biting frost when traveling in the north, and so while journeying through fifteen provinces [in his work as an educator, geographer, and historiographer], I have relied on such exercises to stay healthy and keep my mind sharp.
  Heilongjiang is a place that still has respect for the martial quality. I taught there with my wife for ten years. I have recently graduated in a martial arts course at the famous Jingwu Athletic Association. However, I am more like a steadfast Liu Fengchi than a superhuman Guo Junhuang, who galloped his horse hundreds of miles in a day, as I carried the Five Classics [Book of Poems, Book of History, Book of Rites, Book of Changes, Spring & Autumn Annals] under my arm to pass on Confucian teachings in places like Ulaanbaatar, which takes a peculiar courage indeed.
  The south struggled, but the north conquered, and everything in between is now a mix of cultures. Calmly put, Manchuria and Mongolia are vast territories that contain unstoppable peoples, soldiers always ready to fight. Such peoples enabled Genghis Khan’s conquests to spread all the way into Europe and are now the glory of our “five great ethnicities” [in top-down order on the Republican-era five-colored flag representing the five ethnic groups in China: Han Chinese (red), Manchus (yellow), Mongols (blue), Hui or Chinese Muslims (white), and Tibetans (black)].
  I hope that Wu’s preachings will get students of southeastern Chinese culture to resolve upon self-strengthening, which starts with books like this. Build up your energy for the new tasks that lie ahead. Physical education has a great many uses in industry and ethics, and is not just for the military. Ancient lessons have taught us: “If you do not learn to control yourself, you will destroy yourself.” [paraphrasing from Zuo’s Commentary to the Spring & Autumn Annals, 4th year of Duke Yin: “An army is like fire. If it is not restrained, it will incinerate itself.”] But to be prepared for war during peacetime is better for everyone, as the Americans have shown us.
  - sincerely written by Lin Chuanjia of Minhou County [in Fujian] [This preface is undated, but it was obviously written around the same time as the surrounding prefaces since Lin died in Jan, 1922.]

謝序
PREFACE BY XIE QIANGGONG

今之世界,科學世界也,科學之於世界,猶腦筋之於人身。無腦筋,則人身無精神;無科學,則世界無文明。故今日莊嚴燦爛之世界之新文明,實則精密佳妙之科學之現象也,科學之部類,無分乎文武,今世陋俗,執有文學無武學之說,是謬見也。夫立國大地,文武不可偏廢。故所謂武術,亦新文明之一種原素也;亦可曰一種科學也,豈徒以技藝名之乎?且卽為技藝,亦豈可無科學之原理原則乎?我中華為世界有名之古文明國,在昔帝王時代,開國創業,競尚武功。斯時講武術者,因帝王習尚,播為世界風俗;而武術家輩出,武術書紛陳,是科不無進步。迨乎國家承平,修文偃武,民風日趨文弱;不數十年,武術界不絕如縷,廢弛不復講求。蓋社會之智識,純隨帝王嗜好為轉移,數千年如出一轍,良可慨歎!歐洲當中古封建時代,諸王侯各養武士,尚技勇,武術因之日精。其後封建廢而武士屛棄,武術漸衰,中外蓋有同慨!雖然,我國之武術,遺傳於後世,而得為寶貴之一種國粹者,蓋亦不少,日本得我緒餘,別成一種武士道。維新以後,參加科學之精意,遂以技擊為戰勝强俄之特別利器,亦可謂殊榮矣!返觀吾國武術,雖有南北少林武當等派,然而有保守,無進步,不能利用之以增國防之色彩;此其故何也?蓋無專科研究之組織,卽不可合於科學之方法。是故徒事拘墟,而不能普及發展耳,吳君志靑,首創武術會於海上,成立僅及年餘,會員日增;分會且推及於閩粵南洋,遠及法國等處;前途蓋有無窮之希望焉。吳君於武術專門研究有年,其言曰:武術蓋與科學有密切之關係者也。居今日而謀救國,武術實為要圖。然苟不依科學之方式,以改良推廣之,則永無進化之日。其研究武術之大略:(一)須按生理學之義理,而不背衞生之要旨。(二)從心理上研究,求學者之智識如何精確,意志如何高尚,感情如何活潑輔以音樂,助學者之興趣。(三)須合於教育上之程序,而養成是科人才,謀普及於平民社會。(四)練習各種動作,須合實用,如交際上跳舞諸有規則之優美運動;以期改良社會粗野之習慣,而以體育輔佐德育精神,養成完全高尚之人格。綜上四者,以立武術研究之要旨;謂之武術科學可也,謂之科學武術亦可也。夫如是,是科之價値,庶幾可增高於今日競存之世界矣。今吳君又以其所研究貢獻於世而按生理之構成,與體育之原理,心理之關係,教育之順序,以編成各種柔軟體操,分之,則為精練優勝之各種新式技能;合之,則連成一貫之實用手法;狹之,則交際社會,為活潑優美之舞蹈;廣之,則捍衞國家,為出奇制勝之利器。嗟乎!中國武士道,曷嘗非新文化運動之一種乎?世有倡武術救國者,須知仍是科學救國而已。故惟有科學之武術,始足稱武術;亦始足發揮光大科學之效用也。今吳君將以斯編付刊,廣供各界之傳習。爰序其要略於簡端。
中華民國開國十年四月强公謝燮
The modern world is a scientific world. Science in the world is like the brain in the body. Without a brain, the body would have no mind. Without science, the world would not have a civilization. The majestic and magnificent world of modern civilization is indeed built upon precise and ingenious use of scientific phenomena. However, science does not categorize things into “civil” or “martial”. It is ordinary people who cling to dubious notions of civil knowledge versus martial knowledge. Because founding a nation over such a huge territory cannot be achieved by relying on either the civil or martial quality on its own, martial arts have to be equally considered to be an element of modern civilization. Martial arts can also be considered to be a science and not merely an “art”. How indeed can any skill not involve scientific principles?
  Our Chinese nation is famous throughout the world for its ancient civilization. In the days of emperors and kings, the pioneering work of founding a state was still a military endeavor. At such a time, martial arts practitioners were favored by rulers and this had an influence on the culture of the society. More martial arts experts emerged and more martial arts texts appeared, and so the science progressed. But when the nation was at peace, it turned to civil matters and abandoned military concerns, and then its people increasingly weakened. After just a few decades, the martial arts community was reduced to a precarious existence, on the edge on being forgotten. For thousands of years, our society’s customs and knowledge shifted according to the whims of its rulers, something that gives us cause to sigh with regret.
  Similarly, the nobles of Europe in the Middle Ages all supported knights and had respect for skillful warriors, and so their martial arts became more and more refined. When feudalism later ended, the knights disappeared with it, and the martial culture of Europe gradually declined. Thus both China and foreign nations face the same sense of having lost something.
  However, our nation’s martial arts were passed down to future generations and treated like cultural heirlooms. (Because there were so many, Japan took from the surplus of our martial arts to create their Bushido. After embarking on their period of modernization, they added scientific knowledge to their arsenal and then used their skills to defeat Russia, even with all her specialized weapons, surely a glorious achievement.) Looking over our nation’s martial arts, although styles classified as “northern” or “southern”, “Shaolin” or “Wudang”, have been preserved, they have not progressed. They therefore cannot be used to add to our national defense. Why? Because unless they are organized into a specialized system of study, they will not conform to a scientific methodology. If we are narrow-mindedly fixated on one style or another, our martial arts as a whole cannot be popularized and further developed.
  Wu Zhiqing founded the Martial Arts Association in Shanghai, just over a year ago, but its membership has since increased to such an extent that branch schools have spread south into Fujian and Guangdong, and even as far away as France. Its future has limitless prospects. Wu has made a specialized study of martial arts for many years and asserts that martial arts are intimately related to science. “The plan is to rescue the nation, and martial arts are the key to that plan. But if we do not rely on scientific means to improve and popularize these arts, we will never make any progress toward that goal.” His general plan for the studying of martial arts runs thus:
  1. It has to be in accordance with physiological principles and not go against the requirements of health.
  2. It should follow a psychological approach, seeking for the student’s knowledge to be accurate, ambitions to be noble, and emotional state to be lively. A musical rhythm can also be used as a means to help the student feel more engaged in the exercise.
  3. It has to be structured in a pedagogical sequence, in order to best cultivate the talents of individuals and be spread more efficiently to the rest of society.
  4. The training has to have a similar function to the rules of graceful dance, that of reforming the cruder habits of society, of boosting one’s moral instinct and elevating one’s character.
  Equipped with these four points to ground martial arts research, it can be called “martial arts science” or “scientific martial arts”. In this way, it is a valuable branch of study that can give us an edge in this modern competitive world. Wu is now offering what he has learned to the world, using principles of physiology and sports training, a psychological approach, and a pedagogical structure to make a series of calisthenic exercises. Any one of these exercises is a simple yet superior means of developing skill. When combined, they are a continuous series of practical hand techniques. Looked at with a narrow view, it serves as a lively and graceful dance which facilitates social interaction. Looked at with a broader view, it is a cunning weapon for defending the nation. Here then is Chinese Bushido. How could exercises like these not be a feature of our New Culture Movement?
  Those who promote martial arts to rescue the nation have to understand that they also need science in order to rescue the nation. Therefore it is the more scientific martial arts that deserve to be considered the real martial arts, and they are also the ones that reveal the wonderful effectiveness of science. Wu is about to send this book to the printers in order to spread the knowledge it contains to a wide audience. Thus I have written this preface to supply a brief overview.
  - written by Xie Qianggong, April, 1921

唐序
PREFACE BY TANG XINYU

世界無新物,特本諸原質,各盡發明製造之能事而已;世界無新理,特本諸自然,各盡尋繹推演之心力而已,故一代之技能,有一代之應用;一國之技能,有一國之特性;古代之技能,不必適用於今界;歐美之技能,未必適用於中國;因環境之不同,而思想之各異也,吾於體操亦然,德日之體操,重强健身體而適用於軍事;英美則重訓練精神而適用於生活,雖其方法應用各有不同,要皆本諸其固有之活動,適應各自之環境,以發揮其特性而已,不知者妄行採取,徒為削足適屨之謀,未見截長補短之效,尤有復古者流,斤斤為國粹之保存,而昧於時代環境與思想之變遷,是皆不能盡發明製造之能事,與尋繹推演之心力者也。
吾國民固自有其技能,特時代應用之不同,未免相形見絀耳,吾國又固有其特性,特訓練之法不良,故未足以發展耳,試放眼觀察現代之環境,旣不應具黷武雄心,如德日之專重軍備;又不可泰然自處,如英美之偏重生活,則吾國現代所取之體育方針,應折衷此二者,已無疑矣。吾國固有之技能為何?武術是也。固有之特性為何?仁義是也。之二者,如能加以變通採為體育之方法與目的,更善事應用訓練,以應付現代之環境,必能折衷德日英美之間,而吾國民有卓立之地位也。
吾友吳君。素精武術,尤明體育之眞義;故本其平日所學,參以教授心得。以中國固有之武術為原質,加以科學方法之製造,發明一體育上之新物品,命其名曰「應用武術中國新體操」今更名「科學化的國術」旣成此册,索序於余;余細玩其編列之次序,與應用之方法,深合生理學心理學及教育學之原理,旣足增進健康,又能引起興趣,更能養成各善良之性質,是誠體育研究之菁華,尤預備應付環境之良術也,謹弁數言,質之識者以為何如?
中華民國十年四月唐新雨
There is really nothing new in the world, everything being built from fundamental elements, and thus inventions come simply from skillfully putting those elements together. There are also really no new truths in the world, everything being derived from fundamental principles of nature, and thus insights emerge simply through persistently applying powers of deduction. And therefore the skills of a particular era will serve the needs of that era and the skills of a particular nation will be characteristic to that nation.
  Ancient skills are not necessarily suitable for the modern world. European and American skills are not necessarily suitable for China. Different circumstances bring different ideas. The same is true for our forms of exercise. German and Japanese calisthenics emphasize strengthening the body for military use, whereas British and American calisthenics emphasize boosting the spirit to make better workers. Although their methods serve different purposes, they are each based on their nation’s innate patterns of exercise, suitable for each nation’s particular circumstances, and express the character of that nation.
  Ignorant people choose any form of exercise, giving no thought to whether it is appropriate. They are following a strategy of “whittling the foot to fit the shoe”, not noticing the effects of trying to bring equality to one’s shortcomings by way of reducing one’s strengths. And then there are those who seek to return to the past in every little detail in order to preserve our national culture. They fail to understand that circumstances and ideas change over time. In both cases, such people lack skills of invention and powers of deduction.
  Our nation’s people have an innate skill, which is not as good as it used to be even though its use has varied from one era to another. Our nation’s people also have an innate character, which will not get developed if the training is not right. Looking at the wider view of our situation in modern times, we should not be too militaristic, like Germany and Japan focusing on training their armies, but we should also not be too sanguine, like Britain and America putting their attention simply on the people being able to make their livelihood. The guiding principle of the physical education we choose for our nation should undoubtedly be somewhere between the two.
  What is our nation’s innate skill? Our martial arts. What is our nation’s innate character? Benevolence and righteousness. If we can take our innate skill and our innate character and adapt them for modern times, then we can pick the right methods of physical education most suitable for our goals, and by adding in the best forms of training, we will able to respond to our present situation. We have to get the right mix of the emphasis of Germany and Japan with the emphasis of Britain and America [i.e. training for both fighting and health], and then our nation will be able to stand tall in the world.
  My colleague Wu is an expert at martial arts, and particularly understands the true significance of physical education. Therefore based on what he has learned from his own training and what he has discovered through teaching it, he has taken China’s native martial arts and added scientific methods to create a new form of physical education, which he put into a book called Using Martial Arts to Make China’s New Calisthenics, the title recently changed to Scientific Martial Arts. Once the manuscript was completed, he asked me for a preface.
  I have carefully gone through his arrangement of exercises and methods of applying them, and have found that they strongly conform to principles of physiology, psychology, and pedagogy. They are more than adequate for increasing health, and can enhance one’s sense of enjoyment, as well as cultivate good character. It is truly the height of physical education studies and is an especially good means for preparing us to deal with whatever situations might arise. I sincerely offer these few words, though I am sure that more knowledgeable people can put it better than I have.
  - Tang Xinyu, April, 1921

蔡序
PREFACE BY CAI JUEZAI

我國武術,歷久不敗,蓋有哲理存乎其間,非精於斯道者,實難洞悉之也。其後派別旣夥,眞傳漸失,所以然者,一則挾技橫行,致遭社會唾棄;一則智識譾陋,不知其所以然,而失其眞;良可惜已。歙縣吳君志靑余同學也,研究武術十有餘稔,教授之暇,輒自練習,其好學不倦之心,令人肅然起敬,民國八年,吳君集合同志,刱辦中華武術會於滬南,不期年而會員已達千餘人之多,深受社會信用,乃者出其所學,著成一籍,題曰「應用武術中國新體操」今更名「科學化的國術」。改進武術,意在普及,一般學校社會咸可採用練習,謂為健身法可;謂為延生術亦無不可,造福人羣,實非淺鮮,武術前途,有曙光矣!謹為序。
中華民國十年四月蔡倔哉
Our nation’s martial arts have never been outclassed, and this is because they are imbued with philosophical principles. Without fully mastering an art, it is truly difficult to understand it thoroughly. As systems later diverged into styles, authentic teachings were lost. This is on one hand because practitioners who misused their skills were expelled from society, and on the other hand because practitioners who had an incomplete knowledge of the art did not have a thorough understanding of how it worked and so were not able to pass on the true teachings. This is truly a pity.
  My fellow student Wu Zhiqing of She County [in Anhui] has studied martial arts for more than ten years. In teaching and training, his tireless love of learning has earned him great respect from people. In 1919, Wu gathered together his comrades to establish the Chinese Martial Arts Association in the southern part of Shanghai. After not even a year had gone by, membership had already risen to more than a thousand people.
  Having garnered such deep regard from society, he in return has drawn from his learning to write a book which he originally titled Using Martial Arts to Make China’s New Calisthenics, the title now changed to Scientific Martial Arts. He wishes to make martial arts easier to popularize, something that can be practiced in ordinary schools. These arts can also be thought of as both a method of fitness and a means of longevity, and so the benefit this would bring to people would by no means be insignificant. Because this gives us real hope for the future of martial arts, I sincerely write this preface.
  - Cai Juezai, April, 1921

凡例
GENERAL COMMENTS

一本書以普及體育為主旨,故取材極簡,期合實用而便練習,編者曾實驗於上海女靑年會體育師範民立中學江蘇省立第二師範上海縣立一高養正潮惠和安第二師範附屬育材等學校,及江蘇省教育會體育研究會曁中華武術會等處,已獲良好效果。
– The purpose of this book is to popularize physical education, and therefore I have selected material that is extremely straightforward and which is both practical and easy to practice. I have experimented with this material in the Shanghai YWCA Teacher-Training School, the Establish-the-People High School, the Jiangsu 2nd Teacher-Training School, Shanghai County 1st College, Municipal Uniformed Elementary School, Spreading Benevolence Elementary School, Harmony & Peace Elementary School, 2nd Teacher-Training Attached School, and the Raising Talent Elementary School, as well as the Jiangsu Educational Association, the Physical Education Research Association, and of course the Chinese Martial Arts Association, and have in each case obtained excellent results.

一本書採取各家國術菁華依據生理學心理學教育學等之原理,變成動作,雖不敢謂完善,然按諸科學尚無背謬,故定名曰科學化的國術。
– For this book, I have selected from the best exercises from various styles of Chinese martial arts and adjusted the movements in accordance with principles of physiology, psychology, and pedagogy. I would not dare to claim that these exercises are perfect, but they are all on the side of the realistic rather than the absurd, which is why I have called the book Scientific Martial Arts.

一本書適合高小及普通師範學校教材;卽個人家庭,能依法練習,可免腦肺胃腸等病,而入於健康之域。
– The material in this book is suitable for use in high schools and teacher-training schools. People in individual households can also use it to practice, and thereby become free of ailments of the brain, lungs, intestines, and so on, and enter into a state of better health.

一本書除詳細說明外,附以銅板製成各種姿勢圖;俾學者按圖練習,一目暸然,無困難扞格之弊。
– Beyond the detailed explanations, there are also photos of each posture in order for you to more clearly understand how to practice these exercises, free from any frustrating confusion.

一本書分上中下三編:以第一部為上編,第二第三部為中編,以第四部為下編,除上編先行付梓外,中下三編正在實驗中,一得圓滿效果,當續出版,
– The plan is to divide this material into four parts over three volumes, part one in the first, parts two and three in the second, and part four in the third. Apart from this first volume being ready to go to the printers, the later volumes still need work. Once I am fully satisfied with the results, they will then be published. [The later volumes were apparently never produced, perhaps indicating that Wu had ended up unsatisfied with them after all, or possibly the interruption of such work due to his several years of military service during the 1920s drained the momentum for this particular project. Whatever the case, part one was considered important enough on its own to be republished in 1930.]

緒論
INTRODUCTION

人類進化,有天演之公式:合則生存;否則敗亡耳。我中華立國四千餘年,其間他國之滅國亡種者,不知凡幾;而我國卒未至於淪胥者,要必有足以自存之道焉,自存之道何在?蓋一則以文化之燦爛,一則以武事之發揚,而近者文化方有日新之機,武事則如江河日下;至可慨已!志靑不揣譾陋,前創辦中華武術會於滬上。藉謀集合同志,研究國粹,以期保存與發展焉。尤有感者,今昔時勢不同,現為文化進步,科學劇戰時代,故國術一道,脫不以科學方法,從而改進,勢難邀社會之信用,必致完全失傳,而國運亦將受其影響矣。茲將國術與生理心理教育等之關係,分述如下:
Mankind developed according to the laws of evolution. Conforming to those laws brought survival and defying those laws brought death. Our Chinese nation was founded more than four thousand years ago. Within that time, so many nations have perished, their people vanquished, that I cannot even place a number to it. But our nation has not disappeared because we have had sufficient means of self-preservation. And what are these means? The magnificence of our culture and the development of our military. But alas, in modern times our culture has been affected by so many new inventions and our military has slipped into constant decline.
  Despite my shallow abilities, I founded the Chinese Martial Arts Association in Shanghai in order to gather my comrades and do research into our cultural essence, hoping to preserve these arts and develop them further. I strongly feel that our modern situation is not the same as it was in earlier times. We are now in an era of cultural progress and scientific competition. Martial arts training has failed to make use of a scientific approach and yet can be greatly improved by it. Although it may be difficult to convince society of this, the outcome could otherwise be that these arts will end up being lost altogether, and that would have a terrible effect on the future of our nation.
  I will now touch upon how physiology, psychology, and pedagogy are relevant to martial arts, addressing each of these things below:

(一)國術與生理之關係
1. The Relationship Between Martial Arts & Physiology:

人皆欲享幸福者,天性然也。然一切幸福,皆本於身體生活之健全,凡人不求幸福則已;苟欲求之,不可不依據生理學,力圖身體生活之健全,明矣,語云:「戶樞不蠧;流水不腐」;人生於世,自當及時運動,運動之於人身,其重要與衣食住等,衣食住一日不可少,而運動亦一日不可缺也。蓋人生職業之興敗,當視精神與體力之何如為比例差,而精神之所以能充分,體力之所以能健强者;皆由鍛鍊而得,故吾人一日內,除經營職業外,當有一定之時間,修養其身體與精神;以為職業上之補助,且於經濟上亦有極大關係,蓋體力强健,精神充足,旣無疾病之苦痛,又無醫藥之消費;職業昌隆,經濟裕如,誠為人生無上之幸福也已。
Everyone seeks happiness. This is only natural. But every kind of happiness is rooted in the health of the body. If you do not seek happiness, then never mind. But if you do seek it, it is entirely dependent on physiology, and so clearly it is a matter of striving for physical health. A saying goes [from Master Lü’s Spring & Autumn Annals, book 3, chapter 2]: “Running water never goes stale and a door that gets used does not get rusty hinges.” One’s life naturally requires exercise. Exercising the body is just as important as being clothed and fed. One cannot go without clothes and food for a single day, and one also cannot go without exercise for a single day.
  To be successful in one’s career equally requires a good attitude and physical stamina. Both a full spirit and a strong body will be obtained through exercise. Therefore within a given day, beyond just going to work, there has to be time set aside to cultivate body and spirit. This will not only make you even better at performing your job, it will thereby also have a huge effect on your financial situation. This is because with a healthy body and full spirit, you will not suffer from any illness, and thus you will not need to buy any medicines. Therefore you will prosper at work and save money at home. Surely there is no higher happiness in life.

(二)國術與心理之關係
2. The Relationship Between Martial Arts & Psychology:

武術者,體育上之一種實用運動也。蓋運動之事,如祇有學理之價値,而無應用之價値,對於心理上,朝於斯,夕於斯,漸致厭倦不樂,必難得美滿之效果,又豈非一大缺憾乎?故國術除求衞生外,尚有防禦危侮之意,存乎其中,卽如體操中之足球籃球等運動,亦另有一種競勝心理,使人不厭反復練習,以達所爭目的而後已也,編者歷年教授體操,為欲防學者厭倦之心,每次必變動教材,色色翻新;非然者,卽不能使人增加興趣,樂於學習也。若教之以國術,亦有不熟不止之勢,其所以不厭倦者,以其能達他種應用之目的;天下惟有實用者,為能得人心理上之欣羨,此其關係視僅求衞生者為何如乎?是故國術運動為一種實用之體育,亦卽一種實用之心理也。
Martial arts are a very practical form of physical exercise. If an exercise only has value in principle and not in reality, your attitude toward it with each passing day and night will change, gradually finding it to be tedious and uninteresting, and it will be difficult to get any enjoyment out of it. Is this not an enormous flaw? Beyond bringing health, martial arts are also intended for self-defense. Sports such as soccer or basketball have a competitive mentality, which causes people to never tire of repetitive practice because they are working toward winning games.
  Throughout my years of experience of teaching exercise, I have tried to find ways to prevent students from getting bored, and so every time I teach a lesson I make adjustments to the material, bringing some variety, keeping it fresh. If I do not do this, I cannot get the students to increase their interest and find pleasure in what they are learning. In the case of teaching martial arts, the training has a quality of never being finished. The reason it does not become boring is because it is working toward a goal. When something has real-world application, it is easy for people to admire it. Would people feel this way if it was only for health? Therefore martial arts are a practical form of physical education and appeals to our sense of wanting things to be useful.

(三)國術與教育之關係
3. The Relationship Between Martial Arts & Pedagogy:

吾人吸收智識,必得有腦力,精神,體力三者,然三者之中,而尤以體力為要;蓋精神腦力,悉由鍛鍊而得也,人類以共同為生活,智識單簡,尚可謀生;體力不健,自絕生存之道也,故鍛鍊體軀,實為教育上之大助。夫國術以拳術為主,拳術為我國獨有之國技,運動平均,少長咸宜,非其他之體操法可同日語也。旣能鍛鍊體軀,又能活潑精神;且合實用,小則防身,大則保國,為個人團體之保障,戰鬭時短兵相接,非熟於斯道者,決難取勝。故武術所以練習手眼身步法,運用心身之聯合,發揮個性之本能,養成耐勞判斷注意有恆諸德性,增進記憶力,助長其天良之義勇,負互助之責任,為教育上之重要關鍵,為人類生活上之必修科學。
To absorb knowledge, we need to have three things: intelligence, spirit, and health. But among these three things, health is the most important. Spirit and intelligence can thereafter be obtained through training. Human beings make a living as a group, and so even a simple level of knowledge is enough to make a living [because gaps in knowledge are compensated for by others in the group specializing in and carrying out other necessary tasks]. But if you do not keep your body healthy, you are cutting yourself off from this means of surviving [by being unable to serve a useful role that contributes to the group]. Therefore training the body is of the greatest help in teaching students.
  Our martial arts emphasize boxing arts. Our boxing arts are our nation’s special skill. They exercise the whole body evenly and are thus suitable for young and old alike. No other methods of exercise deserve to spoken of in the same breath. These arts can train your body and liven your spirit. They also have a dual function: on the small scale, they can defend the body, and on the large scale, they can protect the nation. They serve to safeguard both the individual and the group. To engage in close-quarter combat without skill in these arts would make victory very hard to achieve.
  Martial arts therefore train methods of hand, eye, body, and step. They work both mind and body in tandem, and develop one’s natural instincts. They cultivate the qualities of hard work, determination, focus, and perseverance, as well as enhance memory and help build one’s sense of morality and duty. All of these qualities are keys to education and are things that human beings need to learn in order to survive.

志靑不敏,謹就上述數種關係,本吾國固有之國粹及數載施教實驗所得,編成「應用武術中國新體操」今復與△△商榷改良修正,更名曰「科學化的國術」,所謂科學化的國術者,卽以科學方法,改進國術,使合乎生理心理,教育諸原則,以期切合於實用,而易普及之謂也。凡分四部,合之則成一套國粹之武術;析之則為實用之手法;因之則為出奇制勝之技能,變之則為活潑優美一種舞蹈之動作;若更和以音樂,則心身修養;裨益不尠,惟謬誤之處,在所不免;尚祈海內同志,進而教之。
I am not highly intelligent, but I have written the above explanations with sincerity. Based on our nation’s innate cultural essence and what I have discovered through the course of teaching it for several years, I have written Using Martial Arts to Make China’s New Calisthenics, but after some discussion, I have decided to change it to Scientific Martial Arts, which instead means to use scientific methods to improve our martial arts, to get them to better conform to principles of physiology, psychology, and pedagogy in hopes of making them more practical and easier to popularize.
  This material is to be divided into four parts: [part 1] a combined set of martial arts exercises [the subject of this book], [part 2] an analysis of the functions of the hand techniques, [part 3] explanations for using these skills to ingeniously defeat opponents, [part 4] adjusting the exercises into a more lively and graceful dance-like series of movements by the addition of using musical instruments to create a metronome effect for them, thereby cultivating both mind and body simultaneously. [Parts 2–4 unfortunately exist in concept only. We can speculate that the reasons for this might have been that the first part was probably all that was needed to popularize these exercises among educational institutions, that parts two and three might have been of interest only to martial enthusiasts, and part four was perhaps unnecessarily eclectic.] The benefits of these exercises will not be meager, but inevitably I have made some errors. I hope my comrades throughout the nation will come forward and instruct me.

科學化的國術
SCIENTIFIC MARTIAL ARTS

第一部
PART ONE

第一節 四肢運動(兼有腰部之動作)
Section 1: AN EXERCISE FOR THE FOUR LIMBS (which also works the waist area)

種類
Type of exercise:
行進四肢與轉體之動作。
This is a method of advancing involving movements of all of the limbs and turning around.
術名
Name of the technique:
閃轉用掌循行進退。
SUDDENLY TURNING AROUND WIELDING PALMS WHILE ADVANCING & RETREATING
實用要訣
Keys to the exercise:
要旨係練習手眼身步法。為前後受敵衝前閃後掩護之基礎。由衝打掛護步隨身進。可以脫險謂之閃。由閃而欲制勝於人。必須復轉而實用打劈之術。轉則務將全身掩護。旋轉神速。始能盡閃轉之妙。此為脫險出奇制勝。相機因應之要法也。
The main idea is to train methods of hand, eye, body, and step. This is basically a scenario of dealing with opponents attacking in front and behind, of striking at the one in front of you and then dodging around behind the other. After striking to one [photo 2], carry upward and use a covering step to advance toward the other [photos 3–5], and then you will be able to dodge around the danger presented by him [photo 6]. Once you are dodging, if you want to take control and subdue this opponent, you must then turn around and attack him with a chop [photos 7 & 8]. When turning, you have to shield your whole body by turning very quickly, and thus you will be dodging more effectively. This is an example of avoiding danger and defeating an opponent with an unexpected maneuver, a crucial principle in dealing with such situations.

實習動作
Practice method:
左式預備圖
Preparation posture on the left side:
立正抱肘式。眼平視。胸挺起。腰直。腿倂。兩腳約距離六十度。兩拳置於腰間。兩肘向後。如上圖。
Stand at attention with your elbows wrapped back, your gaze level. Your chest is sticking out, your torso upright. Your legs are together, your feet spread to make a sixty degree angle. Your fists are placed at your waist, your elbows pointing behind. See photo 1.1a:

一、左拳變掌。由腰間向上經額前往右肩前下按至右腋。眼平視如第一圖。
1. Your left fist becomes a palm, rises from your waist, passes in front of your forehead, goes in front of your right shoulder, and pushes down until in front of your right armpit. Your gaze is level. See photo 1.1b:

二、是時右拳卽變掌。由右腋下經左掌上穿出。向右伸直。手指向上。五指倂齊。掌邊向右。左掌貼右肩。掌心向內。掌形似柳葉。名曰柳葉掌。眼視右掌。身體順勢稍右轉。同時卽伸左腿。右膝曲為九十度。全身重量坐於右腿上。如第二圖。
2. Then your right fist becomes a palm and goes from your right armpit, threading out over your left palm, and extending to the right, the fingers pointing upward, fingers together, the palm edge facing to the right, your left palm near your right shoulder with the center of the hand facing inward. Each palm is making a shape like a willow leaf, and thus it is called a “willow leaf” palm. Your gaze is toward your right palm. Your torso goes along with the movement by turning slightly to the right and your left leg extends [to the left], your right knee bending to make a ninety degree angle, the weight sitting onto your right leg. See photo 1.2:

三、左掌由右肩向左伸直。指端向下。掌背近左腿。身稍左轉。眼視左掌。如第三圖。
3. Your left palm goes from your right shoulder and extends to the left, the fingers pointing downward, the back of the palm near your left leg, as your torso slightly turns to the left. Your gaze is toward your left palm. See photo 1.3:

四、是時左掌沿腿上挑。卽彎左腿伸右腿。左腰亦卽同時伸縮。身體順勢稍左轉。左掌指端與鼻齊。右掌指端與頭頂齊。兩肘內扣。眼視左掌。兩臂形似扁擔。名曰扁擔式柳葉掌。如第四圖。
4. Your left palm passes along your [left] leg and carries upward as your left leg bends and your right leg straightens, the left side of your waist stretching, and your torso goes along with the movement by turning slightly to the left. Your left fingertips are at nose level, your right fingertips at headtop level, and your elbows are covering inward. Your gaze is toward your left palm. Your arms look as though they are carrying a shoulder pole, and thus this posture is described as “carrying a pole with willow-leaf palms”. See photo 1.4:

五、左掌上衝。右掌下掛。同時右腿隨右臂前上一步。身體順右腿猛閃向前。右腳趾點地成丁式。眼平視。如第五圖。
5. Your left palm thrusts upward as your right palm hangs downward. At the same time, your right leg goes along with your right arm by stepping forward, your body correspondingly going suddenly forward, your right toes touching the ground, making a T-shaped stance. Your gaze is level. See photo 1.5:

六、同時身體由左後轉。是時右腳再向前一大步。右腿下彎。左腳伸直。身體順右腿閃向左。同時左掌後劈。右掌前挑。眼視左掌。如第六圖。
6. Then your torso turns to the left rear as your right foot takes a large step forward, the leg bending, your left leg straightening, your torso lining up with your right leg as you dodge your left side away. At the same time, your left palm chops to the rear, your right palm carrying in front. Your gaze is toward your left palm. See photo 1.6:

七、是時身體左轉。腹部內收。左腳收囘半步。與右腿倂齊。成左虛式。同時右臂內轉。眼平視。如第七圖。
7. Then your body turns to the left, your belly drawing back, as your left foot withdraws a half step [your right pivoting inward] for the thigh to pull in next to your right thigh, making a left empty stance, and your right arm at the same time arcs inward. Your gaze is level. See photo 1.7:

八、左腳向右腳後方。退後一大步。右腳下彎。左腳伸直。成右弓式。同時左掌下掛。復上挑。右掌上衝。復下劈。兩臂成弧形。眼視右掌。如第八圖。
8. Then your left foot retreats a large step behind your right foot, your right leg bending, your left leg straightening, making a right bow stance. At the same time, your left palm hangs down and then carries upward as your right palm thrusts up and then chops down, your arms making a curved shape. Your gaze is toward your right palm. See photo 1.8:

停立正。成抱肘式。
Then finish by standing at attention [withdrawing your right foot] and making the wrapped-elbows position.
右式預備圖
Preparation posture on the right side:
立正抱肘式。眼平視。胸挺起。腰直。腿倂。兩腳約距離六十度。兩拳置於腰間。兩肘向後。如上圖。
Stand at attention with your elbows wrapped back, your gaze level. Your chest is sticking out, your torso upright. Your legs are together, your feet spread to make a sixty degree angle. Your fists are placed at your waist, your elbows pointing behind. See photo 1.9a:

一、右拳變掌。由腰間向上經額前往右肩前下按至左腋。眼平視。如第一圖。
1. Your right fist becomes a palm, rises from your waist, passes in front of your forehead, goes in front of your right [left] shoulder, and pushes down until in front of your left armpit. Your gaze is level. See photo 1.9b:

二、是時左拳卽變掌。由左腋下經右掌上穿出。向左伸直。手指向上。五指倂齊。掌邊向左。右掌貼左肩。掌心向內。掌形似柳葉。名曰柳葉掌。眼視左掌。身體順勢稍左轉。同時卽伸右腿。左膝曲為九十度。全身重量坐於右腿上。如第二圖。
2. Then your left fist becomes a palm and goes from your left armpit, threading out over your right palm, and extending to the left, the fingers pointing upward, fingers together, the palm edge facing to the left, your right palm near your left shoulder with the center of the hand facing inward. Each palm is making a shape like a willow leaf, and thus it is called a “willow leaf” palm. Your gaze is toward your left palm. Your torso goes along with the movement by turning slightly to the left and your right leg extends [to the right], your left knee bending to make a ninety degree angle, the weight sitting onto your right [left] leg. See photo 1.10:

三、右掌由左肩向右伸直。指端向下。掌背近腿。身稍右轉。眼視右掌。如第三圖。
3. Your right palm goes from your left shoulder and extends to the right, the fingers pointing downward, the back of the palm near your [right] leg, as your torso slightly turns to the right. Your gaze is toward your right palm. See photo 1.11:

四、是時右掌沿腿上挑。卽彎右腿。伸左腿。右腰亦卽同時伸縮。身體順勢稍右轉。右掌尖與鼻齊。左掌尖與頭頂齊。兩肘內扣。眼視右掌。兩臂形似扁擔。名曰扁擔式柳葉掌。如第四圖。
4. Your right palm passes along your [right] leg and carries upward as your right leg bends and your left leg straightens, the right side of your waist stretching, and your torso goes along with the movement by turning slightly to the right. Your right fingertips are at nose level, your left fingertips at headtop level, and your elbows are covering inward. Your gaze is toward your right palm. Your arms look as though they are carrying a shoulder pole, and thus this posture is described as “carrying a pole with willow-leaf palms”. See photo 1.12:

五、右掌上衝。左掌下掛。同時左腿隨左臂前上一步。身體順左腿猛閃向前。左腳趾點地成丁式。眼平視。如第五圖。
5. Your right palm thrusts upward as your left palm hangs downward. At the same time, your left leg goes along with your left arm by stepping forward, your body correspondingly going suddenly forward, your left toes touching the ground, making a T-shaped stance. Your gaze is level. See photo 1.13:

六、同時身體由右後轉。是時右腳再向前一大步。左腿下彎。右腳伸直。同時右掌後劈。左掌前挑。眼視右掌。如第六圖。
6. Then your torso turns to the right rear as your right [left] foot takes a large step forward, the leg bending, your right leg straightening. At the same time, your right palm chops to the rear, your left palm carrying in front. Your gaze is toward your right palm. See photo 1.14:

七、是時身體右轉。腹部內收。右腳收囘半步。與左腿倂齊。成右虛式。同時左臂內轉。眼平視。如第七圖。
7. Then your body turns to the right, your belly drawing back, as your right foot withdraws a half step [your left pivoting inward] for the thigh to pull in next to your left thigh, making a right empty stance, and your left arm at the same time arcs inward. Your gaze is level. See photo 1.15:

八、右腳向左腳後方退後一大步。左腳下彎。右腳伸直。成左弓式。同時右掌下掛。後上挑。左掌上衝。復下劈。兩臂成弧形。眼視左掌。如第八圖。
8. Then your right foot retreats a large step behind your left foot, your left leg bending, your right leg straightening, making a left bow stance. At the same time, your right palm hangs down and then carries upward as your left palm thrusts up and then chops down, your arms making a curved shape. Your gaze is toward your left palm. See photo 1.16 [again followed by withdrawing into standing at attention and making the wrapped-elbows position]:

生理上之關係
Physiological aspect:
閃轉用掌。循行進退。此為四肢之動作。又為腰部之運動。蓋此節縮小柔軟。活動四肢。流通氣血。舒展筋骨。為開始運動之準備。亦為講究生理之主要部分。並將各主要肌肉功用分析如左。
To suddenly turn around wielding palms while advancing and retreating is an exercise for the four limbs which also works the waist area. This exercise reduces excessive softness, livens the limbs, circulates energy and blood and stretches the sinews and bones. To get ready for the exercise, attention should be given to the major parts of the body that are involved in it. Listed below are the main muscles that are being worked:

一、以下各肌肉之名詞。悉據科學名詞審查會所定者。閃轉用掌。卽兩臂左右展開。及臂向內轉與向外轉等動作。
(Used below are names for specific muscles based on the verified proper scientific terminology.) 1. Suddenly turning around wielding palms involves the arms spreading to the left and right, as well as the arms making arcs inward and outward.
甲、兩臂左右展開。主要肌肉。
A. Spreading the arms to the left and right works these muscles:
岡上 三角 斜方三分之一等肌肉
supraspinatus, deltoids, lower trapezius.
乙、臂向內轉。主要肌肉。
B. Arcing the arm inward works these muscles:
背闊 大圓 胸大 三角 肩胛下等肌肉
latissimus dorsi, teres major, pectoralis major, deltoids, subscapularis.
丙、臂向外轉。主要肌肉。
C. Arcing the arm outward works these muscles:
岡下 三角 小圓等肌肉
infraspinatus, deltoids, teres minor.

二、循行進退。卽大腿內轉與外轉。並屈小腿與伸小腿等動作。
2. Advancing and retreating involves rotating the upper leg inward and outward, as well as bending and straightening the lower leg.
甲、大腿內轉。主要肌肉。
A. Turning the upper leg inward works these muscles:
闊筋模張 臀小 臀中 腰大等肌肉
tensor fasciae latae, gluteus minimus, gluteus medius, psoas major.
乙、大腿外轉。主要肌肉。
B. Turning the upper leg outward works these muscles:
外閉孔 臂大 縫匠 恥骨等肌肉
external obturator muscle, gluteus maximus, sartorius, pectineus.
丙、屈小腿。主要肌肉。
C. Bending the lower leg works these muscles:
縫匠 股薄 半腱 半模 股二頭 腓腸淺 蹠膕等肌肉
sartorius, gracilis, semitendinosus, semimembranosus, biceps femoris, gastrocnemius, popliteus.
丁、伸小腿。主要肌肉。
D. Extending the lower leg works these muscles:
股四頭 股直 股內側 股外側 股中間等肌肉
Quadriceps (rectus femoris, vastus lateralis, vastus medialis, vastus intermedius).

心理上之關係
Psychological aspect:
此節動作。行如撥草之蛇。轉如閃電之急。一舉一動。儼有勁敵在前。得心應手之妙。
In this exercise, the stepping is like a snake slithering through the grass and the turning is like a flash of lightning. With every movement, imagine there is a formidable opponent in front of you, and then you will perform it skillfully.

教育上之關係
Pedagogical aspect:
此節專練習手眼身法步。運用神經之連合。發揮奮鬭之本能。養成耐勞自信判斷敏捷勇敢自主有恆諸德性。此為武術之技能。而深合教育上之訓練。
This exercise focuses on training methods of hand, eye, body, and step. It trains coordination of the nervous system and thus develops one’s fighting instincts. It cultivates the virtuous qualities of hard work, self-confidence, judgment, quick wits, courage, initiative, and perseverance. These skills in martial arts strongly conform to skills needed in teaching.

第二節 改正運動(兼有軀幹之動作)
Section 2: AN EXERCISE OF REALIGNING (which also works the torso)

種類
Type of exercise:
俯仰伸縮。上呼下吸。
Lean forward and back, extending and retracting, exhaling when the hands are above, inhaling when the hands are below.
術名
Name of the technique:
十字佩虹鴛鴦手。
CROSSED HANDS SPREADING A RAINBOW, MANDARIN DUCK HANDS
實用要訣
Keys to the exercise:
來無形。去無蹤。(卽鈎摟挂打巧妙之形容詞也)按此六字巧妙之法。不在文字上空求。在學者熟練精通。當得此中三昧。
“Enter invisibly and then exit without a trace.” (This describes the actions of hooking and dragging, carrying and striking.) These words refer to a level of skillfulness and are not some just airy poetry. Once you have mastered these movements, you will awaken to the meaning.

實習動作
Practice method:
預備
Preparation posture:
開立抱肘。兩腳距離等於兩肩闊。眼前視。腰直。挺胸。
From standing at attention with your elbows wrapped back, your feet spread apart to shoulder width. Your gaze is forward, your torso is upright, and your chest is sticking out.

一、上體半面向左轉。兩腿下彎成騎馬式。同時兩拳變掌。交叉成十字形。上體稍向右轉。兩掌至膝前。卽變鈎向左右摟開。而膝前須前後相對。眼視前。挺胸。直腰。兩鈎與肩成垂直線。兩手交叉成十字形。名曰十字手。如第一第二圖。
1. Your upper body turns halfway to the left and your legs bend to make a horse-riding stance [left empty stance] as your fists become palms and cross to make an X shape in front of your knees, your upper body turning to the right [left]. Then your palms become hooks and drag apart to the sides to be in line with your knees. Your gaze is forward. Your chest is sticking out and your torso is upright. Your arms from shoulders to hands are hanging down and making vertical lines. Because of your palms crossing, this technique is called CROSSED HANDS. See photos 2.1 and 2.2:

二、兩鈎變掌。交叉成十字形。兩肘近肋。上體卽向後仰。右腳稍伸。左腳稍彎。同時兩掌向左右分開。肘仍貼於肋。掌心向前。手指稍曲分開。形似荷葉。名曰荷葉掌。兩掌位於兩肩之前。腹部收緊。胸挺起。眼前視。名曰十字佩虹式。如第三第四圖。
2. Your hooks become palms and cross to make an X shape, your elbows staying near your ribs, your upper body leaning back, your right [left] leg slightly straightening, left leg [right] slightly bending. Then your palms spread apart to the sides, your elbows still staying near your ribs, the centers of the hands facing forward, fingers slightly bent and spread apart. The shape is like lotus leaves, and so they are called “lotus leaf” palms. Your palms are positioned in front of your shoulders. Your belly is drawn back and your chest is sticking out. Your gaze is forward. This technique is called CROSSED HANDS SPREADING A RAINBOW. See photos 2.3 and 2.4:

三、鬆肩。兩掌向前直撲。同時左腿伸直。成右弓左箭步。或馬式亦可。惟兩臂平行。指尖與肩尖成半弧形。手指向上分開。用掌底使勁。形似嬰兒撲乳。名曰嬰兒撲乳式。
3. Your shoulders loosen and your palms pounce forward as your left [foot steps out and your right] leg straightens, making a stance of right [left] leg a bow, left [right] leg an arrow, though it can also done in a horse-riding stance. Your arms are level and form semicircles from shoulder to fingertips, the fingers pointing upward and spread apart, power expressing at the heels of the palms. This technique looks like an infant reaching out to be breast-fed, and so it is called INFANT GRABS AT ITS MOTHER’S BREASTS. See photo 2.5:

循環連續六次。再換左向後轉。練左式。如第五圖。
Perform this series of movements six times, then turn around to the left [right] and practice it on the other side.

四、兩掌交叉成十字形。上體向前俯。兩掌至膝前。卽變鈎向左右摟開。同時左膝仍曲成騎馬式。眼前視。挺胸。直腰。兩手交叉成十字名曰十字手。與第一二圖同。圖從略。
4. [Your feet pivot to the left (right) to point their toes behind you,] your legs bending to again make a horse-riding stance [right empty stance] as your palms cross to make an X shape in front of your knees, your upper body leaning forward [while turning around to the right], Then your palms become hooks and drag apart to the sides. Your gaze is forward. Your chest is sticking out and your torso is upright. Because of your palms crossing, this technique is called CROSSED HANDS. This is the same technique as in photos 2.1 and 2.2. See photos 2.6 and 2.7:

五、兩足尖向左後轉。左膝稍曲。右膝彎。同時兩鈎變掌。交叉成十字形。兩肘貼肋。上體向後仰。交叉。兩掌卽向左右分開。肘仍貼於肋。掌心向前。五指稍曲。分開。形似荷葉。名曰荷葉掌。兩掌位於兩肩之前。腹部收緊。胸挺起。眼前視。名曰十字佩虹式。如第六第七圖。
Your hooks become palms and cross to make an X shape, your elbows staying near your ribs, your upper body leaning back. Then your palms spread apart to the sides, your elbows still staying near your ribs, the centers of the hands facing forward, fingers slightly bent and spread apart. The shape is like lotus leaves, and so they are called “lotus leaf” palms. Your palms are positioned in front of your shoulders. Your belly is drawn back and your chest is sticking out. Your gaze is forward. This technique is called CROSSED HANDS SPREADING A RAINBOW. See photos 2.6 and 2.7 [2.8 and 2.9]:

六、鬆肩。兩掌向前直撲。同時右腿伸直左弓右箭步。或馬式亦可。兩臂平行。指尖與肩尖成半弧形。手指向上分開。五指用掌底使勁。形似嬰兒撲乳。名曰嬰兒撲乳式。如第八圖。
6. Your shoulders loosen and your palms pounce forward as your right [foot steps out and your left] leg straightens, making a stance of left [right] leg a bow, right [left] leg an arrow, though it can also done in a horse-riding stance. Your arms are level and form semicircles from shoulder to fingertips, the fingers pointing upward and spread apart, power expressing at the heels of the palms. This technique looks like an infant reaching out to be breast-fed, and so it is called INFANT GRABS AT ITS MOTHER’S BREASTS. See photo 2.8 [2.10]:

再演十字手。如第九第十圖。
Then perform CROSSED HANDS again, the same as in photos 9 and 10 [6 and 7].

如是循環連續演習六次。再向右後轉。演習六次。又向左。卽名曰左右連環式。
Perform this series of movements six times, then turn around and practice it on the other side another six times. This whole exercise is called CONTINUOUS MOVEMENT ON BOTH SIDES.

生理上之關係
Physiological aspect:
上呼下吸者。所以擴張胸廓。增進肺量。使橫膈膜充分運動。前俯後仰者。所以伸縮腹壁筋。以助長消化力。且兼有改正動作。使胸襟舒暢。脊柱無偏倚之弊。並將各主要肌肉功用分析如左。
Exhale when your hands are above. Inhale when your hands are below. This expands your rib cage, increasing lung capacity, and exercising your diaphragm. Leaning forward and back causes your abdominal wall to stretch and contract, encouraging digestion. This also serves as a corrective moment, the expanding of your chest discouraging your spine from curving into improper angles. Listed below are the main muscles that are being worked:

一、下俯上仰。卽脊梁前彎。與伸脊梁之動作。
1. Leaning forward and back involves the spine curving and straightening.
甲、脊梁前彎。主要肌肉。
A. The spine bending forward works these muscles:
項最長 頭最長 前斜角 腰直 腸內斜 腹外斜 腹橫等肌肉
longissimus cervicis, longissimus capitis, scalenus anterior, dorsal erector muscle, internal oblique muscle, external oblique muscle, transverse abdominis.
乙、伸脊梁。主要肌肉。
B. The spine straightening works these muscles:
下後鋸 頭夾 項半棘 背半棘 斜方等肌肉
serratus posterior inferior, splenius capitis, semispinalis cervicis, semispinalis thoracis, trapezius.

二、轉體向左右。卽轉脊梁之動作。
2. Your body turning to the left and right involves rotation in the spine.
甲、轉脊梁。主要肌肉。
A. Rotation in the spine works these muscles:
腹內斜 腹外斜 項半棘 背半棘等肌肉
internal oblique muscle, external oblique muscle, semispinalis cervicis, semispinalis thoracis.

心理上之關係
Psychological aspect:
此節動作。形態甚為美觀。並簡而易學。無論少長咸宜。練熟後。手法身法步法。自有生龍活虎之態。如此人安得不樂於學習乎。
This exercise looks very artistic, and yet it is also simple and easy to learn, as well as suitable for young and old alike. Once you have practiced it to a level of skillfulness, these actions of your hands, body, and feet will be full of vitality. This being the case, how could anyone not enjoy learning it?

教育上之關係
Pedagogical aspect:
此節運動。非但鍛練體魄。活潑精神。而且有衞身抗敵之術。可為個人團體之保障。此頗合於現代教育上之需要。
This exercise not only toughens the body and livens the spirit, it is also useful for defending oneself against opponents. Since it can help ensure the safety of individuals within the group, it thus strongly aligns with the requirements of what should be taught in the modern age.

第三節 上肢運動
Section 3: AN EXERCISE FOR THE UPPER BODY

種類
Type of exercise:
原地運用掌肘指腕之伸縮。
Standing in place, you work the flexibility of your palms, elbows, fingers, and wrists.
術名
Name of the technique:
五花礮
EXPLOSIVE FLOURISHES
實用要訣
Keys to the exercise:
此節有伸捰刁拏鎖扣勾掛擒打。分合連環。各動作。各盡其手法之妙用。為應敵還敵之巧具。其出奇制勝之能。洵為武術之要訣也。
This exercise contains the elements of reaching out to catch, drawing in to seize, locking up, hanging aside, and capturing to strike. The movements are a continuous extending and withdrawing, and are entirely a matter of using subtle hand techniques to skillfully defend against and counterattack an opponent. The ability to defeat your opponent by using unexpected maneuvers is a hallmark of martial arts.

實習動作
Practice method:
預備
Preparation posture:
由立正抱肘。兩腳離開。與兩肩成垂直線。兩腿下彎。為四十五度。成半馬式。
From standing at attention, elbows wrapped back, your feet spread apart to shoulder width and your legs bend forty-five degrees to make a half horse-riding stance.

一、右拳變掌。向前斜下伸。指端向前。掌緣切地。掌底對小腹。距離約七寸許。臂膊伸直。肘內扣。腰直。胸挺。眼前視。出掌如切物。名曰切掌。如第一圖。
1. Your right fist becomes a palm and extends forward and diagonally downward, the fingertips pointing forward, the edge of the palm slicing toward the ground, the heel of the palm in line with and about three quarters of a foot away from your lower abdomen, with the arm straightening but the elbow covering inward. Your torso is upright, your chest sticking out, your gaze forward. The palm goes out as though it is slicing through an object, and thus it is called a “slicing palm”. See photo 3.1:

二、右掌上掛。同時大膊貼肋。屈肘內扣。手掌上掛。翻手腕向後。手心向前。掌卽右刁。虎口向上。手背近肩。約四寸許。先掛後刁。名曰掛掌。如第二圖。
2. Your right palm carries upward, the upper arm staying near your ribs, the elbow bending and covering inward. As the palm goes upward, the wrist turns outward so the center of the hand is facing forward. The palm then hooks to the right, the tiger’s mouth facing upward, the back of the hand a few inches away from the shoulder. First carry, then hook. This technique is called a “hanging palm”. See photo 3.2:

三、右掌斜向前伸。運掌底擊敵。右肩順手勢鬆開。腰稍轉向左。指端對鼻尖。手肘內扣。掌似荷葉。名曰荷葉掌。如第三圖。
3. Your right hand extends diagonally forward, sending the heel of the palm to strike an opponent. Your right shoulder loosens and extends along with the movement of the hand, and your torso slightly turns to the left. The fingertips are at nose level, the elbow covering inward. The palm is making a lotus-leaf shape, and thus is called a “lotus-leaf palm”. See photo 3.3:

四、右臂由前下斫。至大腿後方。同時掌卽變鈎。摟至臀後。手肘稍曲。上挑下摟。均須迅速活潑。而有精神。眼前平視。胸挺。腰直。以上四動。均半馬式。左拳仍抱肘。式如第四圖。
4. Your right arm then chops downward and goes past your [right] thigh, the palm becoming a hook, after which it will drag back until behind the buttock, the elbow slightly bent. The actions of carrying upward and then dragging downward have to be quick, lively, and spirited. Your gaze is forward and level. Your chest is sticking out and your torso is upright. These four movements are all performed in a half horse-riding stance. Your left fist remains in a wrapped-elbow position. See photo 3.4:

五、左拳變掌。向前斜下伸。指端向前。掌緣切地。掌底對小腹。距離約七寸許。臂膊伸直。肘內扣。腰直。胸挺。眼前視。出掌如切物。名曰切掌。如第五圖。
5. [Your right hand returns to your waist, then] your left fist becomes a palm and extends forward and diagonally downward, the fingertips pointing forward, the edge of the palm slicing toward the ground, the heel of the palm in line with and about three quarters of a foot away from your lower abdomen, with the arm straightening but the elbow covering inward. Your torso is upright, your chest sticking out, your gaze forward. The palm goes out as though it is slicing through an object, and thus it is called a “slicing palm”. See photo 3.5:

六、左掌上挑。同時大膊貼肋。屈肘內扣。手掌上掛。翻手腕向後。手心向前。掌卽左刁。虎口向上。手背近肩。約四寸許。先掛後刁。名曰掛掌。如第六圖。
6. Your left palm carries upward, the upper arm staying near your ribs, the elbow bending and covering inward. As the palm goes upward, the wrist turns outward so the center of the hand is facing forward. The palm then hooks to the left, the tiger’s mouth facing upward, the back of the hand a few inches away from the shoulder. First carry, then hook. This technique is called a “hanging palm”. See photo 3.6:

七、左掌斜向前伸。運掌底擊敵。左肩順手勢鬆開。腰稍轉向右。指對鼻尖。手肘內扣。掌似荷棄。名曰荷葉掌。如第七圖。
7. Your left hand extends diagonally forward, sending the heel of the palm to strike an opponent. Your left shoulder loosens and extends along with the movement of the hand, and your torso slightly turns to the right. The fingertips are at nose level, the elbow covering inward. The palm is making a lotus-leaf shape, and thus is called a “lotus-leaf palm”. See photo 3.7:

八、左臂由前下斫。至大腿後方。同時掌卽變鈎。摟至臀後。手腕稍曲。上挑下摟。均須迅速活潑。而有精神。眼前平視。胸挺腰直。以上四動。均半馬式。右手仍鈎於臀後。如第八圖。
8. Your left arm then chops downward and goes past your [left] thigh, the palm becoming a hook, after which it will drag back until behind the buttock, the elbow slightly bent. The actions of carrying upward and then dragging downward have to be quick, lively, and spirited. Your gaze is forward and level. Your chest is sticking out and your torso is upright. These four movements are all performed in a half horse-riding stance. Your right hand remains as a hook behind you [remains in a wrapped-elbow position according to the photos]. See photo 3.8:

生理上之關係
Physiological aspect:
此節練習兩臂大小諸肌與腱。各盡其伸縮翻轉之能。實為運動上肢之良好動作也。此項動作之複雜。按運動生理上之次序。『應列在運動次序三分之一』故列於第三節。當為腦系部間接之運動。誠為生理衞生必要之動作也。並將各主要肌肉功用分析如左。
This exercise trains the major and minor arm muscles. Its actions of extending, withdrawing, and arcing are indeed excellent movements for working the upper arm. This rather complex series of movements is in accordance with the method of arranging exercises for the best physiological effects: “A third of the exercises should be complex.” Therefore this exercise is placed third out of the first three. Due to its complexity, it is indirectly an exercise for the brain. It is also an indispensable exercise for promoting health. Listed below are the main muscles that are being worked:

掌肘指腕之伸縮卽髆骨向前。髆骨向下。髆骨向後。屈小臂與伸小臂。及掌向外。各動作。
These actions of extending and withdrawing the palm, elbow, fingers, and wrist involve a variety of movements including the shoulder blade moving forward, downward, and back, the forearm bending and extending, and the palm going outward.
甲、髆骨向前。主要肌肉。
A. The shoulder blade going forward works these muscles:
前鋸 胸大 胸小等肌肉
serratus anterior, pectoralis major, pectoralis minor.
乙、髆骨向下。主要肌肉。
B. The shoulder blade going downward works these muscles:
斜方 胸小 背闊 胸大等肌肉
trapezius, pectoralis minor, latissimus dorsi, pectoralis major.
丙、髆骨向後。主要肌肉。
C. The shoulder blade going back works these muscles:
腰方 背闊 大菱等肌肉
quadratus lumborum, latissimus dorsi, rhomboid major.
丁、屈小臂。主要肌肉。
D. Bending the forearm works these muscles:
肱雙頭 肱前 旋前圓 手與指之伸 手之伸等肌肉
biceps brachii, brachialis, pronator teres, hand & finger extensors.
戊、伸小臂。主要肌肉。
E. Extending the forearm works these muscles:
肱三頭 肱前 手與指之伸等肌肉
triceps brachii, brachialis, hand & finger extensors.
己、掌內外。主要肌肉。
F. The palm going outward works these muscles:
掌長 撓側伸腕短 尺側伸腕等肌肉
palmaris longus, extensor carpi radialis brevis, extensor carpi ulnaris.

心理上之關係
Psychological aspect:
此節動作。練習眼明手快之技能。凡動作之遲速。以思索力之敏鈍為轉移。練習此種運動。當有比較之姓質。而生競爭之心。則收心理上之功用大矣。
This exercise trains guickness of eyes and hands. Whatever the speed of your movement, focus on switching nimbly from one movement to another. Practicing this kind of exercise will help to build a more ambitious nature and develop a more competitive mindset, and therefore it is a very useful psychological tool.

教育上之關係
Pedagogical aspect:
此節運動。練習心靈手敏。以之為學。必日進於高明之域。以之接物。有隨機應變之方。對於智育關係綦重。
This exercise trains agility of both mind and hand. To become educated, you have to constantly increase your range of qualifications, because to deal with the world, you have to have the means to adapt to situations. Such an exercise is thus extremely helpful for one’s intellectual development.

第四節 腰胯運動(兼全身之動作)
Section 4: AN EXERCISE FOR THE WAIST & HIPS (as well as the whole body)

種類
Type of exercise:
原地彈機活步。左右閃轉踹踢。
This is a method of staying where you are and performing a “snapping step”, as well as suddenly turning to the side and sending out a kick.
術名
Name of the technique:
雙稱十字腿。
CROSS-SHAPED KICK
實用要訣
Keys to the exercise:
武術致勝。多在進退。且進退之要。必須腰腿一致。以拳腳之動作為轉移。所行之動作貴速。以不誤拳腳致勝之機為合法。此節拳腳。務須全體一致。其發拳腳須有抨簧之靈。始收致勝之効也。
Victory through martial arts often comes down to advancing and retreating. To advance and retreat effectively, your waist and hips have to function as a single unit. The movements of your fists and feet should be quick but should not be mis-timed. For this exercise, your hands and feet have to work together. Your punches and kicks must shoot out with the nimbleness of mechanical springs, and then you will be able to achieve victory.

實習動作
Practice method:
預備
Preparation posture:
立正抱肘。式面向南。
Stand at attention, elbows wrapped back, facing toward the south.
一、左腳向東北出一步。同時兩拳變掌。由西南上角成陰陽和合掌。猛向東北拏扎。左手拏至腰間。仍抱肘式。右掌變拳。西南上角往下打。手心向上。右大膊貼於肋。成左弓式。面向東。此種動作。名曰前拏手。與後扎手。如第一圖。
1. Your left foot takes a step out to the northeast as your fists become palms, which come together as prayer palms pointing toward the southwest and then fiercely jabbing toward the northeast. Then your left hand [again becoming a fist] pulls back to your waist, returning to the wrapped-elbow position, as your right palm becomes a fist and strikes toward the southwest, the center of the hand facing upward, the upper arm staying near your ribs. You are in a left bow stance, your torso facing toward the east. This technique is called GRABBING & JABBING. See photo 4.1:

二、左拳由腰間直向東北上角衝出。與鼻平。同時右扎。拳收囘。置於腰間。仍抱肘式。此動作名曰應面拳。如第二圖。
2. Your left fist thrusts upward to the northeast until at nose level, your right fist at the same time withdrawing to be placed at your waist, again making a wrapped-elbow position. This movement is called “punch to the face”. See photo 4.2:

三、右拳向東斜下衝出。與心房齊。同時左拳上挑。面向東。腰直。胸挺。眼前視。此動作名曰黑虎搗心式。如第三圖。
3. Your right fist thrusts out diagonally toward the east to be at solar plexus level as your left fist carries upward. You are facing toward the east. Your torso is upright and your chest is sticking out. Your gaze is forward. This technique is called BLACK TIGER GOES FOR THE HEART. See photo 4.3:

四、雙拳變掌。左掌向上。與右掌交叉。在頂前。手心向外。同時轉體向左閃。眼前視。挺胸。直腰。此動作名曰過頂式。如第四圖。
4. Your fists become palms and cross in front of your headtop [chest according to the photo], left palm on top, the palms facing outward, as your torso turns to the left. Your gaze is forward. Your chest is sticking out and your torso is upright. This technique is called PASSING OVER THE HEADTOP. See photo 4.4:

五、兩掌左右下落。合於懷前相切。卽提起右腿。腰直。胸挺。眼平視。此動作名曰懷中抱月式。如第五圖。
5. Your palms lower to the sides and then come together in front of your chest as your right leg lifts. Your torso is upright and your chest is sticking out. Your gaze is level. This technique is called EMBRACING THE MOON. See photo 4.5:

六、雙掌向東西撐開。左掌與頭頂平。右掌與肩平。同時右腿向東排出。腿伸直。成九十度直角。全身向左閃。眼視東。名曰雙稱腿。如第六圖。
6. Your palms brace away toward the east and west, your left palm at headtop level, your right palm at shoulder level, as your right leg kicks out to the east, your legs straightening and making a ninety degree angle, your torso turning to the left. Your gaze is toward the east. This technique is called KICK WITH BOTH PALMS BRACING. See photo 4.6 [missing from the book, but we can fill the gap by reversing photo 4.12]:

七、承上右腿排出。右腳尚未落地時。左腿彈起向後退。右腳卽落於左腳所立之部位。此謂為彈機活步。同時右掌卽向東南拏至腰間。成抱肘式。左掌卽握拳向東下扎。左膊貼肋。手心向上。如第七圖。
7. Continuing from your right leg kicking out, before your right foot has fully come down, your left foot suddenly retreats, and then your right foot comes down next to your left foot. This action is called a “snapping step”. At the same time, your right hand [again becoming a fist] pulls back toward the southeast to make the wrapped-elbow position at your waist, and then your left palm grasps into a fist and strikes toward the east, the upper arm staying near your ribs, the center of the hand facing upward. See photo 4.7:

八、右拳由腰間直向東北上角衝出。與鼻平。同時左扎。拳收囘置於腰間。仍抱肘式。此動作名曰應面拳。如第八圖。
8. Your right fist thrusts upward to the northeast until at nose level, your left fist at the same time withdrawing to be placed at your waist, again making a wrapped-elbow position. This movement is called “punch to the face”. See photo 4.8:

九、左拳向東斜下衝出。與心房齊。同時右拳上挑。面向東。腰直。胸挺。眼視前。此動作名曰黑虎搗心式。如第九圖。
9. Your left fist thrusts out diagonally toward the east to be at solar plexus level as your right fist carries upward. You are facing to the east. Your torso is upright and your chest is sticking out. Your gaze is forward. This technique is called BLACK TIGER GOES FOR THE HEART. See photo 4.9:

十、雙拳變掌。右掌向上。與左掌交叉在頂前。手心向外。同時轉體向右閃。眼視前。挺胸。直腰。此動作名曰過頂式。如第十圖。
10. Your fists become palms and cross in front of your headtop [chest according to the photo], right palm on top, the palms facing outward, as your torso turns to the right. Your gaze is forward. Your chest is sticking out and your torso is upright. This technique is called PASSING OVER THE HEADTOP. See photo 4.10:

十一、兩掌左右下落。合於懷前相切。卽提起右腿。腰直。挺胸。眼平視。此動作名曰懷中抱月式。如第十一圖。
11. Your palms lower to the sides and then come together in front of your chest as your right [left] leg lifts. Your torso is upright and your chest is sticking out. Your gaze is level. This technique is called EMBRACING THE MOON. See photo 4.11:

十二、雙掌向東西撐開。右掌與頭頂平。左掌與肩平。同時左腿向東排出。腿伸直。成九十度直角。向右閃。眼視東。名曰雙稱腿。如第十二圖。
12. Your palms brace away toward the east and west, your right palm at headtop level, your left palm at shoulder level, as your left leg kicks out to the east, your legs straightening and making a ninety degree angle, your torso turning to the right. Your gaze is toward the east. This technique is called KICK WITH BOTH PALMS BRACING. See photo 4.12:

生理上之關係
Physiological aspect:
此節為彈機活步之動作。能振動內臟。激刺腸胃。且能助增消化力。促進血液循環。使各關節之腱增强彈力性。並將各主要肌肉之功用。分析如左。
This exercise involves a “snapping step”, which gives a shake to the internal organs, particularly stimulating the stomach and intestines, thereby aiding digestion. It also promotes better blood circulation and enhances the elasticity of the tendons in the joints. Listed below are the main muscles that are being worked:

一、前後手拏扎。卽兩臂下垂與屈伸小臂之動作。
1. The hands pulling back and jabbing forward involves the arms being pulled down, as well as the forearm bending and extending.
甲、兩臂下垂。主要肌肉。
A. Pulling the arms down works these muscles:
背闊 大圓 斜方下三分之一 胸大等肌肉
latissimus dorsi, teres major, lower trapezius, pectoralis major.
乙、屈小臂。主要肌肉。
B. Bending the forearm works these muscles:
肱二頭 肱前 肱前 前旋圓等肌肉
biceps brachii, brachialis, pronator teres.
兩臂上伸下伸。卽伸小臂。丙、伸小臂。主要肌肉。
C. Extending the forearm works these muscles:
肱三頭 胸大 橈側伸腕短 尺側伸腕等肌肉
triceps brachii, pectoralis major, extensor carpi ulnaris.

提腿舉腿側排。卽大腿前舉。及左右展開之動作。二、左右閃轉踹踢。卽大腿前舉。及左右展開之動作。
2. Suddenly turning and kicking to the side involves the upper leg raising in front and then the leg extending to the side.
甲、大腿前舉。及左右展開。主要肌肉。
A. Raising the upper leg and extending to the side works these muscles:
梨狀 內閉 孖上孖下 縫匠 闊筋膜張等肌肉。
piriformis, internal obturator, superior gemellus, inferior gemellus, sartorius, tensor fasciae latae.

心理上與教育上之關係。
Psychological & pedagogical aspects:
俱見前節。
Same as in the previous exercise.

第五節 快速運動(兼有彈機跳躍之動作)
Section 5: AN EXERCISE FOR QUICKNESS (as well as explosiveness and jumping)
種類
Type of exercise:
彈機躍進快速之運動。
This is an exercise for developing ability for explosiveness and jumping.
術名
Name of the technique:
百步花。
TRAMPLING FLOWERS
實用祕法
Keys to the exercise:
要旨。練習身體輕捷。手腳靈便。為運用閃轉進步之妙法。及登高涉遠諸動作。有絕大之關係。常練能使手腳敏捷。進能取。退能守。行如飛。快如風。制勝於十步之外。此為武術之要法也。
The main idea is to train agility in the body and nimbleness in the hands and feet. It is an excellent exercise for improving dodging, turning, and advancing, and most of all for moving over large distances. Constant practice of it will make your hands and feet quick, so that you will be able to attack when you advance and defend when you retreat. Move as though flying, fast as wind. You should be able to rush in and subdue an opponent even when he is more than ten paces away. This is an important martial arts principle.

實習方法
Practice method:
預備動作
Preparation posture:
立正抱肘
Stand at attention, elbows wrapped back:
眼前視。挺胸。直腰。兩腳踵靠攏。腳尖分開。距離九十度。兩掌握拳。曲兩肘為九十度。兩拳置於腰間。肘尖向後。
Your gaze is forward, chest sticking out, your torso upright. Your heels are together, toes spread apart to make a ninety degree angle. Your hands grasp into fists and your arms bend into ninety degree angles as your fists are placed at your waist, elbows pointing behind you.

一、撩左掌。出左步。
1. Raise your left palm, stepping out with your left foot:
左拳變掌。伸直。由胯外向上撩。肘尖裏扣。成柳葉掌。同時左腳向前出一步。腳尖點地。腿曲成一百八十度四分之一。右拳仍抱肘。右腿稍曲。欲得姿勢準確。則掌尖與肩尖齊。成半弧形。鼻尖與肩尖對齊。肘與膝蓋腳尖對齊。前肘與後肘對齊。前膝與後膝對齊。名曰五齊。形似月斧。名曰闊斧式。如第一圖。
Your left fist becomes a palm and stands straight, raising upward from your [left] hip as a willow-leaf palm, the elbow covering inward. At the same time, your left foot steps forward, the toes touching down, the leg bent to a forty-five degree angle, your right fist remaining in a wrapped-elbow position, your right leg slightly bent. To get the posture to be precise, the fingertips of your palm should be at shoulder level, the arm making a half circle, and the shoulder should be pulled forward enough to be in line with your nose, the elbow should be in line with the knee and toes [of your front leg], your front elbow should be in line with your rear elbow, and your front knee should be in line with your rear knee. These are called the “five alignments”. The shape [of your front arm] is like a crescent-moon ax, or what is called a “broad ax”. See photo 5.1:

二、伸右腿。
2. Extend your right leg:
提右腿。曲膝。至九十度。向前伸。足尖斜向上。足踵用勁。向前排出。同時卽落地。名曰排腳式。如第二圖。
Your right leg lifts with the knee bent to make a ninety degree angle, then extends forward with the toes pointing diagonally upward, pushing out forward with power expressing at the heel, then immediately comes down. This technique is called a “crushing kick”. See photo 5.2:

三、右腳落於左腳前。卽提左腿。曲為九十度。腳尖向上。腳底稍向前。同時左掌由前向後。囘至腰間下擺。右拳變掌。伸直。由右胯外上撩。成柳葉掌。指尖對肩尖。肘尖裏扣。指尖至肩尖成半弧形。肘尖對腳尖。前膝對後膝。惟右腳落地時。用彈力。臨空搶步而進。卽向前搶一步。名曰右搶步腿。如第三圖。
3. Your right foot comes down in front of your left foot and then your left leg lifts forward, the knee bending to make a ninety degree angle, the toes lifted so that the sole of the foot is facing slightly forward. At the same time, your left palm swings downward and to the rear, withdrawing to your waist, while your right fist becomes a palm and stands straight, raising upward from your right hip as a willow-leaf palm, the fingertips at shoulder level, the elbow covering inward. The arm is making a half circle, the elbow is in line with your [left] toes, and your front knee is in a line with your rear knee [hip]. When your left foot comes down, it does so with a snapping energy, advancing as though walking on a tightrope, going forward with a “scraping step” [which is another way of describing the crushing kick]. This technique is called a “right scraping kick”. See photo 5.3:

四、左腳卽向前落地。卽提右腿向前曲膝。為九十度。足尖向上。腳底稍向前。同時右臂由前向後。囘至腰間。下擺。左掌上挑。成柳葉掌。指尖對肩尖。肘尖裏扣。惟左腳落下。用彈力卽向前搶一步。名曰左搶步腿。如此循環。搶腿演進。但前進時。兩臂前後擺動。順勢臨空搶步而進。左右連續運動。欲停則左腳搶步時。停於右腳上。卽向成闊斧式。如第四圖。
4. Your left foot comes down in front and then your left leg lifts forward, the knee bending to make a ninety degree angle, the toes lifted so that the sole of the foot is facing slightly forward. At the same time, your right arm swings downward and to the rear, withdrawing to your waist, while your left palm carries upward as a willow-leaf palm, the fingertips at shoulder level, the elbow covering inward. When your left foot comes down, it does so with a snapping energy, going forward with a scraping step. This technique is called a “left scraping kick”. Continue in this way over and over, advancing with scraping kicks. While you advance as though walking on a tightrope, your arms swing forward and back. It is a continuous movement on both sides. If you want to stop, then when your left foot goes out with a scraping step, your right leg steps forward [into an empty stance] and you halt in the broad-ax posture [on the other side]. See photo 5.4:

生理上之關係
Physiological aspect:
左右交互。提腿搶步前進。所以使胯骨關節敏活舒暢。幷能振盪腸胃。旣助消化。亦可免便祕等症。並將各主要肌肉之功用。分析如左。
Both sides are worked equally as you lift each leg and advance with scraping steps, which livens the hips joints. This exercise can also stimulate the intestines and stomach, thereby aiding digestion, and can prevent constipation. Listed below are the main muscles that are being worked:

一、手前挑後擺。卽臂前舉與下垂之動作。
1. For the movements of the hand carrying forward and hanging down to swing behind:
甲、兩臂前舉。主要肌肉。
A. Raising the arm forward works these muscles:
三角 喙突肱 胸大 肱二頭等肌肉
deltoids, coracobrachialis, pectoralis major, biceps brachii.
乙、兩臂下垂。主要肌肉。
B. Lowering the arm behind works these muscles:
背闊 大圓 斜方下三分之一 胸大等肌肉 舉大腿 伸小腿
latissimus dorsi, teres major, lower trapezius, pectoralis major.

二、舉大腿與伸小腿之動作。
2. For the movements of raising the upper leg and extending the lower leg:
甲、舉大腿。主要肌肉。
A. Raising the upper leg works these muscles:
縫匠 闊筋膜張 恥骨 A股直等肌肉
sartorius, tensor fasciae latae, pectineus, rectus femoris.
乙、伸小腿。主要肌肉。
B. Extending the lower leg works these muscles:
股四頭 A股直 B股外 C股內 D股中等肌肉
Quadriceps (rectus femoris, vastus lateralis, vastus medialis, vastus intermedius).

心理上之關係
Psychological aspect:
此節練習手腳輕捷靈敏。為自然跳躍之動作。當為少長咸宜之運動也。而於此種動作。又便易於學習。興趣亦濃。並能增人勇敢進取之心。關乎心理上。確有莫大之關係也。
This exercise trains nimbleness in the hands and feet, and promotes naturalness in jumping. Suitable for young and old alike, this is an exercise that is easy to learn and very enjoyable. It can also help increase a person’s fortitude, and so it is of great psychological relevance.

教育上之關係
Pedagogical aspect:
此節動作。可以發展敏速判斷決斷勇敢膽量啓發機警各優良之本性。而於教育上最有關係。要在教者之善用利導耳。
This exercise can develop quick wits, judgment, decisiveness, courage, boldness, awareness, and vigilance. These are excellent qualities to have, are especially relevant when it comes to teaching, and are indeed necessary for teachers to be able give good guidance.

第六節 舒緩運動(卽調和之動作)
Section 6: AN EXERCISE FOR SLOWNESS (i.e. a harmonizing movement)
種類
Type of exercise:
原地運用指腕及臂之擺動。幷轉動軀幹及腿之伸縮。
Standing in one place, your fingers, wrists, and forearms sway back and forth. The torso also twists and the legs are correspondingly extending and bending along with it.
術名
Name of the technique:
翻江搗海。
DIVERTING THE RIVER AND TURNING BACK THE SEA
實用要訣
Keys to the exercise:
要旨。係練吞吐連環之法。為擒拏鎖扣之用。欲研究武術之眞諦。以此為入門之要訣也。
The gist of the exercise is the practice of continuously inhaling and exhaling during these actions of seizing and locking. If you want to study the true essence of martial arts, this [coordinating of breath with movement] is a fundamental principle.

實習方法
Practice method:
預備
Preparation posture:
由立正抱肘。兩腳離開。與兩肩成垂直線。兩腿下彎為四十五度。成半馬式。
From standing at attention, elbows wrapped back, your feet spread apart to shoulder width and your legs bend forty-five degrees to make a half horse-riding stance.
一、兩拳變掌。向左側邏。右掌心向上。左掌心向下。同時軀幹順手勢向左轉。眼視兩掌。左臂平曲於胸前。右肘近貼於肋。小臂平屈於心前。兩手大拇指與四指成鉗形。兩手心上下相應。距離約七八寸許。如第一圖。
1. Your fists become palms and swing out to the left with your right palm facing upward and left palm facing downward, your torso going along with your hands by twisting to the left. Your gaze is toward your hands. Your left arm is horizontal and bent, the forearm in front of your chest, and your right elbow is near your [right] ribs, the arm bent, the forearm horizontal in front of your solar plexus. The thumb and fingers of each hand are making a slight claw shape. The palms are facing each other above and below, about three quarters of a foot apart. See photo 6.1:

二、兩掌卽翻轉。而臂則上下互換位置。右臂平曲於胸前。左肘近貼於肋。小臂平屈於心前。兩手手指仍成鉗形。兩手心仍上下相應。距離約七八寸許。
2. Then your palms rotate as your arms switch their positions above and below. Your right arm is horizontal and bent, the forearm in front of your chest, and your left elbow is near your [left] ribs, the arm bent, the forearm horizontal in front of your solar plexus. The thumb and fingers of each hand are making a slight claw shape. The palms facing each other above and below, about three quarters of a foot apart. See photo 6.2:

兩手擒拏平行。緩緩向右。軀幹順勢亦右轉。如第二第三圖。
Your hands in this seizing position move slowly across to the right, your torso going along with your hands by twisting to the right. See photo 6.3:

三、兩掌再翻轉。而臂則又上下互換位置。右肘貼肋。小臂平屈於心前。左臂平曲於胸前。兩手手指仍成鉗形。卽緩緩向左。
3. Then your palms rotate as your arms switch their positions above and below. Your right elbow is near your [right] ribs, the arm bent, the forearm horizontal in front of your solar plexus, and your left arm is horizontal and bent, the forearm in front of your chest. The thumb and fingers of each hand are making a slight claw shape. See photo 6.4 (after which your hands will again go slowly across to the left):

如斯反復來去兩手手指如撕綿狀。則得手指功夫更大。而兩臂不可拘緊使勁。腰隨身擺。自如來往。吞淸吐濁。自有妙處生。如第四圖。
Repeatedly go back and forth in this way, with your fingers seeming to be ripping silk, which will increase skill in the fingers, but your arms should not be exerting strength. With your waist going along with the movement, your torso swaying, you will go back and forth smoothly. By drawing in clean air [inhaling as the hands rotate] and expelling stale air [exhaling as the hands go across], you will get the knack of it.

生理上之關係
Physiological aspect:
此節為調劑快速運動。使心臟漸漸平復。為生理上必然之次序。
This is an exercise of regulating speed of movement, causing the heartbeat to gradually calm down, which will lead to further physiological benefits.

心理上之關係(同前節)
Psychological aspect:
此節動作。從容以和。優游自得。有心曠神怡之妙。
Same as in the previous exercise [in that it increases fortitude]. This movement is also calm and harmonious, leisurely and contented, wonderfully carefree.

教育上之關係
Pedagogical aspect:
此節動作。可以養成鎭定。涵養。堅忍。謀略。耐勞。自主等。各優良之德性。為教育上所必需。亦視教者之善導耳。
This movement can cultivate calmness and restraint, perseverance and planning, hard work and initiative, all good qualities essential for teaching, and which show the teacher to be a good leader.

第七節 呼吸運動
Section 7: A BREATHING EXERCISE

種類
Type of exercise:
兩臂翻轉伸縮。助肺部吸淸吐濁。為呼吸之運動。
The arms rotate back and forth, and extend and retract, to assist the lungs at drawing in clean air and expelling stale air. This is an exercise of inhaling and exhaling.
術名
Name of the technique:
一元復始。
RETURNING TO A PRIMORDIAL STATE
實用要訣
Keys to the exercise:
此節要旨。為練習活動兩臂筋骨。使肺擴張。運氣貫於丹田。為國術練氣之要訣也。
The main idea in this exercise is to use the working of the arm muscles to get the lungs to expand and energy to course through to the elixir field. This is a key to energy training in martial arts. [This may seem contrary to the usual idea of relaxing muscles to let energy flow through.]

實習方法
Practice method:
預備
Preparation posture:
開立抱肘式。(開立卽兩腳分開。距離大小。則與兩肩成垂直線為度。)
From standing at attention with your elbows wrapped back, your feet spread apart to about shoulder width.
一、由開立抱肘。兩臂向左右撐開為一呼氣。而兩手心須向左右。指端向上。十指乍開。則脈絡伸張。而氣血則易貫通。然後兩臂緩緩向後翻轉。至掌心向上。為一度吸氣。兩臂復又緩緩向前翻轉。為一度呼氣。如斯反復六次。惟運動兩臂。務必用力。向左右撐開。則收效更大。證之尺骨橈骨肩胛骨諸經絡肌肉非常酸楚。可以知運用筋骨之功矣。如第一圖。
1. From the feet-apart wrapped-elbows position, your arms brace away to the sides as you exhale, your palms facing to the sides, fingertips pointing upward, fingers spread open. This stretches the arteries and veins so that energy and blood can more easily flow through. Then your arms slowly rotate toward the rear until the palms are facing upward as you inhale. Then your arms slowly rotate forward again [to return to the position of bracing outward with the palms facing to the sides] as you exhale. Do these rotations back and forth six times. For the movement of the arms, you should be exerting strength as you brace away to the sides in order to receive greater benefit. You will be able to tell from the sense of soreness in the energy channels and muscles around the ulna, radius, and scapula that this is also an exercise for developing strength. See photo 7.1:

二、承上兩臂左右撐開。緩緩向內收縮於兩肋旁。然後復向下緩緩垂直。指端向前。又緩曲十指為拳。如是則告終止矣。如第二圖。
2. Continuing from the previous posture, your arms slowly retract inward to be beside your ribs [as you inhale], then slowly go downward to hang straight with the fingers pointing forward [as you exhale], the fingers then slowly curling in to form fists [returning to the wrapped-elbows position]. This concludes the exercises. See photo 7.2:

生理上之關係
Physiological aspect:
此節動作。有呼出炭氣吸收養氣之功用。人生之需養氣。較飲食為尤要。故呼吸關於生理甚大。
The function of this exercise is purely to exhale carbon dioxide and inhale oxygen. Human beings require oxygen even more than food and water, therefore breathing has enormous physiological relevance.

心理上之關係
Psychological aspect:
孟子曰。氣體之充也。故久練呼吸。則氣充滿乎四體。而有心雄萬夫之槪。
Mengzi said [Mengzi, chapter 2a]: “[The mind leads the energy,] the energy fills the body.” After long-term breath training, energy fills the four limbs and you will have the heart of ten-thousand heroes.

教育上之關係
Pedagogical aspect:
研究學業。全在精神貫注。然氣不足。則精神從何而有。所以練習呼吸。氣足神完。而後可藥學者萎靡不振之病。
Studying is an entirely mental occupation. But if you have no energy, how would your mind be able to function? Through training the breath, your energy will be sufficient to get your mind fully switched on, and thus you will be able to cure lethargy for learning.

– – –

[This book was later reprinted by 大東書局 Great East Bookstore in Nov, 1930, expanded by an additional preface and a postscript, which are included below.]

再版科學化的國術弁言
PREFACE TO THE REPRINTED EDITION

三民主義之下革命軍統一華夏奠都南京百廢俱興昔軍閥政府素不注意之武術今迺一躍而為黨國要人所重視中央設立國術館各省市設分館上年首都舉行國術考試盛極一時今秋浙省亦有全國國術遊藝會之舉追憶八年前海上舉行第五屆遠東運動大會參加會員為中日菲三國健兒運動種類大都為田徑賽和球類而我國固有之體育則付缺如靑竊以為恥每思有以發揚之得一吐氣於碧眼黃髯之前是年適舉為江蘇省教育會體育研究會會長並主持中華武術會於是職責所在義無反顧遂挺身向遠東運動會籌備處交涉請求加入以表我國固有之武術以振我國尚武之精神該會主幹為美人葛雷博士初不允所請且謂貴國武術旣乏教育之價値又不合生理之需要如果加入恐為會衆所不取靑聞之不服再三與之辯難始由麥克樂先生從中斡旋且力贊靑所研究之武術切合科學並請予以機會參加始獲葛雷允許及後省教育會開會議決又推靑主持選擇教材加入大會表演並由縣教育局通令各校預備研究靑卽將固有之武術按教育之原理依生理之次序心理之要求技術之實用編輯而成按程授課不期月而成效大著茲將當時預會及大會時各界贊許之評論分別摘錄於后
The Revolutionary Army, fighting for “The Three Principles of the People”, unified China, established Nanjing as the capital, and carried out countless tasks that had been neglected. When the warlords governed, they typically paid no attention to martial arts. But now that we have made the leap to a proper party-run state, those in power take martial arts seriously. They have established the Central Martial Arts Institute, as well as branch schools in every province and city. Last year, the National Martial Arts Tournament was held in the capital and caused quite a sensation. This autumn, another national martial arts competition will be held in Zhejiang.
  I remember that eight years ago the 5th Far Eastern Championship Games was held in Shanghai [May 30–June 4, 1921]. The participating athletes were from the three nations of China, Japan, and the Philippines [as well as a few competitors representing India, Thailand, and Malaysia]. The events were mostly track-and-field games and ball sports, in which it became clear that our nation was abysmally lacking in physical education. I found the performance of our countrymen humiliating, and every time I thought about it, I sighed that I was getting more inspiration from the example set by blond blue-eyed Westerners.
  This year, I was chosen to be the president of the Jiangsu Educational Association’s Physical Education Research Department, while also presiding over the Chinese Martial Arts Association. I therefore felt it my duty to seek justice for our previous failure, and so I stood tall and walked into the preparatory office for the next Far Eastern Championship Games, where I asked for permission to give an exhibition at the Games to demonstrate our nation’s native martial arts and rouse our nation’s martial spirit.
  I met with an American, Dr. John Henry Gray, who at first would not give his consent, saying: “Your country’s martial arts lack any value as real physical education. They don’t even conform to physiological requirements. If you gave a demo, I doubt the participants and spectators would want to watch it.” I heard this but refused to accept it and debated the point with him over and over. Then his colleague C. H. McCloy came in and acted as an intermediary. He strongly commended my research on making our martial arts more scientific and asked that I be given the opportunity to put on the demonstration. It was this that gained Gray’s consent.
  The Educational Association later held a meeting in which they formally passed a resolution on the matter, and they also promoted me to presiding over the selecting of teaching materials. We held our exhibition at the Games. And then the County Bureau of Education circulated orders to all the schools to get ready to study martial arts! I subsequently presented our native martial arts to them in accordance with pedagogical principles, physiological processes, psychological requirements, and practical skills. I also wrote this book based on the lessons I had given, which quickly became considered a very relevant work.
  Included below are some extracts of laudatory discussion from various circles about our exhibition at the Games:

錄上海新申時各報 民十年五月七日
From the Shanghai Evening News (May 7, 1921):

中華武術會總幹事吳志靑君近編中國式新體操昨晚七時在一品香宴請各界商榷到者如遠東運動會主幹葛雷博士體育家郝伯陽武術家馬子貞紳商王一亭葉惠鈞教育家蘇穎傑沈恩孚報界邵力子戈公振謝介子謝强公女體育家郝映靑柏克菲女士等中西人士四十餘人席間由吳君表演並說明十餘年研究體育武術近按生理上心理上教育上之程序著成「中國新體操」今改「科學化的國術」曾親赴各高小學校教練已略睹成效現加入遠東運動會先於明日(八日)午後一時召集各學校學生假公共體育場會操第茲事體大深恐隕越貽譏因此敬請諸君光臨面請指示尚望諸君不吝賜教並加以提倡云云次葛雷博士演說體育之成功歸根於技術熱心精神三者今吳君蓋得之矣鄙人甚欲知中國人究合於何種體操云次邵力子先生演說深贊吳君以科學整理中國學問郝伯陽先生演說保存國粹從技術公開始柏克菲女士演說中國婦女必須與男女同一健康吳君在本校教授多年此種教材不但限於男子女子亦適用云九時許攝影而散
Secretary-general of the Chinese Martial Arts Association, Wu Zhiqing, author of China’s New Calisthenics, last night at 7pm gave a banquet to entertain a wide range of guests, such as: Dr. John Henry Gray, who is the organizer of the Far Eastern Championship Games, the physical education expert Hao Boyang, martial arts master Ma Zizhen, businessmen Wang Yiting and Ye Huijun, educators Su Yingjie and Shen Enfu, journalists Shao Lizi, Ge Gongzhen, Xie Jiezi, and Xie Qianggong, women’s physical education experts Ms. Hao Yingqing and Ms. Bai Kefei, and so on, altogether more than forty people, both Chinese and Westerners.
  In the middle of the banquet, Wu gave a demonstration. He then also discussed his more than ten years of research into martial arts and his physiology-psychology-pedagogy approach. He has recently changed the title of his book China’s New Calisthenics to Scientific Martial Arts. He has also personally taught this material in all levels of schools, which has visibly produced results, and it is now going to be a feature in the Far Eastern Championship Games.
  Starting at 1pm tomorrow (May 8), students from various schools will gather together at the public sports stadium to drill the exercises as a large group. Wu is taking this matter very seriously, fearing that if such an exhibition fails, Chinese martial arts may face a future of ridicule. Because of this, he has invited all of these distinguished guests to come and personally view a rehearsal demonstration of the exhibition for the Games. He nevertheless hopes that everyone present will not hold back any criticism in addition to merely giving encouragement.
  Dr. Gray then delivered a speech about the triumphs of physical education, and said: “It all comes down to the three qualities of skill, dedication, and spirit. Wu is the embodiment all of these things. I very much look forward to seeing how the education of the Chinese people is preparing them for all types of athletic activity.”
  Then Shao Lizi gave a speech strongly commending Wu’s use of science to improve this field of Chinese learning, Hao Boyang gave a speech about preserving China’s cultural essence by spreading such skills to the public, and Ms. Bai Kefei gave a speech about how Chinese women need to be just as healthy as the men, saying: “Wu has been teaching in our school for several years now that this material is not only for men, but should also be learned by women.”
  At about 9pm, some photographs were taken and then the guests went home.

摘錄上海新申時各報評論 民十年五月九日
A couple of reviews of the event in the Shanghai Evening News (May 9, 1921):

大南門中華路民立中學於昨日午後一時假西門外公共體育場舉行春季運動會中外來賓共約八千餘人由該校校長蘇穎傑君與職教員及學生殷殷招待會中秩序甚佳並有童子軍在場照料會中有參與此次遠東運動會之六小學校縣立一高二師附屬和安養正育材潮惠會操該校教員吳志靑君編著「應用武術中國新體操」今改「科學化的國術」最為引人注目均精美可觀至六時始盡歡而散
[1] Yesterday at 1pm, the Establish-the-People High School, near the South Gate on Cathay Road, took over the public sports stadium just outside the West Gate to hold a special kind of springtime sports meet. There were altogether more than eight thousand people there to see it, both Chinese and foreign. Receiving all these guests were Principal Su Yingjie, the teachers from the school, and the students. The gathering was very organized, maybe because the Boy Scouts were also there to help out.
  The reason for the gathering is that students from six schools (Shanghai County 1st College’s 2nd Teacher-Training Attached School, Harmony & Peace Elementary School, Municipal Uniformed Elementary School, Raising Talent Elementary School, and Spreading Benevolence Elementary School) are getting ready to demonstrate a large-scale drill exercise within this year’s Far Eastern Championship Games.
  Thanks to instructor Wu Zhiqing, who authored Using Martial Arts to Make China’s New Calisthenics, recently re-titled as Scientific Martial Arts, this exhibition of exercise will be a spectacle that is definitely worth seeing. By 6pm, the performing students were finally exhausted trying to get everything perfect for the event and it was time to go home.

參加遠東運動會的體操與疊羅漢節目為萬里長城崑崙山脈十大名山賓塔等及歡呼六項此項運動為中華武術會吳志靑君所編稱為「中國新體操」今改「科學化的國術」今日表演卽為此屆參與遠東運動會之預備也制服一律白色背心短袴黑襪胸前懸徑六七寸國徽一方先是各校學生排列場外導以國旗軍樂入場環行一週然後排一橫隊再分六小隊由教者指示表演每節作完間以歡呼聲浪齊一此次所演僅為第一第七兩節每一節完掌聲雷動其中以崑崙山寶塔二節為尤佳而學生動作活潑參觀者無不嘖嘖稱賞
[2] The exhibition group for the Far Eastern Championship Games has just performed group formations of “The Great Wall”, “Kunlun Mountains”, “Ten Famous Mountains”, “The Pagoda”, and so on, earning them six swells of applause.
  This exercise event is headed by Wu Zhiqing of the Chinese Martial Arts Association, who authored China’s New Calisthenics, lately re-titled Scientific Martial Arts. Their performance today is a rehearsal for the Far Eastern Championship Games. They were all dressed in white tank-tops and shorts, black socks, and each holding the national emblem several inches in front of their chests.
  All the students were first arranged into their positions outside the stadium, then were led into the stadium by national flags and military band music. They made a full circuit of the field then lined up into rows, divided into six teams, and each team performed under the directions of an instructor. With the finish of each part of the demonstration came a surge of cheers.
  On this occasion, only the first and seventh exercises were demonstrated, but they both produced thunderous applause. Among the exercises displayed, the group formations of “Kunlun Mountains” and “The Pagoda” were especially impressive. The movements of the students were very lively and the spectators all hollered their admiration.

遠東運動會會務日報詳記中國武術遊藝盛况
A couple reports on the Chinese Martial Arts Exhibition from the Far Eastern Championship Games Bulletin:

第五次遠東運動大會民十年六月四日午後二時半表演中國武術遊藝評「眞可謂為國增光了」
一、入場 午後二時半中華武術會會員和養正等學校學生約五百人由司令吳志靑君導入場內先環行一週然後列一橫隊前列軍樂高唱國歌音韻悠揚全場肅然
二、服裝 武術會會員全著技擊用特製衣服養正等學校學生全體白帽白背心短袴和黑鞋黑襪手中各執國旗一面背心前面亦各縫國旗一方每一動作時光耀眩色極為悅目
三、節目 所演各種遊藝可分三項(甲)中國新體操因為時間的關係祇演第一部第一和第七兩節(乙)疊羅漢(1)萬里長城(2)崑崙山脈(3)駱駝峯(4)名山(5)寶塔(丙)拳術單演如洪拳六合拳六合棍單刀查槍雙掌入門雙演如三把腰雙頭槍查拳月牙鏟雙劈單刀等甲乙兩項係養正等學校學生表演的丙項係武術會會員表演的
四、歡呼 入場後出場前和表演的時候常有歡呼聲音齊一很能振起他們自身和觀者的精神他們的歡呼共分有六種他們的表演極博中外人士的贊美因為他精神活潑操練的嫺熟和動作的整齊在在可令人稱贊他們在很多外國人的面前將本國國粹盡力表現出來使外人可以知道我國固有武術的眞價値眞可謂「為國增光了」現在東西洋人很重視我國的拳術還望國人要羣起來保存才好呢再吳志靑君所編的中國新體操是參用心理學和教育學生理學作根據的很有採作學校教材的價値也望國人提倡起來啊
同日海上各目報評「眞不愧稱中國新體操」
[1] As part of the 5th Far Eastern Championship Games, the Chinese Martial Arts Exhibition was held at 2:30pm on June 4, 1921 [final day of the Games, apparently serving as a kind of closing ceremony], and was praised thus: “It can truly be said that this brings glory to the nation!”
  1. The Entrance:
  At 2:30pm, the members of the Chinese Martial Arts Association and about five hundred uniformed school students entered the stadium, led by Wu Zhiqing. They first made a full circuit of the space, then lined up into rows and proudly sang the national anthem, a melodious sound that made the entire audience feel a sense of solemnity.
  2. The Uniforms:
  Members of the Martial Arts Association all wore specially made clothes for performing martial arts, but the bodies of the school students were uniformed in this way: white caps, white tank-tops and shorts, black shoes and socks. They each carried in their hands the national flag and wore the flag also as a design sewn onto the front of their shirts. With every movement, there was a dazzling display of color [since the flag at the time was the five-color flag] that was extremely pleasing to the eye.
  3. The Program:
  The exhibition was divided into three parts:
  A. China’s New Calisthenics: In the interest of time, they performed only the first and seventh exercises.
  B. They performed these group formations: 1. “The Great Wall”, 2. “Kunlun Mountains”, 3. “The Camel’s Hump”, 4. “Famous Mountains”, 5. “The Pagoda”.
  C. They performed solo demonstrations of martial art sets, such as: Hong Boxing, Liuhe Boxing, Liuhe Staff, Single Saber, Cha Spear, Double Palms Through the Door, and so on. And two-person sets, such as: Waist-Grappling, Double-Headed Spears, Chaquan, Crescent-Moon Shovels, Double Choppers, Single Sabers, and so on.
  Parts A and B were performed by groups of uniformed school students in unison. Part C was performed individually by members of the Martial Arts Association.
  4. The Applause:
  In the time between the performers entering the stadium and leaving it, there was continuous cheering, which inspired ever greater spirit from the performers and still greater cheers from the spectators, the cheers swelling to a peak six times. The performance was highly praised by both Chinese and foreigners, because everything was done with such lively spirit, skillful execution, and exquisite orderliness of movement.
  The performers stood before a great many foreigners and did their utmost to show the cultural essence of our nation, making those foreigners aware of the value of our nation’s native martial arts. Truly it can be said that “this has brought glory to the nation”. Now people from both the East and the West will take our boxing arts seriously and it is to be hoped that our countrymen will at last rally together to preserve them.
  China’s New Calisthenics, which Wu Zhiqing wrote in accordance with psychology, pedagogy, and physiology, has become highly valued as a textbook in schools. Our countrymen should encourage everyone else to read it too.
  On the very same day, various Shanghai newspapers judged it as “truly worthy of being called ‘China’s New Calisthenics’”.

昨日本埠南市中華武術會發起集合二師附屬縣立一高市立養正和安育材潮惠各小學校操練中國新體操由總教練吳志靑君指揮前導國旗會旗列隊遊行一週然後入場學生襟前各佩國徽一面服裝淸潔步伐整齊咸具活潑之精神其操練之程序
一、唱國歌抑揚頓挫英氣勃勃有不可一世之槪
二、演中國新體操今改「科學化的國術」動作美滿精神充足中外觀者無不同聲贊揚謂「眞不愧中國新體操」是時編者分送說明書內容分生理心理教育與實用要訣及疊羅漢之釋名與圖畫印刷精良受者頗為寶貴
三、歡呼聲音齊一頗能振起觀者和自身之精神
四、表演疊羅漢(甲)萬里長城(乙)崑崙山脈(丙)駱駝峯(丁)名山(戊)寶塔每演一節無不掌聲如雷深得觀衆之贊許體育家及各界之術會之武術刀光劍影虎鬭龍爭對練各種技藝之精妙間不容髮咸歎觀止其間有八十老翁何玉山與于振聲之三把腰楊奉眞吳志靑之對打四路查拳羅叔靑韓凌森之月牙鏟尤其特長倍增精采此次表演足為遠東運動會生色而為武術增光亦不少也
[2] Yesterday at this stadium in the southern part of the city, the Chinese Martial Arts Association sponsored a gathering of schools including Shanghai County 1st College’s 2nd Teacher-Training Attached School, Municipal Uniformed Elementary School, Harmony & Peace Elementary School, Raising Talent Elementary School, and Spreading Benevolence Elementary School to drill “China’s New Calisthenics”. Led by head coach Wu Zhiqing and each carrying the national flag and the banner for the Games, they arranged themselves into lines and entered the stadium. The front of their shirts was adorned with the national emblem, their clothes wore spotlessly clean, they marched in perfect order, and they all possessed a lively spirit. The performed their demonstration in this sequence:
  1. When they sang the national anthem, they filled it with heroic spirit, a rendition better than any of this generation so far.
  2. They then performed “China’s New Calisthenics”, or what is lately called “Scientific Martial Arts”. The movements were harmonious and full of spirit. It was unanimously praised by Chinese and foreign spectators alike declaring it “truly worthy of being called ‘China’s New Calisthenics’”. The author of the material divides the explanations in his book into perspectives from physiology, psychology, pedagogy, and the keys to each exercise.
  3. They also performed a series of group formations which led to the snapping of some spectacular photographs that are sure to be treasured. They performed these group formations: A. “The Great Wall”, B. “Kunlun Mountains”, C. “The Camel’s Hump”, D. “Famous Mountains”, E. “The Pagoda”.
  4. The cheers were a constant sound, which inspired still greater cheers from the spectators and ever greater spirit from the performers. Every part of the performance was met with thunderous applause and received the heartfelt praise of the spectators.
  These experts of physical education and a wide variety of skills also came together to show martial skill in the form of the flashing of sword versus saber, the struggle of dragon versus tiger, a variety of two-person sets so skillfully executed that spectators gasped at how narrowly the performers were missing each other. Among the most impressive were eighty-year old He Yushan & Yu Zhensheng’s demonstration of Waist-Grappling, Yang Fengzhen & Wu Zhiqing’s two-person 4th Set of Chaquan, Luo Shuqing & Han Lingsen’s sparring with Crescent-Moon Shovels, which were all spectacular.
  This exhibition at the Far Eastern Championship Games is very significant indeed and brings enormous prestige to martial arts.

統觀上述可見各界對本編表演之成績咸加推許則本編之價値亦可想而知
民國十八年秋九月吳志靑再誌
It is clear from the writings above that our exhibition achieved great success and received wide appreciation, which indicates that this book also seems to have some value.
  - written by Wu Zhiqing, Sep, 1929


POSTSCRIPT

吾國重文輕武。國術式微久矣。其間有習之者。或為方外僧侶。或屬江湖賣藝。所傳口訣。不偏於玄。卽失之陋。後世不察。反從而變本加厲。學者惑焉。余久欲以科學方法整理之而未見諸事實。今吳志靑先生以所著中國新體操見示。並囑為校閱。余觀其書。係按諸生理心理教育諸原理所編。與余所主張之科學者脗合。可謂國術傑作也。更名科學化的國術。洵無愧。且科學國術者。非推翻吾國固有國術而創造之謂也。如書中言上肢運動。卽少林十八法中朝天直舉排出運掌之意。軀幹運動。卽少林十八法中黑虎伸腰腿力跌蕩之意。快速運動。卽少林中吞吐浮沉迅如風電之意。舒緩運動。卽太極專氣致柔之意。閃轉用掌循行進退。卽八卦中靑龍轉身之意。呼吸運動。卽少林慧猛師所傳呼吸術。與河南派丹田提氣術西江派提桶子勁之意。以及言鴛鴦鯉魚鷂子等名稱者。亦無非華佗氏五禽戲。與少林五拳岳氏十二形之意。是皆本諸吾國固有之國術述而不作也。然則所謂科學化的國術者。惟用科學方法。改良國術。以期合於實用耳。故茲書出。固不可遽謂有强身强種强國之效。而補偏救弊。為國術界大放光明。此則余敢斷言者也。
中華民國十七年十二月廣濟呂光華書於中央國術館
Because our nation has had reverence for literary pursuits and looked down upon martial affairs, our martial arts have long been in decline. Among practitioners, whether they were mystical monks or wandering performers, the instructional poems were originally not very obscure, but then they gradually lost their simplicity [due to pressure to appear more scholarly]. Later generations were not paying attention to this effect and so the process dramatically increased until students are now utterly confused by the teachings that have been passed down.
  I had long hoped for scientific methods to be used to bring these arts back down to earth, but had not yet seen it put into practice until Wu Zhiqing wrote China’s New Calisthenics, which demonstrates exactly this, and he urged me to give it a readthrough. I have since read through his book and have found that his notes on physiological, psychological, and pedagogical principles fit well with the more scientific presentation I have been advocating for, and I therefore feel I can declare it to be a martial arts masterpiece. His changing of the title to Scientific Martial Arts also seems entirely justified.
  Making our martial arts scientific does not mean discarding our nation’s native martial arts and creating new ones in their place. Within this book, there is an exercise for the upper limbs [section 3] which is like the actions of “lifting to the sky” and then “pushing out with the palm” from Shaolin’s Eighteen Techniques; an exercise for the torso [section 2] which is like the actions of “black tiger stretches its back” and “using leg strength to knock down an opponent”, also from the Eighteen Techniques; an exercise for quickness [section 5] which is like the Shaolin principles of “absorb and send back, float and sink” and “be fast as wind and lightning”; a slow exercise [section 6] which implies the Taiji principle [from the Daodejing, chapter 10] of “focus on your breath and achieve softness” [and also resembles Taiji’s “clouding hands” movement]; an exercise of “suddenly turning around wielding palms while advancing and retreating” [section 1], which is similar to the Bagua technique of “blue dragon turns its body”; and a breathing exercise [section 7] that is reminiscent of the breathing arts passed down from Shaolin master Hui Meng, as well as the techniques of rousing energy in the elixir field found in styles in Henan and the exercises of “bucket-lifting power” found in styles in the Xi River area. There are also techniques involving “ducks” [section 2], “carps” [section 6], “hawks” [section 1], and so on, which are the same kind of thing as Hua Tuo’s Five Animal Frolics, Shaolin’s Five-Animal Boxing, or the Yue School’s Twelve Animals.
  These are all based on our nation’s native martial arts rather than creating something from scratch. The act of “making our martial arts more scientific” means using scientific methods to improve our martial arts with the intention of making them more practical. Therefore when this new edition of the book comes out, although it of course will not have the immediate effects of strengthening the body, strengthening the masses, and strengthening the nation, it will nevertheless rectify many errors, and so I dare to predict that the martial arts community will sing its praises loudly.
  - written by Lü Guanghua of Guangji, at the Central Martial Arts Institute, Dec, 1928

Il Maestro 朱向前Zhu Xiangqian (XX gen. Chenjiagou)

 

L’Istituto Italiano Taijiquan Tiancai – 意大利天才太极院 è ENTUSIASTA di annunciare che a Maggio il nostro Maestro e direttore tecnico Zhu Xiang Qian tornerà in Italia ad insegnare:

A breve seguiranno news e programmi.

L’articolo Il Maestro 朱向前Zhu Xiangqian (XX gen. Chenjiagou) proviene da 意大利天才太极院.

Hawkins Cheung and the Making of Modern Wing Chun History

 

 

Regrets

As many readers will already know, Master Hawkins Cheung Hok Jin passed away on Sunday February 3rd 2019, in Los Angeles.  Within the martial arts community regrets take many forms.  One of my great regrets is that I had never had a chance to study with Hawkins Cheung. Yet he still had a profound effect on my understanding of both the nature of this art and the wider Wing Chun community. When Jon Nielson and I were researching our book on the development of Wing Chun, we frequently found ourselves coming back to the published accounts and interviews that Hawkins Cheung had provided over the years. We felt that these were some of the best, most reliable, descriptions of Wing Chun’s early years in Hong Kong (1950s-1960s) that one could hope to find.

Some of these accounts have already gained a fairly wide following within the Wing Chun community as they provided a remarkably frank assessment of Hawkins Cheung’s relationship with both Bruce Lee (his close friend and schoolmate), as well as Ip Man, his Sifu.  It should be noted that throughout his life he spoke on many other subjects.  He offered his own assessment of the true nature of Jeet Kun Do (JKD) and William Cheung’s innovations, styling his own instruction “classic Wing Chun” at least partially in response to these other developments within the community.  Readers of Black Belt magazine will even remember Hawkins Cheung as an early and passionate advocate of a more combative approach to Taijiquan.

There is much that one could say about the life and career of such a remarkable martial artist.  Cheung possessed a restless spirit always seeking progress. Throughout his life he sought to not just master Wing Chun, but to understand what made it work.  This same curiosity would lead him to explore several other styles.  Hawkins Cheung was a student of Goju-Ryu Karate in which he achieved a fourth Dan.  He also developed a strong interest in Wu Taijiquan, which he approached with his signature direct practicality.  After coming to the United States he set up a succession of successful schools in Los Angeles and introduced countless students (including individuals like Phillip Romero and Phil Morris) to Ip Man’s art.

By any standard Hawkins Cheung’s career was remarkable. He was one of just a handful of individuals who really shaped Wing Chun’s spread to North America.  This brings us to a second, deeper, level of regret. Despite his many contributions, Cheung’s life and career are not well understood, except perhaps by his closest students. Bruce Lee was a luminary figure who ignited a Kung Fu fever.  We would be remiss if we did not acknowledge his role in creating a global environment where Wing Chun might succeed.  But we must also acknowledge his absolute talent for sucking the oxygen out of a room, or dominating any conversation that he might appear in.

Sadly, Hawkins Cheung is typically discussed only as Bruce’s sidekick.  When reporters or researchers approached him, it was almost always to ask about his friend Bruce.  This seemed to bother Cheung on a few levels, the most important of which was that Bruce had been a very close friend, and losing him was painful. Yet in death Lee’s myth grew to such proportions that it was impossible for anyone to escape his shadow.

All of this is in equal parts ironic and regrettable when thinking about Hawkins Cheung.  It is ironic as he conveyed to current students so much historical knowledge about Hong Kong in the 1950s, yet accounts of his own career in the 1970s-1990s are extremely rare.  It is regrettable as his life growing up in Hong Kong, and immigration to the West, mirrored Wing Chun’s global journey. Indeed, the two are inextricably linked. Serious historians and social scientists would better understand the process by which the Chinese martial arts succeeded as a global phenomenon if we could write his story. Even if Bruce Lee was critical to igniting the fire, it lasted because individuals like Hawkins Cheung were capable of feeding it.

Perhaps the first step toward better understanding is to simply appreciate what we already have. In the remainder of this post I will explore a basic outline of Hawkins Cheung’s life and contributions to the Asian martial arts.  It is my hope that this will not only provide some insight into him, but also the ways in which history itself is memorialized and created.  Indeed, traditional Chinese lineage structures have been making sense of the present by linking certain sorts of facts about the past for a long time.  These highly stylized patterns of remembrance tell us something about the environment and sorts of challenges that our community faces.  Yet other types of memory, ones that explicitly focus on the decades of quiet effort that are so often forgotten in our rush to construct martial immortality, are necessary to build a fuller understanding of how we got here and where we might be going.  Hawkins Cheung’s life and career may be particularly important in this respect.

 

 

The Fighter

Only a limited amount of information about Hawkins Cheung’s early life seems to have made it into English language discussions.  He was born sometime around 1940 and grew up in Kowloon.  After 1949 the area became increasingly crowded with refugees and homeless individuals fleeing across the border with Communist controlled Guangdong.  Even as a child Cheung was acutely aware of the bleak nature of life in Hong Kong emphasizing (as a repeated talking point in his later interviews) the problems with overcrowding, unemployment, homelessness and organized crime. These structural limitations would weigh heavily on the group of sometimes angry young men who gathered to train with Ip Man.

Still, Hawkins Cheung was more fortunate than most. He grew up in a relatively wealthy family.  His father owned a luxurious car and could employ a professional driver to ferry his young son to school.  It was also natural that Hawkins Cheung would be drawn to the martial arts given his small size, propensity for aggression and boundless energy.  It was at the Francis Xavier Intermediate School that he first met and befriended the similarly predisposed Bruce Lee, who had recently been expelled (with good cause) from the much more prestigious LaSalle school. I will refer anyone who is interested in the gory details of that episode to Matthew Polly’s recent biography.

Being relatively affluent had other benefits as well. Hawkins Cheung reports that he was either 13 or 14 when he began to study Wing Chun kung fu with Ip Man, sometime around 1954.  Interestingly, he was at first unaware when his friend Bruce also began to study with the same teacher, probably because the two were attending class at different times.  Phil Morris suggests that later the two purposefully went to separate classes at least in part because the intensely competitive young men did not want to reveal their level of skill to a potential rival.

Some of our best accounts of life within Ip Man’s school come from a series of interviews that Hawkins Cheung gave to Inside Kung-Fu magazine in 1991.  He speaks frankly about the competitive nature of outside challenge fights, but also the internal Chi Sao culture that developed among some of the younger Wing Chun students. Everyone wanted to be “top dog”, and Hawkins Cheung was at a real disadvantage due to his small size.  I think that many Wing Chun students today will be able to relate to the frustrations that he expresses in these interviews.

Interestingly Ip Man, who didn’t typically handle the day to day training of the younger students, intervened at a point when he may have been considering quitting, guided him through an exploration of the basic defensive structures in the art’s unarmed forms.  This helped Hawkins Cheung to build an understanding of Wing Chun that worked for him.  Readers should remember that even by Hong Kong standards Ip Man was a pretty short individual of slight build.  It would have been hard to think of a better mentor when addressing these problems.

Hawkins Cheung continued to study with Ip Man until 1959.  One of the most important, yet often overlooked, causes of Wing Chun’s global success was the chronic under-development of Hong Kong’s educational sector in the 1950s and 1960s.  There simply were not enough slots at Hong Kong University for all of the good students coming out the city’s school system.  Nor were there enough high paying jobs to satisfy the children of the city’s middle class.  The fact that Hong Kong was a British territory meant it was entirely possible for the children of wealthy families to do something about this.

Ip Ching has noted that many of his father’s better off young students traveled to North America, Australia or Europe to pursue both University degrees and better job prospects.  Bruce Lee was far from alone in this exodus.  Indeed, this pattern of global dispersal ensured that when Wing Chun became famous there were already a handful of well qualified individuals spread throughout the globe who could promote the art.  Meanwhile, others had already acquired the language skills and life experience necessary to immigrate to the West and set up schools of their own.

Hawkins Cheung decided to further his educational prospects in Australia, but it seems that many of his experiences there were far from positive. As he noted in subsequent interviews, WWII had resulted in a high degree of anti-Japanese/anti-Asian prejudice, and it was not uncommon for Chinese students to be subject to racist attacks and other forms of violence. There were also tensions within the local Asian expatriate community, and Hawkins Cheung reports frequent fights with Thai kickboxers.

After finishing college Cheung returned to Hong Kong in 1962.  He continued to study with Ip Man (now as a more senior student) until the time of his death in 1972.  Adding things up, it appears that Hawkins Cheung enjoyed about 15 years of study as Ip Man’s student, both before and after college.  While many individuals trained with Ip Man, due to retention problems and Ip Man’s many moves, relatively few students could claim such long periods of continuous training.

While in Hong Kong, Hawkins Cheung explored other arts, including Goju-Ryu Karate. Despite what one might assume, it was not uncommon for Chinese individuals to study Japanese arts (in either Hong Kong or Australia) during this period.  What was much less common was for someone to maintain close ties to both communities while gaining a high degree of expertise.  These styles were, after all, peer competitors.

Cheung relates that he was fascinated by the speed and power that Goju-Ryu practitioners could project through years of practice. He desperately wanted to learn how to counter this using Wing Chun structures, as well as to improve his own abilities.  Yet he was also attracted to Karate as it offered a place where legal, socially approved, sparring could happen without the fear of police or gang involvement.  He considered this essential to his training.

In fact, it seems that Hawkins Cheung was almost as skilled a diplomat as he was fighter. That might be a surprise given his often direct, kinetic and demanding teaching ethos.  But even within the complex and fractured political landscape that emerged following Ip Man’s death, it is hard to think of any of his students who immigrated to the West who were more generally liked. As anyone who has read his articles or interviews knows, Hawkins Cheung was not shy about making his opinions known. Whether the subject was the true nature of JKD or the Taijiquan’s combative potential, Cheung was always willing to wade into the fray.  Yet he remained almost universally respected. As any political scientist can tell you, diplomacy is also a martial art.

Hawkins Cheung immigrated to the United States in the late 1970s, a few years after Ip Man’s death.  I have not been able to figure out much about his first few critical years.  Yet by 1980 he was running a school with Dan Inosanto in Culver City Los Angeles.  In a two-part article published in Wing Chun Illustrated in September 2017, Phillip Romero relates how he first discovered Cheung and began to train at his school.

Romero’s reminisces are valuable and readers are encouraged to head on over and examine them in full.  They suggest an outline of the California period of Cheung’s career.  But beyond that, they provide the same sorts of highly textured description of a school life that Hawkins Cheung himself had given us when describing his own training with Ip Man.  Indeed, these rich descriptions are every bit as valuable to students of martial arts studies as any biographical details that may be related.

Romero paints a picture (largely supported by accounts from other students) of Hawkins Cheung as a demanding teacher.  If as Sifu he embodied the “fatherly” archetype, his was the exacting and goal driven Chinese patriarch.

On a more technical level, as a still relatively young man he was concerned with how Wing Chun structures could be made to work in a variety of combative environments.  The sorts of students who thrived in his early schools were those willing to risk bruises, split lips and other injuries in full contact drills and sparring that didn’t employ the sorts of safety equipment that would now be standard issue.  Rather than MMA gloves (which did not yet exist) Romero relates how he found Cheung and his students using lightly padded gardening gloves where the fingers had been cut off.

Romero followed Cheung through multiple school locations.  After closing his martial arts supply business (something that I would like to learn more about) to focus exclusively on teaching Hawkins Cheung opened a larger, two story school on Venice Blvd., “not far from the Culver mall.”  This must have been a good location as Romero goes on to describe nightly classes with over 90 students split into three separate sections. This was followed up by another class for the senior students who helped to teach large sections of beginners. Still, not everyone was interested in the intensity and “reality” of the training on offer.

I must confess, however, that many of the reminisces of Cheung’s training in this period remind me of the sorts of contact levels and expectations that I experienced when I began my own Wing Chun apprenticeship some years later.  Prior to the eruption of the UFC, MMA and BJJ there was more combative interest (and talent) being invested into the traditional striking arts.  Yet every art has a certain reputation, or set of social expectations, which allows it to survive in a competitive marketplace.  These seem to have changed dramatically for many systems following the rise of MMA.

I have often wondered whether the perceived combat deficiency of Wing Chun really reflects fundamental shortcomings in the system, or if a more sociological explanation is needed. By in large, the sorts of students who are willing to sacrifice the most and train the hardest are now siphoned directly into an entirely different set of social discourses around the modern combat sports.  My friend Sixt Wetzler attempted to provide a theoretical basis for this sort of observation in an article that he wrote on applying systems theory to explain change within the martial arts communities. Still, a fuller and more granular exploration of what was going on in within Hawkins Cheung’s large Wing Chun community in the 1980s and 1990s might prove an interesting test case for these sorts of models.

In 1989 Hawkins Cheung closed the Ventura Blvd. school, and opened his final location a few miles away. This third school ran until 2014. It seems that with age his interests and teaching methods evolved (though his intensity did not necessarily mellow).  And Romero points out that the blossoming of BJJ and MMA had a definite impact on the type of training that happened.

Still, Cheung’s contributions to the global martial arts community were not confined to his teaching activities.  His name appeared in martial arts magazines, both in articles and letters, throughout the 1980s.  Nor did he confine his contributions to the discussion of Wing Chun. He even emerged a popular advocate of a more combative understanding of Taijiquan, another art that he was deeply invested in.

In the early 1990s Hawkins Cheung gave what can only be considered a seminal (four-part) interview to Inside Kung Fu magazine. It must be considered mandatory reading by anyone interested in the development of Wing Chun during the post-WWII period. And it is hard to understate how much these articles shaped subsequent discussion of Bruce Lee’s legacy.  Just check the footnotes of any of his biographical treatment published after 1992 to see what I mean.

Cheung was also something of an early adopter in the area of film and video recording.  Steven Moody has noted that he collected 16 mm film of many of the most important figures in Wing Chun’s modern development.  He is also reputed to have had films of various roof top challenge matches recorded earlier in Hong Kong.  In an effort (only partially successful) to distribute some of this information, Hawkins Cheung established a Youtube Channel in 2013. There readers can find a manageable selection of his demonstration, discussions and interviews.  He even posted some of his engagement with Wu and Chen style Taijiquan. In fact, you probably owe it to yourself to check out this vintage interview.

 

 

Memory

Memory is not an automatic thing, at either the individuals or the social level.  We are all constantly curating our past as we choose what to remember and what we will allow to slip away.  This process of remembering and forgetting is actually key to the construction of intergenerational Chinese martial arts communities.  The social identity of a practitioner is defined, at least to some extent, by the lineage that they identify with.

Yet lineage is not history.  It tells us a strong story about who we are now, but the ahistorical nature of the legend building process suggests that this way of viewing the martial arts is much less helpful if our goal is to understand how exactly we got here, or where we might be going.

The irony of Master Cheung’s life is that through his interviews he did much to preserve our history.  Yet his story, like that of so many instructors in his generation, remains to be fully explored.  Even in death he is still remembered as “Bruce Lee’s friend,” which is true, and something that he was proud of.  Yet if this is the only fact that we remember, we are in danger of forgetting so much more about how Wing Chun evolved as it moved onto the global stage.

It is my fervent hope that in the coming months we will see more detailed remembrances and discussions of a critical career, one that should not be forgotten.  But we should also take this moment to ask what other work must be done.  Oral history projects are an important means by which non-specialists can contribute to the preservation of martial arts communities.  It is something of a truism to say that the martial arts are always evolving, but we are in a particularly critical moment when so much of the post-WWII history of the TCMA will either be preserved or lost.  All of this will only become our history if we first choose to remember it.

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this post you might also want to read: Remembering Chu Shong Tin and the Relationship between Theory and Observation in Chinese Martial Studies

oOo

Research Note: A Visit with the Jingwu Association in 1928

 

At the moment I am working on a guest editorial project examining Afro-Caribbean and New World martial arts.  It will pose a number of interesting questions and I hope to discuss some of these practices in greater depth.  Unfortunately, the issues’ deadlines have turned out to be a bit tighter that we first thought, and it is monopolizing quite a bit of my time for the next few days.

Nevertheless, I recently came across a fascinating newspaper article that I wanted to share with the readers of Kung Fu Tea. My discussion of this piece must be brief, but the article’s contents are interesting enough that it can stand on its own.

Still, just a bit of framing may be helpful. Almost every national-level discussion of the Jingwu Association within the historical literature on the Chinese martial arts ends rather abruptly with the bankruptcy of its founding members in 1924.  Authors like Morris and Kennedy note, quite correctly, that the organization ceased to play a central role in the promotion of the Chinese martial arts at that point.  The Jingwu brand is often assumed to have been broken and, in any case, the stage has already been set for the emergence of the Guoshu movement with the completion of the KMT’s Northern Campaign.

Again, this is all correct so far as it goes. Yet it also seems that most readers go on to assume that Jingwu simply vanished after this point and ceased to be any sort of force within the Chinese martial arts.  That was most certainly not the case.  To say that a group no longer (and almost single handedly) set the agenda for the reform of the Chinese martial arts is not the same as saying it ceased to play any role in that struggle.

While Jingwu’s founders and national structure took a punishing financial hit in 1924, many of its individual branches continued normal operations, and even made headlines with important events, right up until the eve of WWII.  In The Creation of Wing Chun: A Social History of the Southern Chinese Martial Arts, Jon Nielson and I provide an extensive discussion of the later history of the Jingwu Association in both Foshan and Guangzhou, two cities where it continued to have a major impact on the martial landscape. Andrew Morris has also noted that the group continued to exhibit quite a bit of social clout in various South East Asian communities up until the present time.

The following article, first published in The China Press in August of 1928, reminds us that Jingwu also continued to function as an important force in Shanghai. Indeed, a month before the Central Guoshu Institute’s now famous first national martial arts exhibition, the Jingwu Association was commemorating an anniversary of its own in front of an assembled crowd of over a thousand guests.

While press accounts of Jingwu demonstrations are not uncommon, this one is interesting as it reviews the sorts of political, social and cultural presentations that framed the martial arts exhibits in great detail. It seems that even in 1928 the Association was presenting a face designed to appeal to an educated and upwardly mobile middle class.  This particular account is also interesting in that it lays out so many names for future investigation.

Beyond that, I was struck by the unnamed reporter’s frequent use of the term “sword playing” in an apparent description of taolu. Many press accounts from the period refer to these solo-forms simply as “sword dancing” or “gymnastics.”  However, the English language vocabulary used to describe Chinese martial arts practice was far from standardized in the 1920s, and tends to shift from one newspaper to the next.  We can now add “sword playing” to the ever-growing list of key words to be used when conducting electronic searches.

Still, for all of the pretense at educational theory and middle-class respectability, it is important to note that The China Press continued report all of this as an athletic event, rather than as cultural or political gathering.  In fact, it was placed directly besides an item of boxing news titled “British Lightweight, Jack Berg, Defeated by ‘Fargo Express.’”  Even after its ostensible fall, the Jingwu Association was still being invoked in the local press as a uniquely Chinese answer to Western athletics and physical culture.

 

Physical Exhibition Held Last Night by Chinese Athletes

Speeches, Chinese gymnastics consisting of wrestling, boxing, fencing, sword playing, dances and Chinese music were featured [in] the 33rd physical exhibition of the Chin Woo Athletic Association which was successfully held last night at the Central Hall, North Szechuen, with more than a thousand guests in attendance.  The Association was established 19 years ago, and is one of the oldest athletic associations in existence, whose main object is to promote the art of Chinese boxing.  The exhibition is arranged to be held monthly and last nights was the most brilliant carried out.

The program began with the reading of the monthly report of the Association by Dr. Jackson Cheng, the Chairman of the Association, and was followed with a short speech by Mr. C. N. Shen, who is famous in educational circles.  His speech mainly deals with the question of how to promote education in China, the service of the Association to the public in [the] athletic world being greatly praised and urged.  After a concert which was appreciated by all, gymnastic exercises consisting of boxing, fencing, [and] sword playing were exhibited.

Mr. Woo Chien-chuan, of boxing fame displayed a classic in boxing to the delight of the audience.  A number of guests, who are experts in the art, were also invited to play Mr. K. C. Chee’s sword-playing, Mr. V. M. Chen’s boxing, and Mr. Yeh’s sword-playing, [and] a duel were most favorably appreciated by the audience.

Boxing and sword-playing were also exhibited by girl members whose efficiency in the art surpasses all present.

The program was then concluded with a musical program.

“Physical Exhibition Held Last Night by Chinese Athletes.” The China Press. Aug. 26, 1928. p. A2

Give Me Those Old Time Kung Fu Villains

 

 

Introduction

Antagonists seem to be the critical ingredient that make the martial arts possible. Yet to understand why that is the case we need to start by unpacking a few things.  An immense range of activities fall within the category that we term “martial arts,” so much so that simply defining the term is much more challenging than one might expect.  Still, all of these activities are essentially social pursuits.  The martial arts are really more about the pedagogy and the discussion of violence than its actual performance.  Indeed, the quality of some isolated hermit’s technique cannot make them a martial artist.  At a bare minimum they must be willing to pass that skill along, or perform it for others, before the label really applies.

This raises a few obvious questions.  Why should one desire to be a in a community that practices or passes on these skills?  What is the ultimate utility or meaning of these techniques?  Or to put the question rather crassly, are the varied benefit of practicing a given martial art worth the time, cost and effort necessary to do so?

It should surprise no one that all sorts of martial arts have formulated their own answers to these types of questions.  I sometimes think that indoctrinating students into their unique world view is just as important as the actual transmission of techniques.  Indeed, it is an open question in my mind as to whether the martial arts, as a social and cultural construction, can even exist without some sort of world defining narrative.

Psychologists have noted that telling stories is one of the most basic ways in which humans understand, and attempt to interact, with our world.  In fact, narrative seems to be key to how we as a species understand the process of causation in the world around us.  Sadly, there is less evidence that the physical world that we seek to understand is structured in this way.  Hence our theories and stories about the world, while certainly useful, always reveal some aspect of reality with one hand, as they hide certain things with the other.  To tell stories is human, but it may not be the best way to understand quantum mechanics.

On the other hand, paying close attention to the stories that people tell may be absolutely critical when our goal is understanding the functions of the voluntary communities that individuals create.  This is critical as not all groups, organizations or styles are attempting to do the same thing.  Not all fighting styles claim to do the same work, or provide the same social and personal benefits.

Students of martial arts studies thus require a number of discursive keys capable of opening the door to a more serious and sustained comparative study of these functions.  Sadly, the comparative method is not commonly seen within martial arts studies.  Yet such studies might help us to understand why, at a given point in time, individuals are drawn to one martial art versus another. Or why do some types of martial practice thrive in a given social or economic setting, yet struggle in another?

 

Weapons confiscated in Chinatown, New York City, 1922. This haul shows a remarkable mixture of modern and traditional weapons. Source: NYPD Public Records.

 

Nothing is More Useful than a Bad Guy

This sort of positivist research generally begins when researchers sit down and begin to measure things. Typically, one will start with the martial artists themselves.  You might collect data on their age, race or gender.  Other socio-economic indicators can be gleaned through formal surveys or participant observation.  One might conduct interviews, sample social media posts or examine their physical performance in public demonstrations or fights.  Anything that can be observed can be quantified and fed into a statistical model of human behavior.

That is all great.  Indeed, my earlier research relied quite heavily on data crunching and “large-N” analysis (granted, at the time I was more interested in the behavior of political parties and nation states than martial artists).  Yet some of the things that are most useful for adding nuance to comparative analysis might, at first, be a little less obvious. For instance, when you walk into the average martial arts school, it is highly unlikely that anyone will self-identify as the resident villain. Yet such a figure is critical to understanding how the community functions.

This can often be seen in way that individuals discuss their styles. A good Kung Fu story is mostly a normatively loaded narrative about conflict which tends to identify one set of actors with positive social traits (or traits that are understood to be “good” in this situation) and another set of individuals or forces with negative ones.  John Christopher Hamm has done a wonderful job of exploring the way in which the literary imaginings of these conflicts have evolved in the sorts of Wuxia fiction produced in Southern China. Late 19thcentury novels valorized the sorts of feuding between neighboring clans and villages that characterized much of Southern Chinese life.  In contrast, Jin Yong’s much later novels reflected the larger scale struggle to control the “central plains” in an era when many of his readers had (like his protagonists) fled into exile.

Both folklore (the burning of the Shaolin temple by the Manchus) and film (Bruce Lee’s perpetual struggle against the markers of racial injustice and imperialism), offer a wide range of antagonists for our consideration.  Indeed, film studies scholars are correct in noting that the sorts of villains that films present, from the fear of brainwashing in the Cold War to the distrust of social and political institutions in the wake of Vietnam, can tell us a good deal about a society’s values and preoccupations.

Comparing the sorts of villains that appear in two different genera of martial arts films (say, the current run of John Wick stories, and Hong Kong Wuxia films of the 1960s) would doubtless be an informative, rewarding and enjoyable exercise.  A scaled down version of this might even make a great blog post.  Yet ultimately these films are meant to appeal to a general audience.  While they are certainly watched by some martial artists, they are primarily reflective of larger social trends.

Again, what would be most interesting would be the comparative case study.  How do the smaller scale narratives produced within the martial arts community, for its own exclusive consumption, reflect or contradict these larger sets of social anxieties?  Again, this is where we in martial arts studies might leverage our villains to collect some valuable insights about the varieties of social work performed by different types of martial arts communities.  After all, I am not sure that there is any reason to expect that the stories told in an MMA gym and the children’s Taekwondo gym across the street would share the same sorts of oppositional figures.

 

The Shaolin Temple, home to countless theories on the origins of the Chinese martial arts. Source: Wikimedia.

Construction the Loyal Opposition

In purely methodological terms, how might we identify the sources of rhetorical opposition within a given community? This process will vary depending on a variety of factors, but let us begin by considering something fairly familiar, the Wing Chun community.  What becomes immediately apparent is that there are actually many different sorts of overlapping villains whose image and memory students are forced to struggle with. So let’s start at the beginning.

Every webpage, how-to book and introductory seminar seems to involve some variant of the Wing Chun creation myth which typically revolves around two key antagonists.  First, one must come to terms with the Manchu government which burned the Shaolin Temple, representing a sort of structural, almost metaphysical, evil.  Then there is the question of the marketplace bully whom Yim Wing Chun must fight to preserve her marriage prospects.

Interpreting these stories in an early 20thcentury Cantonese context is not difficult.  The first narrative evokes nationalist themes with the Manchu’s being a stand-in for various other foreign oppressors who are seen as being responsible for the chaos of the Republic period (in practice this was mostly the Japanese and the British).  Meanwhile, the story of the marketplace bully is both a cautionary tale about misdirected internal opposition within the realm of Rivers and Lakes, and an object lesson in the strategic principals that will allow the Wing Chun student to overcome China’s international and structural opponents.

Deciding what it all means when these stories are translated into a Western cultural context, one in which we are not worried about Japanese imperialism in Shanghai and the Manchus have no particular cultural significance, is a much more difficult task. Given the frequency with which these stories are repeated, they must mean something to the global population of Wing Chun students. They certainly seem to serve as shared signifiers of the cultural authenticity of one’s projects.  Yet a variety of listeners have projected feminist interpretations onto Yim Wing Chun’s narrative, or concocted political readings of the conflict with the Qing, which would probably have greatly surprised Kung Fu students in the Pearl River Delta during the 1920s.  One does not need to be a critical theorist to acknowledge that most texts can be interpreted in a varity of different ways.

While these stories are perhaps the most widely told within the Wing Chun community, they are not the only ones that are potentially revealing for the martial arts studies researcher.  We might, for instance, decide to conduct personal interviews.  I will never forget a conversation that I once had with two of my Wing Chun students, both old school karate guys who were a good deal older than me.  Somehow the discussion turned towards the ways that casual social violence (things like barfights) had changed and largely disappeared from America’s public spaces after the 1980s.

Both of these individuals were from a large rustbelt city, and both began to reminisce fondly on the frequent bar fights that they used to get into.  They immediately told a number of stories about how martial arts students from “their neighborhood” would get into fights with African American martial artists from a couple of other local schools.  As the stories progressed it became clear that these were actually narratives about attempting to control a changing neighborhood recast as stereotypical martial arts tales.  It became increasingly clear that when these gentlemen training in either kung fu or karate they were remembering a very specific set of opponents from their youth. Accepting this fact is critical to understanding the very specific social functions that these fighting systems served in a number of American cities during the 1970s and 1980s.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about these conversations was how upfront the two gentlemen were about the sorts of violence that they had perpetrated and also feared.  It was an eye-opening experience for someone who was still relatively new to the field of martial arts studies.  But in thinking about the incident it occurred to me that there are many less obvious ways in which these sorts of tales are told.

The classic “how to” books and articles which sustained the martial arts publishing industry for decades are interesting in that they contained all sorts of visual reenactments of imagined violence.  Often the two fighters are randomly selected students dressed in the same school uniforms. But in a number of other cases greater budgets or imaginations allowed for a more direct visual construction of the imagined villain.  Turn of the century photographs depicting the gentlemanly art of Bartitisu displayed a clear sense of class anxiety by so often portraying attackers as stereotypic muggers, mashers and tramps.  On the other hand, German literature on Wing Chun in the 1970s and 1980s often took as its “loyal opposition” students of the other Asian martial arts (e.g., Karate or Taekwondo).  The anxiety it responded to was not random street crime (or growing income inequality). Rather, the concern was to demonstrate that in a battle between skilled opponents (both of whom would show up wearing the proper uniforms), your arsenal of skills of would prevail.

When thinking of the social conditions that generated these two cases, it is probably significant that the first style persistently pictured its attackers as socio-economic “others,” while the second system constructed a discursive system around a more recreational model of self-defense training.  This was a world in which the fundamentally similar martial artists who inhabited a rather crowded marketplace might fight for honor.  Or barring that, certain sorts of magazine illustrations might help to reinforce one’s belief that their time and money had been invested in the proper sort of martial arts school.

 

Ip Man relaxing in his apartment. Source: Ip Ching’s collection.

 

Conclusion: The Embodied Fear

All of this is helpful, and it makes more of an art’s underlying narrative visible to the researcher. Indeed, the subconscious inflections and biases which emerge out of magazines, postcards, webpages and social media videos may be more helpful to researchers precisely because they are not interviews. The fact that we are so often unaware of how we subtly frame these more technical stories means that the resulting process may more accurately reflect the sort of work that we are actually expecting a given martial art to do.

Still, there is another level of storytelling that occurs within every martial arts system.  It lays even deeper than the popular media, creation myths, or ephemera. It is expressed within the realm of embodied technique itself.

While the human body is always the same, there seems to be no end to the variety of fighting systems that surround us.  This variety is the result of many factors.  At the most basic level not all martial arts have the same goal.  Some Chinese arts are systems of individuals self-defense (Wing Chun) while others may have been developed with an eye toward coordinated small unit military combat (the pole work of General Yu Dayou’s Sword Classic comes to mind.) Sometimes the goal of a public performance is victory in a highly competitive combat sport, while in other cases a practitioner might seek to entertain guests at a wedding or festival.

Yet even these large scale distinctions cannot explain all of the variations in the styles and approaches to combat that we see.  Systems with similar goals might still have different sets of assumptions about how a fight is likely to proceed, and what sorts of skill are most important.  Indeed, I am often struck by the fact that on an abstract level so many southern Chinese martial arts share a wide range of techniques.  Yet they differ markedly in terms of their pedagogy and strategic assumptions.  Taken as a whole, this embodied knowledge also reveals a narrative with its own set of villain(s) which may be quite useful to the practitioner.

Consider the question of grappling within Wing Chun. It is untrue that traditional Wing Chun has no grabs, locks and throws.  Indeed, I was even trained in a minimal amount of ground work.  But rather than attempting to wrestle and submit my opponent almost all of this was directed towards disentangling myself and being able to get back on my feet as quickly as possible.  Indeed, much of the short range fighting in Wing Chun (including the afore mentioned locks and throws) seem focused on maintaining one’s ability to continue to strike and move once someone has attempted to grab you.

All of this reflects a single tactical preoccupation within the Wing Chun system.  It is extremely concerned with the likely presence of multiple attackers. In these sorts of situations, one could very easily win a battle on the ground, yet lose the war.  In thinking about the history of the art, it is not difficult to understand where this preoccupation came from.  As a plain-clothes detective in Foshan, Ip Man was likely involved in the arrest of both violent criminal and suspected communists.  During the final years of the Chinese civil war, this later group of individuals were typically tortured and killed at the end of the interrogation process.  The Communist Party did not let these murders go unanswered. Its agents also put together teams that snatched various enemies of the party and treated them in broadly similar ways.  In short, when Ip Man was informed that he had been added to a Communist hitlist in 1949 he probably wouldn’t have had any reason to doubt the assertion.  This was a reality that all of Guangdong’s police and intelligence officers were quite familiar with.

Why then is Ip Man’s Wing Chun so focused on the possibility of multiple attacker scenarios?  I would humbly suggest that the answer might be that the thing which he (and an entire generation of other practitioners) most feared was being abducted by a hit squad comprised of three to four highly trained individuals driving a Packard.  Avoiding being grabbed and thrown into said Packard was the key to not being tortured to death in the back room of a safehouse somewhere in Guangzhou.

Granted, this is a very specific, historically bounded, fear.  It is interesting to speculate as to whether Leung Jan’s Wing Chun had the same tactical emphasis on multiple attackers.  If it did, perhaps he might have been more interested in the sorts of small unit fighting that period militia members were expected to train for, rather than the world of law enforcement and politically motivated killings that had colonized Ip Man’s imagination by 1949.

It is interesting to me how many of these half-forgotten tactical doctrines remain embodied in a wide range of martial arts.  But as we think about the layers of antagonists that each system presents, in its media representations, in its oral folklore, and even in its bodily habits, we may become more conscious of these villains.  Better understanding this imagined opposition can help us to not only understand what these systems were in the past, but to make more informed choices about how we interact with them, and what they might still become in the future.

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this reflection on villainy you might also want to read: Martial Values, Social Transformation and the Tu Village Dragon Dance

oOo

The Research Expedition: What is the Value of Short Duration Study?

A vintage french postcard showing military uniforms from various Asian countries. Source: Author’s personal collection.

 

A New Hoplology

Over the last few weeks I have been thinking quite a bit about what hoplology was and what it might yet become. What were the advances and shortcoming of this field’s previous incarnations, both prior to the First World War and during the Donn F. Draeger era?  My own involvement with the quickly growing field of martial arts studies, now institutionalized in the form of grants, conferences, peer reviewed journals and dedicated book series, has made me curious about such things.  Why exactly did the field of anthropology seem to lose interest in the subject (at least as a cohesive literature) following WWI? Why did Draeger’s renewed efforts, while inspiring much popular enthusiasm, never find a place in academia? And what precisely can students of martial arts studies learn from all of this regarding the birth and growth of scholarly fields?

While problematic in a number of ways, there was also much about the older hoplological tradition that was very interesting, and even admirable.  While martial arts studies has made great strides in establishing the notion that these practices can, and indeed must, be examined through a variety of theoretical lenses, I am sometimes surprised that we have shown little interest in engaging the more material and technical aspects of hand combat.  Only a handful of articles in our journal have sought to record and provide a detailed analysis of actual techniques.  Embodiment is a theoretical concept that is often discussed in the abstract, but only rarely is the hard data presented to the reader.

Likewise, there has been almost no discussion of the material culture that is so central to most individual’s lived experience of the martial arts?  Where did the now ubiquitous “Wing Chun Dummy” actually come from, and how has it managed to spread itself across so many other styles in the last decade?  Would recent advances in the fields of history and critical theory allow us to say anything new about the development of the ubiquitous white training uniforms and colored belts that the Japanese introduced to the global martial arts?  What exactly happens to a non-Japanese system when these foreign artifacts begin to colonize the imagination of a new generation of students? Why are there no studies of the various phases of the standardization and evolution of the Chinese jian (or even the dadao) in late imperial and Republican China?

While it is easy to criticize aspects of the older hoplological tradition, or perhaps salvage ethnography as a whole, no one could never claim that these fields neglected the connection between material culture and the lived social experience.  This is critical as the material goods that we consume, the weapons, media, uniforms and ephemera, often testify to a set of values and social functions that support martial arts practice on a deep level that most of us perceive only dimly.

Nor did the older generation of hoplologists shy away from the topic of social violence.  Over the last two years both Paul Bowman and I have called, in different settings, for a more sustained investigation of the relationship between martial practice and the experience of violence in the modern world.  In general, I think it is a good thing that so many martial arts studies researchers are also students of hand combat.  Yet this can also work against us.  There is a natural tendency to “write what you know.”  Gratefully, most (though not all) scholars are able to work and train in environments where the actual threat of physical violence is rare.  But that has not historically been true for the world’s martial artists.  And even when we are aware of these things, there is a tendency to play down or ignore some of the darker aspects of modern martial arts practice.

While discussing this topic with Prof. Swen Koerner, he noted that all sorts of sociologists are interested in projects related to how the practice of the martial arts contribute to good social outcomes. Yet we have tended to ignore their correlations with violent or anti-social behavior.  When we disregard this, we may save ourselves a degree of embarrassment (or maybe cognitive dissonance), but we also miss an opportunity to discover the many ways that hand combat practices intersect with the realm of social violence.  Yet this was precisely the territory that individuals like Burton and Malinowski explored in the late 19thand early 20thcenturies.

Is there room for a “new hopology?”  And what purpose would such a literature serve?  What would its relationship be to the traditional disciplines, and to the growing field of martial arts studies?

Such questions are impossible to answer in a single blog post.  Indeed, they cannot be answered by a single researcher.  If we have learned anything in martial arts studies it is that the creation of a field is by definition an experiment in applied sociology. One certainly hopes that a new hoplology would address some of the intellectual and social shortcomings of its predecessors.  Beyond that, for reasons that I will touch on below, I think it would have to be grounded in rigorous theoretical and methodological discussions.  Finally, by both tradition and necessity, the new hoplology would probably be an empirically oriented wing of martial arts studies, dedicated to the collection and comparative study of interpersonal combative behavior and culture.  Beyond that it is hard to say much at all.

This is not to imply that the earlier hoplologists never advanced theoretical or conceptual models.  They certainly did.  Yet I think their greatest achievement was in building databases of information that essentially captured a single cultural snapshot in time that would forever be available to future scholars looking to test whatever theories they had.  A new hoplology could certainly make important contributions to the overall growth of martial arts studies by carefully gathering comparative data focused on the material and technical aspects of martial culture, as well as the many unique local experiences of social violence.

 

Moro weapons. Vintage Postcard.

 

The Research Expedition

Nevertheless, it is one thing to state that the new hoplology might be an empirically driven pursuit, it is quite another to narrow down the range of investigations that we are likely to see.  Historical research in the archives, the collection of large-N datasets using on-line surveys, and the writing of “thick descriptions” of culture via participant observation are all equally “empirical” paths. Indeed, it is quite possible to imagine each of these methods being employed in hoplology projects. Draeger encouraged a myriad of students to spend years intensively training with specific ryu in postwar Japan. Likewise, Malinowski and his students sought to collect textual archives and museums full of artifacts to enlighten future generations of researchers.  Like martial arts studies, hoplology, in actual practice, seems to have always been deeply interdisciplinary (and in its more amateur forms, pre-disciplinary).

All of these methods of data collection are seen in a number of other fields and their possibilities and limitations are relatively well understood. It sometimes seems that I spent my entire graduate school career doing nothing other than debating the relative merits of historical vs. large-N research, and how best to leverage various empirical approaches when dealing with different types of theoretical frameworks.

Yet there is one specific research method which seems to have become hoplology’s hallmark, and it is much less well understood.  What can be accomplished by short term research expeditions carried out by teams of individuals who, while possibly highly trained, tend to be non-specialists in the geographic or cultural areas that they seek to explore?

Perhaps that last sentence undersells the challenges that such expeditions face.  Let us rephrase the question more succinctly.  What do we really expect a bunch of academics who have just stepped off an airplane to be able to learn about a new set of martial arts in a short period of time (anywhere from a single week to perhaps a couple of months)?  Can such an exercise ever constitute “serious research,” or will it always amount to an intellectualized version of the sorts of martial arts themed package vacations that have become so popular in the last few years?

I suspect that many readers will have no problem coming up with reasons why the utility of short duration expeditions will be limited. At the most obvious level one is unlikely to master a foreign language, culture, or even a nuanced system of etiquette, in only a few weeks.  This will impact both your ability to interact with local martial artists and one’s capacity to gather data.  In the short term it, may even be difficult to determine what data one should be collecting.  The sorts of puzzles that arise when thinking about a martial practice that one has practiced for two weeks are qualitatively different from instances where one has studied the material for a few years.  And while it is possible to establish friendships in only a few weeks’ time, the quality of those relationships is simply not the same as what comes with daily interaction over a period of years.

There are many good reasons why anthropologists traditionally looked down on this sort of research. A senior professor of the discipline here at Cornell recently confessed to me his disappointment that so few graduate students have the funding or inclination to spend a few continuous years in the field as part of their professional training.  In his view this massive investment of time not only led to richer, more insightful, descriptive data.  It was the transformative initiation that produced his field’s professional ethos. It was the process by which anthropology students were turned into anthropologists.  It was a matter of great concern for him that so many graduate students split their fieldwork into three-month chunks, or only studied groups that never require them to go into “the real field” at all.

While the development of hoplology may have had important early connections with anthropology, it goes without saying that not all students of martial arts studies are attempting to write classical ethnographies. So once again, what might be achievable in short duration research expeditions given the obvious limitations of the exercise?

 

A display of spears and matchlocks at himaji castle, Japan. These weapons dominated the 17th century Japanese battlefield. Photo Courtesy of the Himeji Castle Visitors Webpage.

 

Three Possibilities

I think that there are at least three possibilities that deserve consideration, and their utility to any individual researcher may be a function of both their disciplinary background and theoretical orientation.  First, while it is true that most martial arts studies scholars do not do ethnography, anthropologists do seem to be overrepresented in the rather small group of scholars who continue to be interested in hoplology.  Wondering how they might make the best use of their time I decided to interview my own father on the subject, who is also a cultural anthropologist and a strong supporter of “old school” ethnography.

After listening to me lay out the basic structure of a hypothetical hoplological expedition he noted that, no matter what someone like him says in a “Classics of Ethnography” lecture, in truth many anthropologists do a great deal of work-related short-term travel.  He further noted that every long-term stint of field research goes through progressive phases, each of which are important and yield their own sort of data and level of understanding. Learning to get the most out of these first few weeks or months can make a big difference to the success of a long-term project.  There was no reason why, in his view, such expeditions could not be treated as “pilot projects” dedicated to making initial contacts and gaining a degree of understanding of the local martial culture that would make the next visit to the area both possible and profitable.

Given the realities of the current funding process, most research is now produced through multiple short expeditions, and so figuring out how to set up the next phase of research is always vital.  Additionally, he noted that such travel was actually important for more senior researchers as, by building their network of professional contacts, they could identify research opportunities for the next generation of graduate students.  While intensive participant observation is not really possible in short duration studies, they might still be valuable as a pilot projects to identify future ethnographic opportunities.

Of course there are other approaches to understanding short duration research.  The empirical data generated by ethnography is descriptive and qualitative in nature.  Yet the social sciences (fields like sociology, political science or economics) tend to focus on the creation, and testing, of causal theories.  To vastly oversimplify, rather than treating culture or a society as a literary text to be interpreted, they seek to understand which constellations of material, structural, strategic and discursive variables lead to specific, observable, outcomes. Even as the humanities and (American) anthropology have moved away from such approaches, the emphasis on investigating causal explanations through positivist research methods have grown within much of the social sciences.

Nor is this necessarily a bad thing if we are contemplating the development of a “new hoplology.” A positivist orientation would allow researchers to develop and test a wide range of theories regarding the evolution of basic martial structures through either focused comparative case studies or the creation of larger datasets. Sadly, we have yet to see much in the way of sustained comparative research within martial arts studies. And topics that have been central to hoplology, such as the evolution of weapons, or the causes of certain types of social violence, may be particularly amenable to these research strategies.

None of this means that social scientists can, or should, indulge in a sort of naïve empiricism.  I think that this is a common misconception about how this sort of research works.  A short duration research expedition is a great opportunity to gather rich troves of data. Both training and performance can be photographed and filmed.  Masters, students and supporting community members can interviewed.  One can investigate the economic and political institutions that uphold such practices.  Journals can be distributed to allow local practitioners to record their media consumption habits. There is actually much that one can do in a few weeks. But given the temporal constraints of short duration research, any researcher is going to be forced to prioritize these things. That means that they must have a clear idea of exactly what sorts of hypotheses they might want to test, and what sort of data will be of the most use to future researchers.  In other words, extensive causal theories must be developed and submitted to initial “plausibility probes” before anyone ever sets foot on an airplane. And those causal stories are likely to be the most meaningful when they build off of, and take into account, the basic concept that arise from the various philosophical schools of critical theory.

Whereas an anthropological approach might see short duration research as the very first step of a much longer process, within a social scientific framework, heading out into the field to gather data usually comes in the middle (or even toward the end) of a project.  It is this logic of discovery that forces social scientists to begin by thinking about theory.  That doesn’t mean one might not discover that a new causal story (or theoretical framework) will be necessary when you sit to analyze your hard-won data.  As all of us who work in this area can attest, that happens with some frequency.  But even that sort of “negative finding” is an incredibly important aspect of the research process and should not be confused with naïve empiricism.

The great advantage of such a data intensive, social-scientific, approach is that it allows for the construction of comparative case studies in which more general hypotheses about martial arts development, or social violence, can be compared across a variety of groups or even regions of the world.  In the best-case analysis this might lead to the development of “covering laws.”  I suspect that such a discovery would have thrilled old school hoplologists.

The obvious disadvantage to such a research strategy, however, is a subtle shift in focus.  The data that we collect in our expedition is now geared to reveal more about our theories of human behavior in the abstract than the specific practices of a given community at a single point in time.  One assumes that the “thick description” of participant observation would always address those realities better.  Yet that is a process that inevitably takes time.  Once again, martial arts studies researchers will need to think carefully about their basic goals long before they ever design a research project and set foot in the field.

Finally, it is worth considering who will be responsible for making these decisions.  Much of the preceding discussion has assumed that it is a single researcher headed into the field as that is what reflects my personal experience.  Yet one of the things that I find most interesting about the classic hoplological expedition is that they were undertaken by entire teams of researchers. That implies a much greater scope for potential specialization.

While everyone on a research team might bring their own martial arts background, members could be selected to represent a variety of disciplinary and methodological perspectives.  A research trip to Southern Taiwan might include a researcher looking at social marginality, another who specialized in traditional medicine, an ethnomusicologist and a media studies specialist. Each of these individuals might be tasked with collecting data and testing a set of distinct hypotheses which all spoke to a larger set of theoretical propositions regarding the Southern Chinse martial arts in relation to any number of factors (globalization, social transformation, fictive kinship, the echoes of imperialism, etc…).

It is not hard to imagine the ways in which such a team might generate important synergies within their collective investigation.  And if each of these researchers were to spend only a month in the field, they might generate a body of cultural insight that a single researcher working in isolation might take years to match.

As always there are dangers.  One would need to guard against the emergence of “group think” or the fostering of potentially blinding ethnocentric attitudes among a small group of relatively homogenous researchers.  Still, teams could also be constructed to bring a greater variety of perspectives and life experience than any one researcher could ever hope to possess.

 

An assortment of “Long Leaf” Nepalese Military Kukri from the author’s personal collection.

Conclusion

It is difficult to say what a new hoplology might be, and whether such a thing could make unique contributions to the development of martial arts studies.  It would certainly be nice to have a group of scholars dedicated to the careful construction of empirically rich case studies and datasets which might, in turn, inspire the creation of new research questions.  And I personally would welcome a more sustained (and theoretically informed) investigation of the weapons and material culture that so many modern martial artists seem to fetishize. I suspect that the field as a whole could only benefit from these efforts.

This is not to say that there were not problematic elements within the older hoplological tradition, or issues that would have to be addressed before any attempt to resurrect the label within a modern academic framework could move forward.  Yet I do not believe that the classic hoplological expedition is one of these problems.  We would certainly want to avoid anything that smacks of amateurism or naïve empiricism. Yet from my perspective as a social scientist, such exercises might finally facilitate the emergence of a body of detailed, theoretically informed, comparative studies.  That is a very exciting possibility for researchers who are interested in explaining causality or unraveling the functions of social structures.  And even those individuals who are more focused on ethnographic approaches might find such short duration, highly focused, research opportunities useful as pilot projects opening the way for more sustained participant observation in the future.

There are likely good reasons why prior attempts to create something like martial arts studies failed to find a foothold in the academy.  And if a new hoplology were to succeed, I suspect that it would be quite different from the projects that Draeger or Burton imagined.  Yet short duration research expeditions constructed around the research interests of teams of specialists almost certainly have much to contribute to the field.

 

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If you enjoyed this essay you might also want to read: Martial Arts Studies: Answering the “So What?” Question

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Chinese Martial Arts in the News: January 20th 2019: Jingwu, Chinese Armor and Liberating the Nunchuck

A Chinese historical reenactor in traditionally inspired armor. Source: Sixthtone.

 

Introduction

Its been over a month since our last news update, which means that there is no better time to get caught up on recent events! For new readers, this is a semi-regular feature here at Kung Fu Tea in which we review media stories that mention or affect the traditional fighting arts.  In addition to discussing important events, this column also considers how the Asian hand combat systems are portrayed in the mainstream media.

While we try to summarize the major stories over the last month, there is always a chance that we may have missed something.  If you are aware of an important news event relating to the TCMA, drop a link in the comments section below.  If you know of a developing story that should be covered in the future feel free to send me an email.

Its been way too long since our last update so let’s get to the news!

 

 

News From All Over

True story.  While hanging out with with the guys at my university martial arts club in Japan, it was a constant point of fascination that while I was allowed to own all manner of firearms (most which were strictly prohibited in Japan), several traditional Japanese martial arts weapons, including nunchucks, were illegal where I lived. Being a resident of New York State (and not a student of traditional karate), I have never actually owned a set of nunchucks.  But maybe its finally time for that to change!

A federal court recently struck down the state’s ban on these weapons as unconstitutional and declared them to be covered under the Second Amendment.  Various news outlets have reported on how this ruling came about, but I liked the coverage over at Bloody Elbow.

Last month Judge Pamela K. Chen of the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of New York ruled that New Yorkers have a constitutional right to own nunchucks. The ruling comes after James A. Maloney, a lawyer and nunchucks enthusiast, launched a complaint over the state’s 40-year ban on the traditional martial arts weapon in 2003.

According to The New York Times New York decided to criminalize nunchucks in 1974 while the “United States was in the middle of a kung fu fever” inspired by martial arts movies.

At some point I am probably going to write a blog post on all of this.  Obviously the weapon came to be strongly associated with Bruce Lee, and I feel that its subsequent ban reveals a darker side to the “Kung Fu Fever” of the 1970s.  More specifically, news reports of the era were quick to point out that African-American and Hispanic youth joined various martial arts groups in huge numbers. Given the racial, social and political subtexts of Bruce Lee’s films, the sudden popularity of hand combat systems among young men of color made many authority figures uneasy.  Everyone from school teachers to politicians had something to say about his phenomenon.  The ban on these weapons makes more sense (historically speaking) when viewed through a racial and generational lens.  But I need to read and think a little more about this before jumping into a more detailed discussion of that episode.  In the mean time, I should probably just decide what type of nunchuck needs to be added to my collection.  I have certainly seen some interesting flails in old Chinese photographs….

 

 

One place that you are unlikely to ever run across a set of nunchucks is in a Wing Chun class. But that is ok as, according to this review in the South China Morning Post, Wing Chun offers many benefits to the perpetually stressed, always on the go, young professional.  Basically, “mindfulness practice” is key to not getting hit in the face.

That brings us to one of the most interesting aspects of this article.  The author finds it necessary to provide a “trigger warning” and lets readers know that there is a lot of two-person drilling in Wing Chun, so if you decide to go to a class you need to be ok having a certain amount of physical contact with strangers.  If this bothers you, then “you should bring a friend.”

I began to wonder whether the author might actually have been more comfortable in a class on the Taijiquan solo forms as I read this article. Indeed, I felt as though she was attempting to push Wing Chun in that direction as I contemplated her first impressions of the practice.  This is a valuable reminder of the gap that often exists between hardcore martial arts enthusiasts and the new students who we are always trying to attract to our schools. While so many of us are looking for greater levels of “realism” (e.g., bodily conflict) in our training and sparring, its well worth remembering that these sorts of aspirations don’t fit within a large segment of the population’s mental map of the martial arts.  They are dealing with a very different set of “discomfort thresholds.”

 

Personally, I would be much more concerned if my martial arts class involved “incidental contact” with any sort bovine, rather than a human training partner.  Chinese bullfighting, which leapt into the popular press during the autumn of 2018, is still managing to keep itself in the news.  This recent story in NPR is of interest as it includes some discussion of how bullfighters (wrestlers?) are trained and the competitive structure of their shows  All of this explained by the performers themselves with invocations of “the explosive power of hard qi gong” and meditations on Chinese masculinity.

 

 

A theoretical lens for approaching the recent bullfighting phenomenon might be found in the scholarly literature on public spectacles.  I suspect that it could also provide a certain amount of analytical purchase on our next story as well.  The Fox Sports desk has been running a number of martial arts features recently.  Their most recent offering is modestly titled the “5 most unbelievable Chinese martial arts techniques of all time.

The article itself is basically background commentary on video clips featuring five distinct styles.  They portray a range of both traditional and more modern practices.  I don’t think a long-time student of the Chinese martial arts is going to learn anything new here, but the clips might be useful as an illustration of the sorts of material that the general public finds interesting.

 

 

One of the more important articles in this news roundup, titled “Honoring ancestors in old boxing tradition,” was published at Shine.com (the Shanghai Times).  It profiles Huo Jinghong, the great-great granddaughter of Huo Yuanjia (1868-1910) and the “inheritor” of his lianshouquan style. What makes it so interesting is that the further you read, the more complicated all of this becomes. Like all Chinese, university level, martial arts coaches, Huo’s background (and first love) is actually the performative disciplines of modern Wushu.  Her family never taught her Huo Tuanjia’s lianshouquan (or any other traditional art) as they had stopped practicing it during the Cultural Revolution (and possibly before).  In actual fact, she seems to be researching and reconstructing the style as much as anything else.

Yet the popular discourse around her efforts insists on emphasizing her genetic relatedness to Huo Yuanjia and concepts such as transmission and inheritance.  Much of her efforts in this area also appears to be rooted in (or at least inspired by) a couple of big government backed projects to promote Huo Yuanjia’s memory (and the historic Jingwu movement more broadly) for political and economic purposes.  In reading this article I felt like I had come across a short case study in how these sorts of public diplomacy and economic development projects take root in, and eventually restructure, the identities and practices of various individuals.

Her enduring connection with celebrated ancestor Huo Yuanjia restarted in late 2014, when she was asked to shoot a video to display lianshouquan. It was actually the first time that she learned the routine of the ancient boxing art.

“Lianshouquan had long been forgotten in the family,” she said. “My father learned a bit when he was a child but was stopped by my grandfather Huo Yating.”

Huo Yating’s decision was aimed at protecting the family during the “cultural revolution” (1966-76). His father, Huo Dongge (1895-1956), the second son of Huo Yuanjia and the major inheritor of the boxing art form, moved to Southeast Asia in the 1920s and never came back. Such an “overseas connection” could have spelled disaster for the entire family during the “cultural revolution,” so the family kept a low profile away from martial arts.

 

To really understand Huo Jinghong’s profile, it should probably be read in the context of another article (also published in Shine.com) titled “Martial arts fans mark Chin Woo master’s 150th birthday in Shanghai.”  While much more general in nature, it suggests something about the scope of the efforts to promote the city (and tourism) through this aspect of its martial history.

A thousand martial arts lovers practiced traditional Chin Woo boxing in Hongkou District on Saturday to commemorate the 150th birthday of Huo Yuanjia who founded the Chin Woo Athletic Association in Hongkou in 1909.

The martial artists from both home and abroad practiced the mizong boxing at the North Bund waterfront along the Huangpu River. The martial art style is what has made Huo famous ever since the early 1900s.

The event aims to promote China’s traditional martial arts culture and highlight the spirits of the Chin Woo association such as patriotism, self-cultivation, justice and readiness to help, according to the Shanghai Chin Woo Athletic Federation, the organizer of the event.

Our next article is also worth taking some time with.  It is not an exploration of the traditional martial arts so much as an extended investigation into the emergence of armored fighting (both in the context of competitive events and historical reenactment), in China.  This reporting brings up all sorts of questions about identity and the current direction(s) of Chinese nationalism.  Its worth noting that the larger social movement that these practices seem to be most closely discursively related to is not the martial arts per se, but rather the hanfu traditional clothing movement.  Again, it may be time to brush up on the scholarly literature on public spectacle in identity construction and community formation.

Incidentally, the Chinese government is not always enthusiastic about people putting on home made armor and bashing each other with swords and maces in public places.  That is just hard to imagine…

Here is the money quote:

It’s entertaining — even comedic at times — but for Gao, bringing China’s martial past to life through real armor, combat, and historical re-enactment is a serious matter. “Only if you understand this can you understand how you came to be — how your own nation, your own people, made it to the present day,” he tells Sixth Tone in December from a Shanghai café, a stone’s throw from the video game studio where he works as an animator.

 

As always, the South China Morning Post has had some things to say about the martial arts.  Perhaps the most articulate piece was this editorial defending Xu Xiaodong’s right to make a living through fighting.  Apparently he has been criticized in Chinese social media for not just harming the reputation of traditional culture, but for being paid by fight organizers (who have started to offer huge purses to anyone who might be able to defeat Xu).  Indeed, everyone involved with these bouts appears to be paid. But the recent rhetoric echoes the traditional criticism of those who would “sell their kung fu.”  All of that seems pretty unfair to the SCMP’s columnist who notes that professional MMA fighters have a right to make a living.  Still, he does implicitly criticize Xu for only accepting challenges from individuals who are obviously inferior opponents.

But that might be about to change.  One of Xu’s upcoming challengers (an appropriately fake Shaolin monk), is an experienced fighter in the ring and might provide a more interesting contest while allowing Xu to continue his quest to debunk the “frauds” of the traditional Chinese martial arts community.

 

The next article is for those who prefer their “reality fighting” to happen on the street rather than in a ring.  It is an account of two Chinese martial artists who get the better of three Russian thieves attempting to snatch a bag from a Chinese tourist.  The moral of this story appears to be that the “Chinese tourist” you are threatening to pull a weapon on might just be an off-duty law enforcement officer.

 

 

How did Bruce Lee die?  Newsweek seems a little late to this party, but enquiring minds never seem to tire of this debate. The magazine’s webpage published an article summarizing the major theories that have arisen over the years, including some of the more medically sound ideas that have been proposed recently.  This might be a fun read for Bruce Lee fans.  Those looking for general biographical treatment can check out this recent article over at the GB Times.

 

 

Did you see Ip Man’s ten year challenge photos? I thought that was pretty clever. Apparently Donnie Yen would like to remind us that Ip Man 4 is coming soon. Incidentally, I am sure someone could turn this into a great meme.  Any takers?

 

 

 

I thought “Henan’s Snow Covered Shaolin Temple” was a better than average photo-essay. It is more focused on architecture than Kung Fu (though there is a bit of that).  Yet some of these images are striking.  Worth checking out if you are a Shaolin fan and can’t get out to train because of the snow!

 

 

If you live anywhere in New York State, not being able to get out to train might be the least of your problems.  Given the amount of snow that just fell, we will all be snowed in for a while.  Luckily TimeOut magazine has the entertainment covered.  It has just released its list of the “21 Best Kung Fu Movies Made in Hong Kong.” Given that none of us are going anywhere, we may as well grab the popcorn and boot up the streaming service of our choice.  While all quality picks, I thought this list played it pretty safe. So do you see anything that is missing?

 

 

Martial Arts Studies

The spring semester is just starting and the Martial Arts Studies community is lurching back to life.  As always, there is a lot to get caught up on.  The latest issue of MAS, packed with original research articles and reviews, has just be released.  Head on over to the Journal’s webpage to find out what is inside.

The table of contents is as follows.  (Hey, look at that.  A crack team of scholars wrote an article about the development of Wing Chun in Germany!):

 

 

 

Be sure to also check out the Martial Arts Studies YouTube channel.  The presentations from this years Bruce Lee conference have just been posted, and it looks like there is some interesting stuff.  Given that we recently discussed the classic article “Liberate Yourself from Classical Karate,” it might be fun to start with Lyn Jehu’s paper “Bruce Lee or Budo? Is the Mess Really that Classical?”

 

 

On the journal front, readers will be excited to learn that there is also a new issue of Revista de Artes Marciales Asiáticas (RAMA) with multiple English language articles.  You can see its table of contents here.

 

 

Last but not least, Greg Downey has just uploaded his paper (with Monica Dalidowicz and Paul Mason) “Apprenticeship as method: Embodied learning in ethnographic practice.”  This is a nice methods piece that will be helpful for many researchers in the field of Martial Arts Studies.  You can read it at Academia.edu.

 

 

Chinese tea set. Source: Wikimedia.

 

Kung Fu Tea on Facebook

A lot has happened on the Kung Fu Tea Facebook group over the last month.  We discussed a set of antique butterfly swords, reviewed important martial arts manuals and learned that bodily techniques from the traditional Japanese martial arts could help us in daily life. Joining the Facebook group is also a great way of keeping up with everything that is happening here at Kung Fu Tea.

If its been a while since your last visit, head on over and see what you have been missing!

 

 

 

Issue 7 of Martial Arts Studies Now Available: Wing Chun, Collectivism and Fighting Gender Stereotypes

 

We are happy to announce that the seventh issue of Martial Arts Studies is now freely available. Martial Arts Studies is the premier scholarly source for interdisciplinary work on a wide variety of topics surrounding the practice, sociology, history and media representation of the modern combat sports and traditional martial arts. Published twice yearly, we are dedicated to presenting the very best research written and reviewed by leaders in the field.

This issue begins with an editorial followed by five articles and three short reviews. Judkins and Bowman start by discussing what an “open issue,” such as this, suggests about the current state of Martial Arts Studies.  They note that the current issue stretches our discussion of the Asian martial arts in geographic terms, while also asking us to consider the many complex interactions between physical practice and identity formation.

In the first article, “The Creation of Wing Tsun – A German Case Study,” Swen Koerner, Mario S. Staller and Benjamin N. Judkins take a detailed look at the global spread of Wing Chun.  Ip Man’s immigration to Hong Kong in 1949, followed by Bruce Lee’s sudden fame as a martial arts superstar after 1971, ensured that wing chun kung fu, a previously obscure hand combat style from Guangdong Province, would become one of the most globally popular Chinese martial arts. Yet this success has not been evenly distributed. Despite its cultural and geographic distance from Hong Kong, Germany now boasts a number of wing chun practitioners that is second only to China. Their article draws on the prior work of Judkins and Nielson [2015], as well as on systems theory and local historical sources, to understand why this is the case.

Next, Kristin Behr and Peter Kuhn examine the “Key Factors in Career Development and Transitions in German Elite Combat Sport Athletes.” The purpose of their study was, through in-depth interviews, to systematically identify key factors that facilitate and constrain career development and career transitions. Their findings relate to difficulties and critical events in athletes’ attitudes toward their career development. They conclude that an athletic career is a highly complex, multi-layered, and individual process. Significant differences were found between statements of student-athletes and “sports soldiers” within the German system. Participation at senior competitions at an early age is required for a smooth transition to a world-class level.

The third research article, “Fighting Gender Stereotypes: Women’s Participation in the Martial Arts, Physical Feminism and Social Change“, by Maya Maor, explores the unique social conditions that make full-contact martial arts a fertile ground for gender subversive appropriation in terms of: 1. close and reciprocal bodily contact between men and women, 2. the need to learn new regimes of embodiment, and 3. the paradoxical effects of male dominance in the field. Maor describe two specific mechanisms through which subversive appropriation takes place: formation of queer identities and male embodied nurturance. While the first mechanism relies on women’s appropriation of performances of masculinity, the second relies on men’s appropriation of performances of femininity.

Veronika Partikova continues the ongoing discussion of martial arts and identity formation in her piece “Psychological Collectivism in Traditional Martial Arts.” Her paper offers a new perspective for viewing traditional martial arts in terms of psychology. It argues that ‘traditional’ martial arts offer physical skills, moral codes, rituals, roles, and hierarchical relationships which, taken together, creates the perfect environment for psychological collectivism. Psychological collectivism focuses on individuals and their abilities to accept the norms of an in-group, understand hierarchy, and feel interdependence or the common faith of the group. First, this paper introduces the theory of psychological collectivism and connects it with traditional martial arts known as wushu or kung fu. It argues that traditional Asian martial arts create situations strong enough to activate collectivistic attributes of self and suggests that practitioners’ mind-sets can be different within and outside of the training environment. This kind of collectivistic interaction may provide one explanation for how non-Asian practitioners function in such training environments and how the traditional Asian martial arts can work as psychosocial therapies.

The final research paper is contributed by Tim Trausch. “Martial Arts and Media Culture in the Information Era: Glocalization, Heterotopia, Hyperculture” is derived from the Editor’s Introduction to the collection Chinese Martial Arts and Media Culture: Global Perspectives  [Rowman & Littlefield International, 2018]. This volume explores how narratives and aesthetics of the martial arts genre(s) are shaped and imbued with meaning in changing social, cultural, and media arrangements. Drawing from a range of recent media texts, this introductory chapter discusses the global circulation of signs and images of (Chinese) martial arts and their engagement with alleged national, cultural, textual, generic, and media borders. It argues that these texts reflect and (re)produce three paradigms of martial arts and media culture in the information age: glocalization, heterotopia, and hyperculture. What connects these three notions is that, rather than erase difference or establish it as something substantial and dividing, they engage with difference and otherness in inclusive and transformative ways.

The issue closes with three reviews.  First, Andreas Niehaus, Leo Istas and Martin Meyer report on the “8th Conference of the German Society of Sport Science’s Committee for Martial Arts Studies.”  It took as its organizing theme “Experiencing, Training and Thinking the Body in Martial Arts and Martial Sports.” Next Spencer Bennington reflects on Udo Moening’s volume, “Taekwondo: From a Martial Art to a Martial Sport.” Finally, Qays Stetkevych provides a candid review and close reading of the recently released “Martial Arts Studies Reader” [Rowman & Littlefield. 2018].

As always, this issue is freely available on-line. Or visit our webpage to learn more about this publication and to find our call for papers.

 

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Do you still need to catch up with Issue 6 of Martial Arts Studies?  If so click here.

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Meditations on the Blade, Ultra-Modernity and the Fine Art of Self-Promotion

 

 

The Unexpected Giant

Some of the essays at Kung Fu Tea are the result of several days of careful research and thinking.  This is not going to be one of those pieces.

I started out with a great topic.  It was my goal to explore the stochastic progress of duanbing, a type of competitive short-weapon fencing, conducted with specific safety gear, which has been on the verge of “really taking off” within the TCMA community ever since the late 1920s.  As I began to assemble some articles and descriptions of the first phase of duanbing practice in the 1930s, one name just kept coming up. In fact, I ran across so many references to this individual that I just had to find out more about him.

Sadly, he has nothing to do with Chinese fencing. But Col. Voldemar Katchorovsky did make quite an impression on anyone who met him. His colorful career suggests something about the general attitudes which shaped the development of Guoshu, as well as the types of adventurous individuals, peripatetic either by choice or circumstance, who shaped the global transmission of all martial arts (both Eastern and Western) during the 19thand 20thcentury. Lastly, his career is also a valuable reminder that duanbing did not emerge in a vacuum.  It was developed at a time when both Japanese Kendo and Western foil fencing were making inroads into Chinese schools and popular culture. As I (and many others) have already noted, the development of any “local” and “traditional” practice must arise in discourse with notions such as “international” and “modern.”  Katchorovsky’s writings provide us with a very specific example of how these concepts entered discussions of martial and combative pursuits in China.

Who was V. A. Katchorovsky?  It is difficult to say with absolute certainty. As with many martial artists, we simply do not have a complete life story.  Yet a review of period newspapers reveals two competing narratives.  The first was something that Katchorovsky’s inherited.  Despite his enormous height (over seven feet), and unusual profession (fencing instructor), most people saw him primarily as a refugee, a former Russian military officer displaced by the Bolshevik Revolution.  Indeed, quite a few Russians refugees would eventually end up in China, and they seem to feature prominently as “threatening outsiders” in many kung fu legends.  Perhaps we should not be surprised that displaced individuals (many with a military backgrounds) would end up coming into contact with China’s own martial artists.

Still, Katchorovsky’s path to China was far from direct. The first mention that I can find of him comes in the form of a short article in a local paper in New South Wales, Australia. It seems that in 1924 Katchorovsky was passing through on his way to Tahiti.  Yet he was viewed as such a tragic figure that an article on his visit was necessary.

Giant Refugee

Body Guard of Murdered Czar

Melbourne, Saturday. –Penniless and physically worn, after years of intense anxiety, Artillery Colonel (W)oldemar Katchorovsky, once of the first Artillery Brigade attached to the late Czar’s Imperial Russian Life Guards, arrived in Melbourne on Wednesday.  He stands over seven feet one inch high.

Having been hounded out of his country by the Bolsheviks, Katchorovsky is on his way to Tahiti, where he will join another refugee, Colonel Basil Nik[]tine.  His fortune having been confiscated, he was obliged by necessity to travel steerage on the French liner Ville de Strassbourg.

Katchorovsky was one of the late Czar’s bodyguards.  As a refugee in Malta with the Dowager Empress Maria Deodorovna, he learned the authentic story of the death of the Royal family.

While the Royalist Generals were organizing volunteer corps in the Caucasus and Crimea, the Czat and his family were taken prisoners to Ekaterinburg, Western Siberia.  According to the Dowager Empress, his majesty was killed by the prison guard against military orders.  The rest of the family, after suffering terrible humiliation, were likewise done to death.

Katchorovsky carries with him treasured photos of himself taken with members of the royal family when holidaying in Lividia Palace in the Crimea.

Northern Star(Linsmore, NSW) 16 June 1924. Page 4.

Readers should note that this piece contains no discussion to fencing, leading me to wonder whether Katchorovsky had begun to teach. Tahiti in the 1920s, while probably lovely, would not have been my first choice of location to open a new fencing salon.  Beyond that, this article offers readers very few biographical details.  We do not learn how old Katchorovsky was, or whether he ever had a family.  Nor do we learn where he was coming from.

Like many refugees in our own era, Katchorovsky seems to have been subjected to a process of biographical flattening.  His entire life is reduced to only those elements most interesting to the paper’s readers.  One suspects that in the 1920s any number of White Russian refugees might have passed through the same area and inspired almost identical articles.  In this discursive movement Katchorovsky, as an individual, was hollowed out and reduced to a symbol of the era’s increasingly well-developed fear of Bolshevism.

 

Col. V. A. Katchorovsky as he appeared in the pages of The China Press in 1933.

 

Maitre d’Armes

Whatever business Katchorovsky had in Tahiti, he seems not to have stayed long.  In 1927 his name resurfaces in another newspaper in New South Wales.  Then in 1930 we catch a glimpse of him in Honolulu. While most of the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa was consumed with an upcoming football game against BYU, the school newspaper reported that an exhibition fencing tournament had been planned between the students of Katchorovsky and those of Cedric Wodehouse (a local instructor who had been trained in the UK).  Once the preliminary matches were finished, the student body was promised an exhibition match between the two instructors.  This was billed as a “real match between experts.”  Without digging into more detailed local historical sources, it is difficult to say how long Katchorovsky stayed in Honolulu.

In any case, he did not put down roots.  Two years later a student newspaper for the University of British Columbia (Vancouver) ran a brief notice stating that Katchorovsky had taken up residence in the area and was looking to establish a class for local university students. Any student wishing to take him up on the offer needed to hurry.  By the spring of 1933 Katchorovsky would be seeking to establish a somewhat larger presence in Shanghai.

This is the period of Katchorovsky’s career that generated the most interesting paper trail.  Between February 19-22 of 1933, he wrote a series of three, highly detailed, articles for The China Press.  Each of these sought to explain and promote Western style fencing as a desirable type of personal exercise and competitive sport. [Readers should note that, confusingly, both the second and third articles in this series are labeled as “number two,” so it is necessary to actually check the dates of publication].  Collectively these discussions seem to announce the arrival of a more prosperous stage of Katchorovsky’s teaching career.

Readers may recall The China Press was one of Shanghai’s leading English language “treaty port” papers. While the editor of this paper was Chinese, and a virtual agent of the KMT government, the China Press prided itself on its connections to the American tradition of journalism and liberal editorial slant. The paper served three audiences. Obviously, it spoke to the needs of the expatriate English speakers in Shanghai.  Yet unlike other foreign language papers, it reported extensively on Chinese political and social events.  Indeed, its ostensible foreign ownership helped the paper to skirt certain censorship regulations, and it thus also appealed to educated, English reading, Chinese citizens. Lastly, the KMT tolerated papers such as this as they hoped that they would bring news of what was happening in China (unfiltered by the always hostile Japanese newswire services) to citizens in the West.

Given this complex readership, it is significant that The China Press was unrelentingly enthusiastic about all aspects of the martial arts.  It seems to have published more stories on Chinese boxing (or “national boxing”) than any other treaty port paper.  But it also reported on judo, kendo, boxing and fencing. One suspects that someone in the editorial office took a keen interest in martial pursuits.

Still, the degree of coverage that Katchorovsky’s thoughts on fencing received seems exceptional, even by the standards of The China PressAs I mentioned in our prior discussion of Ma Liang’s New Wushu movement, certain outlets also offered their services to government officials or important individuals who sought (for a price) to promote a project that was generally in line with a paper’s editorial policy. For a few years the China Press even seems to have run an ad hoc English language public diplomacy program for the KMT.  I suspect that Katchorovsky may have entered into a similar promotional arrangement with the paper.

His first three articles, in April of 1933, were immediately followed up by another piece at the beginning of March.  This article (written by a reporter) sought to both promote fencing in general and Katchorovsky’s classes more specifically.  It noted that he had recently been hired by St. John’s University as a fencing instructor for the students. The paper proclaimed (probably incorrectly) that these were “the first Chinese [boys] to take up this typically European sport.”  It was also noted that his experience in America demonstrated that fencing was really a sport for everyone, regardless of age or gender.  A local girl’s school was also considering adding fencing classes.

Again, it is difficult to know exactly when Katchorovsky arrived in Shanghai and began teaching. But at the end of March (22nd) the China Press ran another story, probably independent of any formal advertising campaign, noting that due to the increased popularity of the sport an exhibition had been scheduled at the International Branch of the YWCA. Exactly one week later (March 30th) another unsolicited article was run reporting on the result of this social and athletic gathering.  Such stories are relatively common in the pages of The China Press.  Still, it seems that this event made a positive impression on the reporter.  Like Hawaii, the student tournament was followed by two exhibition matches in which the various coaches and organizers demonstrated other weapons and superior techniques for the crowd.

Skimming various accounts of tournaments and exhibitions, it seems that much of the fencing in Shanghai was led by, or included, Russian refugees.  Indeed, one wonders whether this was what drew Katchorovsky to the city in the first place.  His own match was against Dr. Schoenfeld.  Col. Minuchin, who coached many of the participants, is reported to have graduated from the Officers’ Fencing and Gymnasium School in Petrograd just before the outbreak of WWI in 1914.  He had been living in Shanghai for approximately five years.

All of this publicity resulted in two photographs of Col. Katchorovsky in his role as fencing instructor.  The first, published on Feb. 27th, shows a sophisticated looking individual, hair parted in the middle, sporting round glasses and a neat mustache.  He holds his trademark foil and fencing mask on his lap as he seems to look beyond the camera with a pensive gaze.  If the first image is serene, the second is slightly unsettling.  It was taken on the day of the YWCA tournament/exhibition.  Several female students sit in the front with their instructors standing behind them.  Shown at his full height, Katchorovsky towers over the others.  At first one guesses that the other coaches must have been sitting as well, but of course they are not.

The China Press revisited fencing again on October 27th with another article by Katchorovsky.  This piece quoted liberally from the Art of Fencing by Senac and Fencing by Brek in an effort to argue for the athletic, personal and somatic value of the practice.  Not to be outdone, the North China Herald also ran an article by Katchorovsky on November 7th. Unfortunately, this rehashed many of his prior points without adding much new to the discussion.  Still, in a remarkably short period of time Katchorovsky had written or been discussed in at least eight articles and received two photographic features.

That is a remarkable amount of press coverage for anyone in this period, let alone someone from the martial arts community. But his efforts paid off.  The introduction to the October China Press article noted that Katchorovsky was currently serving as Master of Arms at both the Shanghai American School and St. John’s University, while running his own fencing academy at 73 Nanking Road.

 

 

Modernity’s Knight Errant

Given the volume of material that Katchorovsky produced, it is important to ask how he (and other instructors) sought to promote fencing in the 1920s and 1930’s.  More specifically, how are the values that they sought to promote similar to, or different from, the sorts of discussions that other martial arts (especially Guoshu and Judo) were generating?  One might suppose that given his military background, Katchorovsky would be something of a traditionalist when it came to the sword. He came of age in an era when there was still an expectation that officers might have to fight with their swords. And all of that seems to fit with the more tragic and orientalist ways in which the press sought to frame his life narrative.

Yet Katchorovsky was no traditionalist.  One suspects that he would have had little tolerance for the sort of essentialist cultural rhetoric that followed Kendo. His understanding for the need for modernization and reform within the martial arts would have fit well within the more progressive currents of China’s own Guoshu movement. Note, for instance, the following excerpts from his discussion on the topic of traditionalism vs. modernity in his third article for The China Press, titled “Modern Fencing Reaches High Sate of Perfection.”

 

 

…There are so many people who have never given up the old-fashioned idea that fencing is an ancient art, graceful and beautiful to behold upon the stage. Many never think of fencing as competitive sport, which it really is—the fastest and most brilliant of all man to man sports in existence.

 Fencing progresses like everything else.  A fencing bout of two hundred years ago and a present day match have very little resemblance. Fencing today is very fast, very competitive, and a study of it gives one a deep and interesting experience in the thoughts of modern science and philosophy, such as timing, motion, space, reflex-action and counteraction, and shows one the vast differences between perception and intuition.

Suits Modern Youth

Fencing today is very modern, very athletic, very fast, sparkling and vivid, almost scientific. It should suit the modern youth to perfection.  He can still keep his identity, his individuality, be a little swaggering and devil-may care, and possibly fence better for it….

Helps Eliminate Time

I know of no other sport today which has become as ultra-modern as fencing.  In my opinion fencing develops such keenness and precision that it becomes far more mental than physical. A fencer finds that along with modern inventions, modern science and its fourth dimension, this sport goes a long way to eliminate more of the encumbering element of matter we call time.

To think is to set, i.e., when you think “thrust” your arm is already extended: when you think “lunge” your right foot hits the floor with pantherish agility.

It is especially true that in a hardfought bout between equals you are never conscious of your body.  It has ceased to exist; that is, it is no longer the tool of the mind, but becomes the mind itself.

Ultra-Modern Thrill

You lose all consciousness of self and exist as the mental qualities of speed, precision, accuracy, distance, balance, judgement or seem to exist as life and action itself.  For your time is not, and each moment of action flashes from the future into the past without the realization of its passing.

After a twenty-minute bout, whether you have won or lost, you feel that if you have not spent a second in eternity, you have least lived more vividly, more intensely during these minutes than is ordinarily lived in a week.

Thus fencing, once necessary as a means of bodily protection between the exponents of the art, has today become a new mental and physical thrill for the ultra-modern.

1933. A. Katchorovsky. “Modern Fencing Reaches High State of Perfection.” The China Press. Feb. 22 1933. Page 8.

This is one of the more interesting first-person accounts of any martial practice which I have encountered during the 1920s or 1930s. While most of Katchorovsky’s articles tend to emphasize the fully-body muscular development that fencing provides, or its utility for students seeking to lose weight, it seems clear that he was motivated by a quest for altered states of consciousness.  This article provides a very detailed account of what it is like to experience a “flow state” in weapons work.  Yet rather than seeing this as a universal psychological phenomenon, something that might occur in any number of activities, he supposed both that it is unique to fencing and its modern reforms.  Katchorovsky even points to the achievement of personal goals and individually attained altered states of consciousness as core qualities of his “ultra-modern” martial art.  Reading these passages I am left to wonder how many practitioners of combat sports in or own era might agree with him, even if they have never picked up a foil.

All of this might seem very distant from the world of Guoshu and the development of duanbing.  And, in a sense, it is.  Yet it must also be remembered that the great reforms of the 1920s and 1930s did not happen in a vacuum.  Both Jingwu and Guoshu sought, in their own way, to appropriate and respond to the discourse of modern superiority which was projected by the Western imperialist powers. That is why the “traditional” Chinese martial arts which we practice now are, in fact, a product of modernity.

 

Given his frequent discussion of the benefits of fencing for female students, and his quotes from Senac’s text, it seems only appropriate to end with this image. Source: THE ART OF FENCING BY REGINALD AND LOUIS SENAC, “PROFESSIONAL CHAMPIONS OF AMERICA,” 1915.

 

Conclusion

Of course, fencing is also modern art. Katchorovsky’s embrace (even celebration), of this fact is probably a multi-layered phenomenon. On the one hand, it may have been commercially necessary to distance fencing from its historical association with dueling if one wanted to win middle class female students. Doing so might have been more challenging than one might guess as even newspapers in China were carrying stories of duels (some carried out with sabers, others with pistols) which were still happening in France as late at the 1930s. At least some of Katchorovsky’s rhetorical efforts to carve out a space for sport fencing as a distinct modern practice, unrelated to the art’s bloody past, were probably necessary. [For a sample of what else his audience might have been reading see “Savage Duel is Fought by Paris Lawyers.” The China Press, March 10, 1935. Page 3.]

Of course, “ultra-modern” practices are by definition young, trendy and more likely to be popular with university students.  Such things are also transnational and transcultural, values that he probably felt very strongly about given his constant wandering. Undoubtedly Katchorovsky reveals something of his life experience in all of this.  Scientific rationalism and international community may have been things that he could ground his identity in after the nation-state and political ideology had failed him. He many even have seen these values as tools to push back against the socially dominant narrative that defined him solely as a refugee.

Modernity takes on a variety of meanings as we read these accounts of fencing’s brief flowering in Shanghai during the 1930s.  Yet all of this was happening in concert with larger intellectual trends and global events. Katchorovsky is a valuable remainder of the role of marginal and displaced people in the popularization and spread of modern martial practices.  Beyond that, his writings offer a particularly clear glimpse into the sorts of concepts that shaped both the development of the Guoshu movement and the modern Chinese martial arts we know today.

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this discussion of the the martial arts scene is Shanghai in the 1930s you might also want to read: Mixed Martial Arts in Shanghai, 1925

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Wang Ziping and the Early Days of Wushu: Two Important Films

 

Introduction

Wang Ziping (1881-1973) was an iconic figure within the world of the Republican martial arts.  Having gained fame through his many feats of strength and public fights, the Muslim martial artist from Heibi province went on to hold important positions in the Central Guoshu Institute.  Indeed, he was one of the few Chinese martial artists ever discussed by name in the New York Times prior to the Kung Fu Craze of the 1970s.  Readers may recall that I recently wrote a brief biographical sketch of this important figure which you can review here.

Every essay must have a focus, and that piece was most concerned with the early years of Wang’s life and his contributions to the Guoshu movement.  Unfortunately, I could only touch on his remarkable “second act.”  While many important teachers fled to Taiwan, Hong Kong or South East Asia in 1949, Wang stayed in mainland China and went on to have a distinguished career both as a traditional Chinese medical practitioner and as an elder stateman of the martial arts. The Communist government would tap Wang for several important appointments and honors, all of which served to call him back into service as a supporter of the newly emerging Wushu program.

I hope to explore this later phase of Wang’s career in some of my future writings. Yet I think all would agree that the greatest honor came in 1960 when Zhou Enlai requested his presence on a state visit to Myanmar.  Here he was once again called upon to demonstrate, and to be the public face of, the Chinese martial arts.

Multiple histories have already noted the significance of this trip.  Less appreciated is the fact that in the years immediately following this expedition Wang was also used to educated English speaking Western audiences about the importance of the Chinese martial arts and their connection to the “New China.” In many respects, Wang’s role as “Kung Fu diplomat” was just getting started in 1949.  His name would appear in publications such as China Reconstructs, one of the few official English language propaganda channels that the PRC sponsored during the period.

Still, I must admit that I have always had questions. When Wang was tapped to go to Myanmar he would have been close to 80 years old.  After a lifetime of fights and punishing strength training (we often forget that in his youth Wang was also famous as a wrestler and professional strongman), what sort of demonstration would he have been able to offer?  Did he undertake this trip primarily as a martial artist, or more as an elder statesman of what Western scholars refer to as “cultural diplomacy”? Short of finding some detailed film footage from the era, I assumed that this would be an impossible question to really answer. Many issues in the field of martial arts history will, by their very nature, remain a mystery.

 

 

Two Views of Wang Ziping

One can only imagine my surprise when I came across not one, but two, pieces of footage, both shot in 1963, that provided a pretty definitive answer to my question.  Not only was Wang still active at the age of 80, he moved fantastically. Better yet, these films compliment the few other clips I had been able to locate on YouTube. Yet they did not come without some questions of their own.

Interested readers can link to these films here and here. Both clips are just under two minutes and offer a clear, well directed, vision of the period’s developing Wushu culture, complete with English language narration.  Ironically, I came across both of these clips on the Getty Image database earlier in the Spring of 2018 when I was looking for newsreel footage of Chinese soldiers with dadao’s during the 1930s.  I realized that both films were quite exciting, but it took a while for my own writing and research to catch up with them.

Sadly, Getty does not provide their properties with the types of citations that are generally required in academic publications, but we do have some information. Their labels make it clear that both clips came from some sort of English language “cultural survey” that the Chinese government completed in 1963.  The actual title of this project, and how it was distributed to the West, are all left to the imaginations of the reader.

I have yet to resolve these questions and would appreciate any input that readers of this blog might have.  Yet as I further explored the archive it became clear that there were many other clips from the same project.  Some of these dealt with other traditional Chinese arts (such as the construction of miniature wood carvings).  But the majority of them reflected the dominant discourses seen in other period propaganda pieces. China was shown as a technologically advanced, wealthy, nation that had already achieved a high degree of industrialization. Indeed, it was getting ready to challenge the West on its own terms.  In one clip Chinese scientists were shown researching new petroleum products.  In another Chinese surgeons successfully reattached a hand that had been severed in an industrial accident.

All of this should help us to properly frame and understand these clips. The view of China which this “cultural survey” set out to construct was overwhelming that of an advanced and industrialized nation. While clearly noting that the Wushu was an aspect of China’s traditional physical culture (or more specifically, a type “traditional calisthenics”), one got the sense that all of this was meant to underline the fundamental modernity that ran throughout the rest of the project. Foreign audiences were not meant to see in these scenes a romantic view of an unchanging China.  Given the film’s avowedly Marxist viewpoint, its fundamental argument was that China had changed, and so had its martial arts.

 

 

These large themes can be seen in both clips. But beyond that, each clip seems to accomplish different goals for its Western audience. The first of these runs for 1:51 seconds.  It opens with an establishing shot of senior citizens preforming Taijiquan in the park. Indeed, the age of the practitioners seems to be an organizing principal of this brief film.  Having hailed the audience with what was already a fairly common trope, the camera then cuts to a shot of Wang Ziping leading a large group of children through a similar type of exercise.  This scene seemed to have its own message.  While “New China” was moving on, the younger generation would not forget their fundamental identity.

Questions of identity come up repeatedly in the narration of this brief clip.  The next shot shows an enthusiastic young boy demonstrating a dynamic dao routine.  The narrator informs the English speaking audience that Wushu was an art with uniquely “Chinese characteristics.” These could be found in its penchant for combining opposed sorts of movement.

As if to illustrate that point the camera then cut to Wang, who was demonstrating a sword set using a long, two handed jian. This is perhaps the best sequence in the film as it clearly establishes the virtuosity of his techniques.  Yet rather than naming the master, the narrator simply informs the audience that such practices are “popular among the broad masses of the working people.”

 

 

 

Even when dealing with foreign audiences, China’s new government sought to define and justify the martial arts at least partially through a class-based narrative.  Yes, this was “traditional” physical culture but, more importantly, it was property of the masses.  Wang’s anonymous performance stood in technical contrast to what was about to come next. It seemed to exemplify the neo-historicism of certain aspects of the Republican period (such as a fascination with the archaic two handed jian) which was in contrast to the streamlined and socially conscious Wushu to come.

Having introduced both the very old, and the very young, the film then cut to the athletic performance of young adults in their prime.  First an individual (who bears at least some resemblance to Wang’s son), dressed in a white silk performance costume, performed a more vigorous Jian set.  The performance was spectacular and kinetic. After that we are introduced to the more acrobatic aspect of Wushu when an unarmed fighter is forced to “defend” himself from a dao wielding opponent. The visual tension was further escalated with a spear vs. double dagger performance. Both exciting and theatrical, such sets had been the mainstay of public demonstrations in the 1920s and 1930s. Finally, the clip ends with a female performing a solo set with the Emei piercers. She was dressed in the same silk uniform as the other university age performers who had come before.

None of the individuals in this clip were named. Rather, everyone was presented as a general cultural type: the group of old people doing Taijiquan in the park, the enthusiastic young students, and (most importantly) the mysterious teacher.  Yet all of them were shown as contributing to the explosion of kinetic vigor seen in the final Wushu demonstrations.  The narration of this film sought, in simple terms, to define this new Wushu for Western audience.  Yet the director’s arrangement of visual images presented an equally compelling argument as to how a resurgent China was reframing and transforming its traditional cultural heritage.

 

 

The second film seeks to tell a very different story. Rather than defining Wushu, it uses traditional martial arts practice to explore the lives of a “typical Chinese family” living in a luxuriously furnished apartment in Shanghai.  Of course, the patriarch of this multi-generational family is Wang Ziping.

If anything, the second clip is even more dramatic.  It begins with a shot of Shanghai in the evening, focusing on the street lights and scenes of vehicles driving by the water. We then see the glowing windows of Wang’s residence as though we were visitors walking up the sidewalk.

As the camera moves inside, a family comes into focus. Whereas all of the figures in the previous clip were anonymous representation of the nation, we are now guests in a home. Introductions are in order.  These begin with Wang himself, who is shown working on a piece of calligraphy. The audience is informed that Wang is a doctor of traditional Chinese medicine, and the camera cuts to a quick shot of his clinic where he can be seen manipulating a patient’s arm.

Next, we meet Wang’s son.  While his father wears traditional clothing, the son, like everyone else, is smartly dressed in western attire.  He plays some type of shuffle board game with a number of other family members.  We learn that he too is a physician.

After that we are introduced to Wang’s daughter and her husband, both of whom are professors.  The camera then pans from a shot of the two speaking with their children, to a framed photograph on the wall in which Mrs. Wang is putting a group of identically dressed Wushu students through their paces.  This would seem to answer any question as to what subject she taught.

Once we have established for the Western audience that this is indeed a “typical” Chinese family, we are then told that the Wang’s do have one unique characteristic.  Despite their many professional commitments, they all gather during their free time to practice various types of Wushu in the park.  A set of traditional weapons are shown leaning against a park bench and one by one a set of hands appears to claim them.  A long continuous shot then weaves through the family group showing everyone involved in their own solo practice.

Finally, the viewers gaze is allowed to settle on Wang. He has again resumed his role as teacher and cultural guardian.  We can see his face as he happily instructs one of his grandchildren. The segment ends as the camera pulls back to reveal a family united by practice.

 

 

 

Conclusion

There are many remarkable things about this second film. Perhaps the most basic might be that Communist (and even Republican) authorities tended to treat family/lineage-based practices with a fair degree of suspicion. These were seen as being based on pre-modern modes of social arrangements, and individuals ended up investing their loyalty in the group rather than the party or the nation.

The advent of the Cultural Revolution in 1965 would see a forceful reemergence of these claims, and the subsequent suppression of much traditional martial arts practice.  This film shows a very different vision of family practice, one in which there are no doubts as to anyone’s loyalties, or their equal value to the group. Indeed, Wushu has been adopted as a means to tell Western viewers something important about the modern Chinese family.  Under the guiding hand of the CCP, practices that might have been harmful to individuals or the nation have been rectified and made socially useful. If this is true for the martial arts, we can also rest assured that it is true for gender and family relations.

Nor was the first clip actually content to simply define Wushu.  If the second film sought to use a visual portrayal of these practices to explain the family, it appears that the first’s real subject is the Chinese nation.  The intergenerational portrayal of the Wushu was not a coincidence.  Indeed, it can be read as an argument about transmission.  What exactly does the narrator mean when he notes that Wushu possesses “Chinese characteristics?”  The virtuosity of the anonymous teacher, and the explosive potential of his adult students, suggest that the stabilization of these traits was not a random or automatic process.  Rather it was one of refinement and discernment, the creation of something essential by those who worked under the authority of a benevolent state.

These clips are remarkable not just because of the technical prowess that Wang and his family display.  They also indicate that even prior to the advent of the Cultural Revolution the Chinese government was seriously investigating the use of the martial arts as a soft power resource.  More specifically, in these clips they sought to use visual representations of Wushu to convey basic principles about the nature of the new Chinese state and the reformed (yet still reassuring traditional) family.  Wang himself can be seen not just as a leading figure within the traditional Chinese martial arts community, but as a pioneer of the basic Kung Fu Diplomacy strategy which would come to define much of the global view of these practices in the current era.

 

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this discussion you might also want to read: Lives of Chinese Martial Artists (22): Wang Ziping and the Strength of the Nation

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Play and Learning in the Martial Arts

Three unidentified children practice Kung Fu near the Shaolin Temple. This newswire photo was taken in 1982 and it captures the first moments of the “Golden Age” of Kung Fu in mainland China.

 

The Problem with Play

I have always found TED talks to be a mixed bag. Some are wonderful. Others I find vaguely irritating. But the project itself, which seeks to popularize some of the most important “big ideas,” is deeply interesting.  If nothing else, scrolling through a list of titles on the video platform of your choice is a good way to see which concepts are currently making their way into popular consciousness. That is important as scholars are increasingly being judged by the sorts of “real world” effects that their research generates.

If the “TED Index” has any validity, there is one idea whose time has truly come.  “Play” is back.  After decades of being little more than a term of abuse, a purposeless activity relegated to the realm of childhood, play has recently become an important concept.  While few individuals, other than a handful of psychologists and evolutionary biologists, thought about play a decade ago, today studies are being conducted, grants are being written and (many) books published.

This material seems to have come to a general agreement on a few key facts.  Play is a very important aspect of human (indeed, all mammal) learning and development. Individuals who are artificially deprived of play tend to be less creative, flexible, resilient and have an increased likelihood of psychological disorders.  The rise of anxiety, depression and suicide in the Western world, while typically blamed on cell phones and Facebook, also corresponds with the increasing displacement of all forms of play from the lives of tightly scheduled children and young adults.  It seems that the entire TED circuit speaks with a single voice when they tell us that we are facing a crisis.  As Weber’s iron cage of modern rationality grinds on, play has become an endangered species.  The result is a society filled with less creative, less sociable, and less psychologically resilient individuals, precisely at the moment when we need those sorts of attributes the most.

Nor is this simply a matter of concern for parents and school administrators. While most mammals retain some interest in play, humans are practically unique (or at least right up there with dolphins and sea otters) in that extended periods of play remain necessary for adults as well.  As one of the afore mentioned TED talks noted, the opposite of play isn’t “work.”  Its depression.  And that quip brings us to the heart of our problem.  Play has a branding problem.  Can the martial arts help?

As with so much else, I blame the Puritans for all of this. The advent of the protestant work ethic represented a fundamental break with traditional modes of social organization across large portions of the West. While there is much that we could say on the topic (indeed, entire books and articles have been written on the subject), for the purposes of the current post it is enough to note that frivolous activities came under severe scrutiny in a society where an individual’s personal value became increasingly conflated with their net worth.  After all, the one thing that no society can abide is an individual who fails to take its values seriously.  In short order “play” came to be regarded with suspicion.

Nor has the increasing secularization of society done anything to alleviate this problem.  If anything, it has gotten far worse in recent decades.  School years are longer now than they were two generations ago, and seemingly secondary subjects like music, art and recess have all found themselves on the chopping block.  The sorts of athletic leagues that most children find themselves in today are so tightly supervised and disciplined that they no longer meet even the most basic definitions of play. Indeed, the need for constant resume building has eliminated much of the unsupervised “downtime” in which childhood used to occur in.

 

Naganita Class. Okayama City, 1935. Source: Old Japan Photos.

 

Martial Arts Practice as Play

This is the section of the essay where I typically introduce martial arts practice as the unexpected solution to what ever issue kicked off our discussion.  Unfortunately, the relationship between the martial art and play is complex and multilayered.  On the one hand, these practices have been haunted by the widely held perception that they are not something that “serious” people do.  Spending an hour a day training for your half marathon is fine, even admirable.  But spending that same hour in a kung fu or kickboxing class can elicit sideways glances and nervous laughter.  Paul Bowman tries to unwrap what is going on here in the opening chapters of his volume Mythologies of Martial Arts(2016).  His arguments are well worth reviewing. But in brief, the alien and seemingly pre-modern nature of the Asian martial arts makes it difficult to incorporate them into Western society’s dominant discourses.

The health benefits of jogging are obvious, as are the competitive virtues of winning a 10K race. They require no explanation.  Yet one must always explain that kickboxing is a great workout, or that BJJ “burns a lot of calories.”  Martial artists are constantly, and with only partial success, justifying the resources that they spend on their training.  Yet at the end of the day, for most members of society, this will always be “just playing around.”  Children may get some benefits from martial arts training.  But Master Ken remains a telling image of the overly serious adult student who never managed to grow up. Serious martial arts training remains unavailable to many adults precisely because it is perceived as a type of (delusional) “play.”

The irony is that many, maybe even most, martial arts class rooms are devoid of actual play.  Real play, true play, can be antithetical to the goals of many martial arts schools.  To understand why this is we need to think a little more carefully about play itself. Unfortunately there are lots of definitions floating around and they don’t all agree. Still, I know play when I see it.  For a short essay like this a compete clinical definition probably isn’t necessary.  Luckily there are a few broadly held points of agreement that can guide our thinking.

To begin with, play is not the same thing as inaction or simply a lack of seriousness. It is an independent process in its own right, with both psychological and social aspects.  There are many types of play.  Some are deeply imaginative and others are not, being primarily observational or embodied. True play is an independently chosen activity that happens in the absence of a directing authority.  It is basically a truism to say that no one can force you to play. Play is generally seen as being purposeless.  This does not mean that it has no impact on an individual’s life.  Rather, it happens for its own sake. To summarize, fun activities are “play” only if they are self-controlled and self-directed.

A psychologist or social scientist may look at what happens in the average Taekwondo class and see a highly creative modern ritual. Individuals dress in symbolic clothing and engage in rites of reversal that upend mundane social values (such as don’t hit your friends or choke your siblings). And yet many training environments go out of their way to avoid an air of playfulness.  In its place we find the formality of ritual and the constant supervision (and correction) of concerned teachers.  Indeed, the parents of the children in the class are likely to be found on folding chairs in the school’s lobby, closely monitoring everyone’s progress. This is a type of performance staged for social purposes rather than individual play. Much the same could be said for most school sports.

One may have quite a bit of fun in such a structured martial arts class (I know I always do).  And there is no doubt that students learn and derive all sorts of physical and social benefits from participating in such classes.  And yet all of this is basically the antithesis of play.  The general feeling seems to be that not only would play in a martial environment be unproductive (how can one learn “good habits” without constant correction and oversight?), but that it might also be dangerous.  Just stop to think about the arsenal of weapons that line the walls of the average kung fu school?  Do you really want to turn the students loose for long periods of unstructured play?  Perhaps the opposite of play is actually “liability insurance.”

Luckily my own Sifu didn’t seem to believe that last point.  I can confidentially say that unstructured play was critical to my development as a Wing Chun student. Indeed, it was an important part of the curriculum.

Standard classes, graded by level and each having a well-developed curriculum, were held four nights a week at Wing Chun Hall in Salt Lake City. Yet Jon Nielson, my Sifu, was aware that more was needed when attempting to find your own place in the martial arts community.  So every Friday evening and Saturday morning his school would open for three hours of unsupervised “practice time” for anyone who wanted to come. Students of the Wing Chun Hall were expected to attend these “open sessions” on a semi-regular basis (and there was never any cost for doing so).  Even individuals from other schools were welcome to come by and train with the Wing Chun people if they so desired.  The critical thing, however, was that the one person who was rarely ever there was Sifu. The sessions were instead monitored (but not run) by his junior instructors who were under strict orders to help if asked. Otherwise students were left to train how they saw fit.  If someone wanted to learn some basic dummy exercises, even though they were years away from starting the dummy form, this was their time to do it.

Most people would come to an open session with some sort of goal in mind.  Maybe they wanted to work on a specific form.  Perhaps they were having trouble with ground-work, or one of the paired exercises that had been introduced during the week.  And it goes without saying that everyone wanted to practice Chi Sao with the more senior students (or to touch hands with visitors from different styles).

Yet three hours is a long time.  One would inevitably be drawn into all sorts of other drills, exercises and discussions that you had never envisioned. The second and third hour of any sessions always seemed to evolve organically. One might well come in to work on the dummy and end up with a pole in your hands.  I still have fond memories of one Saturday spent making up a game so that new Siu Lim Tao students could practice their footwork. While these open sessions tended to start out as directed and focused, by about hour two things had become much more fluid.

My sifu instituted these open sessions for a couple of reasons.  To begin with, everyone needs a night off.  And we can all use more hours of practice when it comes to the sorts of sensitivity drills that Wing Chun so loves.  These things are not like riding bike.  Once certainly will forget them, and you are never any better than however many hours of practice you put in the month before.

Beyond that, my Sifu was also a keen student of pedagogy.  He carefully explained to me the importance of unstructured play, free of judgement or overbearing correction, in learning any physical skill.  More specifically, he noted that this was where students would learn to trust their bodies, bodies that were now defined through a new set of skills.  And it was those martially educated bodies that would make judgements about the world. Understanding whether someone was a threat, or whether a technique was working, was an embodied process.  Teaching and drilling this material during the more structured nightly classes was not enough.  It was also a matter of how that knowledge was internalized, localized, modified and rearranged.  Drawing on his background in linguistics he noted that kung fu meant “hard/skillful work” (and it certainly is), but in China the martial arts are often associated with the verb “to play.”  One “plays wushu,” or goes to “play sticky hands.”  Both modes of action, he suggested, exist in a reciprocal relationship. Self-controlled and self-directed play is not disposable or supplemental.  Properly understood, it is a critical aspect of the learning process.

 

Chad Eisner (left) sparring with one of his students.

 

A Common Sentiment

I had not thought about my teacher’s open sessions (and how much fun they were) in a while.  But earlier this week I bumped into an old friend at the grocery store who had recently returned to the US after living abroad. She asked how my martial arts training was going and, while mentioning my various projects, I noted an upcoming workshop with a guest instructor that I would be hosting for the lightsaber combat group here in Ithaca.

My friend already considers my Chinese martial arts practice to be strange enough.  But apparently she had been gone long enough that she didn’t know about the lightsaber project.  It elicited a laugh hinting at something other than delight.  Still, laughter from the uninitiated comes with the territory when one is holding a lightsaber (or, if we are being totally honest, any other type of sword).  I noted that, if nothing else, it is easier to fill a class with lightsaber students than, say, the traditional Wing Chun swords.  She immediately noted that she would be much more likely to come to the later, “but to each their own.”

This was not the first time I have heard something like this.  When explaining to curious passersby that our lightsaber system is based, in large part, on traditional Chinese swordsmanship, this is actually a pretty common response. Everyone it seems, is more interested in “serious” fencing or maybe Wudang sword practice.  And yet we all know that the vast majority of these individuals would never actually show up for that class.  Ithaca is full of highly skilled traditional martial arts teachers that struggle to find more than a handful of students. The sad truth is, to an outside observer, anyone who voluntarily spends that much time with a sword isn’t being “serious.” How could they be?  Isn’t it all just for fun?  You might call it training, but for most people it will always be “just playing around.”

One of the challenges facing the modern martial arts is not to internalize this common critique.  It is all too easy to respond to these questions by reframing all of our activities as investments and “hard work.”  Indeed, the nationalist turn taken by the Japanese and Chinese arts in the 1930s explicitly argued that the goals of hand combat practice were fundamentally a continuation of modernist project.  The martial arts of the era demanded (and received) state support precisely because they argued that they had moved beyond childish things and become a means of “strengthening the nation.”

Such rhetoric was intoxicatingly effective in the 1930s and 1940s.  Yet these arguments work less well in the consumer driven spaces that define the modern West.  Few people want to pay $100 a month to be part of a nationalist indoctrination program.

Nor, given our increased understanding of the importance of play as an aspect of mental health, as well as its critical importance to the learning process, a move back to the “seriousness” of the 1930s would not be wise.  Sadly the martial arts sector lacks the visibility to create a widespread desire for play in the West.  I suppose that is the job of public intellectuals, morning talk show appearances, NY Times best sellers and (if all else fails) TED talks. Yet what we can do is to provide spaces for less-structured play in our classes, organizations and training structures.  My Sifu did that for me, and it was immensely valuable. After speaking with my friend I realized that my lightsaber classes might need something similar. It is not enough that an activity is imaginative or fun. We all learn fastest when given opportunities for truly independent play.

 

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If you enjoyed this essay you might also want to read: Red Boats and the Nautical Origins of the Wooden Dummy

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Through a Lens Darkly (57): The Asian Martial Arts and Modern Primitivism

This advertisement is from the 1970s, but it hits many of the same notes as the one discussed in this post and I love its graphic nature.

 

 

Introduction

My ongoing research on the public diplomacy of the Chinese martial arts has taken a decisive turn.  The Second World War is one of those historical calamities that defines an era, and I now find myself venturing into the post-war era.  This is something of an adventure for me as I have gotten rather comfortable with the first half of the twentieth century.

Adventures are fun.  But any journey worth the trip is also a bit intimidating. Moving into a new era inevitably means loosening my grip on old assumptions and trying to see familiar processes through new eyes.  More specifically, if we are going to understand how various Asian states engaged in “Kung Fu Diplomacy” in the 1950s and 1960s it becomes vitally important to learn a little more about the attitudes of the Western public that they were attempting to appeal to.  What sorts of desires and predispositions do we find here?  Why might images of the martial arts appealed to them? What did they make of updated martial arts practices the post-war period?

Such answers might help to explain some of the remaining paradoxes regarding the post-war globalization of the Asian martial arts. For instance, it makes sense that Americans would have found the Japanese martial arts more interesting than their Chinese cousins during the 1910s.  Japan had just shocked the world with their defeat of Russia, and all sorts of travel writers were commenting on the rapid modernization of its society. It was inevitable that the Western public would develop an interest in their martial arts as it sought to come to terms with a newly ascendant Japan.

This is a logical, cohesive, and widely shared narrative. It also makes what happens after WWII something of a paradox.  If there had been a degree of polite interest in the Japanese martial arts during the 1910s-1930s, it paled in comparison to the boom unleashed during the 1950s.  Yet this was a humbled Japan, one that had been exposed as a brutal fascist power and utterly broken on the battlefield of the Pacific. China, on the other hand, had been on the winning side of this conflict and an ally (if a somewhat reluctant one) of the West.  Yet American GI’s remained vastly more interested in judo than kung fu.

Perhaps Japan’s status as an occupied country after 1945 made its culture available for colonial appropriation in ways that had not really been possible in the 1920s-1930s.  If nothing, else the country was hosting a sizable occupation force? Yet China’s status as a defacto colonial power in the late Qing and early Republic period did not seem to make its physical culture all that attractive to the many missionaries, government functionaries and YMCA directors that administered the Western zones of influence there.

Donn Draeger explained his interest in the Japanese martial arts by noting the superior performance of Japanese soldiers on the battlefield. Yet surely that had as much to do with their superior weapons, officers and communications systems as anything else. Something in this equation remains unexplained.  Japan continued to possess a store of cultural desire (or “soft power”) that was intuitively obvious to individuals at the time. But what exactly was it? Ruth Benedict’s controversial book, the Chrysanthemum and the Sword, has been widely criticized for what it got wrong about Japanese society.  Yet we still need to come to terms with its popularity.  What does this say about the Western adoption of the martial arts, and their continued preference for Japanese, rather than Chinese, fighting systems in the 1950s and early 1960s.  After all, it was an era when American servicemen and women were being in posted in Taiwan and all over the Pacific region.  Why not a sudden interest in White Crane?

 

Funny story, I decided to write this post while listening to a DJ on an NPR’s Retro Cocktail Hour play this record.

 

 

Visiting the Tiki Bar

We can shed some light on this small mystery by turning our attention to a larger paradox, emerging from the realm of architecture.  In 1949 the Eames finished construction on “Case Study Number 8”, now known simply as the Eames House.  This masterpiece of modern design was an experiment in using newly available “off the shelf” materials (many invented during WWII) to create functional modern dwellings to address America’s post-war housing crisis.  If one were searching for a harbinger of mid-century design, something that would begin to push its simplified, functional, glass and steel lines into the mainstream of American culture, this might well be it.

Yet this was not the only architectural trend to explode in the early 1950s.  At exactly the same time that Americans were building mid-century masterpieces, they were also creating thousands of cringeworthy Tiki bars.  It would be hard to think of two aesthetic visions that could be more opposed to each other.  Why would the flannel suit clad worshipers of America’s modernist temples spend their evenings in Tiki bars, listening to an endless supply of ethnically inspired vinyl records that inevitably featured the word “savage” in their titles?

Americans are restless spirits searching for paradise.  Their popular culture has been shaped by reoccurring debates about where it is to be found, and how one might acquire such an ephemeral state.  Much of the 19thcentury was invested in debates between pre and post-millennial religious movements.  In the early 20thcentury these currents secularized and reemerged as a debate between what I will call “progressive modernism” and “modern primitivism.”

It was the core values of progressive moderns that the period’s architecture rendered in steel and concrete. This social movement exhibited an immense faith in the ability of technology to address a wide range of material and social challenges, and the wisdom of human beings to administer these ever more complex systems. The era that gave us the space race promised that man’s destiny lay among the stars, and it was only of matter of time until well ordered, rational, societies reached them.  Of course, there were underlying discourses that found a certain expression in the 1950s.  It is clear that science and modernism had been looking for a future paradise in the stars since at least the time of Jules Verne.  But the 1950s threatened to make this vision a reality.

Reactions against progressive modernism also had their roots in the pre-war period.  Post-impressionist artists were becoming increasingly concerned about the sorts of social alienation that technological change brought.  They turned to African, Native American and Asian art as models because the abstract forms they found within them seemed to symbolize the alienation of modern individuals cut off from traditional modes of understanding.  Yet these “primitive” models also offered a different vision of paradise, the promise that an early Garden of Eden could still be recovered if we were to turn our backs on a narrow vision of progress and attempt to recapture the wisdom that “primitive” communities possessed.

The current of “modern primitivism” surged again in the post-war era, a period of unprecedented economic and technological change.  A wide range of thinkers once again became concerned with creeping alienation.  Some noted that that an Eden could be found within.  Joseph Campbell, drawing on the work of Jung and Freud, released his landmark Hero with a Thousand Facesin 1949.  Rather than seeing happiness and fulfillment as something to be achieved through future progress, Campbell drew on psychological models to argue for a return to something that was timeless.  The stories of forgotten and “primitive” societies were a sign post to our collective birth right.  Likewise, Alan Watt’s the great popularizer of Zen Buddhism, published prolifically throughout the 1950s and 1960s, feeding an endless desire for an internal technology that could insulate us against fears of displacement, alienation and even nuclear annihilation.

It is easy to discount the Tiki Bar, to treat it as an architectural oddity.  Yet it was simply a popular manifestation of a fascination with naturalism and primitivism whose genealogy stretches back to the first years of the twentieth century. The easy play with sexual innuendo and hyper-masculinity that marked these spaces makes sense when placed within the larger discourses on the stifling effects of modernism, social conformity and the need to return to a more “primitive” state to find human fulfillment.  The savage was held up as someone who bore a secret vitally important to navigating those temples of glass and steel that marked the American landscape.

 

 

 

A Kendo Lesson

The pieces are now in place to approach the central subject of this essay.  Throughout the 1950s and 1960s Canadian Club whisky ran an advertising campaign attempting to associate their product with notions of exotic travel and (luxurious) adventure. In an era when much of the advertising in the alcohol market focused on nostalgic images of hearth and home (situating the consumption of whisky within a comfortable upper-middle class heteronormativity) Canadian Club asked its drinkers to aspire to something more.  It featured images of archeological expeditions to Central America, safaris in Africa, and (of course) adventures in the exotic east.

Yet the fulfillment in these adds was not simply the product of getting back to nature, or living in a more primitive condition. It was necessary to physically strive with the citizens of these realms to capture some aspect of their wisdom.  At times these advertisements, each of which reads like a miniature travelogue, seem to spend as much time advertising hoplology as whiskey.  Of course, nothing as prosaic as judo was featured in these adds. One did not need to join the jet set to experience Kano’s gentle art.  More exotic practices, including jousting matches between Mexican cowboys, stick fighting in Portugal, and Japanese kendo were held up as the true measure of a man.

Judging from years of watching eBay auctions, the Kendo campaign was Canadian Clubs most successful of their excursions into hoplology. Or, more accurately, people have been more likely to preserve the Kendo advertisements than some of the other (equally interesting) campaigns.

Titled “In Japanese Kendo its no runs, all hits and no errors” the advertisement tells the story of traveler who comes to Japan and, after a brief period of instruction, joins a kendo tournament.  Readers are informed:

“A greenhorn hasn’t a chance when he crosses ‘swords’ in a Japanese Kendo match,” writes John Rich, an American friend of Canadian Club “In Tokyo I took a whack at this slam-bang survivor of Japan’s 12thcentury samurai warrior days.  The Samurai lived by the sword and glorified his flashing blade.  His peaceful descendant uses a two-handed bamboo shinai in a lunging duel that makes Western fencing look like a dancing class.”

Predictably, things go badly for Mr. Rich who is immediately eliminated without being able to get a blow in against his first opponent. His instructor informs him that he “needs more training.” But its ok, because even in an environment as exotic as this, one can still enjoy Canadian Club whisky with your fellow adventurers. Interestingly, the advertisement places Mori Sensei within the category of fellow travelers when he opens a bottle from his personal reserves.  Thus, a community is formed between the jet setting adventurer and the bearer of primitive wisdom through their shared admiration for the same popular brand.

So what is the Ethos of a kendo tournament, at least according to a 1955 alcohol advertisement?  It is challenging and painful.  But is it primitive?  Is it savage?

Historians of the Japanese martial arts can easily inform us that Kendo is basically a product of the 19thand early 20thcenturies.  Yet this advertisement repeatedly equates it with the world of the samurai, thus suggests that something medieval lives on in Japan.  According to mythmakers in both East and West, this is a defining feature of Japanese culture.  So clearly there is a type of “primitivism” here.

Nor does one need to look far for the savagery.  It is interesting to think about what sorts of practices we don’t see in these advertisements.  I have never seen a Canadian Club story on judo, Mongolian wrestling or professional wrestling. Not all of these adds focus on combat, the jet setter had many adventures to consume. Yet when the martial arts did appear, they inevitably involved weapons.  I suspect this is not a coincidence.

Paul Bowman meditated on the meaning of these sorts of issues in his 2016 volume Mythologies of Martial Arts.   While those of us within the traditional martial arts think nothing of picking up a stick, training knife or sword, he sought to remind us that to most outsiders, such activities lay on a scale somewhere between “deranged” on one end and “demented” on the other.  While one might argue for the need for “practical self-defense,” it is a self-evident fact few people carry swords in the current era and even fewer are attacked with them while walking through sketchy parking garages. There is just very little rational justification for this sort of behavior.  Most of who engage in regular weapons practice can speak at length about why we find these practices rewarding, or how they help to connect us with the past. But all of that rests on a type of connoisseurship that most people would find mystifying.  For them, an individual who plays with swords has either seen too many ninja movies or is simply asking for trouble.  Playing with weapons (as opposed to more responsible pursuit like jogging, or even cardo kick-boxing) is almost the definition of “savage.”

But what about an entire society that plays with swords? What if one has been told, rightly or wrongly, that this is a core social value?  It is that very disjoint with modernity that would make such a group a target for the desires of modern primitivism.  The problem with the Chinese (and hence the Chinese martial arts) was not that they won or lost any given war.  Rather, it was the (entirely correct) perception that the Chinese people did not valorize violence.  Despite all of the critiques that were directed at their “backward state” and “failure to modernize” in the 1920s-1930s, their pacific nature was seen as a positive value widely shared with the West (indeed, it was a point of emphasis in WWII propaganda films).  Ironically, that similarity would serve to make Chinese boxing less appealing to the sorts of individuals who consumer Canadian Club whisky, or at least its advertisement.  Nor did the actual performance of real Japanese troops on specific battlefields determine the desirability of their martial arts.  It was the image of cultural essentialism (carefully constructed by opinion makers in both Japan and the West), which made kendo desirable because of its “primitive nature,” not despite it.

Seen in this light, the early global spread of the Japanese arts makes more sense.  What had once been a modernist and nationalist project could play a different role in the post-war American landscape.  These arts promised a type of self-transformation that placed them in close proximity to the currents of modern primitivism.  While the Tiki bar appealed to those who sought temporary release from the strictures of progressive modernism, the martial arts spoke to those who sought a different sort of paradise.  Theirs was an Eden to be found in the wisdom of “primitive” societies and the search for the savage within.

 

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If you enjoyed this essay you might also want to read: The Tao of Tom and Jerry: Krug on the Appropriation of the Asian Martial Arts in Western Culture

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Individualism, Art and Craft: Reading Bruce Lee by the Numbers

 

 

 

Interpreting Bruce Lee

We may debate lists of the 20th century’s most influential martial artists,* but when it comes to written texts, there is simply no question.  “Liberate Yourself from Classical Karate,”  Bruce Lee’s 1971 manifesto, first appearing in the September issue of Black Belt magazine, has been reprinted, read, criticized and commented upon more than any other English language work.  Like many aspects of Lee’s legacy, it has generated a fair degree of controversy.  But what interests me the most is the scope and character of its audience.

One might suppose that Lee’s essay would have been read primarily by the Karate students that the title hailed, or perhaps by the generations of Kung Fu students who have come to idolize him.  And it is entirely understandable that this text has assumed an important place within the Jeet Kune Do community.  Yet its title notwithstanding, Lee never intended this piece as a narrow argument.  Nor, when we get right down to it, was Lee actually trying to convince anyone to quite Karate in favor of another style.  Such nationalist or partisan concerns were a feature of the earlier phase of his career. By 1971 Lee was concerned with more fundamental issues.

Yet all of these statements are really my own personal readings, and as such they open the door to questions of interpretation. What are the most valid ways to read Lee’s famous essay? And what sorts of interpretations might be unsupportable, what Umberto Eco called “overinterpretations” (See “Interpretation and Overinterpretation: World, History, Texts” (Cambridge University 1990). I have it on good authority that two of my friends are currently preparing a debate on this text, and what it suggests about the validity of various theories of interpretation, which will appear in a future issue of Martial Arts Studies.

With that on the horizon, I am hesitant to venture too far into the same territory.  Yet if he were here, Umberto Eco’s would probably point out that a close reading reveals that Lee seems to have had some well-developed thoughts on how his essay should be read, and what sorts of interpretations of this text (and the Jeet Kune Do project more generally), might be considered valid.  Lee begins his argument with the well known story of the Zen master overflowing a cup of tea precisely to head off responses to his work that might be classified as “arguments from authority.”  Indeed, in the very next paragraph he tells his readers that he has structured his essay like the traditional martial arts classes that they are all so familiar with. First the mental limbering up must happen so that one’s received bodily (or mental) habits can be set aside.  Only then is it possible to see events as they actually are, without resorting to the crutch of style (or perhaps theory) to tell you what you are perceiving.

As a social scientist I am very suspicious of those who claim to be able to put “theory” aside and to simply see a situation for what it really is. As one of my old instructors colorfully declared, no such thing is possibly.  “Theory is hardwired into our eyeballs.”  It is fundamental to how our brains make sense of raw stimulus. We all have so many layers of mental habit, training and predisposition that the notion of setting it aside is fundamentally misguided.  Much the same could be said of our bodily predispositions.  Lee is correct in that one can set aside style.  But the more basic structures that Marcel Mauss called “techniques of the body”, or Bourdieu’s socio-economically defined (and defining) “habitus,” are not things that can ever really be set aside. Seeing the world with no filter at all, dealing with pure objective reality, is not possible, no matter how much enthusiasm Lee generates for the project.

On a personal level I suspect that while we all strive (and we should strive) to empty our cups, the best we can actually do is to try and be aware of the unique perspectives that each of us bring to an event. For instance, when Lee composed the arguments and images that make up this essay, it was with the intention of constructing what Eco called a “model reader”, someone who would become sympathetic to the arguments that he was trying to make. This was not necessarily a reader who would quit his karate class and put on a JKD shirt (though that might happen).  Again, Lee was pretty explicit about his aims.  He wasn’t trying to make America’s martial artists more like him in a technical sense.  Rather, it was enough if they simply began to “leave behind the burdens of pre-conceived opinions and conclusions,” and base their training strategies on personal observations of what actually happened rather than someone else’s notions of what should happen.  In essence, Lee was not so much proposing that America’s martial artists change styles (something that by definition could only be a pointless, lateral, move). Rather, he wanted them to begin to think seriously about how exactly they knew what they knew.  He wanted them to change epistemologies.

We can say this much with confidence. Yet knowing everything that Lee wanted, or intended, as an author is tricky.  This was not a long essay, and while key points can be teased out (e.g., a surprising degree of faith in the individual and a notable suspicion of all sources of social authority), many lines in the essay remain open to interpretation.  It is the sort of text that rewards a very close, sentence by sentence, reading. Even then, all we can really know is the intention of this essay, a linguistic artifact created at a specific moment in 1971.  It is interesting to speculate as to what a much younger Lee would have made of this text.  And by the end of his life in 1973 his thoughts on the value of Jeet Kune Do seem to have evolved rather dramatically.  While we might fruitfully debate the interpretation of Lee’s text, the interpretation of its author remains a much more difficult task.

Still, Lee attempted to make it clear that certain interpretations of his text were out of bounds. It is that authorial strategy that actually brings Eco’s approach to mind as possible interpretive strategy. He notes that a proper reading would be a humanist one.  For Lee the martial arts are properly a matter of individual human activity rather than the exclusive property of nations or groups.  He notes that his essay should not be seen as a polemic by a Chinese martial artist against the Japanese bushido.  Nor should he be read as proposing a new style or system of martial training.  It also seems clear that Lee himself is the subject of the extended metaphor on page 25.  It is the author himself who in the past “discovered some partial truth” and “resisted the temptation to organize” it.  The whole story is directed towards Lee’s own students who in their enthusiasm to wrench meaning from one part of Lee’s text (or bodily practice) might fall prey to Eco’s process of “overinterpretation.”

All of this is only my interpretation of Lee’s essay, and it goes without saying that I am a type of reader that this text never anticipated.  After all, the academic study of the martial arts did not really exist in 1971, certainly not the way that it does now.

What audience did Lee, as an author, seek? What sort of “model reader” did this text intend to create? And why was there even a need to issue a call for liberation in the first place?  One might suppose that the value of freedom, self-expression and increased fighting prowess would simply be self-evident.  The fact that Lee is extolling their virtue, and calling for a fundamental change in the sources of authority that martial artists are willing to accept, suggests that it was not.

 

While I have never seen a martial arts themed paint by numbers, the “oriental other” was a popular subject between the 1950s and the 1970s.

 

Paint by Numbers

Eco may be correct that it is essentially impossible to divine the true intent of an author simply from the resulting text. Yet the complexity of that task pales in comparison with the challenge of reconstructing how his or her readers responded to that text at a given point in history.  After all, the author had the good sense to leave us with a text (even if his meanings may have been unclear).  The readers, more often than not, left nothing but nods of agreement or groans of frustration deposited within the etheric sphere.  Trying to reconstruct their experience through our own empathic imagination might really be an exercise in “organized despair,” to borrow a phrase from Lee.  Yet it is precisely in those moments, where the expectation of the reader and the intention of a text clash, that brief bursts of light are created.  And this fading conflict can suggest some of the critical features that once defined a historical landscape.  While difficult, it is worthwhile to try and discover something about the “model readers” who struggled with, and were organized by, this text.  Indeed, I actually find the readers of this essay even more interesting (and vastly more sociologically significant) than its author. Yet we know so much less about them.

While few readers took the time to provide contemporaneous documentation of their first reading of this essay (I know of no such record), it would not be correct to say that they left no evidence of their passing.  For one thing, the 1970s produced a rich material and symbolic record which suggests some interesting hypotheses about the sorts of audience that Lee would have encountered.  Two such artifacts are currently hanging on the wall of my living room.

They appear in the form of pair of paint by number landscapes, illustrating a wintery New England day so picturesque that one is quite certain that it never happened.  These paintings were completed by a woman in 1971, the same year that Lee’s essay first appeared.  One suspects that if he had taken an interest in art criticism Lee would have had much to say about my paintings. With a few choice substitutions his famous essay could easily be retitled “Liberate Yourself from the Paint by Number Kit” and it would read almost as well.

That, seemingly flippant, observation reveals an important clue about the sorts of readers (and martial artists) that Lee was addressing.  We don’t have a large body of informed martial arts criticism dating from the 1970s, but we do have a vast literature on the criticism of the visual arts.  And several critics explicitly addressed the paint by numbers fad.  The sorts of arguments that they made sound, at least to my ear, uncannily like the points that Lee was trying to make.

By 1971 the paint by number phenomenon was already a well-established part of American middle class landscape (much like the neighborhood judo club).  These kits were originally conceived of by an artist named Dan Robbins and Max S. Klein, the owner of the Palmer Paint Company.  After the end of WWII Americans leveraged their increased rights in the workplace, and a period of unprecedented economic growth, to create a new golden age of the leisure economy.  The forty-hour work week meant that workers had more free time than ever before, and they had enough income to fill those hours with an ever expanding range of activities. The visual arts were increasingly popular, but for most people doing their own paintings remained an aspirational dream.  Robbins and Klein decided that simple kits, which required only an ability to color within the lines, would provide Americans with many hours of relaxation while selling an unprecedented amount of paint. Their initial run of kits, which attempted to educate consumers about the latest trends in serious modern art, did not sell particularly well.  But when more nostalgic images of the countryside, animals, dancers and the “exotic East” were introduced, it was clear that a cultural phenomenon had been born.

This did not please most of the art critics of the day. The lack of creativity, indeed, the process of near mechanical reproduction, involved in these “paintings” came to symbolize the worst aspects of 1950s social conformity. [Note also that cover of the 1971 Black Belt issues has Lee  hyperbolically warning America’s martial artists that they are being transformed into machines].  In the view these critics, individuals were drawn to art because they wanted to experience creativity. Yet these kits promised them basic results only by foreswearing any degree of individual expression.  When the critics imaged millions of (near identical) Mona Lisas hanging on the walls of the millions of (near identical) tiny homes which populated America’s postwar landscape, they found themselves drowning in a nightmare of suburban mediocrity.

This was precisely the cultural milieu that inspired Umberto Eco to undertake his cross-continental road-trip, explicitly focusing on the question of simulation in the American imagination of fine art, which would result in his essay “Travels in Hyperreality.”   This is a work that has proved important to my own understanding of the role of cultural desire within the martial arts.  Still, the judgement of the contemporary critics was clear.  Art was the product of individual inspiration and struggle with a constantly changing world.  These paintings were not art.  At best they were a mechanically reproduced “craft.”

Yet there has always been a strain of American popular culture within which such an assertion does not work as an invective. The entire turn of the century “arts and crafts” movement (seen in architecture, furniture, and the graphic arts) explicitly rejected the elitism of high art and instead asked what sort of social benefit could be derived from the support of, and participation in, wholesome crafts in which people enriched and beautified their environments while supporting local craftsmen. Nor do most of the post-war individuals who spent their afternoons with these kits seem to have aspired to be “artists.”  While such questions may have been critical to the critics, these were not categories that structured the lives of these consumers.

Paint by numbers was popular because the process was enjoyable.  People found these kits to be relaxing. Further, the idea that one could make an object suitable for display in their own homes was intrinsically rewarding. In light of this, the critic’s emphasis on individual creativity and authenticity seems to have been misplaced.  No one bought a Mona Lisa kit because they wanted to express their authentic “inner vision.” Rather, they wanted to enter into a dialogue with that specific piece of art.  They sought to understand someone else’s vision, and to be part of a community that appreciated that.

The entire genera of paint by numbers is marked with an almost overwhelming air of nostalgia.  This was an exercise in cultivating (and satisfying) a desire for preexisting categories of meaning.  Through the reproduction of different types of art (religious images, Italian masters, American landscapes, dancing figures, Paris cityscapes, etc….) individuals sought to align themselves with, and appropriate, some specific aspect of pre-existing social authority.  Make no mistake, the creation of real art is hard work.  Yet paint by numbers succeeded as a popular medium because it took seriously the notion of leisure. The physical artifacts that it generated were, in many ways, secondary to the social and psychological benefits created.

A traditional class within the Japanese martial arts might seem quite different than a paint by number kit.  Ideally the later generates very little sweating and yelling, while the former practically demands it. Yet it is no coincidence that these pursuits both exploded into America popular culture in the 1950s, driven by the growth of the post-war leisure economy. Both sought to simplify complex elite activities and present them to the masses in such a way that they could be easily mastered. Indeed, the standardized kata and training methods seen in Meiji and Showa era martial arts schools seem to have appealed to the same social sensibilities that Robbins and Klein sought to capitalize on.

Nor do questions of individuals or individual expression figure that prominently into the early post-war martial arts discourse.  We should hedge this last point as, while they were more visible, the Asian martial arts remained outside of the hegemonic aspects of Western culture (Bowman 2017).  To practice Judo in the 1950s was an expression of individual choice and values in a way that would not have been true of Japanese school children taking a Judo class in 1937.  And it is certainly true that when many returning GI’s (and later Korean and Vietnam veterans), took up these pursuits. Some sought solace, while others were looking for a source of martial excellence.    For instance, Donn F. Draeger’s letters to R. W. Smith make it clear that he was quite interested in the Japanese koryu, but had no interest in contemporary Chinese martial arts, because Japan had performed well on the battle field, and Chinese troops, by in large, had not (Miracle 2016).

Yet I doubt that Draeger was expecting to find real, unfiltered, free-style violence within the traditional dojo. One suspects that most of these vets, at least the ones who had actually seen combat, would have had enough of that on the beaches of the Pacific. What seems to have motivated many of these early students was not so much the search for “realism,” as it was the search for a “cultural essence.” Knowing the reality of warfare, one wonders whether they were freed from petty debates about the “reality of the octagon” (or its post-war equivalents).

Draeger threw himself into highly ritualized styles of Japanese swordsmanship not because he believed this was what a “scientific street fight” actually looked like.  He seems to have been looking for a deeper set of answers as to how men had achieved victory in combat in the past.  The answers were partially technical, but they also included more. Rightly or wrongly, it was clear to Draeger that (some) Japanese martial artists had the answers, while the Chinese did not. His friend and fellow researcher, R. W. Smith, came to a different set of conclusions after his own experiences with Chinese martial artist while living in Japan and Taiwan. Their martial arts research was not so much about expressing individualism in the abstract (though Draeger’s interests in body building did eventually take him in that direction), but understanding systems of social authority that had allowed individuals to do amazing things.

 

Bruce Lee Graffiti. Source: Wikimedia.

 

Conclusion: A Debate Between Readers

These duel excursus into the graphic arts and the early days of hoplology suggests how one group of readers may have approached Lee’s classic essay.  In larger cultural terms, Lee’s essay may be less daring than it first appears. While such discussions were novel in the small world of Western martial arts practice, art and culture critics had been making points very similar to Lee’s for decades. They had been doing that because activities that were structurally similar to the practice of the traditional martial arts had become increasingly common within American society since the early 1950s.  Lee is often portrayed as a radical or iconoclastic thinker, but when placed next to these critics his calls for individual expression and authenticity within the arts actually replicate the era’s elite social values. More radical, in some senses, were the voices that argued for primacy of craftmanship over art, or for a turn towards a foreign (even colonial) set of cultural values as a way of dealing with the malaise of modern life.

The issues being debated by the martial artists of the 1970s (and still today) are so fundamental that Lee’s essay was bound to generate disagreement.  The editors of Black Belt anticipated this. It may be worth reading Lee’s essay in comparison with the issue’s opening editorial on the importance of bowing and traditional etiquette, as well as its final article titled “The Legacy of the Dojo” by David Krieger (50). The first piece contains a quote by an anonymous Chinese martial artist (who may well be Bruce Lee himself as he often haunted the magazine’s offices) praising the efforts of Japanese martial artists to bring morality into their training halls while noting the often-disrespectful ways that Chinese students discussed their own teachers.  The two pieces, which both make oblique arguments for the acceptance of traditional modes of social authority within the Asian martial arts, seem to offer an intentional counterpoint to some of Lee’s more individualistic notes.

When we consider the larger social trends in post-war America, and read Lee’s essay in conjunction with the pieces that bookend the September 1971 issue, the parameters of the debate become clearer.  Then, as now, the martial arts could be seen either as a vehicle for understanding traditional modes of social authority, or as a means of breaking them down. Readers split on this issue, just as they still do today.  It is precisely this ongoing dialectic that allows the ostensibly “traditional” Asian martial arts to fill so many social roles in the modern Western world. This essay’s genius lies not in its ability to convince one side or the other, but in its ability to draw successive generations into the discussion.

 

*For the record, Kano Jigoro has my vote for the 20th century’s most influential martial artist.

 

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If you enjoyed this post you might also want to read: Explaining “Openness” and “Closure” in Kung Fu, Lightsaber Combat and Modern Martial Arts

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The Martial Arts Studies Reader: 2018’s Essential Book

 

 

An Essential Book

 

This is a time of year to sit back and reflect on our achievements and struggles.  I suspect that within the broader historical record 2018 will be remembered for its calamities.  Yet it has been a remarkable year for Martial Arts Studies.  And that is where my trouble begins. It is one thing to make lists of important events or news stories. It is quite another to name the most significant achievements within a quickly growing academic field.

In the past Kung Fu Tea’s New Year’s post has honored either the best blog or scholarly book on the martial arts. Given the avalanche of new publications, one suspects that this would be a good year to once again focus our attention on the best books.  And I have read quite a few excellent works.  I am even tempted to simply give the honor to Lauren Miller Griffith and Jonathan Marion’s Apprentice Pilgrimages: Developing Expertise Through Travel and Training (Lexington, 2018) as it provided a great ethnographic examination of the role of travel in martial arts practice. On a more personal note, it was also a fascinating explanation of why I seem to spend so much time in airports even though I am not particularly fond of flying.

Unfortunately, there are still several books that I have not read, and some that I am really looking forward to. I will try do better on that front in 2019 but, as it stands now, naming a “best book” seems a bit presumptuous.  Still, there was one publication that deserves special consideration. I can, without hesitation, name The Martial Arts Studies Reader (Cardiff UP) 2018’s most “essential” book. If you only read a single new book within the field, it should be this one.

Even that more limited pronouncement may raise suspicion.  Edited collections have never commanded the same prestige as single-authored monographs. They tend to tell the reader a great deal about where a field is at, but they typically do not to advance the high-stakes theoretical arguments that can actually shape a research area going forward. Some might accuse me of choosing an edited volume, which includes excellent chapters by many of my friends and colleagues, so that I would not have to go out on a limb and favor just one. And they would be absolutely correct! At least partially.

Fields are advanced when top scholars put out the sorts of books that tenure committees love.  But they also progress when a community of readers takes a long and reflective look at where we stand now.  What type of work are we producing in our field?  How did we even become a research field?  What set of needs or desires is Martial Arts Studies fulfilling within both the academy and the larger social discussion of these fighting systems?  And, most importantly, how do we ensure that a desire for this sort of work continues to grow in the future?

The Martial Arts Studies Reader can claim two great accomplishments. The first is that it provides a comprehensive collection of brief articles ideal for class room use. As Bowman and Morris observe in their concluding dialog, the desire for some activity (even the scholarly study of the martial arts) does not necessarily exist in some platonic state prior to anyone actually doing it.  Rather, we typically only develop a desire for something once we have been exposed to it, seen other people do it, and been asked to take part in it ourselves.  In fact, the story of Martial Arts Studies, as a field, is very much the story of how an ever-wider circle of readers and scholars have been drawn into a dialog with each other, catalyzed by a mutual attraction to these fighting systems.

Discussions of the state of our field often focus on theoretical discourses, conferences or important publications.  Yet the desire for any sort of academic discussion is typically born and nurtured in the classroom.  It was in the lecture hall that most of us chose our disciplines and research fields. And it will likely be in the class room that a new generation of undergraduates will be exposed to Martial Arts Studies and decide to pursue their own research on these topics in graduate school.  The creation of resources that can spark a desire for more scholarly investigations of the martial arts is in no way secondary, or “supplemental,” to the development of the field.  It is something that we should all strive to do.

Yet for readers who have already found a home within Martial Arts Studies, Paul Bowman’s edited volume does something else.  Through a broad survey that touches on many critical trends in the field, he asks us to consider what sort of field MAS has become?  What sort of academic and social work is it doing? Do we like the current direction? Indeed, his collection holds a remarkably clear and incisive mirror to the field’s face.

Each of these questions is important enough that it deserves an in-depth response of its own.  Yet rather than writing several separate posts, I think that a turn to the comparative method may begin to address these issues.  As important as this reader is, it is not the first edited volume on the academic study of the martial arts.  There have been quite a few important collections on this subject over the decades, probably due to the lack of journal outlets for research of the martial arts between the 1980s and 2000s.  One might even say that the desire for a larger, more independent, field of martial arts studies was born out of edited volumes which, by choice or necessity, brought together scholars from many disciplines, as well as independent researchers that who often approached these questions without any disciplinary commitments at all.

If we really wish to understand the significance of the Martial Arts Studies Reader, and what it suggests about the current state of the field, we need to place it side by side with these other collections and subject them all to a focused comparison.  In the interests of time I will restrict my own investigation to three other volumes. While hardly comprehensive, I have selected these works as I suspect that anyone who will buy the Martial Arts Studies Readerlikely owns them as well, suggesting that a meaningful exercise in comparative reading really is possible.

 

 

Honest question, what could be more masculine that Donn F. Draeger and Sean Connery together on the set of “You only Live Twice.” Lets call this Martial Arts Studies mark 1.

 

 

The Comparative Context

 

There is one critical, yet paradoxically unaddressed, question which haunts the modern field of Martial Arts Studies. At what point, and in what ways, has this exercise diverged from the older approaches to Hoplology, pioneered by William Burton, Donn F. Draeger and others?  Why has this effort (so far) succeeded when so many others failed to launch?

I am aware of a few researchers who refuse to admit that such a split has taken place and simply use the terms ‘Hoplology’ and ‘Martial Arts Studies’ interchangeably.  Yet if I had to note one specific instance that signaled the rise of something fresh and new it would be Green and Svinth’s 2003 edited collection, Martial Arts in the Modern World (Praeger).  Released a few years after Wile’s pioneering work on Taijiquan (SUNY, 1996) and Hurst’s efforts on the Armed Martial Arts of Japan (Yale UP, 1998), this collection signaled to readers both the vitality of these early efforts and the ability of scholarly discussions of the martial arts to move beyond traditional disciplinary and geographic boundaries.  Anthropological discussions were most meaningful when they were placed next to historical studies of events on a different continent, or sociological investigations of community formation.

It is somewhat telling that this volume was dedicated to “John F. Gilbey, who inadvertently showed us the way.”  Of course, Gilbey was the literary creation of Donn F. Draeger and R. W. Smith, the early pioneers of Hoplology. Frustrated by the seemingly endless gullibility (or perhaps orientalist longing) of North American readers who could not distinguish reliable truths from fantasy, these early researchers decided to get in on the act by publishing pseudo-biographical accounts of a fictional martial arts adventurer that read like an early draft for “the most interesting man in the world” advertisements mashed up with the spy-cartoon Archer.  Exactly what “direction” Gilbey showed anyone is left open to speculation, but he certainly fanned the same flames of cultural desire which had given him birth.

Yet what interests me the most about this collection is what does not appear within it.  A single pseudonymous dedication is the closest that Smith and Draeger come to substantive inclusion in this volume.  Smith’s unfortunate publication on the Secrets of Shaolin Temple Boxing gets a mention by Stanley Henning, who otherwise enjoyed his work with the caveats that one had to consider the “limitations” that the author was working under at the time.  Neither Smith nor Draeger are even listed in the index.  Nor does their highly empirical vision of hoplology, one based on the recovery, recording and comparison of technique, appear at all in the historically and socially focused volume curated by Green and Svinth.  The authors included in this collection came from both academic backgrounds and the more practical worlds of martial arts practice. Yet while acknowledging a debt of gratitude to Hoplology (or more precisely, it’s fantastic doppelganger), already by 2003 the desires of these authors was moving in a substantially different direction.

“Desire” may be the critical term when thinking about this volume’s place in evolution of our current field.  It spoke to, and fanned the flames of, a certain type of desire for community and communication.  And yet with the possible exception of a few articles this was not the desire for a new “interdisciplinary disciplinary academic field.”  Not exactly.  This was a book that appears to have been produced more for “the love of the game” than any sort of professional obligation. Only a couple of these authors had even came out of traditional university departments. In no way do I seek to impugn the quality of the work that was produced by pointing that out.  Scholarly investigations of the martial arts was clearly something that people desired, but it still remained secondary to disciplinary concerns, or the more serious business of actual practice.  Much like the afore mentioned Gilby, current readers might view this volume as a promise that pointed the way.

The situation seems to have been quite different in 2011 when Farrer and Whalen-Bridge published Martial Arts as Embodied Knowledge: Asian Traditions in a Transnational World (SUNY Press). It is striking to consider how differently scholarly studies of the martial arts are socially positioned within their volume. The introduction begins with the editors laying out the case for the existence of a new approach to Martial Arts Studies.  They explicitly address the contributions of Burton and Draeger (as well as modern students of Hoplology) before arguing that if progress is to be made in this new field we must de-centralize “how-to” studies in favor of “a more theoretically informed strategy grounded in serious contemporary scholarship that questions the practice of martial arts in their social, cultural, aesthetic, ideological, and transnational embodiment.” (p. 8) If one were to look for a simple constitution outlining the intellectual mandate and responsibilities of Martial Arts Studies, this paragraph would be an critical place to start.

Martial Arts as Embodied Knowledge remains among the better organized collections within the field of martial arts studies. The move towards a sustained engagement with academic theory meant that there was much less room for those without extensive scholarly training and a continual engagement with these discourses. As one reads through the list of contributors to this volume (all of whom were professional academics) one can only note that the professionalism that Draeger had hoped to achieve had finally arrived but, ironically, shut the door on Hoplology’s hopes of ever being the primary vehicle for the academic study of the martial arts.

Professionalization also brings with it the possibility of increasingly fruitful specialization.  This was reflected in the scope of Farrer and Whallen-Bridges collection.  Arranged in three sections the article sought to address “Embodied [and media] Fantasy,” ways in which the “Social Body Trains” and finally “Transnational Self-Construction.”  Each topic was approached from a variety of perspectives yielding one of the first truly interdisciplinary conversations within Martial Arts Studies. And all of these categories of investigating have remained central to martial arts studies today.

Garcia and Spencer’s 2013 Fighting Scholars: Habitus and Ethnographies of Martial Arts and Combat Sports (Anthem Press),demonstrated progress in different ways.  Rather than broadly surveying the sorts of work that could be done within an interdisciplinary field, it chose a single conceptual framework, the notions of habitus and carnal sociology as developed by Wacquant in his groundbreaking Body & Soul: Notebooks of an Apprentice Boxer. By design this was a narrower collection, but it was one that demonstrated that Martial Arts Studies was capable of engaging with (and in turn being engaged by) some of the most seminal thinkers of the day.

Where as Farrer and Whalen-Bridge had emphasized the professionalization of the field, Garcia and Spencer’s promoted the work of many younger and up and coming scholars. This choice illustrated the explosion of interest that had taken place in the decade since Green and Svinth’s 2003 volume, and foreshadowed the publishing boom that we see now.

Within our survey this volume is unique in its focus on a single conceptual framework and debate.  In that way it helped to establish the discourse on habitus and embodiment that has come to dominate much of the Martial Arts Studies literature.  Yet I have always felt that it also (often inadvertently) demonstrated the limits of this approach.  That was a point that Bowman would explicitly return to in the concluding discussion of the Martial Arts Studies Reader.  Fields are constructed just as much by debates over key concepts as agreements. Even the ability to identify weaknesses in certain contributions marks an important point of progress.

All of which returns us to Bowman’s own effort. The Martial Arts Studies Readeris, in many ways, a natural culmination of what has come before.  It is the fully realized fruit of the desire for community signaled by Martial Arts in the Modern World.  Like Martial Arts as Embodied Knowledgeit is a fully professionalized volume, and one that explicitly seeks a broad engagement with critical trends in recent scholarship.  Yet it also shows increasing sophistication in that its contributors seek not just to borrow from the disciplines, but to either contribute to their critical debates, or to move beyond them all together.  All of this is organized and curated in a collection ideally suited for survey courses on the growing field of Martial Arts Studies.

 

Martial arts studies conference group photograph (taken the closing day), July 1017 at Cardiff University. Martial Arts Studies Mark 2?

 

Concluding Thoughts

 

Comparing this work against the collections which have come before also allows us to ask some critical questions about the direction that martial arts studies is headed. To address one of Bowman’s earlier questions, this collection suggests that a research field emerges when a group of authors decide that it is more desirable to ask question of, and address their work to, scholars who write on the same subject from different disciplinary perspectives, as opposed to their colleagues in their own departments.  This is always a difficult move as it requires energy and creativity. Nor do our interdisciplinary interlocuters sit on our tenure, promotion or hiring committees.  Still, at some point either theoretical necessity or the search for intellectual community may inspire such a move.  Thus, a research field exists first and foremost as a social fact.  It is created when a certain density of communication is achieved, and it exists for as long as that is seen as desirable.

If we were to view the health of the field through this sort of lens, what does the Martial Arts Studies Readersuggest? As I reviewed the various chapters and read footnotes it became apparent to me that we are united not just through the magnetism of the martial arts, but by a general agreement upon (or at least a mutual interest in) certain approaches to them.  The essays in this volume are marked with an interest in identity, desire, media, community, communication and interpretation. What is shared between any set of chapters is often a reliance on a shared set of theorists who have addressed one or more of these topics, and thus provided a common conceptual or methodological lens.

What remains much less common is direct engagement, debate, or even creative borrowing between martial arts studies scholars. Bowman wonders in his concluding remarks if perhaps people give lip service to the importance of media-discourses and the like in their analysis before reverting back to their entrenched disciplinary habits.  It is an interesting point, but it may well be worth extending that question to include the entire social construct that is “Martial Arts Studies.”  To what degree are we reallygetting the most out of the contributions of our fellow scholars? Have we reached a point where we can build off of debates (or discoveries) that have already happened in the field?  Or is a core of shared concepts and methods being used to power a wide range of forever idiosyncratic research questions?

Put another way, if Martial Arts Studies is an independent research area, can we agree on what sorts of questions are important, or even how we might discover important questions in the field?  How do we see this reflected in the sorts of communications that authors have with each other?

These are difficult questions to answer.  I chose this collection as 2018’s essential volume as it represents perhaps the best image of the current state of the field that we are likely to get.  Yet an image can never be mistaken for the original thing. Simple editorial choices can skew the way that conversations appear.  Broad field surveys (such as this) are less likely to encourage meaningful dialogue between pieces than much more focused volumes (such as the one produced by Garcia and Spencer) precisely because we have asked scholars to show us the breadth of what might be done.

Then there is the issue of the medium.  Most scholarly monographs have a “theory chapter” which encourages both the author and the reader to explicitly consider the ways that a new work builds upon, is indebted to, and challenges its predecessors. Journal articles might get a few paragraphs to do the same thing.

The even tighter word-limits found in edited volumes require authors to get to their point even more quickly. That can certainly obscure much of the background that goes into any research project. In my own contribution to this volume I had to drop an extended engagement with the work of Meaghan Morris who had also addressed Victor Turner’s notion of liminoid symbols and transformation in the modern world.  Yet regardless of their limitations, field surveys always present us with an opportunity to assess where we personally have failed to engage with the literature, and what we might stand to gain by doing so.

So long as we are contemplating absences (always a tricky task as an infinite number of things could be said to be missing from any work), I would like to close this post with a final thought on Hoplology. If Green and Svinth’s 2003 volume marked a definitive turning away from the “how-to” salvage expeditions of an earlier era, and a move towards a vision of Martial Arts Studies that put their social and cultural functions first, where do we stand today?  Reading through this latest volume I think it is safe to say that the mandate that Farrer and Whalen-Bridge outlined in 2011 has now been fully realized.  Indeed, the older works of Draeger and Smith seem to have left no trace on this volume. While Bowman acknowledges that things like Martial Arts Studies have existed in different forms in the past, he provides no hint of what they might have been, or why they might have failed.

Still, my personal feeling is that many of the strongest chapters in this volume are those that are the most steeped in the empirical record.  I am drawn to instances where authors went out into the world and actually wrestled with the technical “how-to” questions because that was often where new puzzles, unimagined by prior theoretical debates, emerged.  The modern incarnation of Martial Arts Studies never seems to have time to discuss the details of what was actually done, and how it was actually learned.  Yet that is precisely the soil that many of the most interesting discussions emerge from.

So I am left to close this essay where I started it. What is the relationship between Martial Arts Studies and Hoplology?  As a truly academic field, the later no longer exists.  Yet on a deeper level, what is our personal debt to the “how-to” question?  Is there theoretical value in the seemingly simple act of documenting a system of practice? If the best minds of the modern Martial Arts Studies era were to recreate Hoplology, what would it be?

Martial Arts Studies can only grow as fast it replicates a desire for communication between its students.  A greater degree of engagement with the existing literature is always desirable.  But its growth is also linked to our ability to identify powerful and paradoxical questions that reflect the reality of our lived experience.  A fully realized “New Hoplology” might not be necessary to generate these questions, as fascinating as that project might be. Yet placing as much emphasis on the quality and documentation of our empirical research as we do on our theoretical analysis probably is.

 

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If you enjoyed this review you might also want to read: Striking Distance: Charles Russo Recounts the Rise of the Chinese Martial Arts in America

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THE INSIGHTS OF WU GONGZAO

太極拳講義
TAIJI BOXING EXPLAINED
著作者 吳公藻
by Wu Gongzao
校正者 吳公儀
text proofread by Wu Gongyi
[published by the 湖南國術訓練所 Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, June, 1935]

[translation by Paul Brennan, Dec, 2018]

吳公藻編
by Wu Gongzao:
太極拳講義
Taiji Boxing Explained
何鍵題
– calligraphy by He Jian

向愷然序
PREFACE BY XIANG KAIRAN [a dialogue]

客有致疑於太極拳者。曰。拳之為用。主搏人。四肢百骸。人所同具。欲操勝算。捨快與力奚由。故拳家有一快不破。一硬不破之言。乃今之言太極拳者。則曰。以不用力為體。以慢為用。得毋與拳之原理相悖謬乎。
A doubter of Taiji Boxing once said to me: “The main function of a boxing art is for fighting opponents. Four limbs and a body – it’s the same set-up for everyone. But if you want to win, why would you dispense with speed and strength? As boxing masters say: ‘unbeatable speed, unbreakable hardness’. But nowadays there are Taiji Boxing practitioners saying: ‘To put forth no exertion is the foundation, and in slowness lies the function.’ In relation to the other boxing principle, isn’t this a ludicrous statement?”

余曰。誠然。拳之為用。捨力與快無由。客將謂拳之快而多力者。有逾於太極拳者乎。
To this I said: “Yes indeed. There’s no reason to abandon strength and speed for the functionality of those other boxing arts. But are you suggesting that boxing practitioners with great speed and strength would defeat a Taiji boxer?”

客曰。吾習太極拳三年於茲矣。先晢嘗詔吾曰。一舉動週身俱要輕靈。用勁如抽絲。不可斷續。是云云者。非慢而不用力之謂乎。吾寢饋其中。無間寒燠。然嘗與里中之習他拳纔數月者角。輒敗退不知所以支吾之道。曩固疑其非搏人之術。茲益信其然矣。今吾子顧曰。拳之快而多力者。無逾此。願聞其說。
He then said: “I’ve now been practicing Taiji Boxing for three years. Previous masters explain to us: ‘Once there is any movement, your entire body should have lightness and nimbleness.’ ‘Move energy as if drawing silk.’ ‘Do not allow there to be breaks in the flow.’ Aren’t such statements saying that it’s slow and doesn’t use strength? I’ve obsessed over this even in my sleep and practiced constantly no matter what the weather’s like. Nevertheless, when I tried wrestling with a practitioner of another boxing art in my hometown, who had only been training for a few months, I was defeated, for I had no idea what to do. I then strongly suspected that this isn’t a fightworthy art and I’ve come to believe even more that this is the case. But now you instead say that boxing arts that are fast and strong do not surpass this one. I wish to hear your explanation.”

余曰。異哉子之所謂快與硬也。豈不以手之屈伸。足之進退為快。肌膚之粗糙。筋骨之堅實為硬乎。是屬於人類自然之本能。無關藝術之修養者也。且屈伸進退。為用甚簡。雖至迅。必有間。人得而乘焉。太極拳之為用。雖亦不離乎屈伸進退。然曲中求直。其象如圜。唯其圜也。為用不拘一方。猶之槍之為用。人知其在頴也。刀之為用。人知其在鋒也。非甚簡矣乎。若夫圜之為用。則無在無不在也。唯其用之無不在也。故一舉動週身俱要輕靈。庶幾無習於拳者。難於掌。習於臀者。難於足之病。其迅捷視他拳不可以數字計。拳經載。一處有一處虛實。處處總此一虛實。又謂。一動無有不動。一靜無有不靜。是可知其一舉動為用之繁賾矣。他拳鮮不用斷勁者。斷而復續。授隙於人。太極拳泯斷續之跡。用時隨在可斷。斷而復連。王宗岳謂粘卽是走。走卽是粘。人不知我。我獨知人。正是於此等處。用力久而後能臻於縝密。試思一舉動之為用遍週身。處處皆當詳審其虛實所在。則其形於外者。安得不慢乎。
I responded: “How strange. Isn’t what you’re saying about speed and hardness a matter of the speed of the arms bending and extending, of the feet advancing and retreating, and of the hardness of tough skin and muscle, of robust bone and sinew? These are natural human capacities, nothing to do with developed martial skill. For that matter, bending, extending, advancing, retreating are extremely simple actions, and no matter how fast they’re performed, they’ll surely leave a gap for the opponent to take advantage of. Although applications in Taiji Boxing don’t depart from bending, extending, advancing, retreating, they also have the quality of ‘within curving, seek to be straightening’, and is rounded in appearance. Because of its roundness, its functionality is unlimited.
  “Compare this to using a spear, which everyone knows is mainly a matter of using the spear tip, or to using a saber, which everyone knows is mainly a matter of using the saber edge. Are they not extremely simple? But the applicability of roundness reaches nowhere and everywhere, and thus it can function anywhere. Hence: ‘Once there is any movement, your entire body should have lightness and nimbleness.’ This frees you almost fully from the errors made by those who overtrain punching and so have difficulty striking with the palm, or those who overtrain striking with the hips and so have difficulty kicking.
  “The speed of this art thus can’t even be measured in the same way as for other boxing arts. It says in the classics: ‘In each part there is a part that is empty and a part that is full. Everywhere it is always like this, an emptiness and a fullness.’ Also: ‘If one part moves, every part moves, and if one part is still, every part is still.’ From this we can know that once there is any movement, its function will be complex and subtle.
  “Other boxing arts rarely do not employ an interrupted energy, stopping and then starting up again, leaving a gap for an opponent to exploit. In Taiji Boxing, there is no indication of any stopping and starting, because during application you can ‘disconnect but stay connected’. Wang Zongyue said: ‘In sticking there is yielding and in yielding there is sticking… He does not know me, only I know him.’ This is exactly the idea. After working at it for a long time, you’ll be able to achieve this quality even at a level of minute detail. Consider that ‘once there is any movement’, you’re using your entire body, examining for emptiness and fullness everywhere, so of course the outward appearance would seem slowed down.”

客曰。慢之道。得聞命矣。其以無力為多力之說。可得聞乎。
He then asked: “Having heard the theory of slowness, can I hear the explanation for no strength being great strength?”

余曰。拳術不貴力。而貴勁。不僅太極拳也。一切拳術。則皆然矣。夫人不患無力。特患其力之不能集中耳。力為人所恆有。世固無力之人。一臂之重十斤。能屈伸運動。則一臂具十斤之力矣。一身之重數十斤。未聞其足之不能自舉。則足具數十斤之力矣。此為天下至弱者之所同具。但以其為力而非勁也。不能集中一點。以傳達於敵人之身。故不足貴。習拳者。在使力化為勁。倘能以十斤之勁。集於手而中於人。人必傷。數十斤之勁。集於足而中於人。人必斃。則亦何患乎力之不多也。他拳之勢。掌則為掌。肘則為肘。顯然易知。然學者積久成習。尚多有麤疏木强。不能集中其勁以達於敵人者。病在知有力之為力。不知無力之為力也。握拳透爪。嚙齒穿齦。自視殊武健。而不知力因此已陷於肩背。徒為他人攻擊之藉。力雖大何補。太極拳之原則。在化力為勁。尤在能任意集中。用之則行。舍之則藏。無麤疏木强之弊。無屈伸斷續之跡。故經曰。無氣者純剛。是不用力也。非不用勁也。
I said: “Boxing arts do not value strength, but power. This is not only the case in Taiji Boxing, but in all boxing arts. A practitioner does not worry that he has no force, only that his force cannot be concentrated.
  “Strength is something everyone has, even those who hardly have any. An arm may weigh ten pounds. It can therefore move by bending and extending with the force of ten pounds. A body may weigh a hundred pounds. There is no one who can’t lift his own foot, therefore the leg acts with the force of a hundred pounds. Even the weakest people in the world have this much strength. But this is merely a matter of strength rather than power. It can’t be focused at a point and transmitted into the opponent’s body, therefore it’s not really worthwhile.
  “A boxing arts practitioner seeks to convert strength into power. If he can concentrate ten pounds of power into his hand and hit the opponent with it, the opponent is sure to be injured. If he can concentrate a hundred pounds of power into his foot and hit the opponent with it, the opponent is sure to be killed. So why would there be any worry about not having a lot of strength?
  “In the postures of other boxing arts, a palm strike is clearly a palm strike and an elbow strike is obviously an elbow strike. But the students form habits through long-term practice and end up maintaining a mindless stiffness, unable to concentrate power and send it into opponents. The error lies in treating strength as strength and not understanding how going without strength can be strength.
  “They clench their fists so hard that they look like talons protruding, and they clench their teeth so hard that they look like they’ll bite through their own faces. They imagine themselves to be replete with martial skill, but they don’t understand that their strength has become stuck in their shoulders and back, giving their opponents an opportunity to attack. So even with great strength, what help would it be?
  “The principle in Taiji Boxing is to convert strength into power, and particularly to be able to focus it as you please. When you apply it, it is in action. When not applying it, it is stored away. There are no errors of rough-edged stiffness, nor signs of bending and extending, stopping and starting. Therefore it says in the classics: ‘If you ignore the energy and let it take care of itself, there will be pure strength.’ So it is not a matter of putting forth exertion, but of applying power.”

客曰。誠如吾子之說。則吾三年來寢饋其中。未嘗不慢。未嘗用力。何為而不得一當也。
He said: “What you say rings true. But I’ve been completely absorbed in the training for three years, I’ve never rushed through the set, and I’ve never used any exertion. So why can’t I get it right?”

余曰。古人緣理以造勢。吾人應卽勢以明理。不知理而徒練勢。他拳且不可。况精深博大之太極拳乎。雖寢處其中三十年。亦何益也。
I said: “Previous generations made the postures according to principles, and so we should practice the postures in order to understand their principles. But if we don’t come to understand the principles and we’re just practicing the postures, we wouldn’t be able to succeed even in other boxing arts, much less in the case of deeply profound Taiji Boxing. Even if we put all our time into it over the course of thirty years, we’d get nothing out of it.”

客曰。然則如何而後可。
He asked: “That being the case, what should we do to succeed?”

余曰。練體、惟熟讀經論。力求體驗。練用、則玩索打手歌。及十三勢行功心解。斯亦可矣。
I answered: “To train foundation, you only have to study the classics and strive to experience what they discuss. To train function, specifically ponder the Playing Hands Song and Understanding How to Practice. By this means, you will succeed.”

客曰。是不待吾子之命。曩嘗從事於斯矣。論言、由着熟漸悟懂勁。由懂勁階及神明。吾日習幾三十遍。着法不為不熟矣。為時三年。用力不為不久矣。而豁然貫通之效不見。是以疑之。
He said: “Before you suggested it, I’d actually already studied them. The Treatise says: ‘Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies, and then from there you will work your way toward something miraculous. [But unless you practice a lot over a long time, you will never have a breakthrough.]’ Everyday I practice almost thirty rounds of the solo set, so the techniques can’t really be considered uningrained, and after three whole years, my great deal of practice can’t really be considered to have happened over a brief time. But I haven’t yet witnessed any results on the level of a ‘breakthrough’, and thus I’m in doubt.”

余曰。子之所謂着熟者。殆其形於外之進退周旋歟。若能心知其意。虛實分明。則勢愈練而意愈縝密。所謂行氣如九曲球。無微不至。則一身之四肢百骸。無在不可以蓄勁。無在不可以發勁。卽是隨處能走。隨處能粘。復安有敗退於學他拳纔數月者之理。
I said: “By ‘ingrained techniques’, do you mean outward postures such as advancing, retreating, turning around? If you’re to understand such actions in terms of intention, emptiness and fullness will be clearly distinguished, and then the more you practice the postures, the more meticulous your intention will become. It is said: ‘Move energy as though through a winding-path pearl, penetrating even the smallest nook.’ This means that the whole body, its four limbs and hundreds of bones, can store power in every part and issue power from any part. What this means is that you’re everywhere able to yield, everywhere able to stick. And then how would you be defeated through the principles of someone who has been studying some other boxing art for just a few months?”

客至是恍然若有所悟。曰。虛實無定時。無定位。以意為變化。於理則然矣。施之於事。每苦進退失據。甚且頂抗蠻觸於不自覺。雙重之病。有若天性使然。避之甚難。吾非不知病在虛實未分明也。觸覺未敏銳也。然有時明知其然。而法無可施者。其故亦別有在乎。
He seemed to arrive at a sudden realization and said: “As the timing or position is never certain when it comes to emptiness and fullness, the intention has to be on adapting. This principle makes sense. But whatever I try to do, I always advance or retreat in vain, even to the point that there’s a great deal of resistance in my touch and yet I’m not aware of it. The error of double pressure seems to be an inherent part of me, really difficult to avoid. It’s not that I don’t know that the error lies in not clearly distinguishing between emptiness and fullness, it’s that I don’t yet have a keen enough sensitivity to do it well. There are times when I know exactly what’s going on, but I can’t carry out any technique. So is there still some other problem?”

余曰。十三勢以中定為主。掤捋擠按十二勢為輔。有中定。然後有一切。一切勢皆不離乎中定。然後足以言應付。陳品三謂開闔虛實。卽為拳經。吾人應知無中定。安有開闔。譬之戶牖。開闔在樞。樞若動搖。云何開闔。不開不闔。虛實焉求。是可知無中定之虛實。非虛實也。無中定之觸覺。猶瞽之視。跛之履。觸如不觸。覺如不覺也。經曰。中正安舒。安舒云者。定之謂也。
I said: “Within the thirteen dynamics, being centered is the priority. The other twelve – warding off, rolling back, pressing, pushing, and so on – are just there to assist. If you have that quality of being centered, then you have everything. When none of your postures exist independent from centeredness, then you’ll be ready to talk about applying them. Chen Pinsan [Chen Xin] said: ‘Open and close, emptiness and fullness – these are the keys to the art.’ We should understand that when we don’t have centeredness, there’s no opening and closing.
  “For example, the opening and closing of a door depends upon its hinges. If a hinge slips into an awkward angle, will it open or close well? Without opening and closing, you won’t be able to seek emptiness and fullness. Thus you can understand that any emptiness or fullness you feel when not centered is neither emptiness nor fullness. Being without a sense of centeredness is like a blind man’s sight, a lame man’s steps, touching when without a sense of touch, perceiving when without ability to perceive. It says in the classics: ‘Your posture must be straight and comfortable.’ That word ‘comfortable’ is the indicator of being centered.”

客曰。求中定有道乎。
He then asked: “Is there a method for developing centeredness?”

余曰。子但知虛實無定時。無定位。以意為變化。而不知每一虛實。皆先有中定。而後有變化。處處有虛實。卽處處有中定。蓄法無定法。而一切法皆從中定中出。則聖人復起。不易吾言也。法遍周身。中定亦遍周身。然初學者。不足以語此。無已。則求左右開闔之樞。在脊。上下開闔之樞。在腰。先哲所謂力由脊發。所謂尾閭正中。所謂氣貼背斂入脊骨。所謂頂頭懸。皆明示其樞在脊也。所謂腰如車軸。所謂腰為纛。所謂命意源頭在腰際。所謂刻刻留心在腰間。所謂主宰於腰。皆明示其樞在腰也。學者先求得腰脊之中定。然後一切法。乃有中定。非然者。雖童而習之。以至於皓首。猶無益也。十三勢歌云。若不向此推求去。枉費工夫貽嘆息。鳴呼。昔賢悲憫之言。如聞其聲矣。
I said: “You merely understand that emptiness and fullness have no fixed moment or position, and your intention is to switch them, but you don’t understand that for every instance of emptiness and fullness, there first has to be centeredness in order to switch them. There’s everywhere an emptiness and a fullness, and so there’s everywhere a centeredness. Because the techniques are not fixed, every technique emerges from centeredness. Even if Zhang Sanfeng rose from the dead right now, he couldn’t alter this point.
  “The techniques involve the whole body, and centeredness also involves the whole body. But since beginners are not equipped to understand this, they ought to just confine themselves to seeking the mechanism of opening and closing to the left and right in the spine, and the mechanism of opening and closing above and below in the waist. The previous masters said: ‘Power comes from your spine.’ ‘Your tailbone is centered.’ ‘Energy stays near your back and gathers in your spine.’ ‘Your headtop will be pulled up as if suspended.’ These clearly indicate the pivot is in the spine. ‘Your waist is like an axle.’ ‘Your waist is a banner.’ ‘The command comes from your lower back.’ ‘At every moment, pay attention to your waist.’ ‘Direct it from your waist.’ These clearly indicate the pivot is in the waist.
  “If you first seek centeredness in your waist and spine, then every technique will have the quality of centeredness. If not, then even if you practice from youth to old age, it’ll seem like you’ve gotten nothing out of it. It says in the Thirteen Dynamics Song: ‘If you pay no heed to those ideas, you will go astray in your training, and you will find you have wasted your time and be left with only sighs of regret.’ Alas, these wistful words from the wise men of a previous generation do seem to go unheard.”

客聞而再拜曰。微吾子言。吾雖日讀經論。而不得間也。抑更有請者。經言氣宜鼓盪。論言。氣沉丹田。十三勢歌言。氣遍身軀不少滯。十三勢行功心解言。以心行氣。以氣運身。其言氣者多矣。究竟氣以何法使鼓盪。使沉丹田。使遍身軀。心、如何行氣。氣、如何運身。明知氣為此中肝要。然苦無下手處。且丹田在臍以下。今之生理學家。謂呼吸以肺不以腹。橫膈膜以下。非呼吸所能達。所謂腹部呼吸者。橫膈膜之運動而已。其將以何法使氣沉丹田。
Having heard this explanation, he politely said: “How profound your words are. Despite studying the classics daily, I still haven’t been able to understand their content, and so I have some more questions. It says in the Classic: ‘Energy should be roused.’ It says in the Treatise: ‘Energy sinks down to your elixir field.’ It says in the Thirteen Dynamics Song: ‘Then energy will flow through your whole body without getting stuck anywhere.’ It says in Understanding How to Practice: ‘Use mind to move energy… Use energy to move your body.’ The mentions of ‘energy’ are numerous. How exactly does one ‘rouse’ energy, or get it to sink to the elixir field, or flow through the whole body? And does mind move energy, or energy move the body?
  “Moreover, the ‘elixir field’ lies below the navel, but modern physiologists say that breathing uses the lungs rather than the abdomen. The diaphragm moves downward, but the breath is not able to reach that far. Therefore ‘abdominal breathing’ is just the movement of the diaphragm. So what method is there to get ‘energy’ to sink to the elixir field?”

余曰。善哉問乎。夫人捨呼吸外無氣。所謂氣沉丹田。卽意存丹田也。亦卽所謂腹內鬆淨氣騰然。刻刻留心在腰際也。習太極拳者。求每勢之開闔。勢勢存心。揆其用意。然後以呼吸附麗於開闔之中。呼為開。吸為闔。各勢中有手開闔。足開闔。身開闔。縱橫開闔。內外開闔。一開闔卽一呼吸。開闔所在。卽意所在。亦卽呼吸所在。習之旣久。自然氣遍周身。下手之功在呼吸。成就玄妙不思議之功。亦在呼吸。行功心解中。謂能呼吸。而後能靈活者。此也。
I said: “Good questions. Without breathing, there’s no energy. It is said: ‘Energy sinks down to your elixir field.’ This means that intention stays at your elixir field. It’s also said: ‘At every moment, pay attention to your waist, for if there is relaxation and stillness within your belly, energy is primed.’
  “Practitioners of Taiji Boxing seek for opening and closing within every posture. ‘In every movement, very deliberately control it by the use of intention.’ But within opening and closing, there’s breathing involved. Exhaling makes opening. Inhaling makes closing. Within every posture, there’s opening and closing in the arms, the legs, the body. There’s vertical and horizontal opening and closing, and internal and external opening and closing. A single ‘opening and closing’ means an exhaling and inhaling. Where there’s opening and closing, there’s intention, and there’s also exhaling and inhaling.
  “If you practice over a long time, there will naturally be energy flowing throughout your whole body. The work lies in the breathing, so achieving unimaginable skill also lies in the breathing. It says in Understanding How to Practice: ‘Your ability to be nimble lies in your ability to breathe.’ This is what that is talking about.”

客曰。讀太極拳經論者多矣。果能心領神會。事理無礙者。實未易多覯。吾子曷書適所論列者。以昭式來茲。或亦足為研習此道者解感之一助歟。
He said: “There are many who have read the Taiji Boxing classics, but few have understood their reasoning. Could you maybe make some commentary to these texts to make it clear for new students and help to better explain it for seasoned practitioners?”

余曰唯。
To which I said: “Hmm, I think maybe we just did.”

湖南國術訓練所太極拳教官吳雨亭君。能傳其父鑑泉先生之術。有聲於時。並為諸生編太極拳術講義。以視當世僅注圖解。毫無當於精義。或摭拾五行八卦與藝術無關之艱深易理諸著作。自有天壤之別。責序於余。余久悲此道之難有正知見也。與客適所論列。復為吳著所不詳。故書以歸之。是為序。
民國二十四年六月平江向愷然序於湖南國術訓練所
In the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute is the Taiji Boxing teacher Wu Yuting [Gongzao], who is able to pass down the art of his father, Wu Jianquan, and has also built his own reputation. He has written Taiji Boxing Explained in order to share information with this generation, a generation which has overly focused on images and hardly at all on essential concepts. Some people have merely drawn theories from the five elements and eight trigrams, and others have written strained interpretations of how the techniques are associated with the theory in the Book of Changes even though they are actually worlds apart. Wu demanded a preface of me, as I myself have long been troubled by how difficult it is to see this art getting understood properly. Fittingly, I happened to have a conversation with someone that contributed a few extra details which Wu’s writings have not covered, and so I wrote it down and am giving it to him as my preface.
  - written by Xiang Kairan of Pingjiang, at the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, June, 1935

自序
AUTHOR’S PREFACE

拳術一道。不外强健筋骨。調和氣血。而太極拳。乃循太極動靜之理以為法。採虛實變化之妙而為用。動靜者、行意之本源。虛實者、運勁之基礎。蘊之於內者曰勁。以為體。形之於外者曰勢、以為用。以靜制動。動中求靜。以柔尅剛。剛以濟柔。逆來順受。純任自然。蓋由於感覺使然。感之於身。覺之於心。身有所感。心有所覺。聽其虛實。問其動靜。得其重心。然後審己量敵。運用機勢。變換虛實。攻而取之。經云。斯技旁門甚多。槪不外有力打無力。又曰。察四兩撥千斤之句。顯非力勝。夫有力打無力。斯乃先天自然之能。生而知之。非學而後能之。所謂四兩撥千斤者。實則合乎權衡之理。無論體之輕重。力之大小。能在一動之間。移其重心。使之全身牽動。故太極拳之動作。所以異於他技者。非務以力勝人也。推而進之。不惟强筋健骨。調和氣血。而自能修養身心。却病延年。為後天養生之妙道焉。
近年來當道諸公。提倡國術不遺餘力。用以振發民族。尚武精神。引起國人之注意。而一般行政機關。及學校法團。尤注重於太極拳。風行所至。幾遍全國。以其動作緩和。吻合生理。雖老少童婦。習之咸宜。蓋無妨於體質也。
公藻於民國二十二年隨褚民誼先生來湘觀光國術。承主席何公之邀。擔任湖南國術訓練所太極拳教官。駒光易逝。倐忽三載。間嘗以我國數千年來。關於國術一道。競以門戶相尚。師弟相承。互為守秘。無籍可稽。漸至淹没。終於失傳。殊堪痛惜。誠武道之大不幸也。近世志士。鑒於外侮日迫。民氣消沉。痛往昔之錯謬。倡為國術救國。各有消滅門戶惡習之見解。著作專書。梓行於世。闡揚各個門派之真精神。俾人人得有公開研究機會。公藻祖傳斯道。三世於茲。家父傳人最多。入室弟子。如褚民誼、徐致一、王志羣、馬岳樑、吳圖南輩。各有著述刋行。吾道光明。實不後人。公藻頻年教學相長。常以經驗所得。筆之於書。管窺蠡測。未敢公諸大雅。蓋亦藏拙之意耳。客歲何公。復聘家兄子鎭。任本所太極拳主教。三湘人士。慕斯道者。步趨益衆。而秘書向愷然先生。為吾道同志。造詣頗深。鑒於所中學子。習太極拳者。苦無成文法理。可以觀摩。督公藻編纂太極拳講義一書。義不容辭。爰將舊作重新整理。分為上下二篇。俾從學諸生有所準繩。卽他日公藻去湘。人手一篇。亦有按圖索驥之便矣。
公藻不敏。習斯道二十餘年。徒以東西飄泊。粗無成就。旣愧綘灌無文。復悵隨陸不武。茲書之出。難免掛一漏萬。深望吾道同志。博雅君子。摘我瑕疵。匡我不逮。拋磚引玉。惠我珠璣。不獨公藻之幸。亦吾道之光也。
民國廿四年六月北京吳公藻序於湖南國術訓練所
Boxing arts are little more than a means of strengthening sinews and bone, and regulating breath and blood. But Taiji Boxing takes the taiji [“grand polarity”] concept of movement/stillness for its method and the subtle transformations of emptiness/fullness for its function. Movement and stillness form the framework for the actions of intention. Emptiness and fullness form the basis of expressing power. What is stored within is “power”. It provides the foundation. The external shape is the “posture”. It provides the function.
  Use stillness to control movement, and within movement seek to find stillness. Use softness to overcome hardness, and use hardness to assist softness. Receive whatever comes at you, responding to it with a pure naturalness. It all comes down to sensitivity, which is comprised of feeling with the body and perceiving with the mind: what is felt by the body is then perceived by the mind. Listen for the opponent’s emptiness and fullness, inquire into his movement and stillness, and find his center of balance. Then assess yourself and estimate him, making use of timing and positioning, switch emptiness and fullness, attack, and win.
  It says in the Classic: “There are many other schools of boxing arts besides this one… They generally do not go beyond the strong bullying the weak.” And also: “Examine the phrase ‘four ounces deflects a thousand pounds’, which is clearly not a victory obtained through strength… The strong beating the weak is a matter of inherent natural ability and bears no relation to skill that is learned.” Innate knowledge is not learned ability. The concept of “four ounces deflects a thousand pounds” conforms to the principle of the counterpoise weight being slid along a steelyard scale. Regardless of the weight of the opponent’s body or the extent of his strength, you can with one little movement shift his center of balance, causing it to affect his whole body.
  Therefore the movements in Taiji Boxing are different from those in other arts because it does not rely on using strength to defeat opponents. Furthermore, this art is not only a means of strengthening sinews and bone, of regulating breath and blood, but is inherently equipped for cultivating body and mind, for preventing illness and prolonging life, and is thus a marvelous method of nurturing health.
  In recent years, those in government have been doing their utmost to promote Chinese martial arts in order the rouse the people’s martial spirit. To draw the attention of our countrymen, ordinary administrative bodies and educational institutions have given particular focus to Taiji Boxing, which has become popular throughout the nation. Because its mild movements conform to physiological principles, it is suitable for all to practice – young and old, women and children – regardless of physique.
  In 1933, I went with Chu Minyi to observe the state of martial arts in Hunan. I was subsequently appointed to the position of Taiji Boxing instructor at the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, at the invitation of He Jian [governor of Hunan, who also oversaw the staffing of the Institute], and these past three years have raced by.
  Throughout our nation’s several thousand years of history, our martial arts have existed in a state of competition. Though styles respected each other, they passed their arts down only to disciples and otherwise kept their teachings secret from each other, and thus they made no books that could be examined. The result of this is that most of these arts gradually faded away until they were ultimately lost forever. This is unbearably tragic. Truly our martial ways have been greatly unfortunate.
  But now men of integrity have seen that the threat of foreign aggression is increasing by the day and that the morale of the people has plummeted. Bitter about the mistakes of the past, they have decided to promote our martial arts in order to rescue the nation. Whatever is left of these lost arts is being published in specialized manuals to spread the authentic spirit of the various styles and share with everyone the opportunity to study them.
  I received my art as a family transmission, passed down through three generations, mostly from father to son. Among my father’s other students are Chu Minyi, Xu Zhiyi, Wang Zhiqun [Runsheng], Ma Yueliang, and Wu Tunan, who have each published writings which gloriously illuminate our art. I have not actually been lagging behind them. Over the years, I have learned a great deal from teaching the art, and I too have often written down what I have gained through experience. It is just that I had never yet dared to show my shallow understandings to such refined gentlemen and instead decided to hide my inadequate attempts.
  Last year, He Jian appointed my elder brother Zizhen [Gongyi] to be the head Taiji Boxing instructor for the school. The people of Hunan so admired this art that students have swelled in number. But Xiang Kairan, who has been serving as the school secretary and is my comrade in this art, in which he is highly accomplished, noticed that the students were suffering from having no written theory to study alongside their training. Thus I was told to make a book explaining Taiji Boxing. Accepting this as a duty, I then made a fresh arrangement of my old scribblings, intending to divide it into two volumes, in order for students to have some criteria to work from, and so that someday when I depart from Hunan they will be able to simply pick up the book and use it to find their way.
  I am not terribly bright. I have been practicing this art for more than twenty years, and after traveling from place to place with it, I am still at a rather crude level, and [quoting from Chu Dawen’s Gazetteer of Shanxi, book 61] “I am ashamed that I have conquered no lands nor made any literary achievements”. When this book comes out, it will probably have more things wrong than right, and so I sincerely hope that my more scholarly martial arts comrades will seize upon my errors and not hold back from offering corrections. I am “tossing out a brick to draw forth jade”, so please favor me with your gems. It would not only be a blessing to me, it would also make the art shine brighter.
  - written by Wu Gongzao of Beijing, at the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, June, 1935

吳鑑泉先生肖像
Portrait of Wu Jianquan:

校正者吳公儀
Proofreader, Wu Gongyi:

著者吳公藻
Author, Wu Gongzao:

太極拳講義
TAIJI BOXING EXPLAINED
吴公藻編
by Wu Gongzao

總論
[ONE] GENERAL INTRODUCTION

拳術一道。不外强健筋骨。調和氣血。修養身心。却病延年。實為後天養生之術。太極拳。乃循太極動靜之理以為法。採虛實變化之妙而為用。其姿勢也中正安舒。其動作也輕靈圓活。故一動無有不動。一靜無有不靜。其動靜之理。與道家之坐功。互相吻合。實道家之行功。在拳理言之故稱內家。因與道本為一體。老幼婦孺。均可練習。其功用純任自然。學之毫無痛苦。誠有益無害之運動也。苟能精勤研究。歷久不懈。則愈練愈精。愈精愈微。由微入妙。由妙入神。不但有益於身心。更能增進智慧。獲益殊非淺尠也。
Boxing arts are little more than a means of strengthening sinews and bone, and regulating breath and blood. But an art which cultivates body and mind, which prevents illness and prolongs life, would be an even better method for nurturing health. For that there is Taiji Boxing, which takes the taiji concept of movement/stillness for its method and the subtle transformations of emptiness/fullness for its function.
  The postures are centered and upright, calm and comfortable. The movements are light and sensitive, rounded and lively. It is said: “If one part moves, every part moves, and if one part is still, every part is still.” This principle of movement conforms to Daoist sitting meditation, or rather to Daoist moving meditation. The boxing theory is deemed to be of the “internal school” because it shares the same philosophical foundation as Daoism. It can be practiced by everyone – young and old, women and children – because it is performed with a pure naturalness, the student enduring no pains at all. It is truly an exercise that has only benefits and no harms.
  If you can study it devotedly, committing to it for a long time without slacking, then the more you practice, the more refined your skill will be. The more it is refined, the more subtle it becomes, until it goes from subtle to incredible, from incredible to magical. It will not only be helpful to both body and mind, for it can also increase wisdom, and thus its benefits are by no means meager.

太極拳十三勢大義
[TWO] THE BASIC MEANING OF TAIJI BOXING’S THIRTEEN DYNAMICS

十三勢者。按五行八卦原理。卽推手之十三種總勁。非另有十三個姿勢。五行者。卽進,退,顧,盼,定,之謂。分為內外兩解。行於外者。卽前進,後退,左顧,右盼,中定,行於內者。卽粘,連,黏,隨,不丢頂。八卦者。亦分內外兩解。行於外者。卽四正,四隅,蘊於內者。卽掤,捋,擠,按,採,挒,肘,靠,八法也。行於外者為勢。蘊於內者為勁。學者以拳為體。以推手為用。經曰。其根在脚。發於腿。主宰於腰。形於手指。實為太極拳之精義。學者不可不留意焉。
The thirteen dynamics are based on the principles of the five elements and eight trigrams. They are the thirteen kinds of energy in pushing hands, not thirteen specific postures. There are two versions of the five elements – internal and external. Externally, they are advancing, retreating, stepping to the left, stepping to the right, and staying in the center. Internally, they are the qualities of sticking, connecting, adhering, following, and neither coming away nor crashing in. The eight trigrams also have internal and external versions. Externally, they are four cardinal directions and four corner directions. Internally, they are the eight actions of warding off, rolling back, pressing, pushing, plucking, rending, elbowing, and bumping. They are expressed outwardly as postures, but dwell within as energies. Treat the solo set as the foundation, the pushing hands exercise as the function. It says in the classics: “Starting from your foot, issue through your leg, directing it at your waist, and expressing it at your fingers.” These energies form the very essence of Taiji Boxing. You must devote attention to them.

五行要義詳解
[THREE] THE FIVE ELEMENTS EXPLAINED IN DETAIL

五行者。金,木,水,火,土也。五行之勁。曰粘,連,黏,隨,不丢頂。茲將各勁詳解於後。
The five elements are metal, wood, water, fire, earth. The energies of the five elements are sticking, connecting, adhering, following, and neither coming away nor crashing in. Each of these energies is explained in detail below:

(一)粘者。如兩物互交粘之使起。在太極拳語中謂之勁。此勁非直接粘起。實間接而生。含有勁意雙兼兩義。如推手或交手時。對方體質强大。力氣充實。椿步穩固。似難使其掀動。或移其重心。然以粘勁。能使其自動失中。用意探之。使其氣騰。全神上注。則其體重而足輕。其根自斷。此卽彼之反動力所致。吾則順勢撤手。而以不丢不頂之勁。引彼懸空。是謂粘勁。
夫勁如粘球。一撫一提之間。運用純熟。球不離手。粘之卽起。所謂粘卽是走。走卽是粘之謂也。
意者。設想之謂。以虛實之理。使敵出其不意。攻其不備。對方雖實力充足。據險以守。不畏攻擊。不畏力敵。然最忌誘敵。吾若以利誘之。使其棄守為攻。實力分散。吾則分而擊之。是誘而殺之。亦其自取敗亡。所謂攻其所不守。守其所不攻之道也。學者務須時時體會。久而自驗。
1. Sticking is like two objects becoming stuck together. It is referred to in Taiji Boxing as an “energy” because it is an indirect rather than a literal form of sticking. Within it are the two concepts of energy and intention. During pushing hands or sparring, if the opponent’s physique is large and powerful, he is full of strength, and his stance is stable, it will seem difficult to move him or even affect his balance. But by using sticking energy, you can cause him to lose his center by himself. Test him by using intention, causing his energy to become agitated and all of his spirit to concentrate upward, with the result that his body may be heavy but his feet will become light, and he will break his own root. This is caused by his own reaction, and so you can simply go along with it and allow it to happen, using the energy of neither coming away nor crashing in to lead him into emptiness. This is the energy of sticking.
  This energy is like a sticking to a ball. [Imagine dribbling a basketball.] Give it a pat and then lift your hand. If this is done right, the ball will seem to not lose contact, sticking to your hand as you lift it. This is what is meant by “sticking is yielding and yielding is sticking”. “Intention” means imaginatively using the principle of emptiness and fullness in order to catch the opponent off guard and attack him unprepared. Even if he is very strong, is in a solid defensive position, is not worried about being attacked, or about how strong you may be, he is nevertheless very wary of been lured into a trap. If you entice him with the promise of some advantage, it causes him to abandon his defensive position in order to attack, scattering his strength and enabling you to attack him in some area where he is now reduced. In this way, you trick him into fighting, and thereby he defeats himself. This is the principle of “attack where he does not defend and defend where he does not attack”. You have to constantly work to understand this, and then after a long time, you will naturally get it through experience.

(二)連者。貫也。不中斷。不脫離。接續聯綿。無停無止。無息無休。是為連勁。
2. Connecting means “linking together”. Do not interrupt the movement or come out of synch with it. Let it be continuous, without any pauses or haltings. This is the energy of connecting.

(三)黏者。粘貼之謂。彼進我退。彼退我進。彼浮我隨。彼沉我鬆。丢之不開。投之不脫。如粘如貼。不丢不頂。是謂之黏勁。
3. To adhere means to “be glued”. As he advances, retreat. As he retreats, advance. When he is floating, follow. When he is sinking, loosen. He tries to disconnect but cannot come away. He tries to cast you off but cannot escape. Stick as though glued to him, neither coming away nor crashing in. This is the energy of adhering.

(四)隨者。從也。緩急相隨。進退相依。不卽不離。不先不後。捨己從人。是謂之隨。
4. Following means to “go along with”. Match the opponent’s speed. Coordinate with his advancing and retreating, neither overreaching nor separating. Without acting before or after, let go of yourself and go along with him. This is the energy of following.

(五)不丢頂。丢者開也。頂者抵也。不脫離。不抵抗。不搶先。不落後。五行之源。輕靈之本。是為不丢頂勁。
5. Neither come away nor crash in. Coming away means separating. Crashing in means resisting. Neither separate nor resist. Do not force your way ahead nor lag behind. The key to the rest of the five elements, and the basis of sensitivity, is the energy of neither coming away nor crashing in.

八法祕訣
[FOUR] SECRETS OF THE EIGHT TECHNIQUES

掤勁義何解。如水負行舟。先實丹田氣。次要頂頭懸。全體彈簧力。開合一定間。任有千斤重。飄浮亦不難。
What is meant by “warding off”?
It is like water floating a moving boat.
First fill your elixir field with energy,
then you must suspend your headtop.
Your whole body has a springy force
in the instant between opening and closing.
Do not worry about a thousand pounds of force coming at you.
Just float it and there will be no problem.

捋勁義何解。引導使之前。順其來時力。輕靈不丢頂。力盡自然空。丢擊任自然。重心自維持。莫被他人乘。
What is meant by “rolling back”?
Induce the opponent to come forward.
Then go along with his incoming force,
but staying nimble, neither coming away nor crashing in.
Once his power has naturally dissipated,
then you may disconnect and attack as you please.
Maintain your own balance
so that you do not instead become his victim.

擠勁義何解。用時有兩方。直接單純意。迎合一動中。間接反應力。如球撞壁還。又如錢投鼓。躍然聲鏗鏘。
What is meant by “pressing”?
There are two ways to apply it.
You may act directly from your own clear intention,
dealing with him in a single action.
Or you may act indirectly, reacting to his force,
which will make him like a ball bouncing off a wall,
or like a coin tossed onto a drum
that then leaps away with a chiming sound.

按勁義何解。運用似水行。柔中寓剛强。急流勢難當。遇高則澎滿。逢窪向下潛。波浪有起伏。有孔無不入。
What is meant by “pushing”?
It is like flowing water.
Within its softness lurks hardness.
Is it not difficult to stay up when standing in rapids?
Meeting a tall obstacle, water swells up heavily.
Finding a hole, it floods down into it.
Waves rise and fall.
There is no gap that water does not enter.

採勁義何解。如權之引衡。任你力巨細。權後知輕重。轉移祗四兩。千斤亦可平。若問理何在。幹捍之作用。
What is meant by “plucking”?
It is like the counterpoise of a steelyard scale sliding out to balance something.
No matter how great or small the opponent’s force is,
you will know the weight of it once it is balanced.
Even the shifting of a mere four ounces
can balance out a thousand pounds.
What is the theory behind this?
That of the lever.

挒勁義何解。旋轉若飛輪。投物於其上。脫然擲丈尋。君不見漩渦。捲浪若螺紋。落葉墮其上。倐爾便沉淪。
What is meant by “rending”?
It rotates like a flywheel.
Throw an object at it
and it will immediately be hurled over ten feet away.
Have you ever watched a whirlpool?
The waves curl in like the threads around a screw.
Any leaf that falls onto it
is quickly engulfed.

肘勁義何解。方法有五行。陰陽分上下。虛實須辨淸。連環勢莫擋。開花捶更凶。六勁融通後。運用始無窮。
What is meant by “elbowing”?
The technique contains the five elements.
The passive and active aspects will be revealed above and below.
Emptiness and fullness have to be clearly distinguished.
Continuous techniques are harder to defend against.
A “blooming-flower punch” [i.e. a backfist unfurling out of a stopped elbow attack] is even more brutal [than the prevented elbow would have been on its own].
Once your “six energies” [of structure (supporting forward and back, left and right, up and down)] are unified,
you will be able to apply endless techniques.

靠勁義何解。其法分肩背。斜飛勢用肩。肩中還有背。一旦得機勢。轟然如搗碓。仔細維重心。失中徒無功。
What is meant by “bumping”?
The technique divides into using the shoulder or the back.
The DIAGONAL FLYING POSTURE uses the shoulder,
but when using your shoulder, you can also continue into using your back.
If suddenly you have the opportunity,
crash into him as though you are collapsing onto him.
But be very mindful about maintaining your balance,
for if you lose it, you will have wasted your effort.

慢與不用力之解釋
[FIVE] EXPLAINING WHY THE ART IS DONE SLOWLY AND WITHOUT EXERTION

太極拳慢而無力。學者多懷疑之。或謂不能用。徒能鍛鍊身體。蓋練拳之道。首宜研究學理。學理瞭然。再學方法。方法精熟。始能應用。非拳術之不能應用。實功夫之尚未練到耳。如鍊鋼然。由生鐵。而鍊成熟鐵。由熟鐵。而鍊成純鋼。非經過長時間之火候不為功。夫太極拳之所以由慢而成者。其練習時間。純任自然。不尚力氣。而尚用意。用力則笨。用氣則滯。是以沉氣鬆力為要。太極拳。以靜制動。以柔制剛。無中生有。有若無。實若虛。逆來順受。不丢不頂。均係虛實之變化也。慢者緩也。慢所以靜。靜所以守。守之謂定。此卽心氣之中定也。心定而後靜。靜而後神安。神安而後氣沉。氣沉而後精神團聚。乃能聚精會神。一氣貫通。慢由於心細。心細則神淸。神淸則氣爽。乃無氣滯之弊。快由於心粗。心粗由於急。急則氣浮。氣浮不沉。心急不靜。不沉不靜。心無所守。則散亂之病生。虛靈二字。更無由求。以靜制動。以柔制剛者。由於感覺使然。故其拳架係鍛鍊身心以為體。功夫出自推手而為用。推手之初步。專在摩練感覺。身有所感。心有所覺。感應精微。致用無窮。故能知己知彼。其滋味則心領神會。非筆墨所能形容。其變化之無窮。皆由感覺之靈敏。故能知其虛實。而便利從心。此慢與不用力之義也。
Because Taiji Boxing is performed slowly and without exertion, students often doubt it. Or they will say that it cannot be applied and is only good for training the body. To train in the ways of this art, you should start with the principles. Once the principles are understood, then learn the techniques. Once you are skillful with the techniques, you will then be able to apply the art. It is not that the art is not applicable, it is just that skill has not yet been trained. It is like the process of steelmaking. First pig iron is smelted to produce wrought iron, then wrought iron is further smelted to make pure steel. If you do not go through a similar process of “cooking” yourself with the training over a long period, you will not develop any skill.
  Taiji Boxing is done slowly because there has to be a pure naturalness while practicing. Do not rely on strength and vigor, instead make use of intention. Using strength will only make you clumsier. Using vigor will only end up making your movements sluggish. Therefore you should sink your energy and relax your strength. Taiji Boxing uses stillness to control movement, softness to control hardness. There is a something that arises from nothing, a something that still seems to be nothing, a fullness that seems to be empty. Go along with whatever comes at you, neither coming away from it nor crashing into it. This has to do with the alternations between emptiness and fullness.
  By “slow” is meant leisurely. By moving slowly, you will have a sense of stillness, which will lead to a sense of maintaining your state, which is called “stability”. This is the centered stability of mind and energy. Once your mind is stable, there is quietude. Once there is quietude, your spirit is calm. Once your spirit is calm, then energy sinks. With your energy sinking, then essence and spirit gather and unite. Able to concentrate essence and spirit, there will be a single flow running through the movement.
  Slowness comes from being meticulous. With that level of careful attention, your spirit will be clear. Once your spirit is clear, your energy will be clean, and thereby free of the error of sluggishness. Moving fast comes from being careless. Carelessness comes from being in a hurry. When your mind is in a hurry, your energy will be floating rather than sinking. With your mind in a hurry and your energy not sinking, there will be no sense of stillness and you will be unable to maintain stability, which will then generate the error of panic, and there will be no longer be a way to operate from a state of naturalness.
  Using stillness to control movement and using softness to control hardness depend on sensitivity. The foundation of the art lies in the training of body and mind that occurs through doing the solo set, but the function lies in the skill that comes from doing pushing hands. In the beginning of learning pushing hands, focus on developing sensitivity. Body feels, mind perceives. Once your responses to what you sense are refined and subtle, applicability will be limitless, and you will truly be able to know both self and opponent. (This is an experience that will be understood instinctively and is not really something that can be put into words.) The limitlessness of adaptability comes from the acuteness of one’s sensitivity. Therefore if you can know where your opponent is empty and full, you will easily be able to do as you please. This is the significance of slowness and not using exertion.

中定
[SIX] CENTERED STABILITY

伸屈開合之未發謂之中。寂然不動謂之定。心氣淸和。精神貫頂。不偏不倚。是為中定之氣。亦道之本也。
Before you have expressed any extending or bending, opening or closing, you are in a state of being centered. When you are [quoting from part 10 of the commentary section of the Book of Changes:] “[without thought, without action,] silent and still”, you are in a state of stability. When your mind is clear and your energy is harmonious, spirit is coursing through to your headtop, and you are not leaning in any direction, this is the state of “centered stability”, which also happens to be the whole foundation of the art.

虛領頂勁
[SEVEN] FORCELESSLY PRESS UP YOUR HEADTOP

頂勁者。卽頂頭懸。頭頂正直。腹內鬆淨。氣沉丹田。精神貫頂。如不倒翁。上輕下沉。又如水中浮瓢。漂然不沒之意。歌曰。
To “press up your headtop” means that your “headtop is pulled up as if suspended”. With your headtop upright, your belly can be completely relaxed. Energy will sink to your elixir field and spirit will course through to your headtop. You will be like a round-bottomed doll, light above, heavy below, or like a buoy that stays afloat on the water rather than vanishing under the surface. Here is a poem on the subject:

神淸氣沉任自然。漂漂盪盪浪裏攢。憑你風浪來推打。上輕下沉不倒顚。
With your mind clear and your energy sinking, you will move with naturalness,
despite being buffeted by winds and waves.
No matter what difficulties push and punch at you,
you will remain light above and heavy below, and thus you will not be toppled over.

感覺
[EIGHT] SENSITIVITY

身有所感。心有所覺。有感必有應。一切動靜皆為感。感則必有應。所應復為感。所感復有應。所以互生不已。感通之理。精義入微。以致用也。推手初步。專在摩練感覺。感覺靈敏。則變化精微。所以無窮也。
When your body feels something, your mind then perceives it, and thus whenever you have any sensation, it will cause you to react to it. At every moment, whether you are in a state of movement or stillness, there will be something to feel, and therefore there will also be something to react to. Your response will create new sensations, and those sensations will in turn produce new responses, and in this way they give rise to each other ceaselessly. The concept of sensing what is going on is essential for being able to apply techniques. In the beginning of training in pushing hands, focus on developing sensitivity. Once your sensitivity is acute, your adaptability will be profound, and then you will have no limitations.

聽勁
[NINE] LISTENING TO ENERGY

聽之謂權。卽權其輕重也。在推手為偵察敵情。聽之於心。凝之於耳。行之於氣。運之於手。所謂以心行意。以意行氣。以氣運身。聽而後發。聽勁要準確靈敏。隨其伸。就其屈。乃能進退自如。
To “listen” means to weigh, as in assessing whether the opponent is being light or heavy. Listening in pushing hands is like the scout who reconnoiters the enemy’s situation. Listening lies in your mind, whereas focusing your attention is what is carried out by your ears. Moving lies with your energy, whereas wielding techniques is what is carried out by your hands. It is said: “Use the mind to move intention. Use intention to move energy. Use energy to move the body.” Therefore listen first and then issue. When listening to energy, you have to have accuracy and sensitivity. Go along with the opponent’s extending, then move in toward his bending. Thus you will be able to advance and retreat smoothly.

問答
[TEN] ASKING & ANSWERING

我有所問。彼有所答。一問一答。則生動靜。旣有動靜。虛實分明。在推手則以意探之。以勁問之。俟其答復。再聽其虛實。若問而不答。則可進而擊之。若有所答。則須聽其動靜之緩急。及進退之方向。始能辨其虛實也。
I “ask” for information. The opponent supplies the answer. Each exchange of asking and answering will spark movement or stillness. Once there is any kind of movement, emptiness and fullness will become distinct. While pushing hands, use intention to probe the situation and use energy to ask the opponent what he is doing. Await his answer, listening for where he is empty and full. If you ask and there is no answer, then you can advance and attack. If there is an answer, then you must listen for the speed of his movement and the direction of his advance or retreat in order to be able to distinguish where he is empty and full.

虛實
[ELEVEN] EMPTINESS & FULLNESS

兵不厭詐。以計勝人也。計者虛實之謂。拳術亦然。姿勢,動作,用意,運勁。各有虛實。知虛實而善利用。雖虛為實。雖實猶虛。以實擊虛。避實擊虛。指上打下。聲東擊西。或先重而後輕。或先輕而後重。隱現無常。沉浮不定。使敵不知吾之虛實。而吾處處求敵之虛實。彼實則避之。彼虛則擊之。隨機應變。聽其勁。觀其動。得其機。攻其勢。如醫者視病而投藥。必先診其脈。觀其色。察其聲。問其症。故曰。虛實宜分淸楚。一處自有一處虛實。處處總此一虛實也。
Armies do not mind cheating [“All’s fair in war.”] and will use strategies to defeat the enemy. Such tricks are what is meant by “emptiness and fullness”. [In fact the sixth chapter of the Art of War is titled “Emptiness & Fullness”. The term could also be rendered as “fake and real”.] The same is true in boxing arts. Postures, movements, intentions, energies – they all have an element of emptiness and fullness.
  Understand emptiness and fullness, and be good at making use of them. Being empty, become full. Becoming full, seem still to be empty. Attack a place of emptiness by filling it in. Avoid a place of fullness by emptying. Aim above and then strike below, applying the strategy of “threatening to the east but striking to the west”. Start with heaviness and then become light, or start with lightness and then become heavy. Disappear and appear inconstantly. Sink and float unpredictably. This causes the opponent to never know where you are empty and full, whereas you can always find his emptiness and fullness. Avoid him where he is full and attack him where he is empty, responding according to the situation.
  Listen to his energy, observe his movement, catch his timing, and attack his position. It is like a doctor examining a patient. He first has to check his pulse, observe his complexion, listen to his body’s sounds, and ask about symptoms, and then he will be able to prescribe the right medicine. Thus it is said: “Empty and full must be distinguished clearly. In each part there is a part that is empty and a part that is full. Everywhere it is always like this, an emptiness and a fullness.”

量敵
[TWELVE] ESTIMATING THE OPPONENT

兵法云。知己知彼。百戰百勝。是故整軍行旅之初。當先審己量敵。而計其勝負之情也。誠哉斯言。勝負之機。在知與不知耳。拳雖小道。其理亦然。以已之短。當人之長。謂之失計。以己之長。當人之短。謂之得計。取勝之道。在得失之間。故量敵最關重要也。
太極拳之所謂間答。卽問其動靜。目的在聽其勁之方向與重心。卽偵察敵情之意。所謂量敵也。彼我在未進行攻擊以前。吾應以靜待動。以逸待勞。毫無成見。彼未動。我不動。彼微動。我先動。貴在彼我相交一動之間。卽知其虛實而應付之。此均由於感覺。聽勁,虛實,問答,量敵,而來。學者應注意致力焉。
It says in the Art of War [chapter 3]: “Knowing both self and opponent, in a hundred battles you will have a hundred victories.” True words indeed. Before preparing to mobilize, it is necessary to first take stock both of one’s own forces and the enemy’s situation in order to calculate how to defeat him. The difference between success or failure is a matter of knowledge versus ignorance. Although a boxing art is a lesser art, the same principle still applies. If you use your weaknesses to attack his strengths, you will lose, but if you use your strengths to attack his weaknesses, you will win. The means to victory lies on a fine line between winning and losing, therefore estimating the opponent is crucial to tip the balance.
  In Taiji Boxing’s “asking and answering”, inquire into the state of his movement or stillness, the purpose being to “listen” for the direction of his energy and the position of his center of balance. Estimating the opponent is therefore the same idea as reconnoitering the enemy’s situation. Before you and he and have advanced to attack each other, you should be using stillness to await his movement, using leisure to await his fatigue, and be entirely without any certainties as to what he is going to do. “If he takes no action, I take no action, but once he takes even the slightest action, I have already acted.” It is vital in the moment you connect that you learn the status of his emptiness and fullness in order to deal with it. To estimate the opponent is all down to sensitivity, listening to energy, asking and answering, and emptiness and fullness. You have to devote your attention to it.

知機
[THIRTEEN] KNOWING THE RIGHT MOMENT

機者。陰陽未分。虛無緲茫。謂之機。先機之謂也。卽是無聲無臭。無形無象。在應用時。是未有動靜。未成姿勢。是無機會也。工夫高者。皆能知機。能知機。能造勢。所謂無中生有。乘機而動。下者。不知機。故不得勢。所謂先知先覺。後知後覺。不知不覺。此為吾道之三大境界。凡屬吾門。一經推手。自然領會。彼我之高下。無須相角勝負。譬如圍棋。高者每下一子。皆有用意。眼光遠大。着不虛發。氣俱聯貫。而占局勢。其勝負之情己定。下者。眼光淺近。心無成竹。不得先手。隨人擺脫。而自顧不暇。其必敗也已知。推手之理亦然。高者。心氣沉靜。姿態大雅。逆來順受。運用自如。下者。進則無門。退則無路。攻之不可。守之無術。此卽知機與不知機之分耳。
The decisive moment is before passive and active qualities have become distinct, while they are still a vagueness in a void. Thus the right moment is: right before it happens. It is silent and intangible, formless and shapeless. When applying a technique, do it before the opponent moves, before he has a definite posture, when he still has no opportunity.
  One who is highly skilled is always able to know the right moment, and so he is able to create the right position. While something emerges from nothing, he takes advantage of an opportunity and acts. One who has a low level of skill does not know the right moment and therefore cannot get into the right position. It is said that to know before, to realize after, and to not notice at all are the three main skill levels in our art [in descending order]. When someone in our art has gone through the process of training in pushing hands, he immediately knows if his opponent has a higher or lower skill level than himself and does not need to wrestle to find out.
  For an analogy, it is like encirclement chess. When one who is highly skilled puts down a piece, it is always with purpose. He sees many moves in advance, and so he always moves with precision and his energy flows through every step of the process. He is able to predict everything that will happen, and so victory and defeat are already clear to him. One who has a low level of skill does not see far ahead and has no plan in mind at all [“a mind without a finished bamboo” – the phrase originally describing a painter who simply starts painting an image without having a sense of what the finished product should look like]. Unable to go on the offensive, he merely responds to whatever move the opponent has just made. As he is kept too busy with just keeping up, his defeat is already certain.
  The same principle applies in pushing hands. One who is highly skilled has a calm mind, a settled energy, and an elegant demeanor. He receives whatever comes at him and deals with it smoothly. One who has a low level of skill has no path of advance or retreat and no way to attack or defend. This is the difference between understanding timing and not understanding timing.

重心
[FOURTEEN] THE CENTER OF BALANCE

凡人有四肢軀幹。頭為首。其站立俯仰。亦各有姿勢。姿勢立。則生重心。重心穩固。所謂得機得勢。重心失中。乃有顚倒之虞。卽不得機。不得勢也。拳術,功用之基礎。則在重心之穩固與否。而重心又有固定與活動之分。固定者。是專主自己練習拳術之時。每一動作。一姿勢。均須時時注意之。或轉動。或進退皆然。重心與虛實本屬一體。虛實能變換無常。重心則不然。雖能移動。因係全體之主宰。不能輕舉妄動。使敵知吾虛實。又如作戰然。心為令。氣為旗。腰為纛。太極拳以勁為戰術。虛實為戰畧。意氣為指揮。聽勁為間牒。重心為主帥。學者。應時時揣摸默識體會之。此為斯道全體大用也。重心活動之謂。係在彼我相較之間。雖在决鬥之中。必須時時維持自己之重心。而攻擊他人之重心。卽堅守全軍之司令。而不使主帥有所失利也。
A person has four limbs and a trunk, led by the head. The positions of standing straight, leaning slightly forward, and leaning slightly back each have particular postures that go with them. Once in a posture, it will produce a center of balance. When your balance is solid, you will be in the right place at the right time. When you lose your center of balance, you will be in danger of falling into disorder, and you will end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
  The whole basis of applying a boxing art comes down to whether or not your balance is stable. But there is also the distinction between stability and maneuverability. As for stability, every movement and posture during the solo practice has to be given attention. Sometimes you will be advancing, sometimes retreating, sometimes turning, and this will involve your center of gravity in the workings of emptiness and fullness. Emptiness and fullness can alternate inconstantly, but your center of balance has to stay stable because it is in charge of your whole body even when you are shifting positions. You must not act rashly, which would cause the opponent to know the status of your emptiness and fullness.
  A fight is like a battle. “The mind makes the command, the energy is its flag, and the waist is its banner.” Taiji Boxing is like a military operation in this way: it is emptiness and fullness that forms the strategy, it is intention that sends the commands, it is listening that gathers intelligence, and your center of balance is the commander. You should constantly contemplate what you experience, for this will make the art complete in terms of both foundation and function.
  Maneuverability has to do with when you are competing with an opponent. Although in the midst of a struggle, you must at all times preserve your own center of balance and attack his. This is like protecting the commander of an army. Do not allow your general to fall.

雙重
[FIFTEEN] ON DOUBLE PRESSURE

雙重者。無虛實之謂也。雙重之病。有單方。與雙方及兩手兩足之分。經云。偏沉則隨。雙重則滯。又云,有數年純功而不能運化者。率為人制。雙重之病未悟耳。故雙重之病。最難自悟自覺。非知虛實之理。不易避免。能解此病。則聽勁,感覺,虛實,問答,皆能融會貫通焉。脚踏車之所以能行動灣轉自如者。均力學也。人坐於車上。手拂之。足踏之。目視之。身隨之。其重心在腰。而司顧盼,以手輔助之。其輪盤置於車之中心。兩足踏於脚蹬之上。一踏一提。則輪齒絞練而帶動前進矣。若使兩足同時用力踏之。則車卽行停止前進。此蓋雙重之病耳。
夫推手亦然。對方用力推我。吾若仍以力相抵抗之。因而相持。則謂之滯。此卽双方之双重也。若我或彼。各順其勢。不以力抵抗。而順對方來力之方向撤囘。引之前進。然須不丢不頂。則必有一方之力落空。此卽偏沉所致。如我擬攻對方之側面。使其倒地。若以兩手直接推之。而對方氣力强大。不可挫其鋒。須以虛實之法。雙手撫其肩。我左手由彼之右肩下捋。同時我右手擊其左肩。此時我之兩手作交叉之勢。同主一方。而發勁成一圜形。則彼可側斜而倒。因彼同時不能上下相顧。而失利也。此卽吾發勁偏沉所致也。學者悟一而知十。所謂由着熟。而漸悟懂勁也。
“Double pressure” means that there is no distinction between emptiness and fullness. The error of double pressure is divided into occurring on one side [resisting against the opponent with one hand while in a bow stance], occurring on both sides [resisting against the opponent with both hands while in a bow stance], and occurring in both hands and both feet all at the same time [resisting against the opponent with both hands while facing him squarely in a horse-riding stance].
  It says in the Classic: “If you drop one side, you can move. If you have equal pressure on both sides, you will be stuck.” And also: “We often see one who has practiced hard for many years yet is unable to perform any neutralizations and is generally under the opponent’s control, and the issue here is that this error of double pressure has not yet been understood.” Therefore the error of double pressure is very difficult to comprehend, much less be aware of, and if you do not understand the principle of emptiness and fullness, it will not be easy to avoid. But you can fix this problem by way of sensitivity, listening to energy, asking and answering, and emptiness and fullness, all of which are tools that will help you through to success.
  The reason a bicycle can move smoothly is all a matter of the science of mechanics. You sit on the seat, hands on the handlebars, feet on the pedals. Your eyes are looking ahead of you, body following, your center of balance in your waist. You control your movement side to side with the assistance of your hands, the steering pivot placed at the centerline of the bicycle. Your feet are on the pedals, one foot pressing down as the other is rising up, causing the gearing teeth to twine the chain around, thereby leading the bicycle forward. But if both feet press down at the same time, the bicycle will come to a halt. This is due to the error of double pressure. [This analogy is weakened because Wu is describing a foot-braking bicycle as opposed to one with the hand-braking system that is far more common nowadays, but the essential idea is still a good one: if you push along one side of a wheel, it will rotate, but if you push in the same direction along both sides, it will stop rotating.]
  The same principle applies to pushing hands. If the opponent uses strength to push you and you also use strength to resist against him, you will both become stuck in a stalemate. This is a situation of double pressure on both sides. If either of you instead goes along with the incoming force, there will be no resistance. If you withdraw in the direction of his incoming force, it will draw him forward. As long as you are “neither coming away nor crashing in”, this will cause his force on one side to fall into emptiness. This is the result of “dropping one side”. [Returning to the wheel analogy, the effect is the same as pushing along both sides of a wheel and then taking one hand away, causing the wheel to again rotate.]
  Suppose you want to make the opponent topple by attacking him from the side. You might try to do a direct push, even with both hands, but if he has great strength, you will not be able to upset his structure. Instead you have to use the principle of emptiness and fullness. With both hands touching his shoulders, your left hand does a rollback below his right shoulder and your right hand at the same time attacks his left shoulder. Your hands are now forming a crossed position as they come into line with each other and you issue power along a curve, causing him to be leaned aside and fall away.
  The reason this occurs is because he is unable to coordinate his upper body with his lower body and thus ends up in a disadvantageous position. This is the result of issuing power on one side while dropping the other side [your right hand expressing while your left hand is rolling back.] If you can grasp this one technique [being the rending technique], you will understand the rest. [Lun Yu, 5.8: “After learning just one thing, he knows ten.”] Thus it is said: “Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies.”

捨己從人
[SIXTEEN] LET GO OF YOURSELF AND FOLLOW THE OPPONENT

捨己從人。是捨棄自己的主張。而依從他人動作。在太極拳中。為最難能之事。因兩人在交手之時。勝負之觀念重。彼我决不相容。何况互相攻擊。或在相持之中。而棄其權利。所謂捨己從人。不僅作字面解釋而矣。在吾道中。其寓意至深。學者當於惟務養性。四字下功夫。經云。無極而生。動靜之機。陰陽之母也。動靜為性。陰陽為理。故性理為道之本源。養性之說。是學者應時時致力修養。潛心揣摩。心領神會。久之自能豁然貫通矣。又云。由着熟而漸悟懂勁。懂勁後而階及神明。此乃循環之理。歸宗之意。蓋所謂超以象外。得其寰中。功夫練到精微。能造機造勢。不愁無得機得勢處。能處處隨曲就伸。則無往不利。如此乃能捨己從人。
To “let go of yourself and follow the opponent” means to abandon your own plans and act in accordance with his movement. This is the most difficult thing to do in Taiji Boxing, because when two people cross hands, the idea of winning or losing gains weight. You and the opponent are entirely at odds with each other, and moreover trying to attack one another, and so you may become locked in a stalemate until one of you gives up. Thus it is said: “Let go of yourself and follow the opponent.” But this phrase is not used in its literal meaning. Within our art, it goes a little deeper than that.
  Students should restrain themselves, training with the mantra of “I will let go of myself and follow the opponent” in mind. It says in the Classic: “Taiji is born of wuji. It is the manifestation of movement and stillness, giving rise to the passive and active aspects.” “Movement and stillness” are the physical embodiment. “Passive and active” are the philosophical principle. The embodiment and the principle form the basis of the art. Self-restraint requires constant dedication, concentration, and instinct. After a long time, you will naturally become ready for it to suddenly all make sense to you.
  It also says: “Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies, and then from there you will work your way toward something miraculous.” This is the cyclic principle, the idea of “returning home”, as is expressed by [quoting from Sikong Tu’s The Twenty-Four Kinds of Poetry, poem 1]: “Transcend external appearances and obtain the center of the world.” [This quote is itself drawing from Zhuangzi, chapter 2: “Obtain the center of the circle and from there respond limitlessly.”] Once your skill is refined, you will be able to produce the right timing and the right position, and no longer have to worry about choosing the wrong moment or being in the wrong position. By always being able to “comply and bend, then engage and extend”, everything you try will work. It is in this sense that you will have the ability of letting go of yourself and following the opponent.

鼓盪
[SEVENTEEN] “AGITATE, AGITATE, AGITATE!”

氣沉,腰鬆,腹淨,含胸,拔背,沉肩,垂肘,節節舒展。動之。靜之。虛之。實之。呼之。吸之。開之。合之。剛之。柔之。緩之。急之。此種混合之勁。乃是鼓盪也。是故以心行意。以意行氣。以氣運身。乃生鼓盪之勁。由心氣貫串。陰陽變化而來。如颶風駭浪。雲行水流。如鳶飛魚躍。兔起鶻落。載沉載浮。忽隱忽現。大氣鼓盪。風雲莫測者也。太極推手。最後工夫有爛採花者。「又名採浪花」。全以鼓盪之勁。鼓動對方。使之如海船遇風。出入波濤之中。眩暈無主。頃斜顚簸。自身重心。難以捉摸。卽鼓盪之作用也。
Sink your energy, loosen your waist, and relax your belly. Contain your chest and pluck up your back. Sink your shoulders and droop your elbows. Stretch out each joint one after another. And then, move and be still, empty and fill, inhale and exhale, open and close, use hardness and use softness, move slow and move quick, and so on. The mixing of such opposites is what it means to agitate.
  Start with: “Use the mind to move intention. Use intention to move energy. Use energy to move the body.” Then develop an agitating energy. With mind and energy coursing through, let passive and active switch back and forth. Be like a hurricane forming, waves crashing, clouds rolling, water flowing, or like a hawk soaring, a fish leaping, a rabbit bolting, a falcon diving. Suddenly sink and suddenly rise. Suddenly hide and suddenly appear. Like changes in the weather, be as unpredictable as wind and clouds.
  The final exercise in Taiji’s pushing hands is “plucking random flowers” [i.e. freeplay] (also called “plucking at the sea spray”), and is entirely composed of agitation. Agitate the opponent, causing him to be like a boat on the sea encountering a storm and getting tossed around by the waves. Make him dizzy and disoriented, wobbly and jolted, and keep your own center of balance impossible for him to find. This is the function of agitation.

基礎
[EIGHTEEN] FUNDAMENTALS

太極拳以拳架為體。以推手為用。在初學盤架時。基礎最關重要。其姿勢務求正確。而中正安舒。其動作必須緩和。而輕靈圓活。此係入門之徑。學者循序而進。不致妄費功夫。而得其捷徑也。
In Taiji Boxing, the solo set is the foundation and the pushing hands training is the function. In the beginning of learning the solo set, the key fundamentals are: the postures should be accurate, meaning that they should be centered and upright, calm and comfortable; and the movements should be moderate, meaning that they should be light and sensitive, rounded and lively. These things form a pathway into the art. If you progress through them in the proper sequence, the result will not be that have wasted your time, and instead will turn out to be a shortcut.

中者。心氣中和。神淸氣沉。其根在脚。卽是立點。重心繫於腰脊。所謂命意源頭在腰隙。精神含歛於內。不表於外。乃能中定沉靜矣。
Centered: having a sense of your mind and energy being in state of harmoniousness.
  Your mind is clear and your energy is sinking. Techniques are rooted in your feet, being what you are standing on. Your center of balance then lies in your lower back, as is indicated by “the command comes from your lower back”. With spirit contained within rather than exhibited externally, you will thus be able to be centered and calm.

正者。姿勢端正。每一姿勢。務宜端正。而忌偏斜。然各種姿勢。各不相同。或仰,或俯,或伸。或屈。非盡中正。是以其發勁。及其用意之方向。而求其重心。蓋重心為全體樞紐。重心立。則開合靈活自如。重心不立。則開合失其關鍵。如車軸為車輪之樞紐。若使車軸。置於偏斜。而不適於車身之重心處。則車輪轉動。進退失其效用矣。故拳架之姿勢。務求正確。則重心平穩。要不自牽扯其重心。而辯別虛實也。
Upright: having a sense of your posture being properly aligned.
  Every posture should be performed with accuracy, never misaligned. However, each posture is different. Sometimes there is a forward lean, a backward lean, a reaching out, a bending in, not entirely centered or entirely upright. Therefore you have to seek to be balanced in the context of issuing power and the direction that you are sending your intention. Your “center of balance” is your body’s pivot point. When your center of balance is right, then you can open and close with nimbleness and naturalness. When your center of balance is off, then all of your openings and closings will have no leverage.
  This is like a wheel spinning around an axle. If the wheel is installed at an improper angle, it will not be suitable for supporting the weight of the car, and the turning of the wheel will not effectively move the car either forward or in reverse. Therefore the postures in the boxing set need to be accurate and your center of balance needs to be stable. Only when your posture is not impeding your balance will you be in a position to distinguish between emptiness and fullness.

安者。安然之意。切忌牽强。由自然之中。得其安適。乃無氣滯之弊。而能氣遍身軀矣。此由於姿勢安穩動作均匀。呼吸平和。神氣鎭靜所致。
Calm: having a sense of peacefulness.
  Avoid forcing yourself. Starting from a state of naturalness, seek to become comfortable. You will then be without the error of energy stagnating and instead energy will be able to move throughout your body. This is because your postures are stable, your movements are even, and your breath is gentle, and the result will be that your spirit is calm.

舒者。舒展之謂。故云先求開展。後求緊凑。初學盤架時。姿勢動作。務求開展。使全體關節。節節舒展之。然非故意用力伸張筋骨。於自然之中。徐徐鬆展。久之自然鬆活沉着矣。
Comfortable: having a sense of being stretched out.
  It is said: “First strive to open up, then strive to close up.” When beginning to learn the solo set, the postures and movements should all be opened up, causing every joint in the body to get stretched one after another. However, this is not a matter of deliberately using any effort to extend the sinews and bones, just naturally and gradually loosening. Then after a long time, you will easily feel very relaxed and settled.

輕者。輕虛之意。然忌漂浮。在盤架時。動作要輕靈而和緩。往復乃能自如。久之自生鬆活之勁。進而生粘黏之勁。故輕字是練太極拳下手之處。入門之途徑。
Light: having a ghostly lightness of touch.
  This does not mean that you are floating up. When going through the solo set, the movement should be delicate and gentle, and then you will be able to go back and forth smoothly. After a long time, you will naturally develop an energy that is loose and lively, and then you will progress to having an energy that is sticking and adhering. Thus the concept of “lightness” is an important ingredient to have when you set about learning Taiji Boxing, providing a way into the art.

靈者。靈敏之謂。由輕虛而鬆沉。由鬆沉而粘黏。能粘黏。卽能連隨。能連隨。而後方能靈敏。則可悟及不丟不頂矣。
Sensitive: having a keen awareness.
  From having a ghostly lightness will come relaxing and sinking. From relaxing and sinking will come sticking and adhering. Able to stick and adhere, you will be able to connect and follow. Able to connect and follow, you will then be able to be keenly aware. And you will then be capable of comprehending the concept of “neither coming away nor crashing in”.

圓者。圓滿之謂。每一姿勢一動作。務求圓滿。而無缺陷。則能完整一氣。而免凸凹斷續之病。推手運用各勁。非圓不靈。能圓則活。處處能圓。則無往不利。
Rounded: having a sense of completeness in the movements.
  In every posture and movement, strive to have a rounded fullness, without any cracks or gaps, and then you will able to have a single flow all the way through. Avoid the errors of having pits or protrusions anywhere, or any breaks in the flow. In the pushing hands techniques, if there is no roundness, you will lack sensitivity, whereas if your movements can be rounded, there will then be a liveliness. Always be able to be rounded, and then you will always be victorious.

活者。靈活之謂。無笨重遲滯之意。上述各節。貫通後。則伸屈開合。進退俯仰。無不自由。所謂能呼吸。而後能靈活也。
Lively: having a sense of flexibility in the movements.
  The idea is that you lack clumsiness or sluggishness. Once you have thoroughly understood the rest of the points above, then extending and bending, opening and closing, advancing and retreating, leaning forward or back, will all be performed with great freedom of movement. When all is said and done, “your ability to be nimble lies in your ability to breathe”.

授受
[NINETEEN] ON GIVING INSTRUCTION

夫人之性情。各有不同。大抵可分為兩種。曰剛,與柔,是也。剛性急而烈。上者為强。下者為暴。强者喜爭。故其學拳時多務於剛。以其性喜爭强鬥勝。不屈人下也。柔者性和而順。上者心氣中和而篤敬。故其學拳時。多務於柔。以其性喜和平多涵養也。暴者。性燥而魯莽。故其學拳時。專務於猛。而無精細之趣。柔之下者。性柔而弱。意志不强。少進取心。故其學拳時不求甚解。然武人貴志剛而性柔。有智,有仁,有勇。方為剛柔相濟。如此乃能進德修業矣。上述性別。關乎學者之本性。應注意之。學者以性情之不同。而所得結果亦異。間賞竊觀。學太極拳者。雖同一師承。而其拳之姿勢。與理論之解釋各異。因而遺下多少疑竇及誤會。凡此蓋亦教授者因其人之性情而授受之耳。所謂差之毫釐。謬以千里。故特表而出之。以解釋羣疑。而資參考焉。
Everyone has a different temperament. For the most part, there are two kinds of people: hard and soft.
  Hard people are impatient and intense. The best of them are merely forceful. Forceful people love to compete, and thus when learning a boxing art, they tend to emphasize hardness because they want to win and will not yield to other people. The worst of them they are outright violent. Violent people are crude and rash, and thus when learning a boxing art, they focus on fierceness and have no interest in precision.
  Soft people are mild and agreeable. The best of them are even-tempered and respectful, and thus when learning a boxing art they tend to emphasize softness because they want to diffuse situations and are full of patience. The worst of them overdo their softness to the point of weakness. They have no determination, no initiative, and thus when learning a boxing art, they do not strive for a thorough understanding.
  However, warriors value hardness of will and softness of temperament. Possessing the qualities of wisdom, compassion, and courage, they thus have a state of hardness and softness complementing each other. In this way, they are able to enhance their virtue and enrich their learning. Attention should be given to these two types of temperament, for students have different dispositions and consequently they will obtain different results. Observe them practicing and you will see that even if students of Taiji Boxing are learning from the same teacher, they are bound to perform the postures differently and have a different understanding of the principles.
  It is for this reason that there are many gaps and mistakes in the transmission of the art over generations, and it is generally due to teachers who have given instruction based on the student’s disposition [i.e. tailoring the art to fit the student instead of expecting the student to simply learn the art, and thereby unwittingly allowing the art to become altered for no legitimate reason]. As it is said: “Miss by an inch, lose by a mile.” This is why I have listed some of these differences of disposition above, to serve as a reference for clearing up such doubts.

[APPENDICES – THE TAIJI CLASSICS]

太極拳論
[I] TAIJI BOXING TREATISE

一舉動。周身俱要輕靈。尤須貫串。氣宜鼓盪。神宜內歛。無使有缺陷處。無使有凸凹處。無使有斷續處。其根在脚。發於腿。主宰於腰。形於手指。由脚而腿而腰。總須完整一氣。向前退後。乃得機得勢。有不得機得勢處。身便散亂。其病必於腿腰求之。上下前後左右皆然。凡此皆是意。不在外面。有上卽有下。有前卽有後。有左卽有右。如意要向上。卽寓下意。若將物掀起而加以挫之之意。斯其根自斷。乃壞之速而無疑。虛實宜分淸楚。一處自有一處虛實。處處總此一虛實。周身節節貫串。無令絲毫間斷耳。
Once there is any movement, your entire body should have lightness and nimbleness. There especially needs to be connection from movement to movement. Energy should be roused and spirit should be collected within. Do not allow there to be cracks or gaps anywhere, pits or protrusions anywhere, breaks in the flow anywhere.
  Starting from your foot, issue power through your leg, directing it from your waist, and expressing it at your fingers. From foot through leg through waist, it must be a continuous process, and whether advancing or retreating, you will then catch the opportunity and gain the upper hand. If not and your body easily falls into disorder, the problem must be in your waist and legs, so look for it there. This is always so, regardless of the direction of the movement, be it up, down, forward, back, left, right. And in all of these cases, the problem is a matter of your intent and does not lie outside of you.
  With an upward comes a downward, with a forward comes a backward, and with a left comes a right. If your intention wants to go upward, then harbor a downward intention, like when you reach down to lift up an object. You thereby add a setback to the opponent’s own intention, thus he cuts his own root and is defeated quickly and certainly. Empty and full must be distinguished clearly. In each part there is a part that is empty and a part that is full. Everywhere it is always like this, an emptiness and a fullness. Throughout your body, as the movement goes from one section to another there has to be connection. Do not allow the slightest break in the connection.

長拳者。如長江大海。滔滔不絕也。十三勢者。掤,捋,擠,按,採,挒,肘,靠,此八卦也。進步,退步,左顧,右盼,中定,此五行也,掤,捋,擠,按,卽乾,坤,坎,離,四正方也。採,挒,肘,靠,卽巽,震,兌,艮,四斜角也。進,退,顧,盼,定,卽金,木,水,火,土也。(原注云此係武當山張三丰老師遺論欲天下豪傑延年益夀不徒作技藝之末也)
Long Boxing: it is like a long river flowing into the wide ocean, on and on ceaselessly…
  The thirteen dynamics are: warding off, rolling back, pressing, pushing, plucking, rending, elbowing, and bumping – which relate to the eight trigrams:

☱ ☰ ☴
☲      ☵
☳ ☷ ☶

and advancing, retreating, stepping to the left, stepping to the right, and staying in the center – which relate to metal, wood, water, fire, and earth: the five elements. Warding off, rolling back, pressing, and pushing correspond to ☰, ☷, ☵, and ☲ in the four principle compass directions [meaning simply that these are the primary techniques]. Plucking, rending, elbowing, and bumping correspond to ☴, ☳, ☱, and ☶ in the four corner directions [i.e. are the secondary techniques]. Advancing, retreating, stepping to the left, stepping to the right, and staying in the center correspond to the five elements of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth.
  (A original note says: “This relates to the theory left to us from Zhang Sanfeng of Mt. Wudang. He wanted all the heroes in the world to live long and not merely gain martial skill.”)

太極拳經 山右王宗岳遺著
[II] TAIJI BOXING CLASSIC (by Wang Zongyue of Shanxi)

太極者。無極而生。動靜之機。陰陽之母也。動之則分。靜之則合。無過不及。隨曲就伸。人剛我柔謂之走。我順人背謂之黏。動急則急應。動緩則緩隨。雖變化萬端。而理為一貫。由着熟而漸悟懂勁。由懂勁而階及神明。然非用力之久。不能豁然貫通焉。虛領頂勁。氣沉丹田。不偏不倚。忽隱忽現。左重則左虛。右重則右虛。仰之則彌高。俯之則彌深。進之則愈長。退之則愈促。一羽不能加。蠅蟲不能落。人不知我。我獨知人。英雄所向無敵。蓋皆由此而及也。斯技旁門甚多。雖勢有區別。槪不外乎壯欺弱慢讓快耳。有力打無力。手慢讓手快。是皆先天自然之能。非關學力而有為也。察四兩撥千斤之句。顯非力勝。觀耄耋能禦衆之形。快何能為。立如平準。活如車輪。偏沈則隨。雙重則滯。每見數年純功。不能運化者。率皆自為人制。雙重之病未悟耳。欲避此病。須知陰陽。黏卽是走。走卽是黏。陰不離陽。陽不離陰。陰陽相濟。方為懂勁。懂勁後。愈練愈精。默識揣摩。漸至從心所欲。本是舍己從人。多誤舍近求遠。所謂差之毫釐。謬以千里。學者不可不詳辨焉。
Taiji [“grand polarity”] is born of wuji [“nonpolarity”]. It is the manifestation of movement and stillness, the mother of yin and yang [the passive and active aspects]. When there is movement, passive and active become distinct from each other. When there is stillness, they return to being indistinguishable.
  Neither going too far nor not far enough, comply and bend then engage and extend.
He is hard while I am soft – this is yielding. My energy is smooth while his energy is coarse – this is sticking. If he moves fast, I quickly respond, and if his movement is slow, I leisurely follow. Although there is an endless variety of possible scenarios, there is only this single principle [of yielding and sticking] throughout. Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies, and then from there you will gradually progress toward something miraculous. But unless you practice a lot over a long time, you will never have a breakthrough.
  Forcelessly press up your headtop. Energy sinks to your elixir field. Neither lean nor slant. Suddenly hide and suddenly appear. When there is pressure on the left, the left empties. When there is pressure on the right, the right disappears. When looking up, it is still higher. When looking down, it is still lower. When advancing, it is even farther. When retreating, it is even nearer. A feather cannot be added and a fly cannot land. The opponent does not understand me, only I understand him. A hero is one who encounters no opposition, and it is through this kind of method that such a condition is achieved.
  There are many other schools of boxing arts besides this one. Although the postures are different between them, they never go beyond the strong bullying the weak and the slow yielding to the fast. The strong beating the weak and the slow submitting to the fast are both a matter of inherent natural ability and bear no relation to skill that is learned. Examine the phrase “four ounces deflects a thousand pounds”, which is clearly not a victory obtained through strength. Or consider the sight of an old man repelling a group, which could not come from an aggressive speed.
  Stand like a scale. Move like a wheel. If you drop one side, you can move. If you have equal pressure on both sides, you will be stuck. We often see one who has practiced hard for many years yet is unable to perform any neutralizations, always under the opponent’s control, and the issue here is that this error of double pressure has not yet been understood. If you want to avoid this error, you must understand passive and active. In sticking there is yielding and in yielding there is sticking. The active does not depart from the passive and the passive does not depart from the active, for the passive and active exchange roles. Once you have this understanding, you will be identifying energies. Once you are identifying energies, then the more you practice, the more efficient your skill will be, and by absorbing through experience and by constantly contemplating, gradually you will reach the point that you can do whatever you want.
  The basic of basics is to forget about your plans and simply respond to the opponent. We often make the mistake of ignoring what is right in front of us in favor of something that has nothing to do with our immediate circumstances. For such situations it is said: “Miss by an inch, lose by a mile.” You must understand all this clearly.

十三勢歌
[III] THIRTEEN DYNAMICS SONG

十三勢勢莫輕視。命意源頭在腰隙。變轉虛實須留意。氣遍身軀不少滯。靜中觸動動猶靜。因敵變化示神奇。勢勢存心揆用意。得來不覺費功夫。刻刻留心在腰間。腹內鬆淨氣騰然。尾閭中正神貫頂。滿身輕利頂頭懸。仔細留心向推求。屈伸開合聽自由。入門引路須口授。功夫無息法自修。若言體用何為準。意氣君來骨肉臣。想推用意終何在。益夀延年不老春。歌兮歌兮百四十。字字真切義無遺。若不向此推求去。枉費功夫貽嘆惜。
Do not neglect any of the thirteen dynamics,
their command coming from your lower back.
You must pay attention to the alternation of empty and full,
then energy will flow through your whole body without getting stuck anywhere.
  In stillness, movement stirs, and then in moving, seem yet to be in stillness,
for the magic lies in making adjustments based on being receptive to the opponent.
Posture by posture, stay mindful, observing intently.
If something comes at you without your noticing it, you have been wasting your time.
  At every moment, pay attention to your waist,
for if there is complete relaxation within your belly, energy is primed.
Your tailbone is centered and spirit penetrates to your headtop,
thus your whole body will be nimble and your headtop will be pulled up as if suspended.
  Pay careful attention in your practice
that you are letting bending and extending, contracting and expanding, happen as the situation requires.
Beginning the training requires personal instruction,
but mastering the art depends on your own unceasing effort.
  Whether we are discussing in terms of theory or function, what is the constant?
It is that mind is sovereign and body is subject.
If you think about it, what is emphasizing the use of intention going to lead you to?
To a longer life and a longer youth.
  Repeatedly recite the words above,
all of which speak clearly and hence their ideas come through without confusion.
If you pay no heed to those ideas, you will go astray in your training,
and you will find you have wasted your time and be left with only sighs of regret.

十三勢行功心解
[IV] UNDERSTANDING HOW TO PRACTICE THE THIRTEEN DYNAMICS

以心行氣。務令沈着。乃能收歛入骨。以氣運身。務令順遂。乃能便利從心。精神能提得起。則無遲重之虞。所謂頂頭懸也。意氣須換得靈。乃有圓活之趣。所謂變動虛實也。發勁須沉着鬆淨。專主一方。立身須中正安舒。支撐八面。行氣如九曲珠。無往不利。(氣遍身軀之謂)運動如百鍊鋼。何堅不摧。形如搏兔之鵠。神如捕鼠之貓。靜如山岳。動若江河。蓄勁如開弓。發勁如放箭。曲中求直。蓄而後發。力由脊發。步隨身換。收卽是放。斷而復連。往復須有摺疊。進退須由轉換。極柔軟然後極堅硬。能呼吸。然後能靈活。氣以直養而無害。勁以曲蓄而有餘。心為令。氣為旗。腰為纛。先求開展。後求緊凑。乃可臻於縝密矣。
Use mind to move energy. You must get the energy to sink. It is then able to collect in the bones. Use energy to move your body. You must get the energy to be smooth. Your body can then easily obey your mind.
  If your spirit can be raised up, then you will be without worry of being slow or weighed down. Thus it is said [in the Thirteen Dynamics Song]: “Your whole body will be nimble and your headtop will be pulled up as if suspended”. Your mind must perform alternations nimbly, and then you will have the qualities of roundness and liveliness. Thus it is said [also in the Song]: “Pay attention to the alternation of empty and full”.
  When issuing power, you must sink and relax, concentrating it in one direction. Your posture must be upright and comfortable, bracing in all directions.
  Move energy as though through a winding-path pearl, penetrating even the smallest nook. Wield power like tempered steel, so strong there is nothing tough enough to stand up against it.
  The shape is like a falcon capturing a rabbit. The spirit is like a cat pouncing on a mouse.
  In stillness, be like a mountain, and in movement, be like a river.
  Store power like drawing a bow. Issue power like loosing an arrow.
  Within curving, seek to be straightening. Store and then issue.
  Power comes from your spine. Step according to your body’s adjustments.
  To gather is to release. Disconnect but stay connected.
  In the back and forth [of the arms], there must be folding. In the advance and retreat [of the feet], there must be variation.
  Extreme softness begets extreme hardness. Your ability to be nimble lies in your ability to breathe.
  By nurturing energy with integrity, it will not be corrupted. By storing power in crooked parts, it will be in abundant supply.
  The mind makes the command, the energy is its flag, and the waist is its banner.
  First strive to open up, then strive to close up, and from there you will be able to attain a refined subtlety.

又曰。先在心。後在身。腹鬆。氣歛入骨。神舒體靜。刻刻在心。切記一動無有不動。一靜無有不靜。牽動往來氣貼背。歛入脊骨。內固精神。外示安逸。邁步如貓行。運動如抽絲。全神意在精神。不在氣。在氣則滯。有氣者無力。無氣者純剛。氣若車輪。腰如車軸。
It is also said:
  First in the mind, then in the body.
  With your abdomen relaxed, energy collects in your bones. Spirit comfortable, body calm – at every moment be mindful of this.
  Always remember: if one part moves, every part moves, and if one part is still, every part is still.
  As the movement leads back and forth, energy sticks to and gathers in your spine.
  Inwardly bolster spirit and outwardly show ease.
  Step like a cat and move energy as if drawing silk.
  Throughout your body, your mind should be on the spirit rather than on the energy, for if you are fixated on the energy, your movement will become sluggish. Whenever your mind is on the energy, there will be no power, whereas if you ignore the energy and let it take care of itself, there will be pure strength.
  The energy is like a wheel and the waist is like an axle.

打手歌
[V] PLAYING HANDS SONG

掤捋擠按須認眞。上下相隨人難進。任他巨力來打我。牽動四兩撥千斤。引入落空合卽出。粘連黏隨不丢頂。
Ward-off, rollback, press, and push must be taken seriously.
With coordination between above and below, the opponent will hardly find a way in.
I will let him attack me with as much power as he likes,
for I will tug with four ounces of force to divert his of a thousand pounds.
Guiding him in to land on nothing, I then close on him and send him away.
I stick, connect, adhere, and follow, neither coming away nor crashing in.

又曰。彼不動,己不動。彼微動,己先動。勁似鬆非鬆。將展未展。勁斷意不斷。
It is also said:
  If he takes no action, I take no action, but once he takes even the slightest action, I have already acted.
  The power seems relaxed but not relaxed, about to expand but not yet expanding. And then even though my power finishes, my intention still continues…

Events and Trends that Shaped the Chinese Martial Arts in 2018

 

This is the time of year when it is only natural to pause and reflect on where we have been and what may be coming next.  2018 has been a busy year in the Chinese martial arts.  Progress has been in made in certain areas, while suggestions of trouble have arisen in others.  Lets explore all of this together as we count down the top ten news stories of the last year.  As always, if you spotted a trend or article that you think should have made this list, please feel free to leave a link in the comments below!

 

A “Kung Fu” nun demonstrates a pole form at a Tibetan Temple in Nepal.

 

10. The first story on our list reflects one of my favorite themes (and research areas).  Namely 2018 saw an expansion in the Chinese government’s efforts to harness its traditional martial arts as a tool of cultural and public diplomacy.   Confucius Institutes around the world have a mandate to hold various sorts of cultural education events, and if you live near one in North America or Western Europe it is not that difficult to find a martial arts themed event once or twice a year.  These efforts pale in comparison to the resources being invested in cultural exchange and education programs in Africa (where China has made substantial investments and is eager to maintain a positive public image) and in other regions affected by the “Belt and Road Initiative.”  As I reviewed the last year’s news it seemed that we were hearing more about these sorts of efforts in South and Central Asia. This story, from back in July, nicely illustrates these trends as it discusses efforts to expand the profile of the Chinese martial arts in Nepal.

 

 

9.  In a very real sense we are the product of our identities.  They create us and impart a sense of purpose and meaning in our lives.  Yet no identity is perfectly stable.  These things are constantly shifting, slipping and being renegotiated as their relationship with society changes.  As such, identity can be a source of anxiety, though people will go to remarkable lengths to suppress these feelings.  Still, 2018 seems to have been a year when anxiety in the TCMA boiled to surface and entered into a number of (seemingly) unrelated discussions.

Certainly the ongoing trend of traditional “masters” being pummeled by journeyman MMA fighters on social media has helped to crystalize this.  But it can be seen in other places as well.  For instance, this account of a “Chinese Cultural Night” at a local University caught my attention as it argued that the traditional martial arts were a critical aspect of Asian American identity.

Yet Asian American media critics are increasingly reserving their praise for projects that distance the Asian American community from what they see as limiting activities  and lazy media troupes.  Indeed, on the media front 2018 will certainly be remembered as the year of “Crazy Rich Asians” rather than anything martial arts related. The value and place of these activities within the constellation of ideas, representations and practices that collectively comprise “Asian American Identity” seems to be up for explicit renegotiation.

A different, and more official, version of this debate seems to have emerged among certain Chinese policy makers.  As our first story noted, the Chinese government has long sought to harness global interest in the martial arts, cooking and other traditional practices as a “soft power” resource in international politics.  Yet another group of officials is becoming concerned that these self-Orientalizing strategies will backfire in the long run.  They worry that China is not doing enough to showcase itself as a rich, technologically advanced and urban society. Individuals who travel to China may be disappointed when they discover a wonderland of modern materialism rather the romantic haven of “traditional” culture that they imagined.  In any case, who is to say that this more realistic image of Chinese culture would not appeal to an ever greater segment of the world’s population (specifically, the sorts of people who enjoy scenes of rapid economic development, followed by the rise of soaring glass and steel skylines). Is it a problem that the identity which China seeks to cultivate on the world stage does not reflect the values and aspirations of many of its citizens?  It will be interesting to see where this debate goes in 2019.

 

Xu Xiaodong Strikes again!

8. Xu Xiadong topped the 2017 news list, and he succeeded in making waves in 2018 as well.  I had a particular fondness for   this article which appeared Bloody Elbow  back in April.  It struck me as interesting on two counts.  Its title, “MMA fighters batter Wing Chun Masters in China”, was a masterpiece of aspirational misstatement.  A more accurate title would have read: “MMA (journeyman trainer) batters (unknown) Wing Chun (practitioner) in Japan.”  Yeah, that is better.  

Beyond that, this story, and others like it, capture so much of the anxiety that surrounds the Chinese martial arts.  Xu has gotten in trouble with the government as they view his antics as devaluing China’s traditional culture and “humiliating the nation” (no matter how much he protests to the contrary).  And the press coverage of Xu’s activities really frames an entire group of other stories chronicling the rise of MMA, Muay Thai and BBJ in China as activities to be taken up by regular citizens rather than just professional fighters (which is where Sanda and Olympic Judo had largely remained).   My favorite of those pieces was the New York Times article titled “The First Rule of Chinese Fight Club: No Karaoke.” It provides a nice profile of a local “fight club,” inspired both by the founder’s love of the movie, and the growing popularity of Western combat sports in China.  It discusses the legal and administrative hurdles that such a business faces, and in so doing gives a nice glimpse into the social anxieties that still surround the martial arts. Here is a quote to whet your appetite:

“…boxing, mixed martial arts and other high-energy fighting forms have been enjoying a minor boom in China in recent years. Gyms and audiences have multiplied across the country. Precise numbers are hard to come by, but one fan group estimates that the number of clubs had reached 8,300 in 2016, up from 2,700 in 2008.

Even so, commercial fight venues that draw a broader audience are rare. And Chengdu, with its zestful night life and hipster scene, seemed as good a place as any to try opening one. Yet even here the club has struggled to balance between being cool enough to draw customers and respectable enough to keep the inspectors at bay.

In a former venue, the fight club had to fend off complaints from the police, who deemed the weekly bouts undesirable, if not illegal. The authorities cut off their power and water late last year, Mr. Shi and Mr. Wang said. Tensions had also grown when a national controversy erupted last April after Xu Xiaodong, a mixed martial arts fighter, challenged masters of China’s gentler traditional martial arts to fight and flattened one of them in about 10 seconds.

Mr. Xu may have won that fight hands down, but the episode brought bad publicity for new martial arts in China.”

A student performs at a demonstration near Mt. Song. Source:http://www.dailymail.co.uk/

7.  The government’s involvement with Xu’s various challenge fights should inspire students of martial arts studies to critically reflect on the various intersections of politics and Kung Fu.  Indeed, the second half of 2018 saw a number of stories in which the Chinese government explicitly demanded a greater degree of loyalty from the nation’s institutions of traditional cultural.

The Shaolin Temple, in its double capacity as both a religious institution and center for martial arts training, found itself at the center of this controversy. Seeking to get ahead of new government policy directives designed to limit the independence of Chinese religious movements from the state and Communist Party, the temple’s leadership decided to take a much more visible and proactive role in promoting “patriotism” (rather than simply Buddhism) in the monks’ public performance.  This is actually a somewhat nuanced topic as Chinese Buddhist monasteries have never been truly independent of the state and Shaolin, in particular, already carries a patriotic reputation.  Still, the move has inspired some controversy and much discussion.  A good overview of all this can be found in the South China Morning Post article titled: “Red flag for Buddhists? Shaolin Temple ‘takes the lead’ in Chinese patriotism push.” Here is a sample of the sort of pushback that has been encountered:

Tsui Chung-hui, of the University of Hong Kong’s Centre of Buddhist Studies, said Buddhist scripture already required its followers to respect the state.

“The government does not need to take pains to promote [this] and monasteries also do not need to pander to politics,” Tsui said on Tuesday. “They should let monks dedicate themselves to Buddhism and not waste their time performing various political propaganda activities.”

China has recently come under the spotlight for its efforts to clamp down on minority religions including Islam and Christianity, which it associates with foreign influence or ethnic separatism. Mosques and churches flying the national flag have become an increasingly common sight in China amid the crackdown.

Interested readers may also want to check out this follow-up article critically examining the state of Buddhism in China, including multiple discussions of the compromised situation of the Shaolin Temple.

 

 

6. When thinking about the Chinese martial arts and politics it would be a mistake to focus solely on the question of national identities.  These systems are also invoked as part of efforts to define and shore up a wide variety of local and regional structures.  This is something that we can see throughout the realm of the traditional Asian martial arts.  Still, when reviewing media coverage of these events I noted that “Southern” arts (and cities showed up) with a fair degree of frequency.  These articles are so interesting to me that its hard to pick just one. Over the course of the last year we saw lots of good news coverage of Wing Chun in Hong Kong, exhibitions on the Hakka arts, and a really nice piece on the rebirth of Foshan’s Choy Li Fut in the 1990s. But if forced to choose I might suggest taking a look at this piece on White Crane in Taipei.  I liked the way that it explicitly engaged with the discourse linking local martial arts practice with regional prestige/identity.  Note the following quote:

Every Asian nation and culture around Taiwan has laid claim to a signature martial art, such as taichi, wing chun, karate, taekwondo, Muay Thai and escrima, [Lin] said.

“It is a shame that Taiwan does not have a representative martial art,” he said. “I want to leave behind something for the nation. I have vowed that I will travel to make the feeding crane style thrive all over the world,” he said.

 

 

 

5. Anthony Bourdain’s death earlier this year inspired a torrent of press coverage.  Interestingly, some of it focused on both the famed chef’s prior drug use and relationship with the martial arts. While not directly related to the traditional Chinese martial arts (Bourdain was an avid BJJ student), his passing did reignite interest in the use of all sorts of martial arts training to treat (and support) individuals recovering from addiction.  I addressed the discursive relationship between Bourdain’s celebrity, addiction recovery and martial arts practice here.  And much of the subsequent media discussion focused on programs attempting to use Taijiquan (rather than BJJ) in institutional settings.

 

 

4. Our collection of top stories in 2017 discussed some of the ways that the “Me Too” movement manifested itself within the martial arts community.  2018 was not without some disturbing new revelations of its own. But even more common was a different sort of account settling, one in which female martial arts pioneers were acknowledged for their accomplishments.  The San Francisco Chronicle  ran a great piece on Cheng Pei-Pei (probably the first female martial arts star) who was honored at CAAMFest.  It has a number of good quotes on the golden age of Hong Kong film as well as the development of Cheng’s career.  And it all started with her epic first film, “Come Drink With Me.”

From the moment she entered that inn and took a table in the middle of the room with steely confidence amid dozens of leering men — then dispatched them in an epic fight with a fury unseen in cinema up to that point, 19-year-old Cheng Pei-Pei was a star.

The year was 1966, and “Come Drink With Me,” directed by the great King Hu, was the first major martial arts movie to have a woman as the central action star, paving the way for Michelle Yeoh, Zhang Ziyi and many others. And this was 13 years before Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley character in “Alien” broke ground in Hollywood as an action heroine.

Other stories focused on the up and coming female martial artists.  The rapid growth of the MMA scene in China has led to the rise of a new generation of female fighters, and reporters have been quick to record and promote their stories.

 

English language tabloids continue to discuss the newly “rediscovered” tradition of “kung fu bull fighting.” This is basically the latest attempt to parlay martial arts exhibitions into a local tourist attraction.

 

3.  It seems that every year has that one story that just won’t die.  Somewhat improbably, 2018’s champion would have to be “Kung Fu Bull Fighting.”  If you have never heard of this “ancient” practice before, don’t worry, you are not alone.  Bull wrestling was first registered as an ethnic martial art (attributed to the Hui people) in 2008.  More recently practiconers in Zhejiang have taken to the practice in an attempt to create a local tourist attraction, capturing a slice of China’s lucrative domestic tourism market.  And its hard to blame them.  The massive success of places like Chen Village and the Shaolin Temple ensures that local officials throughout China are always on the lookout for raw material that can be turned into the next martial arts pilgrimage destination.

Still, the practice of Kung Fu bullfighting (which first hit the English language press in September of this year) feels different.  While many Chinese language books on the martial arts begin with a boilerplate paragraph explaining that these fighting systems were invented in the ancient past to defend the people from “wild animals,” I don’t think I have ever seen a modern “martial art” system that claimed to take animals as their primary opponent.  While it would be easy to look at this story in terms of (transparently) “invented traditions” and the demands of local tourism markets, I suspect that there is more going on here.  The constant comparisons to Spanish bull fighting in these articles suggests an exercise in both gender and national identity construction.  On the other hand, given all of the news about the Chinese martial arts (movies, sporting events, kung fu diplomacy, etc…) that is produced every month, one has to wonder why this story has captured the English language press to the degree that it has? Clearly there is a healthy dose of Orientalism going on here.  But what specifically do readers imagine that they are learning about Chinese culture as they immerse themselves within the world of “ancient” Chinese bullfighting?  What does this suggest about the ways that China continues to be imagined in the West?  The strange endurance of this story reminds us that even the least serious practice can inspire important questions.

 

 

2.  There is no better known figure within the Chinese martial arts than Bruce Lee.  Indeed, he is probably the most well-known martial arts figure of all time.  Still, even by Lee’s elevated standard, 2018 was a good year.  Anniversaries aside, much of that credit must go to the well known author Matthew Polly who finally released his long anticipated (and extensively researched) biography.  I don’t think its an exaggeration to say that this Polly’s effort is destined to be remembered as the definitive Bruce Lee biography.

Just as interesting as the book itself was the media’s response to it. While the tabloids tended to dwell on Polly’s more lurid revelations, the book was reviewed, discussed and meditated upon in a surprisingly wide variety of print and televised outlets. Pretty much every major newspaper and magazine weighed in on Polly’s book, some more than once. Discussions of this work dominated the Chinese martial arts headlines for months, testifying to Lee’s enduring charisma. Lee even got his own academic conference earlier this year (at which Polly made an appearance)!  All in all, 2018 was a good year for the Bruce Lee legacy, and it suggests that his image continues to shape the way that the public perceives the Chinese martial arts.

 

 

1.  This brings us to the top news story of 2018, the passing of Louis Cha, also known to his fans as Jin Yong.  Indeed, coverage of his achievements began relatively early in the year with the announcement of new graphic novels based on his work, and  the release of an important English language translation of Legend of Condor Heroes. While Cha is the best selling modern Chinese author, few of his works had found English language publishers. As such, this new translation was treated as a major publishing event which generated a large number of reviews, discussions and think pieces.

That press coverage proved to be only a primer of what was to come  following the author’s death (at the age of 94) at the end of October.  It seemed that every major paper and news outlet on both sides of the Pacific was eager to remember and reevaluate the fruits of a remarkable life.  There was much to be said regarding Cha’s contributions as a newspaper editor and leading (and at times controversial) political figure during Hong Kong’s transition to Chinese rule.

Yet it would be impossible to overstate the importance of Cha’s Wuxia novels in the rejuvenation of Hong Kong’s post-war martial arts culture.  His stories provided practices that were often publicly scorned with a degree of gravitas.  They granted cathartic relief to a generation of exiled readers struggling with the sudden realization that after 1949 they would not be returning to their homes in other parts of China.  Later they helped younger readers to position their own martial practice and social struggles in terms of larger cultural and historic narratives.

While Cha was never known as a martial artist, his writings helped to popularize and give social meaning to these practices.  Indeed, for cultural historians of the Southern Chinese martial arts it is often necessary think in terms of the “pre” and “post” Jin Yong eras.  While Cha’s passing is a tragedy, the remembrances of the last few months have highlighted his enduring contributions to the public appreciation of the Chinese martial arts.

YAN QING’S SINGLE SABER

燕青單刀
YAN QING’S SINGLE SABER
順德黃漢勛編述
by Huang Hanxun [Wong Honfan] of Shunde
山東蓬萊羅光玉老師授
as taught by Luo Guangyu of Penglai, Shandong
攝影者:譚以禮
postures photographed by Tan Yili
校對者:黃子英
text proofread by Huang Ziying
[published 33rd year of the cycle, 6th month, 1st day (Jul 8, 1956)]

[translation by Paul Brennan, Dec, 2018]

㷼青單刀
Yan Qing’s Single Saber
黃漢勋自署
– calligraphy by Huang Hanxun

燕青单刀形勢圖
Map for the postures in the set:

图例:凢由東至西。或由西返東之直線形。皆以同一線為凖。其分線繪图者。不外為利便絵圖耳。
The postures will travel from east to west, then come back from west to east [and then once more from east to west and west to east], both ways in a straight line. These lines are drawn simply for convenience.

S

E   東  +  西  W

N

試刀小言
A FEW WORDS ON EXAMINING THE SABER

古俠士與武林先哲嘗以得寶刀寶劍為榮,其得寶也必先看之,試之,以攷其實,精武前輩,盍煒昌先生嘗贈余以試劍圖乙幀,盧君致力武道四十年其神彩至為活現,余以此刀祗得五十五圖,因補撕此圖以凑合篇幅耳,若云以先哲前賢自視,能勿愧煞乎!抑亦能毋有東施效顰之嫌歟。
Ancient warriors and wise men within the martial arts community considered it an honor to receive a “precious saber” or a “precious sword”. But to test whether it was really a precious blade, they first had to examine it [by drawing it from its scabbard, as in the photo]. Jingwu elder Lu Weichang once gave me a photo of himself examining a sword. He devoted himself to martial ways for forty years and his passion for it was visible. Although this saber set in this book contains only fifty-five postures, it may seem that the addition of this one photo makes the book too long. If it makes you think that I consider myself to be on a par with previous masters like Lu, shame on you. Do not imagine for an instant that I am trying to make some pathetic attempt to imitate that great man.

自序
AUTHOR’S PREFACE

單刀一械為步戰中慣用武器之一,其法乃脫胎於大刀而大盛於宋明及亡淸,宋末水滸傳中之浪子燕靑即以單刀法見稱於世矣,其後王五亦以單刀著譽武林,「人或以大刀王五稱之。」余則以為王所用刀畧大而已,並非為大砍刀之大刀也,燕靑單刀僅傳五十五刀法,中有重式者,除外則半耳!單刀有十法,即劈,軋,抅,掛,削,拍,挑,撩,搜,撈,也。漢雖曾一個時期致力於此,祗惜二十年來,就食四方是以致技術生疏退板,且以個人精神魄力去應需求不同之習技者,是難得專心致意於某一技之機會,茲僅拾遺法於萬一用以列諸於冊,雖未能揚前人之美妙,但尤勝乎昧昧於心而藏諸黃土之為計也,但願人人以發揚國粹自任,使具有民族性之技術千古不替,是所厚幸焉。黃漢勛於丙申端午東方國術部
The single saber is a weapon that has been commonly used by infantry. Its techniques emerge from the large saber art and it flourished through the dynasties of Song, Ming, and right up until the end of the Qing. In the late Song Dynasty novel The Water Margin, the character of “The Wanderer” Yan Qing was well-known for his single saber skills. Later on [late 19th century], Wang Wu [Wang Zhengyi] also become famous in martial arts circles for his use of the single saber, and was sometimes known as “Large Saber Wang Wu”. I use a slightly larger saber than Wang did, and so it is not the “large cleaving saber” type of large saber. Yan Qing’s Single Saber is a set that contains only fifty-five postures, and half of them are repeats. The single saber art has ten techniques: chopping, rolling, hooking, hanging, slicing, patting, carrying, raising, searching, and scooping.
  Although I at one time devoted myself to this set, that was twenty years ago, and I have since had my attention pulled in so many directions that my saber skill has rusted. Because the task I have dedicated myself to requires the training of many different abilities, it is difficult to get the chance to focus all of my attention on a single skill. This set that I have picked to be in this series of books is just one tiny sample from all that I have inherited. Although I cannot do justice to the brilliance of previous generations, I at least seek to overcome ignorance and reveal what might otherwise become buried away. I only wish for everyone to take it upon themselves to carry on our national culture and keep our nation’s arts from ever being replaced. This is my sincere hope.
  - written by Huang Hanxun at the Far East Martial Arts Headquarters, 33rd year of the cycle, Dragon Boat Festival [which takes place on the 5th day of the 5th lunar month, hence June 13, 1956]

第一式 出步中平式
Posture 1: IN READINESS TO STEP OUT, STANDING STABLY

說明:
Explanation:
假定此刀擇定東方作起點者應背南,面北,右東,左西而立,注視西方,左手捧刀,刀沿臂緊貼,刀以不逾頭而與耳齊為合度右手掌貼身,垂下,如「定式圖」
Stand in the eastern part of the practice space to begin this set, with the south behind you, the north in front of you, the east to your right, the west to your left. Your gaze is to the west. Your left hand is holding the saber, the [back of the] saber touching along [the top of] the arm. The saber should not extend past your head and should instead be at ear level. Your right palm is hanging down near your body [thigh]. See photo 1:

功用:
Application:
刀勢尚未展開,故無功用可言。
In this posture, you have not yet reached out with the saber, and thus there is no application to speak of.

第二式 抱刀上步式
Posture 2: HOLDING THE SABER, STEP FORWARD

說明:
Explanation:
沿上式,先出右脚,右掌與刀向前直出,目向前視,如「過後式」甲,
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot goes out as your right palm and the saber go straight out forward. Your gaze is forward. See photo 2a:

再進左脚以成左跨虎步,右掌化作刁手與刀齊往後收,逾後逾佳,目注西而視,如『定式圖』
Then your left foot advances to make a left sitting-tiger stance as your right hand becomes a hooking hand and withdraws behind you in unison with the saber. The farther they reach back, the better. Your gaze is toward the west. See photo 2b:

功用:
Application:
刀尚未交於右手,故仍為開式之勢,尚無實用可言。
As the saber has not yet been switched to your right hand, this is still an opening posture, and thus there is still not really any application to speak of.

第三式 斜步四平式
Posture 3: DIAGONAL STEP, FOUR-LEVEL POSTURE

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先拉起左脚,復進前右脚,以成立正之勢,右手復化為掌與刀同時向西方舉出,如「過渡式甲圖」
Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot lifts, then your right foot advances to stand next to it, making a posture of standing at attention, as your right hand changes back to a palm and goes out to the west together with the saber. See photo 3a:

再退右脚拉左脚以成向正西方之跨虎步,右掌自左腋下出而向上,刀往後斜拖,如『定式圖』。
Then your right foot retreats and your left foot pulls back to make a sitting-tiger stance facing toward the west as your right palm goes out upward from below your left armpit, the saber pulling back until it is diagonal behind you. See photo 3b:

功用:
Application:
此式雖然於刀尚無致用之處,但相傳江湖上之鑣囊乃懸於腋下者,因此右手返至腋內者即取鑣之意,復向上揚者,亦即投擲之暗示也,今之用鑣者少,因是而祗是象徵而已。
In this posture, the saber still has no practical function, but according to tradition, wandering entertainers had a dart pocketed below the armpit, thus the right hand goes toward the armpit with a sense of taking out the dart and then raises upward to represent throwing this hidden weapon. Those who use such darts are very rare nowadays, and thus this is simply a symbolic gesture.

第四式 竄跳出身式
Posture 4: LEAPING UP AND SENDING OUT YOUR BODY

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,刀不動,右掌化拳自腰部與左脚向西前方齊出如「過渡式甲圖「。
Continuing from the previous posture, the saber does not change its position as your right palm becomes a fist and punches out from your waist, your left foot kicking out at the same time, both going out toward the west in unison. See photo 4a:

再跳起以右掌拍落右膝部,刀畧向前伸,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then hop up, using your right palm to slap down against your right knee area, the saber slightly reaching forward. See photo 4b:

落右脚以成扑腿之勢,右掌變拳收腰,刀則轉至胸前,如「過渡丙式圖」。
Your right leg comes down [and your left leg extends forward] to make a reaching-leg stance as your right palm becomes a fist and withdraws to your waist, the saber arcing until in front of your chest. See photo 4c:

再起過左腰後,右拳自腰部衝出,如『定式圖』。
Then rise up, the saber passing the left side of your waist and going behind you as your right fist thrusts out from your waist. See photo 4d:

功用:
Application:
此蹤跳出身者是與敵求接近之意也,我先以拳腿攻之,再用扑腿法剷之,彼欲跳起卸避,我則轉馬用捶直統之也。
This technique of leaping up and sending my body out is for dissuading an opponent who wants to approach me. I first use a technique of fist and foot attacking simultaneously, then use a reaching-leg stance to shovel underneath him. He will thus want to jump away to evade me, so I switch my stance and send a thrust punch straight at him.

第五式 扑腿推刀式
Posture 5: REACHING-LEG STANCE, PUSHING THE SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,左右脚不變原來位置,祗再由左登山步往後轉為扑腿耳!刀自後繞過面前,右拳變掌隨刀而轉如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your feet stay in their location and you simply shift back to the rear, going from a left mountain-climbing stance to a reaching-leg stance [the photo showing more of a right mountain-climbing], the saber going from behind you, passing in front of you, [and arcing to the right,] your right fist becoming a palm and arcing along with the saber. See photo 5a:

再由左手將刀交於右手,復轉馬為左登山步,右刀平推與左上掌齊出,如『定式圖』。
Then your left hand sends the saber into your right hand and you switch back to a left mountain-climbing stance as your right hand pushes out the saber, the blade horizontal, your left hand going out at the same time. See photo 5b:

功用:
Application:
我已將刀交於右手,即是凖備作戰之暗示也,彼即自我頂上殺來一棍或一槍,我乃用左掌朝上迎之,右刀向其中部推出,使彼不及收械迎禦也。
Once I have switched the saber into my right hand, this means I am ready for combat. An opponent uses a staff or spear to smash onto my headtop, so I send my left palm upward to block it while my right hand sends my saber pushing outward to his middle area, leaving him unable to withdraw his weapon in time to defend against it.

第六式 拉刀收步式
Posture 6: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,原步不變,左掌向前,右刀自前經過面前拉向背部,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 6a:

再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀,刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上,左掌化刁手往後抅去,如『定式圖』。
Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 6b:

功用:
Application:
彼擬用長械迫我,我先用左手刁去來械,復以右刀自上而下,以資掩護,亦可作劈擊來械之用也。
An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.

第七式 竄跳囘身式
Posture 7: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先將右脚開往東方如登山步,刀與左刁手畧掠開,目注視西後方,如「過渡式圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 7a:

再原式不變疾跳過西後方,如『定式圖』。
Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 7b and 7c:

功用:
Application:
不論已否扣得來械,我皆向後撤退,以便靜觀其變,俟機出擊是也。
Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.

第八式 拉刀藏刀式
Posture 8: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,刀與手不變,先進左脚,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 8a:

再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚,左刁手仍抅後,刀則沿右膝部殺落,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 8b:

左手與步不變,刀循前下方繞過背部,右手直舉,如「過渡式丙圖」。
With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 8c:

乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳,以成左跨虎之勢,刀則轉過左肩斜向前落,落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如『定式圖』。
Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 8d:

功用:
Application:
此式合卸步,提腿,蹤跳,攔刀,撇刀,拉刀等為一式,若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。
This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.

第九式 出步劈刀式
Posture 9: STEP OUT, CHOPPING

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,出右脚以成右登山步,刀自後向前劈去,再轉歸左方,左手則貼腕助之,如『定式圖』。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot goes out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops out forward from the rear and follows through by arcing across to the left, your left hand touching your [right] wrist to assist. See photo 9:

功用:
Application:
彼械直刺我中門,我即用橫刀殺消之。
The opponent’s weapon stabs to my middle area, so I send my saber across to smash it away.

第十式 跟步軋刀式
Posture 10: FOLLOWING STEP, ROLLING THE SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,左右脚不變,祗向一標,以成騎馬式,刀與掌同時向前後一分,如『定式圖』。
Continuing from the previous posture, your feet maintain their position and you simply dart forward to make a horse-riding stance, the saber and palm spreading apart forward and back. See photo 10:

功用:
Application:
彼械為我刀殺去,或為彼漏去,我皆復跟步進馬順刀劈之,斯為刀法之正着,抑亦與上式有連貫之作用也。
The opponent’s weapon has been smashed aside by my saber, or he has retreated, so I follow him by advancing into a horse-riding stance with my saber chopping out. This is a direct saber action and follows on from the previous posture to form a continuous technique.

第十一式 抱頭攔刀式
Posture 11: WRAPPING AROUND THE HEAD, SLASHING

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先提左後脚,刀自前轉後斜掛左肩之上,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first lift your left foot as the saber arcs to the rear to hang diagonally over your left shoulder. See photo 11a:

再以站地之脚,循左方移動,轉後反以後刀作前,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then pivot to the left on your standing foot to bring the saber from the rear to the front. See photo 11b:

再落右脚以成左登山式,刀由背後繞過再橫轉於前,如『定式圖』。
Then your right [left] foot comes down to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber passes behind your back and arcs across in front of you. See photo 11c:

功用:
Application:
彼繞過我背後實施襲擊,我即以刀掩護隨之而轉動,經一迎後再用橫刀法砍殺之。
The opponent slips around behind me to make a surprise attack, so I use my saber to shield myself as I pivot around to face him and then slash across at him.

第十二式 拉刀收步式
Posture 12: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,原步不變,左掌向前,右刀自前經過面前拉向背部,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 12a:

再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀,刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上,左掌化刁手往後抅去,如『定式圖』。
Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 12b:

功用:
Application:
彼擬用長械迫我,我先用左手刁去來械,復以右刀自上而下,以資掩護,亦可作劈擊來械之用也。
An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.

第十三式 竄跳囘身式
Posture 13: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先將右脚開往東方如登山步,刀與左刁手畧掠開,目注視西後方,如「過渡式圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 13a:

再原式不變疾跳過西後方,如『定式圖』。
Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 13b and 13c:

功用:
Application:
不論已否扣得來械,我皆向後撤退,以便靜觀其變,俟機出擊是也。
Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.

第十四式 拉刀藏刀式
Posture 14: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,刀與手不變,先進左脚,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 14a:

再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚,左刁手仍抅後,刀則沿右膝部殺落,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 14b:

左手與步不變,刀循前下方繞過背部,右手直舉,如「過渡式丙圖」。
With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 14c:

乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳,以成左跨虎之勢,刀則轉過左肩斜向前落,落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如『定式圖』。
Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 14d:

功用:
Application:
此式合卸步,提腿,蹤跳,攔刀,撇刀,拉刀等為一式,若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。
This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.

第十五式 拉刀坐盤式
Posture 15: PULLING THE SABER, SITTING TWISTED STANCE

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,出右脚以成右登山式,刀自後向前劈,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot steps out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops forward from behind. See photo 15a:

再原步不變將刀拉過右後方,左掌仍貼右腕,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then with your stance not changing, pull the saber through to the right rear, your left palm staying at your right wrist. See photo 15b:

再蹤身一跳,以成坐盤之勢,刀自右肩過左肩,沿左臂直落,左手化成刁手,以襯托刀背,如『定式圖』。
Then your body hops into a sitting twisted stance [i.e. your left foot going forward, then your right foot doing a stealth step behind it] as the saber goes past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and lowers along your left arm, your left hand becoming a hooking hand, the arm propping up the back of the saber. See photo 15c:

功用:
Application:
我旣已劈消來械,再進而坐盤以刀攔砍之。
Having chopped away an incoming weapon, I then advance into a sitting twisted stance while slashing with my saber.

第十六式 拉刀藏刀式
Posture 16: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION

說明:
Explanation:
循坐盤步向右轉,刀掠起至肩齊為止,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continue from the sitting twisted stance by turning around to the right as the saber sweeps across and rises to shoulder level. See photo 16a:

再全身躍起變成向南之左跨虎步,刀自右肩轉過左肩,沿左臂之上削出,左掌則自刀背穿出,如『定式圖』。
Then your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance facing toward the south as the saber arcs past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and then slices out over your left arm, your left palm shooting out from the back of the saber. See photo 16b:

功用:
Application:
與第八,第十四等式同,祗差方向耳。
Same as in Postures 8 and 14, except that the orientation is different.

第十七式 抱頭攔刀式
Posture 17: WRAPPING AROUND THE HEAD, SLASHING

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先提左脚,刀向額上舉起,左掌貼腕,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first lift your left foot as you lift the saber toward your forehead, your left palm touching your [right] wrist. See photo 17a:

再落下左脚,以成左登山式,刀由背後轉而過於面前,橫殺而出,如『定式圖』。
Then your left foot comes down to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber arcs around behind your back and goes out in front of you, smashing across. See photo 17b:

功用:
Application:
與第十一式同,祗方向之異耳。
Same as in Posture 11, except that the orientation is different.

第十八式 囘身掠翅式
Posture 18: TURN AROUND, SPREADING WINGS

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,步由左登山向後轉為右登山式,刀與手皆由後轉前向左右掠開,手與刀俱平正為合,如『定式圖』
Continuing from the previous posture, pivot to the rear to switch from a left mountain-climbing stance to a right mountain-climbing stance while the saber and your left hand arc forward from behind and spread open to the sides. The hand and saber should be spread equally. See photo 18:

功用:
Application:
彼械自我後進擊,我為求迅予抵禦計,乃原步化後作前,同時以手與刀左右分之。
An opponent’s weapon attacks me from behind, so I seek to quickly defend against it by staying where I am and changing the rear into the front while spreading to the sides with my left hand and my saber.

第十九式 順步軋刀式
Posture 19: SLIDING STEP, ROLLING THE SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先拉起右脚如跨虎步之狀,刀往後拖去,如「過渡式用圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first pull back your right foot, almost making a sitting-tiger stance as the saber pulls to the rear. See photo 19a:

復借拉步而往前標去,以成右登山步,刀自後反刀鋒向上軋出,如『定式圖』。
Then make use of the reversal of momentum of the foot pulling back to dart forward into a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber goes out from the rear, rolling over so the edge is turned upward. See photo 19b:

功用:
Application:
我先拖歸後者是卸其勢,再軋出則是順而反撩之法也。
I first pull to the rear with a withdrawing action, then send out the saber rolling over into a raising action.

第二十式 囘身劈刀式
Posture 20: TURNING THE BODY, CHOP

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,原步原刀不變,祗左手以刁手法往後刁去,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your stance and the position of the saber do not change as your left hand becomes a hooking hand and hooks away to the rear. See photo 20a:

再原步轉歸後方以成左登山式,刀自後反身由上劈落,左手化掌力托之,如『定式圖』。
Then your feet turn to the rear while staying in their location, making a left mountain-climbing stance, as the saber goes from behind you and chops down from above, your left hand changing to a palm and forcefully propping it up [i.e. slapping against your right wrist]. See photo 20b:

功用:
Application:
彼自我後劈來一械,我先以刁手斜刁之,再囘身用劈殺法迎頭砍之。
An opponent’s weapon chops at me from behind, so I first use a hooking hand to diagonally hook it aside, then turn my body and chop to his head.

第二十一式 撩刀提劈式
Posture 21: RAISING CUT, LIFTING INTO A CHOP

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,原步仍未變,祗身畧轉過右後方,刀亦隨身轉上為下,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your stance does not change, but your body slightly turns to the right rear, the saber going along with your body by arcing downward from above. See photo 21a:

再踏右脚,進左脚以成騎馬式,刀隨步轉而歸後,左掌以揷掌法撑出且注以目,如『定式圖』。
Then your right foot stomps and your left foot advances to make a horse-riding stance as the saber arcs to the rear, your left hand going out as a charging palm, your gaze following it. See photo 21b:

功用:
Application:
彼械擬向我膝部點來,我先用下撩之法,再轉馬迎胸以掌揷進焉。
An opponent [from behind] tries to use his weapon to do a tapping attack to my [right] knee, so I first send a raising action against it from below, then switch to a horse-riding stance and attack with a charging palm to his chest.

第二十二式 上步軋刀式
Posture 22: STEP FORWARD, ROLLING THE SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,進右脚以成右登山式,刀自後下方直向前上撩出,如『定式圖』。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot advances to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber goes from the rear, downward, forward, and upward to go out with a raising action. See photo 22:

功用:
Application:
與第十九式同。
Same as in Posture 19.

第二十三式 掛刀蓋刀式
Posture 23: HANGING & COVERING

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先提右前脚,刀往後收,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot lifts as the saber withdraws. See photo 23a:

再乘提步之便全身躍起,落下時乃成左跨虎步,刀轉成橫壓而下,左手按於刀背之上,如『定式圖』。
Then go along with the momentum of the leg lifting by hopping [forward] and coming down into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs across and presses down, your left hand pushing on the back of the saber. See photo 23b:

功用:
Application:
彼械自我下刺來,我先以刀背掛去之,再乘躍進時更以刀橫壓之。
The opponent’s weapon stabs to my lower area, so I first use the back of my saber to hang it aside, then hop forward and press down with my saber placed sideways.

第二十四式 踏步攔腰式
Posture 24: STOMP, SLASH TO THE WAIST

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先放下前脚,手與刀同時向頭上舉起,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first put your front foot down as your left hand and the saber lift above your head. See photo 24a:

再踏後脚,進前脚以成左登山式,刀自左方轉過背後,再向前橫殺去,如『定式圖』。
Then your rear foot stomps and your front foot advances to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber arcs from the left, passing behind your back, and smashes across in front of you. See photo 24b:

功用:
Application:
與十一式,十七式等同。
Same as in Postures 11 and 17.

第二十五式 拉刀收步式
Posture 25: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP

說明:
Explanation:
循上左,原步不變,左掌向前,右刀自前經過面前拉向背部,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 25a:

再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀,刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上,左掌化刁手往後抅去,如「定式圖」。
Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 25b:

功用:
Application:
彼擬用長械迫我,我先用左手刁去來械,復以右刀自上而下,以資掩護,亦可作劈擊來械之用也。
An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.

第二十六式 竄跳囘身式
Posture 26: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先將右脚開往東方如登山步,刀與左刁手畧掠開,目注視西後方,如「過渡式圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 26a:

再原式不變疾跳過西後方,如「定式圖」。
Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 26b and 26c:

功用:
Application:
不論已否扣得來械,我皆向後撤退,以便靜觀其變,俟機出擊是也。
Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.

第二十七式 拉刀坐盤式
Posture 27: PULLING THE SABER, SITTING TWISTED STANCE

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,原步不變,刀自左方拉過右方,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, pull the saber across from left to right. See photo 27a:

再全身躍起以成坐盤步,刀自右肩轉過左肩,再沿左臂直落,左刁手托於刀背之中段,如『定式圖』。
Then your body hops into a sitting twisted stance [i.e. your left foot going forward, then your right foot doing a stealth step behind it] as the saber arcs past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and lowers along your left arm, your left hand becoming a hooking hand, the arm propping up the middle section of the back of the saber. See photo 27b:

功用:
Application:
當我正自前方撤退之時,迎面忽來另一敵人,於是我乃以拉刀坐盤法以抑制之。
While retreating away from one opponent, I am suddenly faced with another, so I use this technique of pulling my saber while going into a sitting twisted stance in order to control him.

第二十八式 獻刀藏刀式
Posture 28: SHOWING AND THEN HIDING THE SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,原步不變,祗高起偸步式,手與刀俱掠起,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, rise up high in your stealth-step position as your left hand and the saber spread apart and rise up. See photo 28a:

再右後脚抽出,繞過面前,刀則攔於左上方,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then your right foot draws out from behind and arcs around in front of you as the saber blocks to the upper left. See photo 28b:

再乘提右脚之勢跳往左方,再成為狀類左登山式之右吞塌式,刀自背繞過面前,復收於左腰腋之間,目向後注視,如『定式圖』。
Then take advantage of the momentum of your right foot lifting by hopping to the left to make a right absorb & sink stance, similar to a left mountain-climbing stance [except that you are looking to the rear], as the saber arcs around past your back and in front of you to withdraw to the area between your left armpit and your waist. Your gaze is behind you. See photo 28c:

功用:
Application:
彼械擬自我斜方攻來,我即轉身易步用提與攔劈之方式抵禦之。
An opponent’s weapon tries to attack me from an angle, so I turn to face him while shifting my stance, using a technique of lifting and slashing to defend against it.

第二十九式 拉刀藏刀式
Posture 29: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,刀與手不變,先進左脚,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 29a:

再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚,左刁手仍抅後,刀則沿右膝部殺落,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 29b:

左手與步不讓,刀循前下方繞過背部,右手直舉,如「過渡式丙圖」。
With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 29c:

乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳,以成左跨虎之勢,刀則轉過左左肩斜向前落,落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如「定式圖」
Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 29d:

功用:
Application:
此式合卸步,提腿,蹤跳,攔刀,撇刀,拉刀等為一式,若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。
This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.

第三十式 劈刀軋刀式
Posture 30: CHOPPING & ROLLING

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先出右脚以成右登山步,刀自後劈出,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot goes out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops out from the rear. See photo 30a:

再轉步為騎馬式,刀自面前斜方向直綫劈出,如『定式圖』。
Then switch to a horse-riding stance as the saber moves diagonally from in front of you to chop out straight ahead. See photo 30b:

功用:
Application:
介乎第九第十式之間,抑亦為聯合之法也。
Same as in Postures 9 and 10, combined into a single technique.

第三十一式 掛刀掛劍式
Posture 31: HANGING THE SABER TO HANG ASIDE A SWORD

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先提右脚,刀往左後方平收,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot lifts as the saber withdraws across to the left rear. See photo 31a:

步仍不變,刀由後轉前,反刀鋒為向上,如「過渡式乙圖」。
With your stance not changing, the saber arcs forward from the rear, turning over so the edge is facing upward. See photo 31b:

然後向前跳去,以成坐盤之勢,刀由上橫殺而落,左掌按於刀背之上,如『定式』。
Then you hop out forward to make a sitting twisted stance as the saber smashes down from above with the blade going across, your left hand pushing on the back of the saber. See photo 31c:

功用:
Application:
我提步收刀者,是將來刀掛開,再反出者亦為掛刀之一法,再進馬坐盤橫壓刀者,則是蓋去來劍之法。
When I lift a leg and withdraw my saber, this is a means of hanging aside an incoming weapon. When I then turn the saber over, this is also a method of hanging. When I then advance into sitting twisted while pressing my saber across, this is a method of covering an incoming sword.

第三十二式 囘身劈刀式
Posture 32: TURNING THE BODY, CHOP

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,退右脚以成騎馬式,刀隨而平殺過後方,如「定式圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot retreats to make a horse-riding stance as the saber smashes across to the rear. See photo 32:

功用:
Application:
與廿一式圖同。
Same as in Posture 21.

第三十三式 上步軋刀式
Posture 33: STEP FORWARD, ROLLING THE SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,進右脚以成右登山式,刀自後下方直向前上撩出,如「定式圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot advances to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber goes from the rear, downward, forward, and upward to go out with a raising action. See photo 33:

功用:
Application:
與二十二式同。
Same as in Posture 22.

第三十四式 踏步劈刀式
Posture 34: STOMPING STEP, CHOPPING

說明:
Explanation:
循上式原步不動,刀向後斜收,左手向前刁去,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, the saber withdraws diagonally to the rear while your left hand goes forward, hooking away. See photo 34a:

再踏右脚,進左脚以成左登山式,左刁手拉歸後,而刀則向前直劈去,如「定式圖」。
Then your right foot stomps and your left foot advances to make a left mountain-climbing stance as your left hooking hand pulls back behind you and the saber chops out forward with the blade standing straight up. See photo 34b:

功用:
Application:
彼欲以械擊我頭部,我先以左手刁去之,再乘踏步進馬,以直劈刀兜頭劈之。
The opponent tries to use his weapon to strike to my head, so I first use my left hand to hook it away, then stomp and advance while using my saber to chop to his face.

第三十伍式 扑刀推刀式
Posture 35: REACHING-LEG STANCE, PUSHING THE SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,左右脚不變原來位置,祗由登山式往後扑成扑腿法耳!刀亦隨步而下,左掌刀托於右腕之內,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your feet stay in their location and you simply shift back to the rear, going from a mountain-climbing stance to a reaching-leg stance, the saber going along with this stance change by coming down, your left hand propping up at the inside of your right wrist. See photo 35a:

再提起右脚,左掌移開以托刀背,刀斜舉向外,如『定式圖』。
Then your right foot lifts and your left hand shifts away to prop up the back of the saber as the saber goes outward, raising diagonally. See photo 35b:

功用:
Application:
彼械迎頭劈落,我先扑腿以卸其勢,復跟刀推出逼之。
The opponent’s weapon chops down toward my head, so I first go into a reaching-leg stance in order to withdraw away from it, then I follow this by pushing out with the saber to crowd him.

第三十六式 提步劈刀式
Posture 36: CHOPPING WITH A LEG LIFTED

〔說明:〕
[Explanation:]
循上式,以小跳換步法,使右脚着地而起左脚,刀自前往後直劈,左掌橫遮於頭上,如『定式圖』。
Continuing from the previous posture, do a small hop to switch feet, bringing your right foot down and lifting your left foot, as the saber chops from the front to the rear, your left palm blocking across above your head. See photo 36:

功用:
Application:
我逼彼走過後方或另一人自後攻來,我不俟其逼近即先以刀兜頭劈之。
I crowd the opponent as he passes around behind me, or another opponent attacks from behind, so without waiting for him to get close, I pre-empt him by chopping to his head.

第三十七式 迎門刺劍式
Posture 37: STABBING STRAIGHT AHEAD LIKE A SWORD

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先左脚落地,刀斜掛於前,如「過渡式甲圖」
Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot comes down and the saber hangs diagonally in front of you. See photo 37a:

再原刀不動,右脚進前,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then with the saber maintaining its position, your right foot advances. See photo 37b:

左脚自後進前以成坐盤步,刀則緊收於胸腹之間,如「過渡式丙圖」。
Your left foot advances behind you [i.e. does a stealth step] to make a sitting twisted stance as the saber withdraws until between your chest and belly. See photo 37c:

再原步不變,刀自胸前直流而出,掌則橫掠於上,如『定式圖』。
With your stance not changing, the saber flows straight out from in front of your chest, as your left palm spreads away upward to the side. See photo 37d [same position as in photo 4b of Sundial Sword, except with the edge turned upward]:

功用:
Application:
分圖多,是因易於學習耳!其用時合數動作於一。實集,挑,迎,封,閉,刺於其中矣。
This technique is divided into so many photos just to make it easier for you to follow. It contains several aspects in application – such as gathering, carrying, blocking, sealing, and stabbing – but is really just a single technique.

第三十八式 跟馬三刀式
Posture 38: FOLLOWING STEPS WITH THREE SABER ACTIONS [the third occurring in the following posture]

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先提起左脚,繼而伸直右手以舉直刀,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first lift your left foot as your right hand raises the saber. See photo 38a:

再原步不變,刀由右繞過背部,再經胸前而復返於下,左掌則抺刀背而出,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then with your stance not changing, the saber arcs from the right, going around your back, passes in front of your chest, and then goes back downward as your left palm goes out wiping along the back of the saber. See photo 38b:

再落左脚換提右脚,復將刀拉起,如「過渡式丙圖」
Then your left foot comes down and you switch to lifting your right foot as you again pull the saber up. See photo 38c:

再原步不動,刀再循背部拉前,後歸於後下方,左掌穿出至直,如『定式圖』。
Then with your stance not changing, the saber again goes around your back, is pulled in front of you, and returns downward to the rear as your left palm shoots out. See photo 38d:

功用:
Application:
提步攔刀實對中下路之攻勢為有效之遏止方法,左右相轉者乃使知左右合一之方式而已。
Lifting a leg and slashing with the saber is a very effective method of dealing with an attack to the middle or lower area. Switching my legs allows me to feel more confident that I am protecting myself on both sides.

第三十九式 扑腿扑刀式
Posture 39: REACHING-LEG STANCE, POUNCING SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先原步不動,再次將刀舉起,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, again lift up the saber. See photo 39a:

然後以小跳方式向前落下以成扑腿勢,刀亦隨步繞過背部再轉於前落下,左掌直出,如『定式圖』。
Then do a little hop forward and dropping down to make a reaching-leg stance as the saber arcs past your back, forward, and downward, your left palm going straight out. See photo 39b:

功用:
Application:
彼以下三路搶進,我即落馬用刀封閉之。
The opponent uses his spear to attack my lower area for the third time, so I drop my stance and use my saber to seal off his weapon.

第四十式 囘身削櫈式
Posture 40: TURN AROUND, SLICE THROUGH A STOOL

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先將左脚拉起以成類於登山勢,刀乃隨之起至頭上,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot pulls back and you rise to almost make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber going along with this action by rising above your head. See photo 40a:

再起右後脚,使全身向左轉過後方,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then your right foot lifts and you pivot your whole body to the left until facing to the rear. See photo 40b:

落右脚以成騎馬式,刀繞過背後復轉平殺而出,左掌倚右肩之上,如『定式圖』。
Your right foot comes down to make a horse-riding stance as the saber arcs around behind you and smashes across [to the left], your left palm going over your right shoulder. See photo 40c:

功用:
Application:
此削櫈法乃專砍殺步馬為主旨對方欲自我後擊入,我乃採此以砍其足也。
The main purpose of this action of “slicing through a stool” is to destroy an opponent’s stance. An opponent is about to attack me from behind, so I make use of this technique to slash at his leg.

第四十一式 扑腿扑刀式
Posture 41: REACHING-LEG STANCE, POUNCING SABER

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先原步不動,再次將刀舉起,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, again lift up the saber. See photo 41a:

然後以小跳方式向前落下以成扑腿勢,刀亦隨步繞過背都再轉於前落下,左掌直出,如『定式圖』。
Then do a little hop forward and dropping down to make a reaching-leg stance as the saber arcs past your back, forward, and downward, your left palm going straight out. See photo 41b:

功用:
Application:
彼以下三路搶進,我即落馬用刀封閉之。
The opponent again uses his spear to attack my lower area, so I again drop my stance and use my saber to seal off his weapon.

第四十二式 上步攔腰式
Posture 42: STEP FORWARD, SLASH TO THE WAIST

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先起左脚以成如登山之勢,將刀橫架而起,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your left leg rises to almost make a mountain-climbing stance as you send the saber upward and blocking across. See photo 42a:

再進右脚轉身乃成成左登山式,刀自背後橫過而前,如『定式圖」。
Then your right foot advances and your body turns around to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber passes behind your back and goes across in front of you. See photo 42b:

功用:
Application:
與十七、二十四等同。
Same as in Postures 17 and 24.

第四十三式 拉刀收步式
Posture 43: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP

說明:
Explanation:
循上左,原步不變,左掌向前,右刀目前經過面前拉向背部,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 43a:

再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀,刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上,左掌化刁手往後抅去,如「定式圖」。
Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 43b:

功用:
Application:
彼擬用長械迫我,我先用左手刁去來械,復以右刀自上而下,以資掩護,亦可作劈擊來械之用也。
An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.

第四十四式 竄跳囘身式
Posture 44: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先將右脚開往東方如登山步,刀與左刁手畧掠開,目注視西後方,如「過渡式圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 44a:

再原式不變疾跳過西後方,如「定式圖」。
Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 44b and 44c:

功用:
Application:
不論已否扣得來械,我皆向後撤退,以便靜觀其變,俟機出擊是也。
Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.

第四十五式 拉刀藏刀式
Posture 45: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,刀與手不變,先進左脚,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 45a:

再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚,左刁手仍抅後,刀則沿右膝部殺落,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 45b:

左手與步不讓,刀循前下方繞過背部,右手直舉,如「過渡式丙圖」。
With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 45c:

乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳,以成左跨虎之勢,刀則轉過左左肩斜向前落,落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如「定式圖」
Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 45d:

功用:
Application:
此式合卸步,提腿,蹤跳,攔刀,撇刀,拉刀等為一式,若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。
This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.

第四十六式 拉刀坐盤式
Posture 46: PULLING THE SABER, SITTING TWISTED STANCE

說明:
Explanation:
循上左,出右脚以成右登山式,刀自後向前劈,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot steps out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops forward from behind. See photo 46a:

再原步不變將刀拉過右後方,左掌仍貼右腕如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then with your stance not changing, pull the saber through to the right rear, your left palm staying at your right wrist. See photo 46b:

再蹤身一跳,以成坐盤之勢,刀自右肩過左肩,沿左臂直落,左手化成刁手,以襯托刀背,如「定式圖」。
Then your body hops into a sitting twisted stance [i.e. your left foot going forward, then your right foot doing a stealth step behind it] as the saber goes past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and lowers along your left arm, your left hand becoming a hooking hand, the arm propping up the back of the saber. See photo 46c:

功用:
Application:
我旣已劈消來械,再進而坐盤以刀攔砍之。
Having chopped away an incoming weapon, I then advance into a sitting twisted stance while slashing with my saber.

第四十七式 中門攔刀式
Posture 47: SLASHING AROUND THE MIDDLE

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,由右轉以成為登山之狀,刀則隨身而轉,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, pivot around to the right to almost make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber arcing along with the turning of your body. See photo 47a:

再將左脚自右脚之前偸過右前方,刀則撇上,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then your left foot does a stealth step forward to the right, passing in front of your right foot, as the saber swings upward. See photo 47b:

再將右脚移往右方,刀則由背部繞過左肩之上,如「過渡式丙圖」。
Then your right foot shifts to the right as the saber arcs around your back to be over your left shoulder. See photo 47c:

再拉起右脚以成左跨虎步,刀再往右上方掠起,如「定式圖」。
Then pull back your right [left] foot to make a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber sweeps upward to the right. See photo 47d:

功用:
Application:
此是專破上門攻來之械,繞行數步者是趨避之法也。
This technique focuses on ruining the attack of incoming weapon to my upper area. The arcing steps are a method of evading.

第四十八式 左門攔刀式
Posture 48: SLASHING TO THE LEFT

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先將左脚往左方移開以成如登山之勢,刀自上劈落以交於前,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot shifts out to the left to almost make a mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops downward from above to go across in front of you. See photo 48a:

再進右脚,刀向上畧舉高,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then your right foot advances as the saber slightly rises up. See photo 48b:

再進左脚,刀循左肩經背部繞過右肩之上,如「過渡式丙圖」。
Then your left foot advances as the saber arcs from your left shoulder around your back and over your right shoulder. See photo 48c:

再進右脚以成右跨虎步,刀自右肩劈過左腰之下,如「定式圖」。
Then your right foot advances to make a right sitting-tiger stance as the saber chops downward from your right shoulder past the left side of your waist. See photo 48d:

功用:
Application:
與四十七式同祗方向之異耳。
Same as in Posture 47, except going in the opposite direction.

第四十九式 右門攔刀式
Posture 49: SLASHING TO THE RIGHT

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,右脚先向右移動,刀由下而掠高於右,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot shifts to the right as the saber sweeps upward to the right from below. See photo 49a:

再過左脚於前方,刀自右繞過背部而復轉於前,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then your left foot goes forward as the saber again arcs from the right to go around your back and in front of you. See photo 49b:

再進右脚,刀由上而落,如「過渡式丙圖」。
Then your right foot advances as the saber lowers from above. See photo 49c:

左脚再斜步進前以成跨虎之勢,刀由下復上以成刀與步之斜式,如「定式圖」。
Then your left foot advances diagonally to make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber again goes upward from below so that both the saber and the stance are in diagonal positions. See photo 49d:

功用:
Application:
與四十七、四十八同,祗斜正及方向之別耳。
Same as in Postures 47 and 48, except going diagonally in a different direction.

第五十式 上步攔腰式
Posture 50: STEP FORWARD, SLASH TO THE WAIST

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先起左脚以成如登山之勢,將刀橫架而起,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your left leg rises to almost make a mountain-climbing stance as you send the saber upward and blocking across. See photo 50a:

再進右脚轉身乃成成左登山式,刀自背後橫過而前,如『定式圖」。
Then your right foot advances and your body turns around to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber passes behind your back and goes across in front of you. See photo 50b:

功用:
Application:
與十七、二十四等同。
Same as in Postures 17 and 24.

第五十一式 拉刀收步式
Posture 51: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP

說明:
Explanation:
循上左,原步不變,左掌向前,右刀目前經過面前拉向背部,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 51a:

再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀,刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上,左掌化刁手往後抅去,如「定式圖」。
Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 51b:

功用:
Application:
彼擬用長械迫我,我先用左手刁去來械,復以右刀自上而下,以資掩護,亦可作劈擊來械之用也。
An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.

第五十二式 竄跳囘身式
Posture 52: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先將右脚開往東方如登山步,刀與左刁手畧掠開,目注視西後方,如「過渡式圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 52a:

再原式不變疾跳過西後方,如「定式圖」。
Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 52b and 52c:

功用:
Application:
不論已否扣得來械,我皆向後撤退,以便靜觀其變,俟機出擊是也。
Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.

第五十三式 拉刀藏刀式
Posture 53: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,刀與手不變,先進左脚,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 53a:

再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚,左刁手仍抅後,刀則沿右膝部殺落,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 53b:

左手與步不讓,刀循前下方繞過背部,右手直舉,如「過渡式丙圖」。
With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 53c:

乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳,以成左跨虎之勢,刀則轉過左左肩斜向前落,落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如「定式圖」
Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 53d:

功用:
Application:
此式合卸步,提腿,蹤跳,攔刀,撇刀,拉刀等為一式,若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。
This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.

第五十四式 踏步劈刀式
Posture 54: STOMPING STEP, CHOPPING

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,右後脚用力踏地求與前左脚相貼,再以左掌加於右腕內齊向上舉起,如「過式渡甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot forcefully stomps the ground right in front of your left foot as your right hand raises up, your left palm going to the inside of your right wrist. See photo 54a:

再開進左脚以成左登山式,刀自背後直砍而出,左掌則橫架於頂如「定式圖」。
Then your left foot advances to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops out from behind you, your left palm blocking across above your head. See photo 54b:

功用:
Application:
來械直向我面部刺來,我先以刀橫去之,再乘勢以直劈法還擊彼面部焉。
An incoming weapon is stabbing to my head, so I first use my saber to send it aside, then follow through with the motion by doing a chop straight ahead to counterattack to the opponent’s face.

第五十五式 拉刀四平式
Posture 55: PULLING THE SABER, FOUR-LEVEL POSTURE

說明:
Explanation:
循上式,先提右脚,刀沿脚傍撇下,左掌仍不動,如「過渡式甲圖」。
Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot lifts as the saber swings downward beside the foot, your left palm not moving. See photo 55a:

再原步不動,刀從下轉上以加於左臂之上,如「過渡式乙圖」。
Then with your stance not changing, the saber arcs upward from below to go on top of your left arm. See photo 55b:

再原步不動,左手捧囘原刀,左掌向大腿處拍落,如「過渡式丙圖」。
Then with your stance still not changing, your left hand holds the saber as it did at the beginning and your left [right] palm comes down, slapping your [right] thigh. See photo 55c:

再退提起之脚以成左跨虎步,右掌轉而向上橫架於頭頂,左手刀向後斜拖,如「定式圖」。
Then your lifted leg retreats to make a left sitting-tiger stance as your right palm arcs upward to block across above your headtop, your left hand pulling back the saber until it is diagonal behind you. See photo 55d:

斯為收式之刀法,全刀五十五式至此已還復本來面目。
This is the closing posture of the saber set, bringing you back to your original position and facing the same direction as before.

– – –

[Included below is a related piece from Huang’s Notes on the Mantis Boxing Art (1951).]

單刀搜秘
SECRETS OF THE SINGLE SABER

昔者武壇多譽先師全才,蓋先師當日除擅拳法、鐵砂掌外,各種武器靡不精研,尤以單刀一類有所獨到,唯不趨尚時髦、討好觀衆,雜以滾地等動作,謹守武術界之尊嚴,余習藝時曾蒙以十法見示,十法者劈、軋、抅、掛、削、拍、挑、撩、搜、撈是也。考刀術為各種武器中之最繁雜之一,唐以前用刀者俱為長桿子之大砍刀(即俗稱之大關刀),此名之由來,實因武聖用刀且姓關之故,至宋室中葉,水滸英雄武松與浪子燕靑俱以步戰馳譽,前者固以行者棒號稱天下莫敵,後者却以單刀得名,故至今有燕靑單刀之技傳於世。
大砍刀、單刀、斬馬刀之外尚有雙刀,世人不察每以雙刀比單為難,其實雙刀之為用,祗兩手平均、步法靈活便可運用自如,其法甚簡單而已。
單刀看手一語,為單刀之心法,亦為單刀中之至難安置之處,試觀夫稍懂一、二者常自詡為精於單刀法,然其演習時又常常刀與手脫節,全不注重刀與手之配合,其能謂之於精乎,即為舞台上當生旦對答之時正在悠揚悅耳之表情與動作同時演出,使觀衆全神灌注,當斯時也甚少人注視其背後所飾演之童僕之形狀,若空無所握之左手即等於童僕耳,若不有所動作便形同虛設,更且陷於本身痲痺之狀,若說實用更無所扶襯相托矣。
練刀之法除刀與手互相動作毋使一方有所停滯之外,尚須刀與身貼,步隨勢移方為刀之正法,刀如猛虎一語實形容其勢雄猛之處,又曰拼命用單刀之說,凡以單刀臨陣應敵者苟存恐懼之心,無不為敵所敗,蓋單刀為短兵刃,若與長兵械相接,其勢固拙,瑟縮不前者必為長械所乘無疑,但立拼命之心長者為我所接,則我一躍而前,長短之勢有所平合,勝敗之機互握半數,若更因勢利導,緊握時機,敵為我乘,則其敗立判矣,今之練刀者苟能髓味斯旨,距成功之域近矣。
Master Luo’s versatility was often praised in martial arts circles. Beyond his mastery of boxing methods and iron palm skills, he had intensively studied various kinds of weapons, becoming uniquely adept at the single saber in particular. But as he did not care about what was popular or what would impress an audience, he did not mix in tricks like rolling around on the ground, concerned only with preserving the dignity of the martial arts world. When I learned this art, it was presented to me as being comprised of ten techniques: chopping, rolling, hooking, hanging, slicing, patting, carrying, raising, searching, and scooping.
  Examining the saber arts shows it to be one of the most varied of the many weapons. Prior to the Tang Dynasty, the “sabers” used were all long-pole large cleaving sabers, what is commonly called the large “Guan Saber”, so named because it was used by the martial sage Guan Yu. During the middle period of the Song Dynasty, “The Pilgrim” Wu Song and “The Wanderer” Yan Qing, heroic characters from The Water Margin, both became famous for their martial deeds. The former used a staff, with which he was considered to be invincible, while the latter became known for his use of the single saber, after which is named the “Yan Qing’s Single Saber” set that has been passed down to us to this day. Beyond the large cleaving saber, single saber, and horse-slashing saber, there is also the double sabers. Most people do not scrutinize and simply assume that the double sabers are more difficult than the single saber. Using the double sabers is actually only a matter of both hands working evenly and the feet stepping nimbly, and then you will be able to wield them smoothly. Its techniques are really very simple.
  There is a saying: “With the single saber, be mindful of your other hand.” This is a core principle of the single saber, as well as the most difficult aspect of it. Observe someone who understands the art very little and yet often brags that he is an expert at the single saber. When he performs, his saber and left hand constantly lose coordination between each other, and he never pays attention to having cooperation between them. How could he be considered an expert? When a dancer on a stage begins to sing, and her sweet singing is performed in tandem with her movements, the audience becomes rapt with attention. In that moment, very few people would notice the stagehands in the background. If the saber practitioner’s left hand is so uninvolved that it becomes like one of those invisible stagehands, or if it is moving with so little purpose that it almost turns into some paralyzed appendage, then it will seem to be of no real use at all.
  When practicing the saber methods, beyond the saber and hand coordinating with each other rather than either of them becoming sluggish, the saber has to move close to the body, and the step has to shift along with the movement in order for the saber’s techniques to be precise. This saying expresses well the required quality of fearsomeness: “The saber is like a fierce tiger.” There is also this saying: “Defy death as you wield the single saber.” Whenever you use the single saber to battle against opponents, if there is fear in your heart, you will always be defeated. Because the single saber is a short weapon, if my saber connects with a long weapon, I would of course be in an awkward position. If I am then too timid to go forward, his long weapon is certain to have the advantage, but if instead I have a mentality of defying death, his long weapon will then be under my control. Therefore I charge in, leveling the odds between long and short, grasping the decisive moment between victory and defeat. Treating half a chance as more than half, I act in accordance with the situation, seize the opportunity, and take advantage of the opponent’s position, and thus his defeat becomes a more likely outcome than mine. If you modern saber practitioners can deeply think upon this point, you will be much closer to success.

Local Resistance and Guoshu: The Foshan Zhong Yi Martial Arts Athletic Association

The images in this post are taken from Daniel Mak and Alex Jung’s excellent documentary “The Origins of Macau Wing Chun.” Its well worth watching and you can read more about it here.

 

 

 

Guoshu in the Pearl River Delta

In a recent post I attempted to move away from the triumphalist rhetoric that accompanies many popular discussions of the Guoshu movement and ask how its institutional limitations (rather than its strengths) shaped the spread of Northern martial arts styles in the Pearl River Delta region during the 1920s and 1930s. That essay addressed events in one small region as in my research I have found that to really understand any social movement it is often necessary to move away from national level narratives. While helpful in understanding a movement’s goals, such discussion can obscure the reality of how reforms were actually implemented (and co-opted) at the local level. That can, in turn, lead to the uncritical acceptance of politically inflected historical narratives and a bad case of selective memory.

For instance, while investigating attempts to establish “official” Guoshu chapters in the Guangzhou area, we discovered that the success of these efforts were very much dependent on the support of the governor’s office. Yet in an era characterized by unstable and quickly shifting politics, such political alliances often proved to be a liability.  Ambitious efforts to rebuild Guangdong’s martial arts culture through legislative fiat were doomed by the KMT’s constant internal upheavals. Northern masters found considerably more success in spreading their styles once they were freed (partially) from political patronage structures and able to establish commercial schools that could compete in the economic marketplace.

This essay expands on that discussion by asking two additional questions.  First, Andrew Morris has noted that all sorts of modernizing groups (New Wushu, Jingwu, Guoshu), while typically successful in China’s major cities, tended to have trouble penetrating the countryside.  That was a significant problem as the vast majority of China’s martial artists lived far from the large cities. Given the geographic limitations of the Republic era’s hand combat reform movements, what do we see in the Guangdong case?  Was the Guoshu movement able to establish branches outside of the sophisticated and well-connected provincial capital of Guangzhou?  If so, how did these organizations function?

Our second question is closely related to the first.  Given that Guangdong had a vibrant martial arts subculture prior to the importation of the Guoshu movement in the late 1920s, in what ways did local martial arts groups attempt to resist or co-opt this new expression of Chinese identity through martial practice?  Elite reformers saw the Guoshu movement not just as a way to promote mundane public health goals. They sought to use a single, centrally controlled, program of physical training and competition to increase nationalism, militarism and loyalty to the party.  Yet the Chinese martial arts had traditionally been a vehicle for the expression of much more local and regional identities. How were local groups able to capitalize on the weakness of the Chinese state to use such centrally sponsored reform efforts for their own ends?

The following essay begins by shifting our focus away from Guangzhou to Foshan, a nearby market town and manufacturing center.  It examines the rise of the Zhong Yi Martial Arts Athletic Association. Perhaps the second most important regional martial arts organization between the 1920s and the 1940s, a close examination of developments in Foshan suggests that while the Guoshu movement looked quite strong on paper, in actual fact its unifying and centralizing agenda faced stiff opposition.  Ironically, the Guoshu label was even used to empower the sorts of local, traditional, secretive and sectarian identities which its national level rhetoric vocally opposed and claimed to have supplanted.

 

 

 

Foshan

Given Guangzhou’s status as the political capital and cultural center of Guangdong Province, it is only natural that the Central Guoshu Institute would concentrate their reform efforts there.  But how far out into the countryside did these measures penetrate?  The case of Foshan, an economically vibrant market town only a short distance from the capital, suggests the level of complexity that may have been encountered. Still, given Foshan’s wealth, rapid economic modernization and long history as a center for hand combat development, one would think that if the Guoshu movement could succeed anywhere, it would surely find a foothold here.

The development of Foshan’s “Guoshu” related efforts (and we must use that term carefully) began shortly after the failure of the Liangguang Guoshu Institute in Guangzhou (discussed here) in the 1929-1930 period. Yet rather than importing a group of distinguished Northern instructors, as the Governor did in Guangzhou, Foshan moved in a radically different direction.  Instead of creating a new organization, the locally prominent network of “Yi” schools, whose teaching curriculum focused almost entirely on Hung Gar and Wing Chun, were reorganized into something more official with closer ties to the local KMT party structure.

While much has been written about the history of both Wing Chun and Hung Gar, the social significance of the Yi network has been largely neglected in favor of more traditional lineage and instructor specific biographies. That sort of rhetoric is historically problematic as it both lends itself to hagiography and obscures the ways in which martial arts groups interacted with the larger community. In fact, even before their formalization at the end of the 1920s, the Yi network of martial arts schools were an important force in the local community and the increasingly violent debates that accompanied the emergence of an independent labor movement.

Still, it was not the largest alliance of schools and instructors in Foshan at the time.  That honor was held by the various Choy Li Fut schools organized through the Hung Sing Association.  We previously discussed the creation and significance of this group at length in our volume on the history of the Southern Chinese martial arts. For the purposes of the current argument it is enough to note that by the 1920s the Hung Sing Association was recruiting much of its membership from the ranks of Foshan’s handicraft sector and the newly emerging industrial working class. In addition to hand combat training Hung Sing also provided a means for workers to network, organize and look for employment. All of this quickly drew the association into relationships with more radical elements of the local labor movement including trade unions and organizers from the Community Party.

In contrast, the Hung Gar and Wing Chun schools organized by the Yi network often (though not always) recruited their membership from the ranks of skilled local workers or small business owners. Such individuals were better positioned to benefit from the global shifts in trade, investment and economic structure that typically threatened the livelihoods of less skilled workers. It should not be surprising to discover that many of the Yi schools were financially backed by the region’s more conservative “yellow trade unions” who opposed the types of the demands that the more radical (“red”) labor movement was making.  Indeed, the Yi Schools and the Hung Sing Association clashed (sometimes violently) throughout the 1920s. Much of what has been preserved in lineage histories as “ancient rivalries” between competing martial arts styles should probably be reframed as local expressions of the sorts of class conflict that gripped the entire industrialized world during the 1930s.  But how did the Yi Schools first emerge?

That question has proved difficult to answer as, after 1949, the Communist government classified the Zhong Yi Martial Arts Athletic Association as a violent right wing group with a “special historical background.”  As such local society went to some lengths to suppress not just the membership of the group but its historical memory as well.  Nevertheless, two local historians, Xiao Hai Ming and Zou Wen Ping, have been able to reconstruct some key facts about the organization.

During the final years of the Qing dynasty a resident of Zhangcha Village (now a part of Foshan’s urban sprawl) named Zhao Xi organized the “Xing Yi” martial arts school.  Sadly, Xiao and Zou were not able to discover much about Zhao’s background.  But it is clear that he was a Hung Gar instructor and his schools were the first in the Foshan area to bear the “Yi” suffix.  We might also surmise that Zhao was a talented businessman and he found ways to franchise and leverage his personal reputation.  Eventually six schools appeared (Yong Yi, Xiong Yi, Qun Yi, Ju Yi, and Ying Yi) all associated with the initial Xing Yi location.  This set of schools is said to have constituted the core of the larger “Yi” martial arts system.  Xiao and Zou noted that both Hung Gar and Wing Chun were taught within this network, though they were not able to reconstruct a full list of instructors.

 

 

As is typically the case, things are most opaque during the early years of the Yi network.  We have more information on events which occurred in the 1920s and 1930s.  But our best information stems from the 1940s, just prior to the victory of the CCP. As we review this period Wing Chun students may even begin to spot some familiar names. Jiu Chao (1902-1972) taught Wing Chun at the Zhong Yi Association branch located at Kuai Zi Lane after 1945.  Like Ip Man, he came from a wealthy local family.  He learned Wing Chun from Chan Yiu Min, the son of Chan Wah Shun (Ip Man’s first instructor).  Jiu also opened another martial arts school in Zhongshan and is said to have had over 100 students between his two schools.  Perhaps his best-known disciple was Pan Nam.

Jiu’s career might also offer us some insight into the relationship between Wing Chun and Hung Gar within the Yi network.  While an acknowledged Wing Chun master, Jiu appears to have been most famous within the local community for his excellence with a wide variety of weapons that are more typically associated with Hung Gar.  These included the multiple varieties of iron chains, single and double swords, sabers and the eyebrow staff.  That certainly suggests a degree of cross-training.

Cheung Bo (1899-1956) may also have taught for the Zhong Yi Association. Rene Ritchie notes that Cheung Bo’s lineage is not totally clear and that he likely learned both Wing Chun and bone setting from Wai Yuk Sang, who was a doctor employed by the Nationalist Army.  Cheung became a chef at the Foshan Tien Hoi Restaurant and was close friends with Yuen Kay San. In addition to his “restaurant class” he may also have taught at the “Hui Yi” martial arts school.  Cheung was responsible for the early training of Sum Num who he later introduced to Yuen Kay San.

It was during the 1920s that the Yi schools more closely aligned themselves with local business interests, “yellow” trade unions and the rightwing of the provincial KMT leadership. They clashed repeatedly with the more radical Hung Sing Association over the various strikes and pickets promoted by the leftist organization.  It appears that at times they may even have been used as strikebreakers.

As Guoshu activity began to accelerate in Guangzhou, only a short distance away, the Yi schools decided to formally unite and organize themselves as the Zhong Yi Martial Arts Athletic Association.  The new group had about a dozen branches (all in Foshan) during the early 1930s.  Its official membership has been estimated at about 1000 individuals, making it about one third the size of Hung Sing at its 1927 peak. It should be remembered that this later organization was closed by the KMT during the crackdown on Communists that followed the Northern Expedition and the Shanghai Massacre in the same year.

Of the many ways of expressing “martial arts,” the Zhong Yi Association adopted the term “Guoshu.” Still, it remains unclear what sort of relationship (if any) the group had with the Central Guoshu Institute. There is no evidence that they adopted the standardized Nanjing curriculum meant to unify the Chinese people behind a single set of (mostly Northern) practices. Nor did this group attempt to pursue the sorts of radical ideological reforms of the martial arts sectors that the short lived Liangguang Guoshu Institute had demanded. Indeed, the Zhong Yi Association was composed of exactly the sorts of regional, traditional, sectarian and secretive styles that national Guoshu reformers so desperately sought to eliminate. It is thus reasonable to ask whether, or how, this group functioned as an extension of the Guoshu movement.

Perhaps the clearest answer to this comes when we look at the organization’s leadership flowchart. The first thing that we see is that its president was none other than Zhang Qi Duan, the KMT Party Secretary for Nanhai County.  Indeed, prominent local citizens and KMT functionaries filled all of these leadership roles.  While there is no evidence that the Yi schools adopted any of the substance of the national Guoshu reform movement, it does appear that local elites consciously decided that they were more interested in having political control over the local martial arts community (particularly at a time when it was embroiled in frequent violent clashes with the labor movement) than the details of what styles were to be taught.  It was easier and more efficient for local leadership to co-opt a preexisting group, rebranding it as part of the Guoshu movement, than to create yet another competing school staffed with imported martial artists.

If this interpretation of the historical facts is correct, the choice to simply work with the Zhong Yi Association represents a telling concession to the realities of the local martial arts marketplace.  Given the intensely local nature of most schools, it seems that the top-down, state centric, model of martial arts reform promoted by the Central Guoshu Institute during the 1930s was doomed to fail. Even a few miles outside of a provincial capital it proved almost impossible for the state to assert its control over the vast networks of private schools and associations that had grown up since the end of the Boxer Uprising.  Such an undertaking was only possible when the local political and military leadership was strongly committed to the project.  But in Foshan it was precisely these officials who instead decided to rebrand a preexisting network that they already depended on and exercised some control over.  Rather than the Guoshu banner being one that united a common (and progressive) national culture, in Foshan it was a tool for local martial artists to express an entirely different (and more conservative) vision of how modern China should function.

 

 

Conclusion

One lesson to be drawn from this is that historians must approach the written sources (policy statements, manuals, yearly reports, newspaper articles, etc…) generated by reformist groups with a fair degree of caution. This material is relatively easily accessible to us today as one aspect of the Republic era modernizing agenda was to establish a robust written record, thereby combating the popular perception that the martial arts were practiced only by rustic illiterates.  Yet the substantive claims made by these organizations about the state of the Chinese martial arts were often deeply misleading.

In their public statement during the 1920s and 1930s they constantly claimed that the Chinese martial arts were dying, that they had become irrelevant, corrupted or ignored. They proposed various schemes for the resurrection of these arts through a process of purification, modernization and state sponsorship.  The irony was that the local martial arts were not dying, certainly not in Guangdong, and probably not in most other areas of the country.  New commercial schools and organizations were growing at a dizzying rate, so much so that outside regulatory efforts found it essentially impossible to control the local supply of martial arts instructors.  While there were starts and stops, the interwar years saw a steady rise in interest in the martial arts.

Newspapers in Guangzhou, Foshan and Hong Kong all began to carry serialized novels glorifying local martial artists from the recent past.  New radio programs, and later early films, hyped martial strength. Urban individuals became involved in these traditions in record numbers. The simple reality is that the Chinese martial arts were more popular, and practiced by a wider range of groups, in the 1920s and 1930s than ever before.  The Guoshu movement was never going to “save” the Chinese martial arts as, in reality, these arts and the social structures that supported them, were doing quite well on their own.  Rather, the various reform movements of the 1920s and 1930s are better understood as attempts to get out in front of trends that were already highly developed and threatening to pass by a relatively small group of elite activists and their backers in the government.

The situation in Foshan is instructive as it suggests two issues which probably slowed the substantive spread of the Guoshu movement.  While there was an immense demand for martial arts training in this period, local martial artists expressed little enthusiasm for the centralized reforms, training regimes and tournament structures that a handfull of national level reformers sought to promote.  Instead martial arts groups continued to focus on local issues, identities, power structures and conflicts.

Secondly, with the help of local government officials, the Guoshu name and framework could be appropriated to promote exactly the sorts of parochial, traditional and sectarian martial arts practices that the national reform movement was actively preaching against. Rather than weakening these groups, the expansion of the Guoshu program actually provided them with a platform from which to promote their own, radically different, vision of what “New China” should be.  While Foshan’s Zhongyi Martial Arts Athletic Association has been all but forgotten by modern Hung Gar and Wing Chun practitioners, this short discussion suggests that it still has much to teach students of martial arts studies.

 

oOo

A note on sources:  Anyone interested in a fuller account of this period (as well as the relevant footnotes and citations) should check out chapter 3 of The Creation of Wing Chun: A Social History of the Southern Chinese Martial Arts.

oOo

Bringing Northern Styles South: A Brief History of the Lianguang Guoshu Institute

 

 

Transforming Southern Martial Culture

 

How did Taijiquan, now ubiquitous, establish itself in Southern China?  What about the other northern Shaolin systems? I would think that the lion’s share of the credit must go to the Jingwu Association which introduced and popularized several systems throughout the 1920s.  Still, the institutional structure of the modernist Jingwu Association tended to absorb sets from various arts rather than presenting them as distinct, self-contained, lineages.  The other actor, frequently noted in this equation, is the Guoshu (National Arts) movement.

Guangdong province established its own branch of this national organization relatively early on. I recently heard the assertion that all of the “traditional” practices of southern China could be classified into three categories.  First, one had the local Cantonese arts (Hung Gar, Choy Li Fut, etc..), next there were the Hakka styles (White Eyebrow, Dragon) and finally there are the northern arts (Taijiquan, Northern Shaolin). The argument went that it was ultimately the Central Guoshu Association, and their program to promote national unity through martial arts training, that should receive the credit for disseminating these styles to the south.

This particular assertion was made much too quickly, and the author was speedily on to other topics. Still, I think it would be worth our time to go back and parse these events more carefully. Guoshu, as both a term, idea and a historical movement, seems to be enjoying a mini-renaissance at the moment.  Speculation as to why this is, and what it ultimately suggests about contemporary Chinese martial arts culture, will need to wait for a separate blog post. Yet, at least in the case of Southern China, it is interesting to note that many of the organization’s greatest contributions to martial culture are rooted in its institutional failures, rather than success.  The following meditation on these questions is based largely on research conducted for my co-authored volume (with Jon Nielson) on the social history of the Southern Chinese martial arts. If you are interested in chasing down a more complete account of Guoshu in the Pearl River Delta (or my footnotes) take a look at chapter three.

In a certain sense the prior assertion by the unnamed author is absolutely correct.  Even if the Jingwu Association whetted the public’s appetite, the Guoshu movement was directly responsible for the export of many important styles and lineages to the south. Still, if we succumb to a type of easy romanticism about this process, we risk misunderstanding both the nature of the Southern Chinese martial culture and the severity of the challenge that it posed to a program consciously designed to displace regional traditions with a more universal set of practices and identities. Yes, national reformers were able to use the martial arts to shape debates about what the “New China” should be.  Yet local society could also turn to these practices in launching their own broadsides against outside forces.

 

 

 

A group photo of organizers and athletes at the 1928 National Guoshu Examination.

 

A Governor Goes North

The first common misconception that casual readers might have is that the Guoshu organization was truly national in scope. Andrew Morris has noted that the movement’s pretensions to universality and sectoral dominance never materialized in real life.  Indeed, it would have been practically impossible for any organization to fully integrate itself into Chinese life, in both the city and the countryside, in only a few years during the turbulent 1930s. China was just too large and complex for this to happen.  Further, many of the specific challenges that Guoshu faced stemmed from the group’s unapologetically partisan nature.

Unlike the Jingwu Association, the Central Guoshu Institute was not dedicated to vague notions of Chinese nationalism.  Its goals were much more statist in orientation. While encouraging patriotism was important, the group received enthusiastic government backing as it also sought to indoctrinate its practitioners with loyalty to the KMT, and to Chiang Kai-shek in particular. This became an issue as, his victory in the Northern Campaign notwithstanding, not all of the KMT’s notoriously independent cliques and generals were equally enthusiastic about aligning themselves with Chiang and his program.  As such, many regions of China actually resisted the spread of the Guoshu.  Or, to be more precise, while they may have enthusiastically embraced the name Guoshu, and certain philosophical notions about national strengthening through the reform of the martial arts, they were not about to turn local “paramilitary” assets over to Chiang and his allies.

Morris asks us to consider the case of Shanxi Province in the 1930s.  Long a stronghold of traditional boxing, readers may be surprised to learn that it had no official Guoshu chapter.  This fact may not at first be evident.  The province actually boasted over 500 registered martial arts societies in the 1930s, and many of them using the term Guoshu in their names (evidence of the fashionable nature of the word).  Yet the entire area was administered by the independent warlord Yan Xishan who carefully avoided any contact with a program that was (quite correctly) perceived as a tool of Chaing Kai-shek’s close backers.

A very similar pattern could be seen in Fujian and Guangdong.  Both provinces were formally administered by the KMT, yet in the post-1927 era their leadership was sometimes protective of their local autonomy.  This institutional weakness within the KMT impeded the expansive vision of the Guoshu Institute.

That is not to say that the new movement didn’t have important allies.  In October of 1928, General Li Jinshen (governor of Guangdong and an important military figure at the time) visited the first national martial arts examination hosted by the newly organized Central Guoshu Institute in Nanjing. He was so impressed with what he saw that he decided to commit substantial resources to promoting the Guoshu program in Guangxi and Guangdong.  He invited Wan Lai Sheng (a Six Harmonies and Shaolin Master) and Li Xian Wu (Taijiquan and a native of Guangdong), to return with him to Guangzhou.

Li quickly drew up plans that were approved by the local government. Wan Lai Sheng was formally appointed the head of the new provincial organization by General Li’s Eighth Army. Given the ambitious nature of Li’s plans, Wan then went about recruiting a number of high-profile instructors.  These included Fu Zhensong, Li Xian Wu, Wan Laimin and Gu Ru Zhang (who many readers will already be familiar with).  Gu would go on to become the central figure in the promotion of Bak Shaolin (Northern Shaolin) in Guangdong province.  These instructors, and Wan, were known in the press as the “The Five Southbound Tigers.”

Li’s Lianguang Guoshu Institute first opened its doors in March of 1929, hosting three sets of two-hour classes a day.  The organization had an initial enrollment of 140 students, which quickly increased to close to 500.  Still, a closer examination revealed something odd. Rather than filling its ranks with local martial artists looking to get on board with the new national program, almost all of these students were low ranking civil service personal. Still, there was enough “official” demand to both expand the class structure and to begin to offer off-campus instruction at any business or office which could meet the financial requirements and guarantee at least 20 students.  Chinese sources note that, once again, it was government offices that dominated the off-campus study program.

Despite these initial struggles to penetrate the local martial arts sub-culture, or perhaps because of them, Governor Li pressed ahead with an ambitious agenda for the Lianguang Guoshu Institute.  This was aided through the efforts of the local government.  First, an ordinance was passed mandating registration and licensing of all martial arts organizations or schools in the province.  Second, the creation of any new martial arts school or organization not administered by the institute’s (mostly Northern) staff was banned. Finally, money was set aside for the creation of a regional publication dedicated to advancing the nationalist and pro-KMT “Guoshu philosophy.”

Backed by the full might of the Eighth Army, the provincial government, and an enthusiastic governor, such a set of reforms could have had stifled Southern China’s vibrant martial culture. Indeed, that seems to have been precisely the goal of their effort.  General Li Jishen was quite sincere in his desire to bring the local martial arts community to heel, effectively transforming it into a tool to be exploited by the state. While it remains unclear to me whether these sorts of orders could have been enforced in the countryside, their impact on urban Choy Li Fut or Hung Gar schools would have been disastrous.  Deep pools of local knowledge and experience were about to be sacrificed on the altars of “national unity.”

It is interesting to speculate on whether, and how successfully, the local martial arts sector would have resisted these efforts.  Fortunately, historians have no answer to that question as Li’s ambitious plans fell apart almost immediately. Indeed, the great weakness of Guoshu’s rapid expansion was that its success depended not so much on popular demand as the political calculations of often unpredictable leaders.

In May of 1929, General Li Jishen took the spectacular step of resigning as governor and traveling to Nanjing with the intention of mediating a truce between Chiang Kai-shek and the “New Guangxi Clique.”  This was, to say the least, a serious strategic miscalculation.  Negotiations went badly and Chiang (quite predictably) was furious. He had General Li arrested and held until his eventual release in 1931, after which he drifted towards the Communist Party. This left Guangdong in need of a new governor. They received one in the form of Chen Jitang, who is still remembered for his social reforms (the creation of a very basic social safety net) and building programs (he paved the streets of Guangzhou).

One of Chen’s first acts upon taking office was to disband the Guoshu Institute. It is likely that Chen saw this organization as a potential political threat. After all, he did not create it, and many of the individuals within it were loyal to his predecessor. It is also likely that Chen did not want to be that closely associated with a group that was so much under of the influence of Chiang’s most ardent supporters. Whatever the actual reason, budget concerns were cited as the precipitating factor.  With a total budget of 4,500 Yuan a month, the Institute was a notable undertaking. But that figure hardly seems outrageous given Li’s expansive vision for the organization.  All told the Lianguang Guoshu Institute closed its doors after only two months, and without making any progress towards its ambitious goals.

That is where its story ends.  The initial attempts to establish Guoshu in Guangzhou immediately fell victim to internal politics within the KMT. In retrospect it is almost too predictable.

All of which is great, because what happened next had an actual shaping effect on the development of Southern martial culture. The surprising collapse of the Lianguang Institute left a number of extremely talented Northern martial arts exponents unemployed (and more or less stranded) in Guangzhou.  This seeming setback created new opportunities that spread the Northern arts more effectively than anything that Li had envisioned.  After all, most of the instruction that had been provided in these initial months was directed at a relatively small group of government employees.  Chen’s forced dissolution of the organization allowed its instructors to enter into a much broader (and truly competitive) marketplace for martial arts instruction. It was within these smaller commercial schools that arts such as Bak Siu Lam and Taijiquan really took off and came to be accepted by the general public.

Following the breakup of the Guoshu Institute, Li Xian Wu was hired by the Guangdong branch of the Jingwu Assocation as its new director of academic affairs. He later published a well-known guide to taijiquan. Gu Ru Zhang proved to be among the most influential of the remaining staff. Attempting to capitalize on the work that was already accomplished, he sought to create the Guangzhou Guoshu Institute (formally established in June of 1929).  Gu was selected as its president, Wang Shaozhou was named its vice president and Re Shen Ku, Li Jing Chun and Yang Ting Xia (the wife of Wang), were all hired as instructors.

This new, smaller, organization enjoyed a measure of official backing and was housed in the National Athletic Association building on Hui Fu East Road in Guangzhou.  That said, the new institute never subscribed to the grandiose policy objectives of its predecessors. Rather than regulating Southern China’s martial arts sector, it essentially entered the economic marketplace as one school among many.

And as fate would have it, Gu’s new efforts found some real success. In 1936 the Guangdong Province Athletic Association sponsored a martial arts exhibition at the Guangzhou Public Stadium.  Gu’s Guangzhou Guoshu Institute performed for an enthusiastic crowd and received an award from the local government.  Still, like most of the other local martial arts organizations it was forced to shut its doors in 1938 during the Japanese occupation. Yet it was due to the more private efforts of Gu and his fellow instructors, rather than the grandiose machinations of General Li, that the Northern arts established long lasting schools and lineages in Southern China.  They did so by entering the marketplace and providing a good that consumers actually wanted.

 

An image of a now famous postcard that Gu Ruzhang sent to his students.

 

 

Martial Arts and the Weakness of “Established Churches”

It would be impossible to tell the story of China’s twentieth century martial arts without carefully reviewing the political opportunities, alliances and entanglements that presented themselves in each era.  Still, as we review this material it quickly becomes evident that political sponsorship is a double-edged sword.  More than one martial arts organization was destroyed by the capricious winds of change blowing through China’s political history.  Political alliances proved to be a pathway to rapid growth, but also rapid obsolesce.

Leaders have repeatedly sought to use the martial arts as one element of larger campaigns to shape society more to their liking.  In the short-run this creates funding and promotional opportunities. But it also creates martial arts institutions that are more responsive to the demands of political elites than the public who must actually attend classes and pay their sifu’s rent.  Such a bargain is rarely good for the martial arts in the long-run as it prevents them from establishing the type of relationship with consumers that is necessary to survive periods of rapid social change.

The story of the Lianguang Guoshu Institute offers a critical insight into the strengths and weaknesses of “established” martial arts (to borrow a term of religious studies.) As a government backed institution, the only students it seemed capable of recruiting were individuals already dependent on the governor for their paychecks. Yet when its instructors were released into the competitive marketplace, they created popular schools and practices that quickly spread the northern styles across southern China. That has had a lasting impact on Guangdong’s martial culture.

 

oOo

If you want to delve deeper into these questions check out: Government Subsidization of the Martial Arts and the Question of “Established Churches”

oOo

 

 

Chinese Martial Arts in the News: Dec 10, 2018: Young Masters, Colorful History, Chinese Swords

 

Introduction

Its official, holiday madness is upon us. Still, I wanted to comment on some of the more interesting stories that have been floating around. For new readers, this is a semi-regular feature here at Kung Fu Tea in which we review media stories that mention or affect the traditional fighting arts.  In addition to discussing important events, this column also considers how the Asian hand combat systems are portrayed in the mainstream media.

While we try to summarize the major stories over the last month, there is always a chance that we may have missed something.  If you are aware of an important news event relating to the TCMA, drop a link in the comments section below.  If you know of a developing story that should be covered in the future feel free to send me an email.

Its been way too long since our last update so let’s get to the news!

 

Keeping kung fu relevant. Source: South China Morning Post.

 

News From All Over

The South China Morning Post  is a pretty reliable source for news on the Chinese martial arts.  But what I really love is the number of Wing Chun stories they publish! Nor did they disappoint during the last news cycle.  Click this link for a profile of a young instructor battling to “Keep Kung Fu Relevant” in the modern world. Or, if you prefer your profiles in written form, you can find a short article on the same instructor in Yahoo news.  Both are worth checking out.

 

 

English language tabloids continue to discover the newly “rediscovered” tradition of Chinese “bull fighting.” This is basically the latest attempt to parlay martial arts exhibitions into a local tourist attraction.

It seems that every year has that one story that just won’t die. If you had asked me at the beginning of the year whether that would be the “ancient art” of kung fu bull fighting, I would blinked in disbelief and asked if you were thinking of Mas Oyama.  But here we are!

Calling this an art, or somehow more “real” than Spanish bull fighting, seems like a stretch.  But the sudden appearance of this practice (unknown to the international press just last year), suggests that it would make a great case study on the “invention of tradition” in the Chinese martial arts.  Or perhaps you could use it to delve into the evolving construction of masculinity within the martial arts. Calling all graduate students…

 

Shalini Singh’s skill with a broadsword earned her a gold medal last month
at the Pan American Wushu Championships in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The San
Jose teen is an eighth-grader at Stratford School Raynor in Sunnyvale.

 

The Mercury News recently ran a story titled “San Jose teen shines in international martial arts competition.”  It profiles a young Wushu champion and reinforces some of the standard notions about why serious martial arts practice is good for children.

Shalini Singh’s skill with a broadsword earned her a gold medal last month at the Pan American Wushu Championships in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The San Jose teen is an eighth-grader at Stratford School Raynor in Sunnyvale. (Photo courtesy of the Singh family)

She was 7 years old when started at Wushu Central on Coleman Avenue in San Jose and loved it immediately. In 2016, after four years of intense study, she earned a first-degree black belt. Now, she has been practicing Wushu for almost seven years, and currently trains about 18-20 hours per week at Elite Kung Fu Academy in Fremont.

“I really like the focus and discipline that Wushu has instilled in me,” Shalini said. “Wushu has taught me that failures are an opportunity to learn and improve yourself. I used to lose in all of my initial tournaments, and at first, it made me upset and dejected. But the advice of my coaches helped me identify where I was weak, and helped me improve my performance.”

 

For whatever reason, quite a few authors decided to delve into the history (or supposed history) of the Asian martial arts over the last month.  Without a doubt the most sensational of these pieces was provided by the Fox Sports network.  Its offering was modestly titled “4 Asian Martial Arts that teach you to end the fight with one strike.”  This one is too funny (by which I mean bad) not to delve into.

Martial arts have become a means to deliver discipline, commitment and fitness into the practitioner’s life in the modern day scenario. Yes, one does learn how to defend oneself effectively also but they have largely turned into sport. But as recently as in the first half of the 20th century – the whole focus of martial arts was different. It wasn’t just used to imbue good values and equip someone for self-defence, but in those war-torn times, martial arts was an active engagement strategy against the enemy.

In that time, the focus of learning martial arts was to grievously maim or even kill your enemy in the battlefield.

In case you were wondering what these four deadly venoms are, we begin with Dim Mak (which is apparently now a single martial art invented by Bodhidharma, rather than a set of techniques), Silat (enough said), Ikken Hissatsu (which, judging by the provided video, is basically point karate highlight reel), and Varna Kali.  All in all, the article is a font of joyful misunderstanding and myth-making.  But in an era when everyone seems intent on tearing down the utility of the traditional martial arts, it stuck me as almost quaint.  As I read it I couldn’t helping thinking, “So was this what 1968 felt like?”

A similar article, though better done, can be found here. Or why not try this one (“The Guru of Kung Fu”).  Bodhidharma looks to be making a serious comeback!

 

Xu Xiaodong Strikes again!

 

The Abbot of the Shaolin Temple chimed in on Xu Xiaodong, the Chinese MMA fighter who has gained notoriety through his challenge matches with various traditional “masters.”  Apparently Shi has his back.

“He’s a good guy, even though he’s a totally amateur MMA fighter,” said Shi, adding that “a hundred people in Henan province alone” could defeat Xu.

But Shi concluded: “Xu is doing the right thing by fighting fake kung fu.”

 

Ok, maybe that wasn’t a ringing endorsement. Still, I didn’t expect that level of engagement with Xu’s quest.  Given his reputation with the Wushu establishment (not to mention the Chinese government) there doesn’t seem to be a lot of political upside for abbot Shi Yong Xinin here.

 

 

Speaking of the development of the MMA in China, Forbes ran an article on the new training facility that the UFC is planning to build in Shanghai.  Clearly this is intended to help the UFC overcome its troubles developing a more extensive network of Chinese athletes.

If you’ve ever been to the UFC Performance Institute in Las Vegas, chances are you’ve been wowed by the facility. Well, there is a new PI being constructed in Shanghai that will be three times the size of the one in Sin City.

 

Cultural Exchange Will Strengthen Bonds Between China & Africa.’ So proclaims a “Kung Fu Diplomacy” article in the Liberian Observer.  This one discusses the close cooperation between local diplomatic staff and branches of the (ostensibly academic) Confucius Institute in using traditional Chinese culture to further the state’s public diplomacy objectives.

The Embassy of the People’s Republic of China near Monrovia in collaboration with the Confucius Institute at the University of Liberia (UL) on Saturday, November 10, hosted the traditional Chinese Arts performance, with some of the main performers coming from the Hunan University of Chinese Medicine in China.

The event, which was hosted at the Monrovia City Hall, was intended to strengthen China-Liberia relationship, highlighting culture exchanges between the two countries. Some of the performances comprised a series of China’s traditional sport-oriented health maintenance practices, including Martial Arts, Tai Chi, Qigong (a popular Chinese song) about unity, and some Chinese folk dances.

 

There have been a couple of interesting photo essays in the last couple of weeks.  The first follows the career of Huo Jinghong, a 5th generation descendent of Huo Yunjia and an inheritor of his system.  That article hits all of the notes that one might expect. 

 

 

Even more interesting is this story, profiling a swordsmith who has devoted himself to reviving certain steel-making techniques.  Prepare yourself for sword pics!

Li Zhujun makes a decorative sword at his studio in Tiejiangzhuang Village of Xingtang County, Shijiazhuang, north China’s Hebei Province, Nov. 14, 2018. For centuries, Tiejiangzhuang Village has been famed for its skillful blacksmiths and prosperous steel making industry. Li Zhujun is one of the village’s top steel makers. Based on the skills inherited from his father, Li gained an expertise in the steel-making technique “refined pattern welding”, which adds complicated patterns to the swords and knives during forging. The technique has been listed as an intangible cultural heritage by the city of Shijiazhuang. In recent years, the 47-year-old blacksmith has devoted himself to the renewal of this technique. His decorative swords, thus forged with more alternative patterns, show the enhanced aesthetics and exquisite product quality. (Xinhua/Chen Qibao)

The Chief Actors in the ‘Pageant of the Dragon’, Performed By The Chinese Labour Corps, Dannes (Art.IWM ART 837) image: five Chinese men stand dressed in elaborate, traditional costumes for the purposes of a pageant. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/12963

Interested in Five Ancestor First, or the Southern Martial Arts Diaspora?  Then check out this announcement from the Philipines.

Filipinos’ fascination for martial arts comes alive as more than 200 martial arts experts across the globe converge in Manila on Nov. 24 to celebrate the 80th founding anniversary of the Kong Han Athletic Club, the country’s premier martial arts school.

Abbot Chang Ding of Quanzhou City’s Shaolin Temple, and some 30 monks and members of the International South Shaolin Wuzuquan Federation, will lead participants on the occasion.

 

Did you hear about Marvel’s ambitious new superhero film project featuring Shang-Chi, a son of Fu Manchu.  As you might have guessed, that last plot point is not going over well in China (where Marvel films are decently popular).  Why? Fu Manchu, the villain of many ‘yellow peril’ novels is still widely remembered as an offensive symbol of Western anti-Chinese discrimination.

 

 

Anyone out there interested in martial arts and politics?  If so, Malaysian Silat has been in the news quite a bit over the last few weeks.  This article, titled “Silat alliance submits memo on ICERD, Malay issues at Istana Negara,” is a good place to get your orientation.

KUALA LUMPUR: Members of a silat coalition, known as Gabungan Silat Pertahan Perlembagaan, submitted a memorandum to the Yang Di-Pertuan Agong today, expressing their protest over International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (ICERD) and other issues….Apart from the ICERD issue, Shahruddin said the note also highlighted the group’s other demands which included calling for the protection and upholding of Malay rights, Federal Constitution and the royal institution.

More pictures and video are available here. Nor is this the only time that Silat groups have been in the news for their political activism.  Here is another article touching on the involvement of Silat practitioners in violent clashes surrounding a Hindu temple in Selangor.

 

 

Now that we have all read the hot new tell all biography of Bruce Lee, we can turn our attention to Jackie Chan’s deeply confessional autobiography.  Lets just say that Chan does not bend over backwards attempting to paint himself in a positive light.  Whether this should be accepted as a mea culpa has become a topic of conversation in the Hong Kong press.  You can find one reviewer who is relatively sympathetic to Chan here.  But not everyone is as willing to accept his apology.

 

 

Martial Arts Studies

 

Typically I structure the MAS section of these news-updates around conference announcements and book updates.  This time we are going to look at some new articles and papers instead.  The first is a piece that I really  enjoyed by Colin P. McGuire.  You have all heard the song. Now its time to delve into what it really tells us about Cantonese martial culture!

Colin P. McGuire. 2018. “Unisonance in kung fu film music, or the Wong Fei-hung theme song as a Cantonese transnationalanthem.” Ethnomusicology Forum.

ABSTRACT

Wong Fei-hung was a Cantonese martial arts master from southernChina who became associated with a melody called ‘General’s Ode’. Since the 1950s, over 100 Hong Kong movies and television showshave forged the link by using this melody as Master Wong’s theme.During fieldwork in a Chinese Canadian kung fu club, I observed several consultants claiming this piece as a Cantonese nationalanthem—a hymn for a nation without a sovereign state. Virtualethnography conducted online showed that this opinion is heldmore widely, but that the piece also inspires broader Chinesenationalist sentiment. My analysis of speech-tone relationships tomelodic contour in Cantonese and Mandarin versions of the song,however, has revealed a tight integration with the former that thelatter lacked. By sharpening Anderson’s concept of unisonance, I explore how this song has become an unofficial transnationalanthem for Cantonese people, arguing that Master Wong’s themeauralises an abstract sense of imagined community.

 

I chose the next paper as a representative of the rapidly growing literature on the South East Asian martial arts.  And it seemed to offset some of the previous discussion of Silat.

Lian Sutton. 2018. “Embodying the Elements within Nature through the traditional Malay art of Silat Tua.” eTropic17.2 Special Issue: Tropical Imaginaries in Living Cities.

Abstract 

The paper introduces Silat Tua, a traditional Malay martial art, and its relationship to the tropics of the Malaysian Peninsula and Singapore through the imagery work of the four Elements: Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind. In a world of increasing disconnect between Humans and Nature, the Silat Tua practice is a traditional martial art for bringing harmony and healing, as well as an understanding of how the building blocks of Nature can harmonise, complement and resonate with the natural resources of the human mind, body and spirit. Through recounting the legend of the art’s origin, the first proponent of Silat Tua is shown to have gained inspiration and lessons from the inhabited environment. Examples of how a Silat exponent may explore and come to understand the Elements are discussed before venturing into the practical application of the Elements in cultivating mindfulness and influencing behaviour. The physical environment thus, is not only a source of inspiration for movement but indeed an impetus for leading a harmonious and virtuous life. The paper concludes with the connection and implications of the Elements training in Singapore and its potential in navigating oneself through the constant changes inevitable in life.

 

I have not yet had a chance to read the following paper by George Jennings.  But it looks fascinating and brings the conversation around to the martial practices of Latin America (a topic that deserves more discussion).

George Jennings. 2018. “From the Calendar to the Flesh: Movement, Space and Identity in a Mexican Body Culture.”

Abstract

There are numerous ways to theorise about elements of civilisations and societies known as ‘body’, ‘movement’, or ‘physical’ cultures. Inspired by the late Henning Eichberg’s notions of multiple and continually shifting body cultures, this article explores his constant comparative (trialectic)approach via the Mexican martial art, exercise, and human development philosophy—

Xilam. Situating Xilam within its historical and political context and within a triad of Mesoamerican, native, and modern martial arts, combat sports, and other physical cultures, I map this complexity through Eichberg’s triadic model of achievement, fitness, and experience sports. I then focus my analysis on the aspects of movement in space as seen in my ethnographic fieldwork in one branch of the Xilam school. Using a bare studio as the setting and my body as principle instrument, I provide an impressionist portrait of what it is like to train in Xilam within a communal dance hall (space) and typical class session of two hours (time) and to form and express warrior identity from it. This articledisplays the techniques; gestures and bodily symbols that encapsulate the essence of the Xilam bodyculture, calling for a way to theorise from not just from and on the body but also across body cultures.

 

Finally, Paul Bowman has circulated a draft of this paper for comment and discussion.  Looks fascinating!

Paul Bowman. ‘Kiss me with your fist, it’s alright’: Deconstructing the Pleasures of Martial Arts Violence.”

Abstract

this paper seeks to broach the complex relations of pleasure and violence in martial arts, in relation to their practice, performance and forms of consumption. It does so first by setting out the broad contours of the discursive status of both violence and pleasure in current debates about martial arts, before going on to deconstruct the implications of two short media texts: a controversial 2006 French Connection TV advert known as ‘Fashion versus  Style’, and an uncontroversial music video for the 2015 song ‘Be Your Shadow’ by The Wombats.

 

An assortment of Chinese teas. Source: Wikimedia.

 

Kung Fu Tea on Facebook

A lot has happened on the Kung Fu Tea Facebook group over the last month.  We looked at antique weapons, reviewed some Republic era TCMA manuals, and learned how to defend ourselves with nothing but a bicycle! (Yeah, apparently that was actually a thing in 1900). Joining the Facebook group is also a great way of keeping up with everything that is happening here at Kung Fu Tea.

If its been a while since your last visit, head on over and see what you have been missing!

Varieties of “Tradition”: Work, Play and Leisure in Martial Arts

 

A Different Kind of Race

Horse races are strongholds of pageantry and tradition, but when it comes to medieval texture, few can compare with the Palio di Siena. Oddly, any footage of the event reminds me of a critical issue within martial arts studies.  I suppose that is an occupational hazard. Pretty much anything can remind me of some aspect of the martial arts.

Still, a few words on the Palio may be in order before setting out to explore what is “traditional” in current martial practice, and what this term should denote in academic writing. Hopefully exploring one of Europe’s oldest (and probably most dangerous) horse races will help us to distinguish between the notion of “tradition” as a rhetorical posture within the modern discourse on the martial arts, and the critical ways in which pre-modern martial arts activities diverge from their modern counterparts.  Even if the physical movements and uniforms are indistinguishable from what was seen in the past, the actual activity that individuals are engaged in are always a response to contemporary events and conditions.

If one types “Palio” in a YouTube search bar, you will find numerous clips of horses and jockeys racing at breakneck speeds through Siena’s wonderful architecture, cheered on by an enthusiastic crowd. If you watch a little longer a few oddities will begin to appear. To begin with, traditional Italian architecture was never really designed with horse racing in mind. Indeed, it was probably more interested in slowing down mounted charges than facilitating them. It is not uncommon for horses to go down or riders to be unseated.  That tendency is multiplied by the fact that the jockeys race bareback.

Even more interesting is the crowd itself, packed into every space surrounding the designated race course. The term “throng” is thrown around rather loosely, but no other word comes to mind as you survey the pulsing sea of humanity. Yes, tourists come to see the race. But the only way to achieve that density would be if a sizable proportion of the local neighborhoods showed up as well.  Which of course thy do.

The Palio di Siena is much more than a horserace to the 17 wards that make up the city. It is a time of rivalry in which each neighborhood conspires to host banquets, celebrations, religious processions and demonstrations in an attempt to impress and outdo their neighbors. The race itself (run only by horses representing 10 of these wards, selected by lot) is the climax of a cycle of preparation that spans much of the year.  Bands must be maintained, flag throwers trained, and one suspects that quite a bit of expense goes into maintaining Siena’s rather large population of urban race horses. In rare instances a special race is even commissioned to celebrate important city events or to mark critical anniversaries.

Each race is a festival, and the best party in town. It also appears that for many members of the local neighborhoods, the party is a requirement. One simply does not root for a horse from a neighboring ward simply because it has a better chance of winning.  Everyone knows which team they are on, because it was the team that they were born into.  While tourists watch the race, they do not, and cannot, experience it in the same way as those whose lives are interwoven with it.  For them the party seems mandatory.

 

A depiction of kicking and unarmed fighting traditions in the traditional Italian martial arts.

 

The Italian Martial Arts Renaissance

While spectacular, the Palio di Siena is not unique.  Italy’s famously independent cities and regions have generated countless festivals. Many of them have a distinctly martial character. The history of the Palio is fairly well known. It seems that seasonal boxing and jousting tournaments gave way to bull fighting and horse-racing at the end of the medieval period.  The modern Palio (reorganized and consolidated in an attempt to reduce accidental injuries) dates to the early 1700s. Many of these Italian contests pit neighborhoods against each other.  Sometimes the contests are good natured.  In other instances, things look more like organized brawling held under the guise of some sort of sporting contest.  But no matter the specific object of the festival, there are always parties.

It was actually the parties that caught my attention. Recently I have had the good fortune to observe small pieces of what might be called the modern Italian martial arts renaissance. Increasingly I am finding Italian martial artists in all sorts of unexpected places.  Traditional Italian martial arts, including various styles of knife and stick fighting, have established footholds in North America and countries like Germany, France and Russia.

While something like Sicilian knife fighting is among the most visible of the Italian martial arts, this material has not traveled alone. Italian systems of boxing and wrestling are also being re-popularized.  And the explosion of interest in HEMA has provided a ready-made outlet for many schools of Italian historical fencing.  Indeed, a colleague in the Bay Area (and specialist in Italian stick fighting) recently told me that in his view the “traditional” Italian martial arts are united by a shared inheritance of embodied knowledge preserved within, and then borrowed from, these older fencing practices.

This view, while historically interesting, also reminds us of something else. There is a lot going on in the world of the Italian martial arts that does not fit within the self-identified realm of “tradition.” Italy has several interesting boxing traditions firmly rooted in the 20thcentury.  Judo, BJJ and MMA are all popular pursuits.  In fact, Ludosport, one of the largest lightsaber combat schools, was founded in Milan in the 2000s. It has since established branches all over Europe and North America.  While I wonder whether some local stick fighting techniques made their way into the Ludosport curriculum, no one would think to call this a “traditional Italian martial art.”

That is where the puzzle begins to unfold.  How do we know a “traditional” art when we see one? What specific practices, identities or expectations set these apart from their modern cousins?

In the 20thcentury “traditional Asian martial arts” declared their presence in a number of ways.  They tended to introduce unique, nationally defined, training uniforms. Elaborate, usually invented, histories were taught to students as a way of defining their new identity as members of the schools and emphasizing a shared set of values.  Movements were stylized in unique and aesthetically pleasing ways.  New modes of personal address were introduced.  Sometimes students were even expected to master a new language (whether Japanese, Korean or even Portuguese) if they wished to really “understand” their chosen martial practice. This differs from the ethos of the modern combat sports (boxing, wrestling and MMA) which embrace contemporary society, rather than throwing up symbolic barriers.

In these specific respects Ludosport actually comes off as a very “traditional” martial art. It strictly maintains its own codes of dress, address and behavior.  Indeed, it tends to be a rather closed community at least partially because of these strategies. One is also expected to learn at least of bit of Italian to take part in classes. Yet its engagement with Italian culture goes well beyond that. I recently had the opportunity to watch students in southern New York counting down drills, naming techniques and going through entire tournament matches without a word of English being spoken. At least within Ludosport, Italian has become the universal language of the lighsaber. One suspects that a degree of fluency and affinity for Italian culture would be a practical (if not formal) prerequisite for actually mastering this system.

I think that the love of a good party is probably also necessary to flourish within the Ludosport community. Its organizers have devoted substantial energy to creating a yearly cycle of tournaments, each with its own period of preparation, and each followed by a period of celebration. Indeed, one of the things that has been most surprising about this community is distances that individuals are willing to travel (and the economic resources they will spend), to participate in these gatherings.  The parties almost feel mandatory, and they are clearly the sort of community strengthening exercise that Emile Durkheim would have delighted in.

This global export of Italian culture is not unique to Ludosport. I asked what sort of student was most likely to take up the traditional Italian martial arts (knife and stick) while interviewing another instructor who moved to the Bay Area some time ago. He noted that when he began to teach, he expected only limited interest from the local community.  Given the extent to which these practices are tied directly to Italian culture he guessed that his students would mostly be Italian Americans looking to reconnect with their heritage.  Instead he discovered a huge amount of interest and a student body that closely mirrored the demographics of the local universities.  While Italian-Americans occasionally take an interest in Sicilian knife fighting, or the Shepard’s stick, most of his students have no direct connection to Italy and many are Asian Americans.

When asked why these sorts of students stayed, or what they got out of traditional stick fighting, my friend concluded, after a moment of thought, that it was probably the community.  They loved learning the language.  They loved the dinners and the parties.  He noted, with some surprise, the number of American university students who are now taking time to travel to Italy specifically to study with other martial arts instructors there.

On a technical level Ludosport is engaged in a very different exercise than that of my friend in the Bay Area.  He pursues the study of “traditional” arts while they are intent on developing a “hyper-real” one. He wields a stick or knife, while they opt for the lightsaber.  He teaches a skill-based classes to local university students, while Ludosport (which also supports a skills based curriculum) seems more interested in organizing itself as an international athletic league.

Yet for all of their differences, both organizations strike me as playing a fundamentally similar role within the Italian martial arts renaissance. Each presents a set of skills embedded within a distinctly Italian cultural framework. This rich web of understanding is conveyed not just through embodied knowledge (which obviously constitutes the core of actual practice), but also through the promotion of media, social networks, language acquisition, travel and an emphasis on the intensive socialization of new students.  What sorts of models exist for understanding this behavior (or in the case of Ludosport, creating it from the ground up)? One suspects that examining Italy’s long history of neighborhood festivals (often structured around quasi-military contests) might be a good place to start.

 

A less traditional Italian martial art.

 

The Mandatory Party?

Still, the more we look at festivals like Palio di Siena, the more paradoxes appear.  Can a raging, multi-week, period of intensive community preparation, practice and partying really be made mandatory? What sort of social sanctions could convince people who don’t like the traffic (or who find the injuries to horses and riders disturbing) not to take that long-awaited vacation to Canada?  Or on a more philosophical level, if the community mandates that you go out and have fun, isn’t that really a type of work?  Sure, there may be loud music and lots of alcohol, but if one is required to be there, aren’t you really performing a civic or organizational duty?

This was one of several important questions that the anthropologist Victor Turner asked in his 1974 essay “Liminal to Liminoid, in Play, Flow and Ritual: As Essay in Comparative Symbology.” His answer is particularly important for understanding the gradations of “tradition” that we might find in the martial arts. Yet on an even more basic level, he attempts to provide insights about the nature of the modern world, and the ways that industrialized and post-industrial societies tend to reposition “play” as “leisure” and “work” as “labor.”

The brief version of Turner’s answer would likely be that the existence of a “mandatory party” is possible in certain times and places, but not in our current situation. The advent of industrialization brought a fundamental transformation to how we understand concepts like “leisure” and “free time.” As such, when we see something that resembles, or postures, as a mandatory party, its important to consider what social work it is attempting to accomplish within a modern social context.  What set of personal or psychological needs are being fulfilled by something that is, in reality, almost certainly a voluntary consumption decision?

Turner begins by observing that in truly traditional communities, characterized by extensive face to face interactions, the line between transformative ritual (whether seasonal in nature or a rite of passage) and the world of normal daily work was often not what we would think.  Agricultural or physical labor was necessary to prepare material for religious sacrifices which would then ensure the productivity of one’s work in the coming year. An individual ritual action might be hedged about with symbolic cultural markers, demarcating it as “sacred space.”  Yet the cycles of the calendar itself tended to unite things into a single whole.  It dictated when work would happen, when times would be lean, and when festivals could be celebrated. Regulating the success of this system (thus ensuring the survival of the group) monopolized the resources of the community.

It is not a surprise, then, to read about entire communities coming out to cooperatively plant in the spring or gather crops later in the year.  That sort of work was an economic and social necessity.  Yet Turner went on to note that the sorts of feasts and festivals that occurred in these communities were also mandatory and a type of social work, rather than being an optional event or an example of modern “leisure.”  Just as one had a responsibility to work in the community fields, or defend the community’s boundaries in its militia, one also had a responsibility to take part in the festivals and rituals that ensured fecundity, or attempted to ward off disease or natural disaster.

Certainly, these times were marked with celebration and creative play. Yet they were also instances of very intense social work. The notion of true leisure (meaning a realm of voluntary activity chosen by the individual and financed by the fruits of their personal labor) could only come into existence once economic markets had been developed in land and labor, a process that Karl Polanyi called “The Great Transformation.” Turner had much to say about this distinction, but perhaps we can summarize simply by noting that even if a given ritual might be preserved across this cultural barrier, its nature and meaning would be utterly transformed.  To call on a seasonal example, wassailing in 16thcentury England was quite different, and implied a very different set of social structures and responsibilities, then singing Christmas carols today.  The latter is strictly a voluntary (and modern) activity.  The former was very much a “mandatory party” which wealthy landowners could not easily opt out of.

I think that one can see all of this illustrated in our modern confusion over the definition of Chinese martial culture. Did these practices originate in the changing social conditions (urbanization) of the Song dynasty, the coastal military crisis of the Ming, or ritual attempts to control disease, flood and famine in the Qing?  The answer, of course, is “yes.”  Both practice and performance have been deeply implicated within the development of the Chinese martial arts.  The 16thcentury piracy crisis necessitated the reform of martial training to counter a new threat.  Yet the four horsemen of the apocalypse always ride together. Famine and disease do not exist separately from military conflict. They are closely associated with it. Wars lead to hunger, and hunger leads to social violence.

This relationship was clearly understood by Chinese scholars, community leaders and military officers, all of whom had ample opportunities to study the subject in great detail. Thus martial rituals (lion and dragon dancing, several types of temple processions, the staging of community operas) carried out to address these more existential threats cannot ever be fully separated from the practical business of “real” martial arts training. Our constant attempts to do so, to fracture the overall unity of martial culture, tells us much more about the ways that economic and social specialization shape our own culture than anything about what happened in pre-1911 China.  In 1840 both training with the militia and celebrating the New Year with the lion dance company were examples of “kung fu” because both were types of social work that certain young men were expected to render to the larger community. At times there was a ludic aspect to this work, but again, the party was mandatory.

None of this is the case today.  Indeed, the party itself seems to have largely vanished. While conducting interviews I often hear the old timers talk about the wonderful socialization that happened after training at Chinese martial arts schools during the 1970s and 1980s. They relate stories of the hours spent in restaurants, or the group expeditions to grindhouse theaters to watch kung fu films.  It all sounds wonderful.  But I have never actually seen anything like it within my own experience. Instead, it is always framed as something “we used to do.”

When I ask about the change inevitably I hear that people grew-up, had families and got too busy.  I suspect that this also signals the dramatic loss of social capital within American society that Putnam and other social scientists have written about. Still, the very fact that one can make a choice about this, that the party can even go out of fashion, suggests that these sorts of activities are very different from their pre-modern forbearers. What had been social work, necessary to maintaining the community, came to be experienced as a type of leisure, one consumer good among many which individuals used to fill their free time. It was this prior transformation that allowed it to become too expensive or unfashionable to continue.

All of this should lead to a moment’s reflection on what we mean when using the term “traditional” to discuss the martial arts. I am not suggesting that anyone change their terminology, but we should be aware that two very different possibilities are always at play. Logically, “tradition” would seem to refer to the practices and social structures of the pre-modern era.  It was at this time that one might find a truly “mandatory party,” or martial arts practice understood as a necessary aspect of community service. Yet that is almost never what practitioners or scholars actually mean when using the term today.  Instead they are referring to a group of modern practices which emerged in the late 19thor 20thcentury, almost all of which attempt to convey an ethno-nationalist body of knowledge through a type of physical training defining itself in opposition to “modern” (read, universally available) sports. This is “tradition” as a label that is chosen within a very modern marketplace of ideas, rather than something that predates or rejects a modernist understanding of the world.  While the label points back to an imagined past of “essentialist” and immutable national identities, such a usage can exist only within a contemporary context.

 

“Local Militia Shandong.” 1906-1912 by Fr. Michel de Maynard.

 

 

Conclusion

So why would some communities (either kung fu schools in the 1970s, or Italian martial arts today) attempt to replicate the tradition of the mandatory party? Again, rather than an actual return to the past, one suspects that this is a response to proximate concerns found within recent trends.  Over the summer I had a chance to attend Ludosport’s first national tournament in the USA and was surprised by the number of athletes that they assembled.  It must have been a sizable percentage of the organization’s entire American student body. One can only wonder at the economic costs of making something like that happen.

As the tournament went on the attraction became more evident. Certainly, the matches and workshops were interesting, but the party was fantastic. It was the primary means by which old friendships were reinforced and new relationships forged. It was there that the basic social values of the group were hashed out.  Indeed, these social gatherings were so important they were not left to chance.  Ample time for “spontaneous” socialization was actually built into the events schedule.  Further, the organizer’s habit of repeatedly scheduling important business meetings for school owners and instructors as “break-out sessions” during the main parties meant that for the professional within the group, the “mandatory party” was not just a metaphor.  You really did have to be there.  That was actually rough on many of the more jetlagged attendees.

Creating a martial arts group that can impose these sorts of costs on its member is not easy in the current environment.  The higher the barriers to entry, the lower one’s potential student base will be.  Still, it is not hard to see the attraction in all of this. Social and economic changes within the American economy have, over the last few decades, hollowed out its once vibrant community and associational life. Individuals crave a sense of intense, authentic community, something that, in an increasingly chaotic world, you can build a life around.

Creating those sorts of institutions is no easy task. It is one that goes well beyond looking for a time to schedule a couple of weekday classes.  Still, the recent success of the Italian martial arts (whether traditional or hyper-real) in North America suggests that there is an immense appetite for this more intensive community experience.

This also raises questions for students of martial arts studies.  When you look at the “clan structure”, cyclic yearly calendar and “mandatory parties” of Ludosport, it is easy to be reminded of the pre-modern traditions of something like the Palio di Siena. Indeed, one suspects that these sorts of social institutions served as a model for the construction of this more modern organization. Yet if we forget that the world that structures these demands is actually quite different from the one that gave rise to an earlier generation of community traditions, that modern leisure is not the same thing as peasant’s play, we will misunderstand the social work that the martial arts perform today.

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this essay you might also want to read: The Tao of Tom and Jerry: Krug on the Appropriation of the Asian Martial Arts in Western Culture

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Wabi-Sabi: Martial Arts in a Warming World

This red pine is a unique expression of the Wabi-Sabi ethos. Source:https://bonsaibark.com/2012/12/06/theres-bunjin-and-then-theres/

 

 

Martial Arts and Politics: The Big Picture

 

The latest (dire) global warming report produced by US government scientists is inspiring conversations everywhere. I overheard a particularly interesting discussion between two colleagues earlier this week which focused not so much on the technological or policy measures that would be necessary to deal with rapid climate change, but the sorts of social attitudes would be necessary to support those steps.  They were discussing well-funded public relations campaigns, but I must confess that I have (empirically well grounded) doubts as to how effective these sorts of efforts can be.  “Confirmation bias” suggests that people are most likely to accept messages that reinforce what they already believe, or what they have already experienced.  Long lasting changes in attitude usually emerge from the ground up, and not as a slick advertising campaign. After all, not every advertisement for a product, candidate or social cause is quite as successful as its backers may have hoped.

This is one of the reasons why I am interested in popular culture. It allows one to begin to decipher some of the logic behind larger patterns of political change or stability. Rather than being an escape from the world of politics, I often think of it as the repository of shared attitudes and values which are the raw materials of tomorrow’s innovations. It literally defines the realm of what is imaginable. Whether that is a comforting thought is a different question.

The martial arts may, at first, seemed removed from large scale social or political concerns.  Much of our research focuses on identity, embodied experience, history, or the impact of these practices on relatively small communities.  All of this is important, but it does not exhaust the significance of the martial arts within modern society. I suspect that many of us study the micro-effects of the martial arts as we are martial arts practitioners ourselves.  We are anecdotally aware of their transformative power, so it is only natural that we would want to explore and systematize these insights.

Nevertheless, there is a bigger picture.  The social effects of the martial arts stretch far beyond the relatively small and ever shifting group of individuals who are actually training in them at a given point in time.  Their representation in the media has a profound effect on how we imagine our world.  I also suspect that the interaction between these arts and the political realm are likely to become increasingly significant.

That last proposition may seem far-fetched as we spar, roll or practice on any given night.  To understand how we must first come to terms with the economic concept of the “externality.” Simply put, this notion helps to explain “market failures” when (from society’s point of view) too little or too much of a good is provided. While discussions that treat the martial arts as something that can be bought or sold tend to be socially frowned upon, the simple truth is that almost all of us encounter them as a commercial product within an economic marketplace. An externality exists when the individuals who buy and sell a good (that would be us) are not capable of capturing the full benefits (or negative implications) of their market transaction.

A quick illustration may be helpful. Psychologists have noted that moods tend to be “contagious” within a social network. If you are surrounded by individuals who are stressed and unhappy, you are more likely to feel the same way, all else being equal. But if one of your friends is in a particularly good mood, that is likely to have an impact on your mood as well. I suspect that many of my readers can already guess where I am going with this. Individuals who practice the martial arts (or who engage in any form of regular exercise) report increased levels of wellness (measured across a wide variety of dimensions) and lower stress levels. That is precisely why many of these students pay for school membership in the first place.

Yet the “contagious” aspects of mood and lifestyle choices suggest that friends and family members are also reaping some of the benefits of this consumption choice even if they have never taken a single martial arts class. Because their increase in well-being is invisible in a supply/demand, chart it is not taken into account when a teacher decides how many nights of instruction to offer, or a consumer decides how many hours a week to devote to training. The end result is the existence of an externality where, because the full benefits of some people’s martial arts practices are hard to measure, the “good” in question is under-provided.

This is a single, somewhat trivial, example.  But the world of the martial arts and combat sports generates dozens of similar externalities’ touching on all sorts of cultural, social and political questions. These externalities are likely to be shaped by the social, market and political forces that regulate the expression of the martial arts in a given place, and as such they vary by country and time period. In some cases we may also find that martial arts practice (like the consumption of any good) has unexpected negative consequences and that they are being over-provided.  For instance, one suspects the current culture of traveling long distances for short seminars which is so vital to the financial success of many martial arts schools is doing the planet no favors. That seems like something that is likely to change in the future.

Nor is any of this a particularly new idea, though, to the best of my knowledge, no one has yet to formalize these intuitions through the lens of micro-economics.  China and Japan both subsidized, promoted and even mandated certain types of martial arts practice in the early 20thcentury, but not because there was a burning need to train middle school students in practical self-defense skills. Rather they realized that an entire complex of other values and “benefits” (fitness, discipline, patriotism, increased militarism) accompanied martial arts training.  It was the secondary effects of Guoshu or Budo that drove their consumption.  Whether any of this would really “work in the octagon” was not the primary consideration in the promotion of these programs.

Fortunately for us, the violent and unstable years of the 1930s are now in the past.  But what about the future?  How might the unintended, unpriced, consequences of martial arts practice help us to deal with some of the massive challenges facing modern society? When might some of these externalities take on negative consequences? And what sort of balance are we likely to see between grass roots efforts emerging out of popular culture on the one hand, and coordinated (possibly government backed) information campaigns on the other?

Obviously, such a topic is too big for a single blog post.  It could well be the subject of an entire series of books. My goal in this essay is to lay out some unexpected macro-level ways in which the martial arts might help (or inhibit) our attempts to address largescale issues.  The following post touches on global warming as a “hot” topic that has been in the news. Yet this basic method of analysis, one that focuses on the externalities of martial arts practice, could easily be applied to any number of social or political issues (some of which I may return to in the future.)

 

A typically minimalist Japanese dojo. Photograph by Jared Miracle.

 

 

Wabi-Sabi and a Warming Planet

 

While popular discussions tend to focus on the practical “reality” of the martial arts, or perhaps their history, I suspect that much of their true transformative value lies in the unique aesthetic vision that each art conveys.  A certain amount of caution is necessary here as the exact contents of this vision varies from art to art.  The cunning of Brazilian Capoeira practitioners can be seen and felt in their practice. It is one part of a set of social survival strategies that is discussed, debated and judged in physical movement. Yet the uniqueness of Brazilian society suggests that this cannot ultimately be reduced to the sorts of “cunning” that one might find in Irish stick fighting, or the “yin power” that is expressed in Chinese martial or ritual performance.  Both “yin power” and “cunning” can be understood as aesthetic expressions of cultural meditations on the challenges of survival in often harsh environments. Yet each conveys a distinct set of nuances and insights.

Given the importance of the Japanese martial arts in kicking off the modern exploration of these fighting systems, perhaps we should not be surprised to discover that the concept of Wabi-Sabi (usually understood as values related simplicity, impermanence, asymmetry and austerity) has permeated further into the global consciousness that any of these other martial arts related visions. It is not hard to find evidence of the philosophical notions (focusing on the Buddhist insights that all things are impermanent, empty and vessels for suffering) that underpinned this aesthetic style within the Japanese martial arts. One can see it in the simplicity of the traditional judo gi, the austere etiquette of the dojo, and even the way that scrolls or artwork are presented in the school’s tokonoma.

Still, my first encounter with Wabi-Sabi was not mediated by the martial arts. As I teenager I was lucky enough to study with (and work for) Bill Valavanis, who runs the International Bonsai Arboretum in Rochester NY.  It was primarily through the mediums of bonsai, traditional Japanese gardening and stone appreciation that I encountered a set of concepts which amounted to a profound meditation on the nature of existence at a formative time in my own life. Neither martial artists or Bonsai masters can deny the essential truth of existence.  All things are impermanent, and all things are incomplete.  Within such a philosophical framework it is easy to elevate frugality, simplicity and austerity as the key guiding values of human existence.

One suspects that a profound appreciation for Wab-Sabi arose just as much out of the observation of daily life in early-modern Japan as erudite Buddhist argument.  In truth, Japanese life was often harsh, food was scarce, and the material conditions that most people lived under were spartan at best. Japanese houses were (and to a certain extent remain) unheated during the winter, and the hottest days of summer brought their own challenges. Yet students of Japanese history and culture are often amazed by the beautiful material culture that was woven out of these challenging conditions.

The modern West sits at a crossroads.  Our social, economic and political systems have rested on the core principle that people should be able to consume as many material goods as they want.  And if they cannot achieve this level of consumption now, they have a right to work towards it in the future. It seems unlikely that this situation can continue. Failure to politically address rising sea levels, increased severe weather and the future loss of prime agricultural land to drought would be economically and socially catastrophic. One might think of this worst-case scenario as global warming’s “hard landing.”

But even the best-case, most cooperative, scenarios will eventually require a massive adjustment to practically everyone’s lifestyle within the industrialized West.  Short of a miraculous technological innovation that allows us to pull carbon from the atmosphere at will, huge changes in consumer behavior are likely in store.  These will influence what we eat, how we travel and where we live. We are likely to see birthrates plummet across the developed world as raising children becomes more expensive. In the long run, cuts in consumer activity married to a dropping, aging, population, suggests that we could see a significant shrinking of major markets.  That, in turn, suggests a massive reduction in the rates technological, medical and social change which we have come to expect.

Anyone who has spent enough time in the social sciences knows how difficult forecasting is. Economists love to make predictions. In my field (political science) we try to avoid it whenever possible. The challenges of modeling climate change are well known and much discussed.  But they pale next to the sheer impossibility of predicting how people (at either the individual or national level) are likely to respond to this.  And given that the scope of climate change (whether we can ensure a relatively “minor” rise of 2 degrees, or if we end up in more of a worst-case scenario) is dependent on the creative and cooperative behavior of such unpredictable actors, I don’t think that anyone can accurately say what the future will be.

Still, we know a few things.  Whether we agree to tie our own hands through democratically decided legislation, or allow unmediated market forces and natural processes to do it through a “hard landing,” the average resident of the Western world will be consuming a lot less.  Realistic carbon taxes (if instituted) will raise the price of all sorts of inelastic goods (food, transportation, heating) in relatively predictable ways. Drought, sea-level change and a rising demand for energy will do the same things (though in a much less predictable way) through market mechanisms.  One way or another, discretionary spending is going to drop.  It is hard to say by how much, or when.  But it is impossible to believe that this will not have a substantive effect on where and how we live.  In short, we are already transitioning from a period of “wanting more” to one of “getting less.”

 

The beauty of snow, contrasted with the challenge of winter, has often been a subject for Japanese artists. Source: Evening Snow at Kanbara, from the series “Fifty-three Stations of the Tōkaidō” by Utagawa Hiroshige. metmuseum.org

 

This brings me back to the Japanese notion of Wabi-Sabi. Within this philosophical vision “freedom” does not originate from one’s ability to escape the bounds of the natural world. Rather, freedom is found as one lives successfully in harmony with it.  More often than not in Japanese history, this has taken the form of finding beauty and meaning in the simple, the frugal, the rustic and the sincere.

As a political scientist I worry that the sorts of “diminished expectations” that climate change is already bringing will lead to increased levels of social instability and violence.  It is hard to see the current riots in France (the worst since 1968) as anything other than a preview of what could happen in many other places as carbon taxes start to bite, or governments lose the ability to keep up with mounting natural disasters and rising food prices.  Some of this will be unavoidable.  But our social expectations of a world in which progress is measured in increased consumption is sure to exacerbate such tensions.

The concept of Wabi-Sabi is interesting to me as it has always been more than a set of guidelines for gardening or architecture.  It is a remarkably well-developed argument about the benefits of choosing less, of living simply, rather than always pushing for more. The central problem of modern existence is the creation of social and individual meaning.  Whatever its drawbacks, the economically focused “American Dream” succeeded in structuring the imaginations, efforts and expectations of generations.  It can only be modified or replaced by another set of principles capable of doing the same.

Telling a generation of Americans that due to their carbon footprint they can only buy “tiny homes,” or 500 square foot urban apartments, is a recipe for revolution. But supporting a vision of society where people spend more time having experiences with friends and family rather than working to acquire ever more things to stuff in ever larger houses could be the beginning of a renaissance.  Cultivating a deep appreciation for Wabi-Sabi as an aesthetic vision, and accepting the fundamental values that lie behind it, could be an important step in making that happen.  Indeed, it might prove to be the most important moment of cultural exchange between Japan and the global West.

This is where we return to the martial arts.  Sadly, one cannot really gain an understanding of these concepts (let alone cultivate a new set of values) simply by reading blog posts.  In my experience Wabi-Sabi is a set of values that must be physically experienced to be fully appreciated.  My small appreciation for these values came from hours spent working in an arboretum as a teenager, time spent living in Japan as a young adult, and countless hours invested in the training hall.

Sadly, Bonsai is not a not a very popular hobby in the United States.  But the martial arts are. They are studied by children and adults in a wide variety of settings.  More importantly, they are projected, appreciated and debated through our media.  While only a minority of individuals practice them, there are very few people who don’t have some sort of expectations about, or understanding of, the Asian martial arts.  This makes them an important vector to promote a new set of values as society enters an era of consuming less but appreciate more.

As intriguing as this possibility is, it would still require a massive effort.  Indeed, this is where political intervention or well-funded informational campaigns might enter the picture. In large part the martial arts have succeeded in the West as they have been adapted to reflect modern Western values, rather than the full complexity of, say, Chinese or Japanese culture. Yet the perpetual search for authenticity within these communities (and perhaps the new or exotic by those who are curious about them), might provide an opening to increasingly bring notions like Wabi-Sabi to the forefront of public discussions of certain martial arts. Equally helpful would be public relations campaigns linking these values to fashionable changes going on in other areas of popular culture, health, architecture or diet.  Again, physically enacting such values, and experiencing them in multiple realms of life, is a necessary precondition for their acceptance.

One might object, correctly, that in focusing on the philosophical or aesthetic dimension of the martial arts we lose sight of their “true purpose.” Worse yet, we risk turning them into purely didactic, rather than practical, exercise. Certainly, care is necessary. Yet it is worth remembering that communities and nations have always been acutely aware of the externalities that the martial arts produce. Throughout the 19thand 20thcentury states were generally much more interested in the “supplementary” side effects of martial practice than the details of what was actually taught in the training hall. Acknowledging this fact is not “politicizing” the martial arts.  They have been political all along.  The real challenge facing us, both as scholars and practitioners, is to understand the full social implications of what we are already doing. Only then can we ask the difficult questions about what will best safeguard the psychological well-being and physical safety of our students as we move into an uncertain future.

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this essay you might also want to read this piece on gender in martial arts training.

oOo

STAFF VERSUS SPEAR

棍進槍
STAFF VERSUS SPEAR
蘭晉如
by Lan Jinru
[Chapters 7–10 of An Authentic Description of Shaolin Staff Methods, published Jan, 1930]

[translation by Paul Brennan, Nov, 2018]

第七章 棍進槍
CHAPTER SEVEN [CHAPTERS 7–10]: STAFF VERSUS SPEAR

開門式 第一動作
OPENING POSTURE / MOVEMENT 1

甲方。(卽持棍人)雙手持棍。右手持棍尾在胸前。手心向下。左手抓棍身。在身後。手心向裏。使棍斜伏於左脇。站於練習場一端起點之左方。(指甲方所在任何一端正中為起點乙方亦然)左足在前。兩足距離約一尺餘。兩膝蓋微曲。左足踵提起。足尖觸地。全體重點。移於右腿。胸向右方。(起點右面)兩目注視乙方。(卽持槍人)微停。右足向前開一步。左足向前開一步。仍是足尖觸地。足踵提起。同時右手棍尾。左手棍頭。初在右足開步之際。各貼身傍畫一大圓圈。(棍尾經後向下旋轉棍頭經前向上旋轉)復於原處。其姿式與前同從略。同時乙方。(卽持槍人)雙手持槍。右手抓槍樽。曲肘。使槍樽緊貼右脇後方。手心向裏。左手抓槍身下端。胳膊向前伸直。手心向上。兩手距離約二尺餘。使槍尖橫向甲方。站於練習場另端之右前方。(起點右前面)右腿站直。左足在前。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺四五寸。胸向起點左方。兩目注視甲方。微停。雙手將槍舉起過頂。左手鬆開。沈下。同時右足向左前方。(起點左前面)橫開一步。(觸地後足尖向起點左前方)左足再向起點右前方開一步。原地再向右轉。使全體由右方轉一小圈。前胸仍向原方。(唯此時右足已在前方)右膝弓曲。左腿在後伸直。成前弓後箭步。同時右手及槍。落於胸前曲肘。使槍樽伏於右脇後方。手心向裏。同時左手在胸前接槍。手心向上。朝裏擰勁。擰至手心向下。同槍尖向外一叩。兩手距離約二尺餘。槍頭仍向甲方。其式如第一圖。
Person A (holding the staff), hold your staff with both hands, your right hand holding the tail of your staff in front of your chest, the center of the hand facing downward, your left hand grasping the body of your staff behind you, the center of the hand facing inward, causing your staff to be making a diagonal line against your left ribs. [Presumably due to the different authorship of this section, the “head” and “tail” of the staff are reversed to the tail being the thicker end and the head being the thinner end, something to keep in mind while studying these movement descriptions.] Your position in the practice space is in the southeast. (The orientations in these descriptions are assigned according to A’s perspective [in his initial position], even those for B.) [Being a clumsy way to establish orientations for a set in which two people switch places, I have replaced them with simple compass directions, same as for the Staff Versus Staff set (Chapters 2–6). However, in this section Person A instead begins on the left side of photo 1, causing the compass for the photos to be reversed. Also, the photos the Staff Versus Staff section maintain their orientations, whereas in this section there are several reverse views, causing the compass to flip again. Therefore for most of the photos, there is this compass:

S
E    –↑–   W
N

South is the back of the photo, north being the photographer, west on the right side, east on the left side. But for photos 15, 17, 25, 30, 38, 46, 47, and 49, there is the same compass as for all of the Staff Versus Staff photos:

N
W   –↑–    E
S

North in these cases is the back of the photo, south being the photographer, east on the right side, west on the left side.] Your left foot is forward, your feet just over a foot apart, both knees slightly bent, your left heel lifted, toes touching down, the weight on your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the north, your gaze toward B, and you slightly pause in this position.
  Your right foot takes a step forward, then your left foot takes a step forward, toes again touching down, heel lifted. At the same time, your hands draw a large circle with your staff (your right hand holding the tail of your staff, your left hand holding the head of your staff), keeping it close to each side of your body, the tail of your staff arcing downward to the rear [on your right side] as the head of your staff arcs forward and upward [on your left side], then returning to the same position as before.
  Person B (holding the spear), at the same time as A’s movement, you are holding your spear with both hands, your right hand grasping the end of your spear, the elbow bent, putting the end of your spear close behind your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, your left hand grasping the body of your spear toward the forward section, the arm straightened forward, the center of the hand facing upward, your hands just over two feet apart, the tip of your spear pointing toward A with the blade horizontal. Your position in the practice space is in the northwest, your right leg standing straight, your left foot forward, heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet about a foot and a half apart. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward A, and you likewise slightly pause in your position.
  Your hands lift your spear above your head, your left hand letting go and sinking down, while your right foot takes a step sideways toward the southwest (coming down with the toes pointing toward the southwest) and then your left foot takes a step toward the northwest [thereby moving you farther away from A], turning you to your right from your original position with a small turn of your body toward the south, your chest still facing the same direction as before (except that now your right foot is forward), your right knee bending, left leg straightening behind, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. At the same time, your right hand lowers in front of your chest, the elbow bending, bringing the end of your spear close behind your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, as your left hand grabs your spear in front, the center of the hand facing upward, and twists inward until the center of the hand is facing downward, sending the tip of your spear outward with a snap, your hands just over two feet apart, the tip of your spear again pointing toward A. See photo 1 [each of these photos indicating 甲者 Person A (Chen Fengqi, who was also Person A in the Staff Versus Staff section) and 乙者 Person B (Liu Junling)]:

第二動作
MOVEMENT 2:

乙方承式向前進步。挺槍照甲方頭額直刺。(進步多寡以場之大小而定)同時甲方。亦向前進步。(兩方集於場之中間)待乙槍刺來。兩手托棍。向頭上猛架乙槍。左足在前。膝蓋伸直。右腿微曲。兩足距離約一尺五六寸。腰部微向後縮。左手朝上。伸直。微向前方。手心向起點右前方。五指伸開。伏於棍之兩旁。右手向上伸。肘微曲。使棍頭向身左前下方。胸向起點右前方。兩目注視乙方。乙方刺槍時。右手用力猛砍左手。在胸前扶之。右手砍至離左手約四五寸為止。左足在前。膝蓋弓曲。右腿伸直。成小前弓後箭步。兩足距離約一尺七八寸。上身微向前探。兩目注視甲方。其式如第二圖。
B, continuing from the previous posture, advance, (the number of steps you advance depending on the size of the practice space) and extend your spear with a stab toward A’s forehead.
  A, you are also advancing (so that the two of you are now more toward the middle of the practice space). When you see the stab coming, your hands prop up over your head, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, your left foot forward, the knee straightening, your right leg slightly bending, your feet about a foot and a half apart, your waist slightly shrinking back. Your left arm is straightening upward and slightly forward, the center of the hand facing toward the northwest, fingers extended and supporting on the side of your staff, your right arm extended upward, the elbow slightly bent, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southwest. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your gaze toward B.
  B, when stabbing, your right hand forcefully shoots out, your left hand supporting in front of your chest, your right hand finishing about half a foot away from your left hand. Your left foot is forward, the knee bending, your right leg straightening, making a small bow & arrow stance, your feet about a foot and three quarters apart. Your upper body is slightly reaching forward, your gaze toward A. See photo 2:

第三動作
MOVEMENT 3:

甲方將乙槍架出。承乙方下部空虛。甲方雙手持棍。左手仍在前由左向右。照乙方足部猛踏。同時乙方見棍踏來。兩足急向後跳一大步。該時右手槍樽。亦隨向後縮。至右脇。左手仍在胸前。手心向上。與前姿式不變。此時乙方。復進步挺槍。照甲方頭額直刺。左手不變。右手仍向前直砍。至離左手約四五寸為止。左足在前。仍成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。見槍刺來。乃由身之右方。使棍頭向左猛掛。右膝微曲。左足在前。足尖觸地。足踵提起。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點。移於右腿。棍頭向上。左肘彎曲。右手沈下。左手心向前。胸向起點。前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第三圖。
A, after bracing away B’s spear, take advantage of the gap at B’s lower body by using both hands to send your staff from left to right, your left hand staying forward, with a fierce smashing action toward B’s [front] foot [as your shift your weight forward onto your own front foot].
  B, when you see A’s staff smashing toward you, suddenly jump back a large step with both feet as your right hand draws back the end of your spear to your right ribs, your left hand still in front of your chest, the center of the hand facing upward. Then finish in the same posture as in the previous movement, advancing and stabbing toward A’s forehead, the position of your left hand not changing as your right hand again shoots forward, finishing about half a foot away from your left hand, your left foot forward, again making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the stab coming, send the head of your staff from right to left with a fierce hanging action, your right knee slightly bending, your left foot in front with its toes touching down, heel lifted, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifting onto your right leg. The head of your staff is pointing upward, your left elbow bending, your right hand sinking down, the center of your left hand facing forward. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 3:

第四動作
MOVEMENT 4:

甲方將槍掛出。遂卽雙手舉棍。由頭上至腦後。(此時左手鬆開下降右手單手持棍)右足向前開一步。同時右棍在腦後經身之右方。猛向乙方足部打一掃蹚。該時兩足距離約二尺。兩膝弓曲。成騎馬式。然腰部亦向前弓曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方見棍掃來。兩足猛向高跳。右手槍樽速縮至右脇後方。左手仍在前。手心向上。槍尖直向甲方。右膝彎曲。左足在前。膝亦微曲。足尖觸地。足踵提起。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點移於右腿。胸向左方。(起點左面)面向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第四圖。
A, after sending away B’s spear with a hanging action, raise your staff over your head with both hands and bring it behind your head (your left hand in this moment letting go and lowering, your right hand alone holding your staff). Then as your right foot takes a step toward the west, your right hand sends your staff from behind your head, passing the right side of your body, and suddenly attacking B’s foot with a “sweeping the hall” action, [your left hand correspondingly rising up,] your feet about two feet apart, both legs bending, making a horse-riding stance, but with your waist bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see A’s staff sweeping toward you, your feet suddenly jump up high and your right hand quickly withdraws the end of your spear behind your right ribs, your left hand still forward, the center of the hand facing upward, the tip of your spear pointing toward A. [When you land,] your right knee bends, your left foot forward, the knee also slightly bent, toes touching down, heel lifted, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifted onto your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward A. See photo 4:

第五動作
MOVEMENT 5:

乙方復跟步進前。(跟步云者卽左足向前開一步右足緊隨左足之後跟步也)照甲方右肩直刺。右手仍止於左手之後。約四五寸。其姿式。與前刺甲方之動作相同。該時甲方見槍刺來。遂用雙手持棍。左手在前。手心向外。反把將棍扣住。右手及棍尾緊伏於左脇之下。左手用力向身之右後方猛搜。槍尖全身微向右轉。同時右足向後縮半步。使胸向後方。(起點後面)左膝弓曲。右足在前。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺餘。身之重點。移於左腿。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第五圖。
B, advance with a follow step (meaning that your left foot steps out and your right foot closely follows behind it), stabbing straight toward A’s right shoulder, your right hand stopping about half a foot behind your left hand. This action of stabbing toward A is the same as in the previous posture.
  A, when you see the stab coming, hold your staff with both hands, your left hand going forward, the center of the hand facing outward, grabbing your staff with a covering grip, your right hand and the tail of your staff hiding below your left ribs, and your left hand forcefully goes toward your body’s right rear, fiercely seeking the tip of B’s spear, your body slightly turning to the right. At the same time, your right foot withdraws a half step, your chest facing toward the west, your left knee bending, your right foot in front, heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight on your left leg. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 5:

第六動作
MOVEMENT 6:

乙方。將槍仍縮回。兩足不動。復挺槍。照甲方右膝下部直刺。同時甲方見槍刺來。右足向身後猛撤一步。同時右手棍尾。急轉至右脇。使棍頭橫斜。朝下猛捕。使棍頭觸地。向左前方。(起點左前面)右膝曲。左腿伸直。兩足距離約二尺。兩足尖均向起點左方。前胸亦向起點左方。腰部微向前曲。兩目注視乙方。其式如第六圖。
B, again withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then extend your spear, stabbing toward A’s right shin.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot quickly withdraws a step behind you as your right hand draws an arc with the tail of your staff until it is at your right ribs, causing the head of your staff to go across diagonally, and fiercely seize downward, sending the head of your staff to touch the ground toward the southwest [northwest], your right knee bending, left leg straightening, your feet about two feet apart, the toes of both feet pointing toward the south [north]. Your chest is also facing toward the south [north], your torso slightly bending forward, your gaze toward B. See photo 6:

第七動作
MOVEMENT 7:

乙方左手前移。手心向上。右手縮回脇部後方。兩足不動。復照甲方頭額直刺。此時左手後移。右手向前直砍。止於左手後方約四五寸。同時甲方。見槍刺來。雙手執棍。猛向上托乙方之槍。左手朝上伸直。微向前。低於右手約五六寸。手心向右。(起點右面)五指伸開。伏於棍之旁。右手朝上。肘微曲。兩腿與前姿式不變。唯腰部抬起垂直。兩目注視乙方。其式如第七圖。
B, your left hand is shifted forward, the center of the hand facing upward, as your right hand withdraws behind your ribs, your feet staying where they are. Then stab toward A’s head, your left hand being shifted to the rear as your right hand shoots forward, stopping about half a foot behind your left hand.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your hands fiercely prop up B’s spear, your left hand going upward and slightly forward, the arm straightening, the hand about half a foot lower than your right hand, the center of the hand facing toward the north, fingers opened, supporting the side of your staff, your right hand going upward, the elbow slightly bent. Your legs do not change their position from the previous posture, but your torso lifts to become upright. Your gaze is toward B. See photo 7:

第八動作
MOVEMENT 8:

甲方將乙槍架出。同時左足尖朝外撇。使向起點左方。右足向前橫開一步。觸地。後足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。右膝曲。兩足距離約二尺餘。全身重點。移於左腿。在右足開步之際。左手沈下。右手執棍。在腦後。使棍由身後經右方。猛向乙方左足部打一掃蹚。同時乙方。左手微鬆。姿式與前不變。右手急仍縮囘右脇後方。同時見甲方照足部掃來。兩足猛向高跳。落地後。左足仍在前。兩足距離約一尺餘。兩膝微曲。胸向起點右前方。槍尖橫向甲方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方承打掃蹚之際。原地向左轉。使胸向起點後方。卽時右足在左足後方。向前開一步。左足再由右足後方。又向前開一步。膝蓋弓曲。右腿在後伸直。成小前弓後箭步。兩足距離一尺餘。在右足開步之際。右手棍。由右方。經前方。畫一大圓圈。折回。斜伏於左脇下部。棍頭向起點。前下方。離地約四五寸。棍尾與眼眉相平。左手在後伸直。手心向裏。右肘橫曲。手心向下。面目由左方。隨棍頭同時轉向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第八圖。
A, after propping away B’s spear, your left toes swing outward toward the south, then your right foot steps forward, the foot coming down sideways, the toes pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your right [left] knee bending, your feet just over two feet apart, the weight shifted onto your left leg. As your right foot steps out, your left hand sinks down and your right hand sends your staff past your head, behind your body, through the area to your right, and fiercely sweeping toward B’s left foot.
  B, your left hand slightly loosens, but your posture remains the same as your right hand withdraws behind your right ribs. When you see A’s staff sweeping toward your foot, your feet suddenly jump up high and come down to the rear, your left foot still forward, your feet just over a foot apart, both knees slightly bent. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, the tip of your spear pointing toward A, your gaze toward A.
  A, continuing from the sweep, turn around leftward so that your chest is facing toward the east, your right foot at the same time stepping forward from behind your left foot, your left foot then stepping forward from behind your right foot, the knee bending, your right leg straightening behind, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow, your feet just over a foot apart. As your right foot steps out, your right hand sends your staff from your right side and across in front of you, thereby completing a full circle, and bending in to point your staff diagonally downward below your left ribs. The head of your staff is pointing downward, about half a foot away from the ground, the tail of your staff at eyebrow level, your left arm straightening behind, the center of the hand facing inward, your right arm bending across, the center of the hand facing downward. Your face turns to the left as the head of your staff arcs toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 8:

第九動作
MOVEMENT 9:

乙方趁勢進步。追擊甲方。同時甲方。見乙方追來。以原式向起點後方退走。(開步之多寡以場之大小而定)乙方追至場之一端。挺槍直刺甲方頭部後腦。甲方見槍刺來。乃由右方。向後轉身。用棍經上方。掄起。照乙方頭部連封帶劈。同時左腿站直。足尖向起點右方。右足提起足尖下垂。伏於左膝裏外端。使右腿成三角形。胸向右方。(起點右面)同時隨右棍停於頭部上方。五指伸直。並攏。手心向上。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。該時乙方用槍直刺甲方。忽見甲方用棍劈來。乙方右足向後急退一小步。膝蓋曲。左足緊隨。兩足距離約七八寸。左足在前。足踵提起。足尖觸地。同時兩手緊抓槍樽。猛向上騰過頂。胳膊微曲。槍尖微低。向起點右後方。胸向起點左後方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第九圖。
B, take advantage of the opportunity by advancing, chasing to attack A. A, when you see B chasing, continue stepping toward the east to retreat away from him (the number of steps depending on the size of the practice space). B, once you have chased A all the way across the practice space [both of you finishing with your left foot forward], send your spear stabbing straight to the back of his head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, turn around rightward and roll your staff over, passing above you and continuing into a sealing chop toward B’s head. At the same time, your left leg straightens, the toes pointing toward the north, and your right foot lifts, the toes hanging down close to the inner side of your left knee, causing your right leg to form a triangle shape. Your chest is facing toward the north [south]. By the time your staff is over B’s head, [your left hand has raised,] the fingers straight and together, the center of the hand facing upward. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see A’s staff suddenly chopping toward you, your right foot quickly retreats a small step, the knee bends, and your left foot closely follows until your feet are about three quarters of a foot apart, your left foot in front, the heel lifted, toes touching down. At the same time, fiercely send the end of your spear upward over your head, your arms slightly bent, the tip of your spear slightly lower than the end and pointing toward the northeast. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your gaze toward A. See photo 9:

第十動作
MOVEMENT 10:

乙方。雙手沈下。同時將槍向下一扣。左手順槍桿。向前移。手心向上。右手貼於右脇後方。手心向裏。兩手距離約二尺餘。該時左足抬起。向前開一大步。右足緊隨半步。左膝曲。右腿伸直。成小前弓後箭步。同時右手猛向前伸。使槍尖照甲方直刺。右手仍停於左手後方。胸向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。見槍刺來。右足向前開一步。足尖朝外撇。右手棍由裏向上一裹。左足再向前開一步。成騎馬式。同時右手下沉。伏於右脇下方。手心向裏。使棍斜貼胸部。棍頭斜向上方。棍頭高於頭頂約一尺弱。在右棍向裏裹時。左手接棍中段向外猛科。手心向起點右方。胸亦向起點右方。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十圖。
B, your hands sink down, sending your spear covering downward, your left hand shifting forward along the shaft of your spear, the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand close behind your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, your hands just over two feet apart. Your left foot now lifts and takes a large step forward, then your right foot follows with a half step, your left knee bending, right leg straightening, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow, as your right hand suddenly extends forward, sending the tip of your spear stabbing toward A, your right hand again finishing just behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot takes a step toward the east, the toes swinging outward, as your right hand wraps the inward and upward. Then your left foot takes a step toward the east, making a horse-riding stance, as your right hand sinks down to be close below your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, making your staff diagonal near your chest, the head of your staff pointing diagonally upward just under a foot higher than your headtop. While your right hand wraps your staff inward, your left hand grabs the middle section and sends your staff knocking outward, the center of the hand facing toward the north. Your chest is also facing toward the north, your face toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 10:

第十一動作
MOVEMENT 11:

乙方之槍。被棍科出。同時將槍縮回。兩足不動。右膝微曲。全身亦隨微向後縮。左手姿式不變。唯稍向前移。右手仍伏於右脇後方。同時右足猛登。膝蓋伸直。右手又猛向前伸。照甲方頭額直刺。其姿式與第十圖相同。詳見前。同時甲方見槍刺來。猛向左轉。使胸向正前方。(起點正前面)右足在原地轉。膝蓋微曲。左足向後收回一小步。膝蓋亦曲。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點。移於右腿。在原地向左轉時。右手姿式不動。左手持棍。猛向左帶。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十一圖。
B, once your spear has been knocked aside, withdraw it, your feet staying where they are, your right knee slightly bending, your body slightly shrinking back, your left hand maintaining its position but slightly shifting forward, your right hand again hidden behind your right ribs. Then your right foot suddenly presses, the knee straightening, and your right hand suddenly shoots forward, stabbing toward A’s forehead, your posture the same as in photo 10.
  A, when you see the stab coming, suddenly turn to the left, causing your chest to be facing toward the east, your right foot staying where it is and pivoting, the knee slightly bending, your left foot withdrawing a small step, the knee also bent, the heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifting onto your right leg. As you turn to the left, mostly staying where you are, your right hand maintains its position and your left hand suddenly sends your staff to the left with a dragging action. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 11:

第十二動作
MOVEMENT 12:

承上式不停。甲方左足急向前開一小步。同時右足在左足後方。再向前開一步。兩膝均曲。成騎馬式。在右足開步之際。右肘提起。彎曲在胸前。使棍尾直向乙方之左腿之部猛戳。左手姿式不變。唯用力向下垂。兩手心均向下。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方腿部。同時乙方。見棍尾照腿部戳來。在足急退一小步。右足再向前開一步。同時左手移抓槍之中段。使槍尖向上。右手亦微向上移。使槍樽猛抵甲方棍尾。兩膝蓋曲。成騎馬式。右手心向下。左手心向上。胸向起點右方。兩目注視甲方棍尾。其式如第十二圖。
A, continuing from the previous posture from pausing, your left foot quickly takes a small step forward, then your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance. As your right foot steps out, your right elbow lifts and bends in front of your chest, and you send the tail of your staff poking toward B’s left leg, your left hand maintaining its position but forcefully dropping, the centers of both hands facing downward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B’s leg.
  B, when you see the tail of A’s staff poking toward your leg, your [left] foot quickly retreats a small step and your right foot then takes a step forward. At the same time, your left hand shifts its grip to the middle [forward] section of your spear, sending the tip of your spear upward, your right hand also slightly shifting upward, and you send the end of your spear to brace away the tail of A’s staff, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance, the center of your right hand facing downward, the center of your left hand facing upward. Your chest is facing toward the north, your gaze toward the tail of A’s staff. See photo 12:

第八章
(CHAPTER EIGHT)

第十三動作
MOVEMENT 13 [switching places]:

甲方棍尾。托乙方槍樽向上絞。同時右足向起點左方。橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。左足向起點前方。開一步此時乙方。與甲方動作相同。該時右足亦橫移一小步。(向起點右放)足尖亦向外撇。左足亦開一步。(向起點後方與甲方相背)此時甲方已轉至乙方所站之地點。胸向起點。右方。而乙方則轉至甲方所站之地點。胸向起點左方。此時乙方將槍樽縮回。提高。右足向後撤一步。使槍尖朝下。向前照甲方右腿下部直刺。兩手用力下垂。左肘伸直。手心向上。右肘微曲。手心向下。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方腿部。甲方照腿刺來。右足猛向後撤一步。左手用力向右前方(身之右前方)猛推。使棍頭上方。急抵乙方之槍尖上端。胸向起點左後方。兩手心均向下。左肘伸直。右肘曲。使棍斜伏於腹部右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。棍尖。其式如第十三圖。
A, use the tail of your staff to prop up the end of A’s spear in an arc [going clockwise] as your right foot shifts a small step across toward the south, the toes swinging outward, and your left foot steps out toward the west.
  B, as A moves, your right foot also shifts a small step across (toward the north), the toes also swinging outward, and your left foot steps out (toward the east, going around A [as he is going around you]). You have both now switched places. A, your chest is facing toward the north. B, your chest is facing toward the south. B, withdraw the end of your spear raised high as your right foot withdraws a step and then send the tip of your spear stabbing forward and downward toward B’s lower body, your hands forcefully dropping into place, your left elbow straightening, the center of the hand facing upward, your right elbow slightly bending, the center of the hand facing downward. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A’s leg.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot withdraws a step as your left hand forcefully pushes to your forward right, sending the head of your staff to quickly brace away the tip of B’s spear. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, the centers of both hands facing downward, your left elbow straightening, your right elbow bending, causing your staff to be positioned diagonally, close to the right side of your belly. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward the tip of B’s staff [spear]. See photo 13:

第十四動作
MOVEMENT 14:

乙方原姿式不動。將槍縮回。復照甲方左膝下部猛刺。甲方見槍刺來。左足向裏橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。同時右足再向前開一步。左手用力一帶。使棍頭將槍尖向外撥出。左肘曲。使棍頭向後上方。右肘向下。伸直。使棍尾向前下方。在右足進步之時。右手用力。使棍尾順槍桿直向上磕乙方左手。此時兩足尖均向起點左方。胸亦向起點左方。兩膝曲。成騎馬式。唯上身微向起點後方探。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方。見棍尾照左手磕來。左手猛向後。移至右手所在之處。同時右足不動。左足猛向後撤半步。足尖觸地。足踵提起。槍尖亦在前觸地。兩肘彎曲。使兩手縮於胸部下方。兩手心均向上。胸向起點前方。兩目注視棍尾。其式如第十四圖。
B, without changing your posture, withdraw your spear, then fiercely stab toward A’s lower left leg.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your left foot shifts a small step across inward, toes swinging outward, and your right foot then takes a step forward. Your left hand is forcefully dragging, sending the head of your staff to deflect the tip of B’s spear outward, and your left elbow bends, sending the head of your staff upward behind you, your right elbow straightening downward, sending the tail of your staff forward and downward. As your right foot advances, your right hand forcefully sends the tail of your staff upward to be parallel with the shaft of B’s spear and knock against his left hand, the toes of your feet now pointing toward the south. Your chest is also facing toward the south, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance, your upper body slightly reaching toward the east, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see the tail of A’s staff coming to knock your left hand, your left hand suddenly shifts to the rear to be next to your right hand. At the same time, your right foot stays where it is, but your left foot suddenly withdraws a half step, toes touching down, heel lifted, the tip of your spear touching the ground in front, both elbows bending, causing your hands to withdraw below your chest, the centers of both hands facing upward. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward the tail of A’s staff. See photo 14:

第十五動作
MOVEMENT 15:

乙方右足。同時向後撤一大步。左足亦隨右足撤半步。膝蓋微曲。右膝伸直。上身前探。成小前弓後箭步。同時左手向前移。伸直。右手握槍樽。縮回右脇之後方。復猛向前砍。照甲方頭部猛刺。同時甲方見槍刺來。左足不動。膝蓋彎曲。右足猛向後退半步。膝蓋微曲。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點移於右腿。同時右足原地向右轉。右手棍尾向下沉。左手棍頭向上。左手用力。經胸前向身之右方推磕乙方之槍尖。此時右手伏於腹部左端。手心向裏。左手伏於膀肩旁。手心向前。胸向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十五圖。
B, your right foot withdraws a large step, and your left foot follows, withdrawing a half step, the knee slightly bending, your right knee straightening, your upper body reaching forward as you make a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. At the same time, your left arm shifts forward, the arm straightening, and your right hand withdraws the end of your spear behind your right ribs, then shoots forward, suddenly stabbing toward A’s head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your left foot stays where it is, the knee bending, and your right foot suddenly retreats a half step, the knee slightly bending, heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifting onto your right [left] leg, your right [left] foot pivoting rightward. At the same time, your right hand sinks down the tail of your staff, your left hand sending the head of your staff upward, and your left hand forcefully pushes out to your right, knocking away the tip of B’s spear. Your right hand is now close to the left side of your abdomen, the center of the hand facing inward, your left hand close beside your [right] shoulder, the center of the hand facing forward. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 15 [reverse view]:

第十六動作
MOVEMENT 16:

同時乙方。右手復縮囘脇部後方。左手姿式不變。右手復向前猛砍。轉向甲方右膝下部直刺。甲方右足猛向左足後方撤一大步。膝蓋弓曲。左足亦隨撤半步。左膝伸直。足尖橫向起點左方。同時右手復於右脇後方。左手向下按。使棍頭由前直下。捺乙方槍尖。左手。左手伸直。手心向下。右肘微曲。手心向裏。上身向起點左方。微曲。胸向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十六圖。
B, your right hand withdraws behind your ribs, the position of your left hand not changing, then your right hand fiercely shoots forward with a stab toward A’s right knee.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a large step behind your left foot, the knee bending, and your left foot also withdraws a half step, the knee straightening, the toes pointing across toward the south. At the same time, your right hand goes behind your right ribs and your left hand pushes downward, sending the head of your staff downward from in front of you, pressing down the tip of B’s spear, your left arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, your right elbow slightly bending, the center of the hand facing inward, your upper body slightly bending toward the south. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 16:

第十七動作
MOVEMENT 17:

乙方復將槍縮回。照甲方頭部直刺。其姿式與前式相同。詳見前。故從畧。同時甲方雙手握棍。橫向上架乙方槍尖。同時將槍架出。使棍經腦後。(此時右手沈下)右手單手抓住棍尾。由身右方。橫向乙方腿部打一掃蹚。同時左足向右足後方猛撤一步。原地由左方向後轉。右足復向起點前方開一步。(此時胸已向起點前方)在右足開步之際。右手持棍橫掄。經右方。由前方斜伏於左脇之下。(在棍掄至面前時左手已接棍抓住)棍頭向起點。後下方。離地約五六寸。左肘向下斜方伸直。手心向裏。右肘橫曲。手心向下。右膝弓曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。唯此時胸向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。當甲方打掃蹚時。同時乙方。將槍縮回。兩足高跳。落地後。其姿式與前不變。詳見上。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第十七圖。
B, withdraw your spear, then stab toward A’s head, your posture still the same as in the previous movement.
  A, with both hands holding your staff horizontally, prop up the tip of B’s spear, and once the spear has been propped away, your staff passes behind your head (your right hand sinking down), your right hand now grasping your staff on its own, holding the tail of your staff, bringing it across from your right to attack B’s leg with a “sweeping the hall” action. At the same time, your left foot suddenly withdraws a step behind your right foot, arcing behind you from your left, then your right foot takes a step toward the west (your chest now facing toward the west). As your right foot steps out, your right hand has swung your staff across from the right and brings it in front of you to be a diagonal line close below your left ribs (your left hand now grabbing your staff), the head of your staff pointing downward toward the east, about half a foot away from the ground. Your left arm is straightened diagonally downward, the center of the hand facing inward, your right elbow bent across, the center of the hand facing downward, your right knee bending, left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is now facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, when A attacks with “sweeping the hall”, withdraw your spear, jumping high with both feet, and then after you land, your posture is again the same as before. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 17 [reverse view]:

第十八動作
MOVEMENT 18:

甲方姿式不變。直向起點前方走。兩目仍回視乙方。同時乙方亦挺槍開步。直追甲方。(甲方開步之多寡視練習場之大小而定)甲方走至練習場之另一。端乙。方照甲方腿部後方直刺。同時甲方見槍刺來。右手不動。左手曲肘。將棍向後提起。再向前猛搏槍尖。同時左足在後。橫向右方。(起點右面)移半步。膝蓋伸直。右膝弓曲。兩足距離約二尺弱。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左方。兩足尖均向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視槍。同時乙方左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右足在後。伸直。成小前弓後箭步左。手仍向前伸直右。手槍樽。仍停於左手裏面。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方腿部。其式如第十八圖。
A, without changing your posture, walk toward the west with your gaze turned to look toward B. B, step out to pursue A. A, with the number and size of your steps depending on the practice space, walk to one end of the space. B, stab to the back of A’s [left] leg.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right hand stays where it is as your left elbow bends, lifting your staff behind you and then suddenly sending it forward to smack away the tip of B’s spear. At the same time, your left foot shifts a half step across toward the north, the knee straightening, your right knee bending, your feet just under two feet apart, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the south, the toes of both feet pointing toward the south. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear.
  B, your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, right foot behind, the leg straightening, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your left hand is again extended forward, your right hand again finishing with the end of your spear near the inside of your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A’s leg. See photo 18:

第十九動作
MOVEMENT 19:

乙方復將槍縮回。兩足不動。唯身亦向後縮。又照甲方頭部直刺。同時甲方。右手棍尾沈下。左手將棍頭抬起。向上用力。向左猛扣乙槍。此時右足不動。半面向左轉。同時左足縮回一小步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。全身重點。移於右腿。胸向起點後方。左肘橫曲。手心向起點右方。右手心向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十九圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, your body also shrinking back, then stab toward A’s head.
  A, your right hand sinks down the tail of your staff as your left hand forcefully lifts up the head of your staff and then goes to the left, fiercely covering B’s spear. At the same time, your right foot stays where it is but does a half pivot to the left, and your left foot withdraws a small step, heel lifted, toes touching down, the weight shifting onto your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the east, your left elbow bending across, the center of the hand facing toward the north [south], the center of your right hand also facing toward the north [south]. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 19:

第二十動作
MOVEMENT 20:

同時甲方。將乙槍扣住。右足向起點後方開一步。棍尾由身後。經頭上向乙方直劈。同時右手順棍下沈。距離左手約七八寸。手心向下。同時左肘曲。成三角形。上段緊伏左脇下段。成水平線。手心向下。使棍頭緊伏下段底面。棍頭與肘尖相齊。棍頭與棍尾成水平。上身微向前探。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方。見棍尾劈來。將槍縮回。右足向後撤一步。左足亦隨右足向後撤一步。方向仍不變。同時右手槍樽提起。左手向前微推。架住棍尾。左手朝裏裹勁。使槍桿上端。裹至棍尾在下。槍桿在上。胸向起點右方。兩目注視棍尾。其式如第二十圖。
A, after covering B’s spear, your right foot steps out toward the east as you send the tail of your staff from behind you, over your head, and chopping toward B, your right hand sinking down [i.e. sliding inward along your staff] to be about three quarters of a foot away from your left hand, the center of the hand facing downward. Your left elbow is bent, making a triangle shape, the upper arm near your left ribs, the forearm making a horizontal line, the center of the hand facing downward, the head of your staff lowered to be level with the elbow, the head and tail of your staff making a horizontal line [diagonal according to the photo]. Your upper body is slightly reaching forward. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see the tail of A’s staff chopping toward you, pull back your spear as your right foot withdraws a step, your left foot following by also withdrawing a step, your orientation remaining the same. Then your right hand lifts the end of your spear and your left hand slightly pushes forward to brace away the tail of A’s staff, your left [right] hand also wrapping inward, causing the shaft of your spear to be angled upward, resulting in the staff being underneath and the spear being on top. Your chest is facing toward the north, your gaze toward the tail of A’s staff. See photo 20:

第二十一動作
MOVEMENT 21:

甲方兩足不動。右手向棍尾處移。抓住棍尾端。(此時左手鬆開)使棍頭經上方。直向乙方猛劈。上身向前探。左手隨棍停於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。手心向上。右胳膊伸直。棍頭與棍尾相平。胸向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方。右足微向起點右後方撤一小步。左足亦隨撤一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。兩膝伸直。同時右手槍樽。微隨左手。左手抬高。使槍尖向身右前上方。左手用力向外擰勁。使槍尖猛扣甲棍。手心向左方。(起點左面)右手心向下。其式如第二十一圖。
A, with your feet staying where they are, your right hand shifts to the tail of your staff (your left hand letting go), sending the head of your staff over you and chopping toward B, your upper body reaching forward, your left hand following your staff to finish above your head, the fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward, your right arm straightening, the head and tail of your staff level with each other. Your chest is facing toward the north, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, your right foot withdraws a small step slightly toward the northeast and your left foot also withdraws a step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down, both knees straightening. At the same time, your right hand at the end of your spear slightly follows your left hand as your left hand lifts, sending the tip of your spear upward to the forward right of your body, your left hand forcefully twisting outward, causing the tip of your spear to suddenly cover A’s staff, the center of the hand facing toward the south, the center of your right hand facing downward. See photo 21:

第二十二動作
MOVEMENT 22:

甲方不停。卽向起點前方開步進行。左手仍在頭部上方。胸向起點右前方。面由右方。轉向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時右手及棍。在身後隨胳膊伸直。棍頭觸地。向起點正後方。胳膊與棍成直線。同時乙方姿式不變。向前開步。(甲乙兩方開步多寡視場之大小而定)甲方走至場之另一端。乙方用力照甲方頭部直刺。乙方左足在前。甲方見槍刺來止步。左足在前。右手用力使棍之中段向上猛托。右手朝上伸直。微向起點後方。手心向上。棍頭向起點左後下方。同時右足向後退回一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點右後方。左手仍在頭上不變。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十二圖。
A, without pausing, advance [retreat] toward the west, your left hand still above your head. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. At the same time, your right hand and your staff follow your body back, the arm straightening, the head of your staff touching the ground toward the east, the arm and staff together making a straight line.
  B, maintaining your posture, chase toward the west as A walks to that end of the practice space (the amount of steps for both of you depending on the size of the practice space), and forcefully stab toward his head, your left foot again going forward.
  A, when you see the stab coming, bring your feet to a halt with your left [right] foot forward, [left foot behind], as your right hand forcefully sends the middle section of your staff propping upward, the arm extending upward and slightly toward the east, the center of the hand facing upward, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southeast. At the same time, your right foot retreats a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your left hand still positioned above your head, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 22:

第二十三動作
MOVEMENT 23:

乙方將槍縮回。兩足不動。復照甲方右腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。右足向起點前方猛撤一步。膝蓋弓曲。左足不動。原地向右擰。使足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。兩足距離約三尺。(然隨身之高矮而定)使全身重點。移於右腿。同時右手用力擰。使棍頭向後旋轉。經頭上朝下猛捕。左手亦抓棍之中段。用力向下按。胳膊伸直。手心向下。右手心向裏。肘微曲。腰部微向前曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。此時乙方姿式。左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右腿在後。伸直。上身微向前探。左手在前伸直。手心向上。右手持槍樽。在左手之後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第二十三圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then fiercely stab downward toward A’s right leg.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step toward the west, the knee bending, your left foot staying where it is and pivoting to the right so the toes are pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your feet about three feet apart (depending on your own height), the weight shifting to your right leg. At the same time, your right hand forcefully twists, sending the head of your staff arcing behind you, passing over your head, and fiercely seizing downward, your left hand also grasping the middle section of your staff and forcefully pushing it down, the arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, the center of your right hand facing inward, the elbow slightly bent, your torso slightly bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  At this time, B’s posture is thus: your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, your right leg straightened behind, your upper body slightly reaching forward, your left hand forward, the arm straight, the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand holding the end of your spear about half a foot behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 23:

第二十四動作
MOVEMENT 24:

乙方不動。將槍縮回。復照甲方頭部直刺。甲方見槍刺來。右足不動。原地向左轉。使足尖向起點後方。左足縮回半步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。膝微曲。兩足距離一尺餘。同時左手持棍抬起。使棍向身之左方猛帶。手心向起點後方。胸亦向起點後方。右手棍尾伏於右脇下部。面向起點後方。同時乙方。復將槍縮回。兩足不動。又照甲方左腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向起點後方開一步。兩膝均曲。成騎馬式。右手棍尾在右足開步之際。使棍尾向前猛抵乙槍。兩足尖均向起點右方。胸向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十四圖。
B, staying where you are, withdraw your spear, then stab straight toward A’s head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot stays where it is and pivots to the left so the toes are pointing toward the east, your left foot withdrawing a half step, heel lifted, toes touching down, the knee slightly bent, your feet just over a foot apart. At the same time, your left hand lifts the [head] of your staff, fiercely dragging to your left, the center of the hand facing toward the east, as is your chest, your right hand holding the tail of your staff hidden below your right ribs. You are facing toward the east.
  B, again withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, and then fiercely stab downward toward A’s left leg.
  A, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step toward the east from behind your left foot, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance. As your right foot steps out, your right hand sends the tail of your staff forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, your feet pointing toward the north. Your chest is also facing toward the north, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 24:

第二十五動作
MOVEMENT 25:

乙方左足。在右足前。向起點後方撤一步。同時左手抬起。使槍尖向上。左手移抓槍之上段。右手亦向上移。隨向前推。使槍樽直搗甲方右腿下部。右肘伸直。手心向下。左肘曲。手心向上。右膝曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方見槍樽搗來。左足向起點後方開一步。右手抬起。曲肘。使棍尾向上。左手沈下。肘伸直。使棍頭向下。左手向前速推。使棍頭猛抵乙方槍樽。兩膝均曲。兩足尖均向起點左方。成騎馬式。胸向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十五圖。
B, your left foot withdraws a step toward the east from in front of your right foot, your left hand lifting, sending the tip of your spear upward and shifting its grip to the forward section of your spear. Your right hand also shifts upward, then pushes forward, sending the end of your spear pounding toward A’s lower right leg, your right elbow straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, your left elbow bending, the center of the hand facing upward, your right knee bending, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the end of B’s spear pounding toward your leg, your left foot takes a step toward the east and your right hand lifts, the elbow bending, sending the tail of your staff upward, your left hand sinking down, the elbow straightening, sending the head of your staff downward, and your left hand quickly pushes forward, sending the head of your staff to be bracing away the end of B’s spear, both knees bending, the toes of both feet pointing toward the south, making a horse-riding stance. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 25 [reverse view]:

第九章
(CHAPTER NINE)

第二十六動作
MOVEMENT 26:

同時乙方槍樽。同甲方棍頭向上絞。(槍樽在上棍頭在下)絞至與頭平。乙方槍樽向回提高。同時右足向後撤一步。左手沈下伸直。使槍尖朝下。在身之左方。左手猛向前推。右手用力下垂。使槍尖直刺甲方左腿下部。其姿式與上式不變。唯此時右足在後。而胸已轉向起點右方。同時甲方。左手棍頭。與槍樽相絞。見槍照腿部刺來。右足猛向前開一步。左肘曲。棍頭向上。右手下沈。使棍尾向下。右手向前一推。使棍尾猛抵乙槍。兩膝均曲。仍成騎馬式。其姿式與前相同。唯此時右足在前。胸已轉向起點右方。其式如第二十六圖。
The end of B’s spear and the head of A’s staff are coiling upward (spear on top, staff underneath).
  B, once they are at head level, withdraw the end of your spear by lifting it high, your right foot withdrawing a step behind you, your left hand sinking down, the arm straightening, pointing the tip of your spear downward to your left, and then your left hand fiercely pushes forward, your right hand forcefully dropping downward, sending the tip of your spear stabbing toward A’s left lower leg. The posture is the same as before [Movement 24], your right foot behind, your chest turned to be facing toward the north.
  A, your left hand is holding the head of your staff as it coils with the end of B’s spear, and then when you see the stab coming toward your leg, your right foot suddenly takes a step forward, your left elbow bending, sending the head of your staff upward, your right hand sinking down, sending the tail of your staff downward, and your right hand pushes the tail forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear. Both knees are bending, again making a horse-riding stance, the posture the same as before [Movement 24], your right foot forward, your chest turned to be facing toward the north. See photo 26:

第二十七動作
MOVEMENT 27:

甲方不停。同時將槍抵出。左手鬆開。右手抵住。用力使棍頭經上方向前直劈。上身亦向前探。左手隨棍停於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。手心向上。兩足不動。及一切姿式與前不變。同時乙方見棍照頭部劈來。右足向起點右後方猛撤一小步。左足亦隨撤一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。兩膝伸直。上身向右方微斜。同時將槍縮回。右手在右脇後下方。微隨左手。左手向外擰勁。使槍尖向外猛扣甲棍。左手心向起點左方。胸向起點左前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲其。方式如第二十七圖。
A, without pausing after bracing away B’s spear, your left hand lets go and your right hand forcefully sends the head of your staff upward and chopping forward, your upper body also leaning forward, your left hand following your staff to stop above your head, fingers extended but still together, the center of the hand facing upward, your feet staying where they are, your stance not changing from the previous posture.
  B, when you see A’s staff chopping toward your head, your right foot suddenly withdraws a small step toward the northeast, then your left foot also withdraws a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down, both knees straightening, your upper body slightly leaning toward the south. At the same time, your spear withdraws, your right hand going behind and below your right ribs, and your left hand slightly twists outward, sending the tip of your spear outward to suddenly cover A’s staff, the center of your left hand facing toward the south. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 27:

第二十八動作
MOVEMENT 28:

甲方不停。卽向起點前方開步進行。姿式左手仍在頭部上方。胸向起點右前方。面由右方轉向後。兩目注視乙方。同時右手及棍。在身後。胳膊伸直。棍頭觸地。向起點正後方。胳膊與棍成直線。同時乙方姿式不變。向前開步。(起點前面)直追(甲乙兩方、開步多寡、視場之大小而定)甲方走至場之另一端。乙方用力照甲方頭部直刺。乙方左足在前。甲方見槍刺來。止步。右足在前。左足在後。右手用力使棍之中段。向上猛托。右手朝上伸直。微向起點後方。手心向上。棍頭向起點左後下方。同時右足向後退回一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點右後方。左手仍在頭上不變。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十八圖。
A, without pausing, advance [retreat] toward the west, your left hand still above your head. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. At the same time, your right hand and your staff follow your body back, the arm straightening, the head of your staff touching the ground toward the east, the arm and staff together making a straight line.
  B, maintaining your posture, chase toward the west as A walks to that end of the practice space (the amount of steps for both of you depending on the size of the practice space), and forcefully stab toward his head, your left foot again going forward.
  A, when you see the stab coming, bring your feet to a halt with your right foot forward, left foot behind, as your right hand forcefully sends the middle section of your staff propping upward, the arm extending upward and slightly toward the east, the center of the hand facing upward, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southeast. At the same time, your right foot retreats a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your left hand still positioned above your head, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 28:

第二十九動作
MOVEMENT 29:

乙方將槍縮回。兩足不動。復照甲方右腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。右足向起點前方猛撤一步。膝蓋弓曲。左足不動。原地向右擰勁。使足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。兩足距離約三尺。(隨身之高矮而定)使全身重點。移於右腿。右手用力擰。使棍頭向後旋轉。經頭上。至面前朝下猛捕。同時右手亦抓棍之中段。用力向下按。胳膊伸直。手心向下。右手心向裏。肘微曲。腰部微向前曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。此時乙方姿式。左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右腿在後伸直。手心向上。右手持槍樽。在左手之後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。以上姿式。與第二十三圖動作相同。其式如第二十九圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then fiercely stab downward toward A’s right leg.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step toward the west, the knee bending, your left foot staying where it is and pivoting to the right so the toes are pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your feet about three feet apart (depending on your own height), the weight shifting to your right leg. At the same time, your right hand forcefully twists, sending the head of your staff arcing behind you, passing over your head, and fiercely seizing downward once in front of your face, your right [left] hand also grasping the middle section of your staff and forcefully pushing it down, the arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, the center of your right hand facing inward, the elbow slightly bent, your torso slightly bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  At this time, B’s posture is thus: your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, your right leg straightened behind, [your left hand forward,] the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand holding the end of your spear about half a foot behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. This posture is the same as in photo 23. See photo 29:

第三十動作
MOVEMENT 30:

乙方將槍縮回。使右手向後伸直。左手移抓槍之上段。同時左足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向起點前方開一步。此時胸已向起點左方。左手沈下。右手由後向前。(此時右手移抓槍之中段)使槍樽照甲方頭部猛劈。左手曲肘。手心向上。右手在前。肘微曲。手心向下。胸向起點左方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方見槍樽劈來。兩足向前猛進一小步。雙手持棍。猛向上架。右手向上伸直。左肘微曲。向前上方伸。兩手心均向起點左後方。使棍尾高於棍頭約一尺五六寸。棍頭向起點右後下方。胸向起點左後方。右膝彎曲。足尖向起點左方。左膝在前。伸直。足尖向起點左後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方其式如第三十圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your right arm straightening behind, your left hand shifting its grip to the forward section of your spear. At the same, your left toes swing outward and your right foot takes a step toward the west from behind your left foot. With your chest now facing toward the south, your left hand is sinking down and your right hand comes forward from behind (shifting its grip to the middle section), sending the end of your spear fiercely chopping toward A’s head. Your left elbow is bent, the center of the hand facing upward, and your right hand is forward, the elbow slightly bent, the center of the hand facing downward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the end of B’s spear chopping toward you, your feet both advance a small step forward as you fiercely prop up your staff with both hands, your right arm straightening upward, your left elbow slightly bent as it extends forward and upward, the centers of both hands facing toward the southeast as you put the tail of your staff about a foot and a half higher than the head of your staff, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the northeast. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your right knee bending, the toes pointing toward the south, your left knee straightened in front, the toes pointing toward the southeast. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 30 [reverse view]:

第三十一動作
MOVEMENT 31:

甲方左手沈下。右足在左足後面。向起點後方開一步。右手向前按。使棍尾照乙方頭部直劈。左肘彎曲。手心向下。使左肘緊挾棍頭。於左脇上端。右手在前。肘微曲。手心向下。斯時右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方右足猛撤一步。右手抬起。復移抓槍樽。使槍樽向上。同時左手伸直。向上托。使槍中段。猛架甲棍。此時右手向上。手心朝起點右前方。左手在前伸直。向起點左前上方。手心向上。槍樽高於槍尖約一尺七八寸。槍尖向起點左前下方。右腿在後伸直。左腿亦伸直。唯足踵微提起。足尖觸地。上身向後微閃。胸向起點右前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第三十一圖。
A, your left hand sinks down as your right foot takes a step toward the east from behind your left foot, your right hand pushing forward, sending the tail of your staff chopping toward B’s head. Your left elbow is bent, the center of the hand facing downward, the elbow wrapping the head of your staff to your left ribs. Your right hand is forward, the elbow slightly bent, the center of the hand facing downward. Your right knee in front is bent, left leg straight, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step, your right hand lifting, shifting its grip to the end of your spear, and sending it upward, your left hand at the same time extending and propping up, sending the middle section of your spear to fiercely prop away A’s staff. Your right hand is now above, the center of the hand facing toward the northwest, your left hand forward, the arm straight, pointing toward the southwest, the center of the hand facing upward, the end of your spear about a foot and three quarters higher than the tip, the tip pointing downward toward the southwest. Your right leg is straightening behind, your left leg also straightening, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down, your upper body slightly dodging back. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 31:

第三十二動作
MOVEMENT 32:

同時乙方。左手向裏擰。使槍尖向裏裹。棍尾裹至乙槍在上。棍尾在下。甲方兩足不動。左手鬆開沈下。復伸至頭部上方。五指伸直並攏。手心向上。右手用力。使棍頭由後經上方。照乙頭部直劈。上身微向前探。同時乙方。左手向左用力。使槍向左猛掛。右手槍樽在後。微隨。使槍尖向上。兩方其餘姿式。與前不變。其式如第三十二圖。
B, your left hand twists inward, causing the tip of your spear to wrap inward, wrapping around the tail of A’s staff until the spear is on top and the staff is underneath.
  A, with your feet staying where they are, your left hand lets go and sinks down, then extends until above your head, the fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward, as your right hand forcefully sends the head of your staff behind you, passing over you, and chopping toward B’s head, your upper body slightly reaching forward.
  B, your left hand forcefully goes to the left, sending your spear across with a sudden hanging action, your right hand at the end of your spear slightly following, causing the tip of your spear to go upward. The rest of the posture is the same as before [Movement 21]. See photo 32:

第三十三動作
MOVEMENT 33:

甲方。右手持棍。在前。左手抓棍尾。用力向乙方左腿下部打一掃蹚。同時乙方高跳。右足先觸地。由左方旋轉一圈。使胸復向起點前方。左足再向前觸地。此時雙手挺槍。復照甲方腿部猛刺。右腿在後伸直。左膝彎曲。成小前弓後箭步。左手在前。手心向上。右手在後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。左足不動。右足微向起點左方。橫移一小步。膝蓋伸直。左膝微曲。左手鬆開。置於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。右手持棍。使棍頭在前觸地。不動。胳膊伸直。向起點右方猛撥。右手反背。使手心向起點左方。胸向起點右方。棍尾直向上。胳膊橫平。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第三十三圖。
A, with your right hand still holding your staff, your left hand comes forward to also take hold of the tail section and you forcefully do a “sweeping the hall” attack toward B’s lower left leg.
  B, jump high, your right foot coming down first, [your torso] turning from the left so that your chest is facing toward the west as your left foot comes down forward and you extend your spear with both hands, fiercely stabbing toward A’s [right] leg, your right leg straightening behind, left knee bending, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your left hand is forward, the center of the hand facing upward, right hand behind, about half a foot away from your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A.
  A, your left foot stays where it is as your right foot slightly shifts across a small step toward the south, the knee straightening, your left knee slightly bending. Your left hand lets go and is placed above your head, the fingers extended but together, as your right hand puts the head of your staff firmly onto the ground and the arm straightens, suddenly deflecting toward the north, the hand turned over so the center of the hand is facing toward the south. Your chest is facing toward the north, the tail of your staff pointing upward, your [right] arm horizontal. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 33:

第三十四動作
MOVEMENT 34:

甲方將槍撥出。右手用力。使棍頭由身後。經頭上向乙方頭部直劈。其餘姿式。與前不變。唯該時上身向前探。右膝彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。同時乙方復將槍縮回。全體隨向後縮。左手將槍抬起。朝上猛向左帶。其姿式與前第二十一圖相同。其式如第三十四圖。
A, after deflecting B’s spear away, your right hand forcefully sends the head of your staff from behind your body, over your head, and chopping straight toward B’s head. The rest of the posture is the same as before [Movement 21], except that this time your upper body is reaching forward. Your right knee is bent, left leg straight, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow.
  B, withdraw your spear, your body also withdrawing, your left hand lifting your spear, the hand facing upward, and fiercely drag to the left. This posture is the same as in photo 21. See photo 34:

第三十五動作
MOVEMENT 35:

甲方不停。卽向起點前方開步。進行姿式。左手仍在頭部上方。胸向起點右前方。面由右方轉向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時右手及棍。在身後。隨胳膊伸直。棍頭觸地。向起點正後方。胳膊與棍成直線。同時乙方姿式不變。向前開步。(起點前面)直追(甲乙兩方、開步多寡、視練習場之大小而定)甲方。走至練習場之另一端。乙方用力照甲方頭部直刺。乙方左足在前。甲方見槍刺來。止步。右足在前。左足在後。右手用力使棍之中段。向上猛托。右手朝上伸直。微向起點後方。手心向上。棍頭向起點左後下方。右足向後退回一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點右後方。左手仍在頭上不變。兩目注視乙槍。以上姿式及動作。與前第二十二圖相同。其式如第三十五圖。
A, without pausing, advance [retreat] toward the west, your left hand still above your head. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. At the same time, your right hand and your staff follow your body back, the arm straightening, the head of your staff touching the ground toward the east, the arm and staff together making a straight line.
  B, maintaining your posture, chase toward the west as A walks to that end of the practice space (the amount of steps for both of you depending on the size of the practice space), and forcefully stab toward his head, your left foot again going forward.
  A, when you see the stab coming, bring your feet to a halt with your right foot forward, left foot behind, as your right hand forcefully sends the middle section of your staff propping upward, the arm extending upward and slightly toward the east, the center of the hand facing upward, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southeast. At the same time, your right foot retreats a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your left hand still positioned above your head, your gaze toward B’s spear. The posture and movement is the same as for photo 22. See photo 35:

第三十六動作
MOVEMENT 36:

乙方將槍縮回。兩足不動。復照甲方右腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。右足向起點前方猛撤一步。膝蓋弓曲。左足不動。原地向右擰勁。使足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。兩足距離約三尺。(然亦隨身體高矮而定)使全身重點。移於右腿。右手用力擰。使棍頭向後旋轉。經頭上朝下猛捕。同時左手亦抓棍之中段。用力向下按。胳膊伸直。手心向下。右手心向裏。肘微曲。腰部微向前曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。此時乙方姿式。左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右腿在後伸直。上身微向前探。左手在前伸直。手心向上。右手持槍樽。在左手之後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其姿式動作。與前第二十三圖相同。其式如第三十六圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then fiercely stab downward toward A’s right leg.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step toward the west, the knee bending, your left foot staying where it is and pivoting to the right so the toes are pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your feet about three feet apart (depending on your own height), the weight shifting to your right leg. At the same time, your right hand forcefully twists, sending the head of your staff arcing behind you, passing over your head, and fiercely seizing downward, your left hand also grasping the middle section of your staff and forcefully pushing it down, the arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, the center of your right hand facing inward, the elbow slightly bent, your torso slightly bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  At this time, B’s posture is thus: your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, your right leg straightened behind, your upper body slightly reaching forward, your left hand forward, the arm straight, the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand holding the end of your spear about half a foot behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. This posture is the same as in photo 23. See photo 36:

第三十七動作
MOVEMENT 37:

乙方不動。將槍縮回。復照甲方頭部直刺。甲方見槍刺來。右足不動。原地向左轉。使足尖向起點後方。左足縮回半步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。膝蓋微曲。兩足距離約一尺餘。同時左手持棍抬起。使棍向身之左方猛帶。手心向起點後方。胸亦向起點後方。右手棍尾。伏於右脅下部。面向起點後方。同時乙方。復將槍縮回。兩足不動。又照甲方左腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向起點後方開一步。兩膝蓋彎曲。成騎馬式。右手棍尾。在右足開步之際。使棍尾向前猛抵乙槍。兩足均向起點右方。胸亦向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙槍。其姿式與前第二十四圖相同。其式如第三十七圖。
B, staying where you are, withdraw your spear, then stab straight toward A’s head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot stays where it is and pivots to the left so the toes are pointing toward the east, your left foot withdrawing a half step, heel lifted, toes touching down, the knee slightly bent, your feet just over a foot apart. At the same time, your left hand lifts the [head] of your staff, fiercely dragging to your left, the center of the hand facing toward the east, as is your chest, your right hand holding the tail of your staff hidden below your right ribs. You are facing toward the east.
  B, again withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, and then fiercely stab downward toward A’s left leg.
  A, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south, the toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step toward the east from behind your left foot, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance. As your right foot steps out, your right hand sends the tail of your staff forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, your feet pointing toward the north. Your chest is also facing toward the north, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear. The posture is the same as in photo 24. See photo 37:

第十章
(CHAPTER TEN)

第三十八動作
MOVEMENT 38:

同時乙方槍樽。與甲方棍頭向上絞。槍樽在上。棍頭在下。絞至與頭平。乙方槍樽縮回。提高。同時右足向後再撤一步。左手沈下伸直。使槍尖朝下。在身之左手。猛向前推。右手用力下捶。使槍尖直刺甲方左腿下部。其姿式與前不變。唯此時右足在後。而胸已轉向起點右方。同時甲方。左手棍頭與槍樽相絞。見槍刺來。右足猛向前開一步。同時左肘曲。棍頭抬起。向上。右手下沈。使棍尾向下。右手向前一推。使棍尾猛抵乙槍。兩膝彎曲。仍成騎馬式。唯此時。右足在前。胸已向起點右方。以上姿式。與前第二十六圖相同。其式如第三十八圖。
The end of B’s spear and the head of A’s staff are coiling upward, spear on top, staff underneath. B, once they are at head level, withdraw the end of your spear by lifting it high, your right foot withdrawing a step behind you [your left foot following], your left hand sinking down, the arm straightening, pointing the tip of your spear downward to your left, and then your left hand fiercely pushes forward, your right hand forcefully dropping downward, sending the tip of your spear stabbing toward A’s left lower leg. The posture is the same as in the previous movement, your right foot behind, your chest facing toward the north.
  A, your left hand is holding the head of your staff as it coils with the end of B’s spear, and then when you see the stab coming, your right foot suddenly shifts a step forward [your left foot following], your left elbow bending, sending the head of your staff upward, your right hand sinking down, sending the tail of your staff downward, and your right hand pushes the tail forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear. Both knees are bending, again making a horse-riding stance, your right foot forward, your chest facing toward the north. The posture is the same as in photo 26 [which is itself a repeat of photo 24 and was just reused for Movement 37]. See photo 38 [in this case a reverse view]:

第三十九動作
MOVEMENT 39:

甲方不停。左手鬆開。移抓右手後方棍尾。右手在前。兩手用力。使棍頭經上方向前。照乙方左肩斜劈。同時上身亦向前探。兩足不動。其餘姿式與前不變。乙方右手槍樽。縮回右脅後下方。左手用力。將槍抬起。向身之左方猛帶。左肘曲。手心向起點後方。右手沈。同時右足不動。膝蓋彎曲。左足向後退回半步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點正前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第三十九圖。
A, without pausing, your left hand lets go and shifts its grip to the tail of your staff behind your right hand, your right hand now forward, and both hands forcefully send the head of your staff forward from above, chopping diagonally toward B’s left shoulder, your upper body reaching forward, your feet staying where they are. The rest of the posture remains the same as in the previous movement.
  B, your right hand withdraws the end of your spear below and behind your right ribs as your left hand forcefully lifts your spear into a sudden dragging action to your left, the elbow bending, the center of the hand facing toward the east, your right hand sinking. At the same time, your right foot stays where it is, the knee bending, your left foot withdrawing a half step, heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 39:

第四十動作
MOVEMENT 40:

甲方仍雙手持棍。右手在前。將棍抬起。復照乙方左腿下方打一掃蹚。同時乙方。雙腿高跳。此時棍已轉甲之左方。甲方兩足不動。復將棍抬起。又照乙方頭部直劈。右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點後方。面亦向後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方雙手持槍。向上猛托。兩手朝上伸直。右足在前。膝蓋彎曲。左足在後伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第四十圖。
A, still with both hands holding your staff, your right hand forward, lift your staff, then attack B’s lower left leg with a “sweeping the hall” action.
  B, jump high with both legs, letting A’s staff arc through toward the north.
  A, with your feet staying where they are, lift your staff and then chop toward B’s head, your right knee bending forward, left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the east, your face also toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, your hands send your spear fiercely propping up, your arms straightening upward, your right knee bending forward, your left leg straightening behind, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 40:

第四十一動作
MOVEMENT 41:

乙方雙手沈下。挺槍照甲方頭額直刺。其姿式與前不變。同時甲方見槍刺來。右足向左足後方。猛撤一步。同時雙手縮回。使棍頭朝上。猛向右帶。此時左膝微曲。右足在前伸直。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十一圖。
B, your hands sink down and you extend your spear with a stab toward A’s forehead, the [rest of] your posture remaining the same as in the previous movement.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step behind your left foot [withdraws a half step in front of your left foot] as your hands also withdraw, sending the head of your staff upward and fiercely dragging to the right, your left knee slightly bending, your right leg straightening in front, the heel slightly lifting, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 41:

第四十二動作
MOVEMENT 42:

乙方復將槍縮回。姿式不變。又照甲方左腿下部直刺。同時甲方。左足向起點右方橫移一小步。兩手擰勁。使棍頭在上。朝下猛捕。右足不動。膝蓋向下曲。左足向起點右後方伸直。足尖向起點左後方。腰部向前曲。此時右手在前。手心向下。左手在後。手心向上。兩胳膊成斜十字架。右手在上。左手在下。兩手距離約五六寸。棍頭向右後方。觸地。胸向起點左後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十二圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your posture not changing, and then stab downward toward A’s left [right] leg.
  A, your left [right] foot shifts a small step across toward the north as your hands twist, sending the head of your staff from above to fiercely seize downward, your right foot now staying where it is, the knee bending downward, as your left leg straightens toward the northeast, the toes pointing toward the southeast, your upper body slightly leaning forward. Your right hand is now in front, the center of the hand facing downward, your left hand behind, the center of the hand facing upward, your forearms making an X shape, right arm above, left arm below, your hands about half a foot apart. The head of your staff is touching the ground toward the southwest [northeast]. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 42:

第四十三動作
MOVEMENT 43:

乙方姿式不變。將槍縮回。復照甲方頭額左端直刺。同時甲方站起。雙手持棍。與前不變。向上猛托。兩胳膊均向上伸直。棍頭向起點右後下方。胸向起點左後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十三圖。
B, without changing your posture, withdraw your spear, then stab toward the left side of A’s forehead.
  A, rise up with both hands holding your staff, their position not changing, and fiercely prop up B’s spear, your arms straightening upward, the head of your staff pointing downward [upward] toward the northeast. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 43:

第四十四動作
MOVEMENT 44 [switching places]:

承上式。甲方將槍托出。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向前開一步。雙手持棍。與前不變。用力使棍頭。經後旋轉。由右方橫向乙方腰部。攔腰一棍。(此時胸已由左轉、向起點右方、左足轉向前右足在後)在攔腰之際。同時左足。再由右足前方。向後撤一步。右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點正前方。雙手在前抓棍伸直。右手心向上。左手在後向下。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方見棍照攔腰打來。左手抬起。使槍尖向上。右手下沈。左足向起點右方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後面。向前開一步。及時原地向左轉。使胸向起點後方。(此時左足轉向前、右足在後)同時左足在前。向右足後方撤一步。右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右方。在右足向前開步之際。兩手用力。使槍中段。猛抵甲棍。面向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第四十四圖。
A, continuing from the previous posture, having propped away A’s spear, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot, your hands not changing their position on your staff as they forcefully send the head of your staff arcing behind you and then swinging across toward B’s waist from your right. (In this instant, your chest is turning leftward to be facing toward the north so that as your left foot is turning in front of you, your right foot is momentarily becoming the rear foot.) Then as you swing across to his waist, your left foot withdraws behind your right foot [causing you to fully switch places with B], your right knee bending in front, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the east, your hands extending your staff forward with the center of your right hand facing upward, your left hand behind, the center of the hand facing downward. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see A’s staff swinging toward your waist, your left hand lifts, sending the tip of your spear upward, your right hand sinking down, as your left foot shifts a small step across toward the north, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot. (In this instant, your chest is turning leftward to be facing toward the east so that as your left foot is turning in front of you, your right foot is momentarily becoming the rear foot.) Then your left foot withdraws to be behind your right foot [causing you to fully switch places with A], your right knee bending in front, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the north. As your right foot steps forward, your hands forcefully send the middle section of your spear to suddenly brace away A’s staff. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward A. See photo 44:

第四十五動作
MOVEMENT 45:

乙方右足向後撤一步。同時右手槍樽。後縮。左手沈下。挺槍照甲方頭額右端直刺。同時甲方。仍雙手持棍。向上猛托。兩手朝上過頂。使棍頭向起點右前下方。右足退回半步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。上身微向後縮。胸仍向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十五圖。
B, your right foot withdraws a step as your right hand withdraws the end of your spear, your left hand sinking down, then extend your spear, stabbing toward the right side of A’s forehead.
  A, still holding your staff with both hands, fiercely prop up, your hands going higher than your headtop, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the northwest, your right foot withdrawing a half step, heel lifted, toes touching down, your upper body slightly withdrawing. Your chest is again facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 45:

第四十六動作
MOVEMENT 46:

乙方將槍縮回。復照甲方腿部下方直刺。其姿式與前不變。甲方見槍刺來。同時右足。向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。左足由右足後方。向前開一步。雙手持棍。用力使棍頭。由後經上方。向前猛捕。棍頭在前觸地。右手在前。手心向下。左手在後。手心向上。兩手成斜十字。右手在上。左手在下。兩手距離約五六寸。左腿在前伸直。右足曲膝。上身向前撲。使全身重點。移於右腿。胸向起點右前方。面向起點正前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十六圖。
B, withdraw your spear and then stab downward toward A’s [right] leg, the rest of your posture remaining the same as in the previous movement.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot shifts a small step across toward the south, toes swinging outward, and your left foot takes a step forward from behind your right foot, as your hands forcefully send the head of your staff to the rear, continuing over you, and then fiercely seizing forward, the head of your staff touching the ground. Your right hand is in front, the center of the hand facing downward, your left hand behind, the center of the hand facing upward, your forearms making an X shape, right arm above, left hand below, your hands about half a foot apart. Your left leg is forward and straightened, your right knee bending, and your upper body is leaning forward, the weight on your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 46 [reverse view]:

第四十七動作
MOVEMENT 47:

同時乙方。復將槍縮回。又照甲方頭額直刺。姿式與前相同。此時甲方全身提起。左足退回一小步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。雙手原處不動。抬起。向上使棍中段。猛抵乙槍。棍頭向起點左前下方。胸向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十七圖。
B, withdraw your spear and then stab toward A’s forehead, the rest of your posture remaining the same as in the previous movement.
  A, your body rises and your left foot retreats a small step, heel lifted, toes touching down, as your hands lift, not changing their position, sending the middle of your staff upward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, the head of your staff pointing downward [upward] toward the southwest. Your chest is facing toward the west [northwest]. Your gaze is toward B. See photo 47 [reverse view]:

第四十八動作
MOVEMENT 48:

甲方左足向起點右方橫一小步。足尖向外撇。右足由左足後方。向前開一步。同時雙手持棍。經右方。照乙方左腿下部猛掃。兩手在前伸直。右足在前。膝蓋彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左前方。面向起點正前方。兩目注視乙腿。同時乙方。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向前開一步。同時右手沈下。左手抬起。使槍尖向上。右手上移向前推。猛抵甲棍。右足在前曲膝。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右後方。兩目注視甲棍。其式如第四十八圖。
A, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the north, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot as your hands send your staff swinging through on your right side and fiercely sweeping toward B’s left leg, both hands going forward, your arms straightening. Your right foot is forward, the knee bending, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow [although the photo shows A in a horse-riding stance]. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s leg.
  B, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south [steps back toward the east], toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot [shifts forward, toes swinging inward]. At the same time, your right hand sinks down and your left hand lifts, sending the tip of your spear upward, your right hand then shifting upward, and you push forward, fiercely bracing away A’s staff. Your right foot is forward, the knee bending, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow [although the photo shows B in a horse-riding stance]. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your gaze toward A’s staff. See photo 48:

第四十九動作
MOVEMENT 49:

乙方右手槍提起。縮回右脅後方。同時右足向後撤一步。左手下沈。挺直照甲方頭額直刺。左腿在前曲膝。右腿在後伸直。成小前弓後箭步。胸向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。見槍照頭部刺來。兩足不動。上身向後縮。使右腿伸直。左腿弓曲。成左弓右箭步。同時雙手持棍。向上猛托乙槍。胸向起點左前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十九圖。
B, your right hand lifts your spear, withdrawing it behind your right ribs, your right foot withdrawing a step behind you, your left hand sinking down. Then extend, stabbing toward A’s forehead, your left leg bending in front, right leg straightening behind, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your feet stay where they are, your upper body withdrawing, your right leg straightening, left leg bending, making a stance of left leg a bow, right leg an arrow. At the same time, your hands send your staff upward, fiercely propping away B’s spear. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 49 [reverse view]:

第五十動作
MOVEMENT 50:

同時乙方。見槍托出不停。復將槍縮回。又照甲方腿部直刺。(此時右手單手直砍、左手鬆開、停於頭部上方、五指伸開並攏、手心向上)右手挺槍之際。左足向後撤一步。膝蓋彎曲。右腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右後方。面向起點正後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方不停。右足經左足前面。向起點後方橫開一步。左足亦向起點後方橫開一步。同時右手持棍。向裏擰勁。(左手鬆開)使棍頭朝裏向外猛掛。左手停於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。手心向上。此時左足曲膝。右腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左前方。面向起點正前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第五十圖。
B, when you see A’s staff propping up, do not pause, instead withdraw your spear and then stab toward A’s [right] leg. (This time, your right hand works alone, your left hand coming away and finishing above your head, fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward.) As your right hand extends your spear, your left foot withdraws a step and the knee bends, your right leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward A.
  A, also without pausing, your right foot takes a step toward the east, passing in front of your left foot, then your left foot also takes a step toward the east. At the same time, your right hand holds your staff (your left hand letting go), twisting inward so that the head of your staff goes inward, then it fiercely goes outward with a hanging action, your left hand finishing above your head, fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward. Your left knee is bent, your right leg straightened, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 50:

STAFF VERSUS SPEAR

棍進槍
STAFF VERSUS SPEAR
蘭晉如
by Lan Jinru
[Chapters 7–10 of An Authentic Description of Shaolin Staff Methods, published Jan, 1930]

[translation by Paul Brennan, Nov, 2018]

第七章 棍進槍
CHAPTER SEVEN [CHAPTERS 7–10]: STAFF VERSUS SPEAR

開門式 第一動作
OPENING POSTURE / MOVEMENT 1

甲方。(卽持棍人)雙手持棍。右手持棍尾在胸前。手心向下。左手抓棍身。在身後。手心向裏。使棍斜伏於左脇。站於練習場一端起點之左方。(指甲方所在任何一端正中為起點乙方亦然)左足在前。兩足距離約一尺餘。兩膝蓋微曲。左足踵提起。足尖觸地。全體重點。移於右腿。胸向右方。(起點右面)兩目注視乙方。(卽持槍人)微停。右足向前開一步。左足向前開一步。仍是足尖觸地。足踵提起。同時右手棍尾。左手棍頭。初在右足開步之際。各貼身傍畫一大圓圈。(棍尾經後向下旋轉棍頭經前向上旋轉)復於原處。其姿式與前同從略。同時乙方。(卽持槍人)雙手持槍。右手抓槍樽。曲肘。使槍樽緊貼右脇後方。手心向裏。左手抓槍身下端。胳膊向前伸直。手心向上。兩手距離約二尺餘。使槍尖橫向甲方。站於練習場另端之右前方。(起點右前面)右腿站直。左足在前。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺四五寸。胸向起點左方。兩目注視甲方。微停。雙手將槍舉起過頂。左手鬆開。沈下。同時右足向左前方。(起點左前面)橫開一步。(觸地後足尖向起點左前方)左足再向起點右前方開一步。原地再向右轉。使全體由右方轉一小圈。前胸仍向原方。(唯此時右足已在前方)右膝弓曲。左腿在後伸直。成前弓後箭步。同時右手及槍。落於胸前曲肘。使槍樽伏於右脇後方。手心向裏。同時左手在胸前接槍。手心向上。朝裏擰勁。擰至手心向下。同槍尖向外一叩。兩手距離約二尺餘。槍頭仍向甲方。其式如第一圖。
Person A (holding the staff), hold your staff with both hands, your right hand holding the tail of your staff in front of your chest, the center of the hand facing downward, your left hand grasping the body of your staff behind you, the center of the hand facing inward, causing your staff to be making a diagonal line against your left ribs. [Presumably due to the different authorship of this section, the “head” and “tail” of the staff are reversed to the tail being the thicker end and the head being the thinner end, something to keep in mind while studying these movement descriptions.] Your position in the practice space is in the southeast. (The orientations in these descriptions are assigned according to A’s perspective [in his initial position], even those for B.) [Being a clumsy way to establish orientations for a set in which two people switch places, I have replaced them with simple compass directions, same as for the Staff Versus Staff set (Chapters 2–6). However, in this section Person A instead begins on the left side of photo 1, causing the compass for the photos to be reversed. Also, the photos the Staff Versus Staff section maintain their orientations, whereas in this section there are several reverse views, causing the compass to flip again. Therefore for most of the photos, there is this compass:

S
E    –↑–   W
N

South is the back of the photo, north being the photographer, west on the right side, east on the left side. But for photos 15, 17, 25, 30, 38, 46, 47, and 49, there is the same compass as for all of the Staff Versus Staff photos:

N
W   –↑–    E
S

North in these cases is the back of the photo, south being the photographer, east on the right side, west on the left side.] Your left foot is forward, your feet just over a foot apart, both knees slightly bent, your left heel lifted, toes touching down, the weight on your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the north, your gaze toward B, and you slightly pause in this position.
  Your right foot takes a step forward, then your left foot takes a step forward, toes again touching down, heel lifted. At the same time, your hands draw a large circle with your staff (your right hand holding the tail of your staff, your left hand holding the head of your staff), keeping it close to each side of your body, the tail of your staff arcing downward to the rear [on your right side] as the head of your staff arcs forward and upward [on your left side], then returning to the same position as before.
  Person B (holding the spear), at the same time as A’s movement, you are holding your spear with both hands, your right hand grasping the end of your spear, the elbow bent, putting the end of your spear close behind your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, your left hand grasping the body of your spear toward the forward section, the arm straightened forward, the center of the hand facing upward, your hands just over two feet apart, the tip of your spear pointing toward A with the blade horizontal. Your position in the practice space is in the northwest, your right leg standing straight, your left foot forward, heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet about a foot and a half apart. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward A, and you likewise slightly pause in your position.
  Your hands lift your spear above your head, your left hand letting go and sinking down, while your right foot takes a step sideways toward the southwest (coming down with the toes pointing toward the southwest) and then your left foot takes a step toward the northwest [thereby moving you farther away from A], turning you to your right from your original position with a small turn of your body toward the south, your chest still facing the same direction as before (except that now your right foot is forward), your right knee bending, left leg straightening behind, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. At the same time, your right hand lowers in front of your chest, the elbow bending, bringing the end of your spear close behind your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, as your left hand grabs your spear in front, the center of the hand facing upward, and twists inward until the center of the hand is facing downward, sending the tip of your spear outward with a snap, your hands just over two feet apart, the tip of your spear again pointing toward A. See photo 1 [each of these photos indicating 甲者 Person A (Chen Fengqi, who was also Person A in the Staff Versus Staff section) and 乙者 Person B (Liu Junling)]:

第二動作
MOVEMENT 2:

乙方承式向前進步。挺槍照甲方頭額直刺。(進步多寡以場之大小而定)同時甲方。亦向前進步。(兩方集於場之中間)待乙槍刺來。兩手托棍。向頭上猛架乙槍。左足在前。膝蓋伸直。右腿微曲。兩足距離約一尺五六寸。腰部微向後縮。左手朝上。伸直。微向前方。手心向起點右前方。五指伸開。伏於棍之兩旁。右手向上伸。肘微曲。使棍頭向身左前下方。胸向起點右前方。兩目注視乙方。乙方刺槍時。右手用力猛砍左手。在胸前扶之。右手砍至離左手約四五寸為止。左足在前。膝蓋弓曲。右腿伸直。成小前弓後箭步。兩足距離約一尺七八寸。上身微向前探。兩目注視甲方。其式如第二圖。
B, continuing from the previous posture, advance, (the number of steps you advance depending on the size of the practice space) and extend your spear with a stab toward A’s forehead.
  A, you are also advancing (so that the two of you are now more toward the middle of the practice space). When you see the stab coming, your hands prop up over your head, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, your left foot forward, the knee straightening, your right leg slightly bending, your feet about a foot and a half apart, your waist slightly shrinking back. Your left arm is straightening upward and slightly forward, the center of the hand facing toward the northwest, fingers extended and supporting on the side of your staff, your right arm extended upward, the elbow slightly bent, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southwest. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your gaze toward B.
  B, when stabbing, your right hand forcefully shoots out, your left hand supporting in front of your chest, your right hand finishing about half a foot away from your left hand. Your left foot is forward, the knee bending, your right leg straightening, making a small bow & arrow stance, your feet about a foot and three quarters apart. Your upper body is slightly reaching forward, your gaze toward A. See photo 2:

第三動作
MOVEMENT 3:

甲方將乙槍架出。承乙方下部空虛。甲方雙手持棍。左手仍在前由左向右。照乙方足部猛踏。同時乙方見棍踏來。兩足急向後跳一大步。該時右手槍樽。亦隨向後縮。至右脇。左手仍在胸前。手心向上。與前姿式不變。此時乙方。復進步挺槍。照甲方頭額直刺。左手不變。右手仍向前直砍。至離左手約四五寸為止。左足在前。仍成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。見槍刺來。乃由身之右方。使棍頭向左猛掛。右膝微曲。左足在前。足尖觸地。足踵提起。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點。移於右腿。棍頭向上。左肘彎曲。右手沈下。左手心向前。胸向起點。前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第三圖。
A, after bracing away B’s spear, take advantage of the gap at B’s lower body by using both hands to send your staff from left to right, your left hand staying forward, with a fierce smashing action toward B’s [front] foot [as your shift your weight forward onto your own front foot].
  B, when you see A’s staff smashing toward you, suddenly jump back a large step with both feet as your right hand draws back the end of your spear to your right ribs, your left hand still in front of your chest, the center of the hand facing upward. Then finish in the same posture as in the previous movement, advancing and stabbing toward A’s forehead, the position of your left hand not changing as your right hand again shoots forward, finishing about half a foot away from your left hand, your left foot forward, again making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the stab coming, send the head of your staff from right to left with a fierce hanging action, your right knee slightly bending, your left foot in front with its toes touching down, heel lifted, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifting onto your right leg. The head of your staff is pointing upward, your left elbow bending, your right hand sinking down, the center of your left hand facing forward. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 3:

第四動作
MOVEMENT 4:

甲方將槍掛出。遂卽雙手舉棍。由頭上至腦後。(此時左手鬆開下降右手單手持棍)右足向前開一步。同時右棍在腦後經身之右方。猛向乙方足部打一掃蹚。該時兩足距離約二尺。兩膝弓曲。成騎馬式。然腰部亦向前弓曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方見棍掃來。兩足猛向高跳。右手槍樽速縮至右脇後方。左手仍在前。手心向上。槍尖直向甲方。右膝彎曲。左足在前。膝亦微曲。足尖觸地。足踵提起。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點移於右腿。胸向左方。(起點左面)面向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第四圖。
A, after sending away B’s spear with a hanging action, raise your staff over your head with both hands and bring it behind your head (your left hand in this moment letting go and lowering, your right hand alone holding your staff). Then as your right foot takes a step toward the west, your right hand sends your staff from behind your head, passing the right side of your body, and suddenly attacking B’s foot with a “sweeping the hall” action, [your left hand correspondingly rising up,] your feet about two feet apart, both legs bending, making a horse-riding stance, but with your waist bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see A’s staff sweeping toward you, your feet suddenly jump up high and your right hand quickly withdraws the end of your spear behind your right ribs, your left hand still forward, the center of the hand facing upward, the tip of your spear pointing toward A. [When you land,] your right knee bends, your left foot forward, the knee also slightly bent, toes touching down, heel lifted, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifted onto your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward A. See photo 4:

第五動作
MOVEMENT 5:

乙方復跟步進前。(跟步云者卽左足向前開一步右足緊隨左足之後跟步也)照甲方右肩直刺。右手仍止於左手之後。約四五寸。其姿式。與前刺甲方之動作相同。該時甲方見槍刺來。遂用雙手持棍。左手在前。手心向外。反把將棍扣住。右手及棍尾緊伏於左脇之下。左手用力向身之右後方猛搜。槍尖全身微向右轉。同時右足向後縮半步。使胸向後方。(起點後面)左膝弓曲。右足在前。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺餘。身之重點。移於左腿。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第五圖。
B, advance with a follow step (meaning that your left foot steps out and your right foot closely follows behind it), stabbing straight toward A’s right shoulder, your right hand stopping about half a foot behind your left hand. This action of stabbing toward A is the same as in the previous posture.
  A, when you see the stab coming, hold your staff with both hands, your left hand going forward, the center of the hand facing outward, grabbing your staff with a covering grip, your right hand and the tail of your staff hiding below your left ribs, and your left hand forcefully goes toward your body’s right rear, fiercely seeking the tip of B’s spear, your body slightly turning to the right. At the same time, your right foot withdraws a half step, your chest facing toward the west, your left knee bending, your right foot in front, heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight on your left leg. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 5:

第六動作
MOVEMENT 6:

乙方。將槍仍縮回。兩足不動。復挺槍。照甲方右膝下部直刺。同時甲方見槍刺來。右足向身後猛撤一步。同時右手棍尾。急轉至右脇。使棍頭橫斜。朝下猛捕。使棍頭觸地。向左前方。(起點左前面)右膝曲。左腿伸直。兩足距離約二尺。兩足尖均向起點左方。前胸亦向起點左方。腰部微向前曲。兩目注視乙方。其式如第六圖。
B, again withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then extend your spear, stabbing toward A’s right shin.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot quickly withdraws a step behind you as your right hand draws an arc with the tail of your staff until it is at your right ribs, causing the head of your staff to go across diagonally, and fiercely seize downward, sending the head of your staff to touch the ground toward the southwest [northwest], your right knee bending, left leg straightening, your feet about two feet apart, the toes of both feet pointing toward the south [north]. Your chest is also facing toward the south [north], your torso slightly bending forward, your gaze toward B. See photo 6:

第七動作
MOVEMENT 7:

乙方左手前移。手心向上。右手縮回脇部後方。兩足不動。復照甲方頭額直刺。此時左手後移。右手向前直砍。止於左手後方約四五寸。同時甲方。見槍刺來。雙手執棍。猛向上托乙方之槍。左手朝上伸直。微向前。低於右手約五六寸。手心向右。(起點右面)五指伸開。伏於棍之旁。右手朝上。肘微曲。兩腿與前姿式不變。唯腰部抬起垂直。兩目注視乙方。其式如第七圖。
B, your left hand is shifted forward, the center of the hand facing upward, as your right hand withdraws behind your ribs, your feet staying where they are. Then stab toward A’s head, your left hand being shifted to the rear as your right hand shoots forward, stopping about half a foot behind your left hand.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your hands fiercely prop up B’s spear, your left hand going upward and slightly forward, the arm straightening, the hand about half a foot lower than your right hand, the center of the hand facing toward the north, fingers opened, supporting the side of your staff, your right hand going upward, the elbow slightly bent. Your legs do not change their position from the previous posture, but your torso lifts to become upright. Your gaze is toward B. See photo 7:

第八動作
MOVEMENT 8:

甲方將乙槍架出。同時左足尖朝外撇。使向起點左方。右足向前橫開一步。觸地。後足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。右膝曲。兩足距離約二尺餘。全身重點。移於左腿。在右足開步之際。左手沈下。右手執棍。在腦後。使棍由身後經右方。猛向乙方左足部打一掃蹚。同時乙方。左手微鬆。姿式與前不變。右手急仍縮囘右脇後方。同時見甲方照足部掃來。兩足猛向高跳。落地後。左足仍在前。兩足距離約一尺餘。兩膝微曲。胸向起點右前方。槍尖橫向甲方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方承打掃蹚之際。原地向左轉。使胸向起點後方。卽時右足在左足後方。向前開一步。左足再由右足後方。又向前開一步。膝蓋弓曲。右腿在後伸直。成小前弓後箭步。兩足距離一尺餘。在右足開步之際。右手棍。由右方。經前方。畫一大圓圈。折回。斜伏於左脇下部。棍頭向起點。前下方。離地約四五寸。棍尾與眼眉相平。左手在後伸直。手心向裏。右肘橫曲。手心向下。面目由左方。隨棍頭同時轉向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第八圖。
A, after propping away B’s spear, your left toes swing outward toward the south, then your right foot steps forward, the foot coming down sideways, the toes pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your right [left] knee bending, your feet just over two feet apart, the weight shifted onto your left leg. As your right foot steps out, your left hand sinks down and your right hand sends your staff past your head, behind your body, through the area to your right, and fiercely sweeping toward B’s left foot.
  B, your left hand slightly loosens, but your posture remains the same as your right hand withdraws behind your right ribs. When you see A’s staff sweeping toward your foot, your feet suddenly jump up high and come down to the rear, your left foot still forward, your feet just over a foot apart, both knees slightly bent. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, the tip of your spear pointing toward A, your gaze toward A.
  A, continuing from the sweep, turn around leftward so that your chest is facing toward the east, your right foot at the same time stepping forward from behind your left foot, your left foot then stepping forward from behind your right foot, the knee bending, your right leg straightening behind, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow, your feet just over a foot apart. As your right foot steps out, your right hand sends your staff from your right side and across in front of you, thereby completing a full circle, and bending in to point your staff diagonally downward below your left ribs. The head of your staff is pointing downward, about half a foot away from the ground, the tail of your staff at eyebrow level, your left arm straightening behind, the center of the hand facing inward, your right arm bending across, the center of the hand facing downward. Your face turns to the left as the head of your staff arcs toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 8:

第九動作
MOVEMENT 9:

乙方趁勢進步。追擊甲方。同時甲方。見乙方追來。以原式向起點後方退走。(開步之多寡以場之大小而定)乙方追至場之一端。挺槍直刺甲方頭部後腦。甲方見槍刺來。乃由右方。向後轉身。用棍經上方。掄起。照乙方頭部連封帶劈。同時左腿站直。足尖向起點右方。右足提起足尖下垂。伏於左膝裏外端。使右腿成三角形。胸向右方。(起點右面)同時隨右棍停於頭部上方。五指伸直。並攏。手心向上。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。該時乙方用槍直刺甲方。忽見甲方用棍劈來。乙方右足向後急退一小步。膝蓋曲。左足緊隨。兩足距離約七八寸。左足在前。足踵提起。足尖觸地。同時兩手緊抓槍樽。猛向上騰過頂。胳膊微曲。槍尖微低。向起點右後方。胸向起點左後方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第九圖。
B, take advantage of the opportunity by advancing, chasing to attack A. A, when you see B chasing, continue stepping toward the east to retreat away from him (the number of steps depending on the size of the practice space). B, once you have chased A all the way across the practice space [both of you finishing with your left foot forward], send your spear stabbing straight to the back of his head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, turn around rightward and roll your staff over, passing above you and continuing into a sealing chop toward B’s head. At the same time, your left leg straightens, the toes pointing toward the north, and your right foot lifts, the toes hanging down close to the inner side of your left knee, causing your right leg to form a triangle shape. Your chest is facing toward the north [south]. By the time your staff is over B’s head, [your left hand has raised,] the fingers straight and together, the center of the hand facing upward. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see A’s staff suddenly chopping toward you, your right foot quickly retreats a small step, the knee bends, and your left foot closely follows until your feet are about three quarters of a foot apart, your left foot in front, the heel lifted, toes touching down. At the same time, fiercely send the end of your spear upward over your head, your arms slightly bent, the tip of your spear slightly lower than the end and pointing toward the northeast. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your gaze toward A. See photo 9:

第十動作
MOVEMENT 10:

乙方。雙手沈下。同時將槍向下一扣。左手順槍桿。向前移。手心向上。右手貼於右脇後方。手心向裏。兩手距離約二尺餘。該時左足抬起。向前開一大步。右足緊隨半步。左膝曲。右腿伸直。成小前弓後箭步。同時右手猛向前伸。使槍尖照甲方直刺。右手仍停於左手後方。胸向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。見槍刺來。右足向前開一步。足尖朝外撇。右手棍由裏向上一裹。左足再向前開一步。成騎馬式。同時右手下沉。伏於右脇下方。手心向裏。使棍斜貼胸部。棍頭斜向上方。棍頭高於頭頂約一尺弱。在右棍向裏裹時。左手接棍中段向外猛科。手心向起點右方。胸亦向起點右方。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十圖。
B, your hands sink down, sending your spear covering downward, your left hand shifting forward along the shaft of your spear, the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand close behind your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, your hands just over two feet apart. Your left foot now lifts and takes a large step forward, then your right foot follows with a half step, your left knee bending, right leg straightening, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow, as your right hand suddenly extends forward, sending the tip of your spear stabbing toward A, your right hand again finishing just behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot takes a step toward the east, the toes swinging outward, as your right hand wraps the inward and upward. Then your left foot takes a step toward the east, making a horse-riding stance, as your right hand sinks down to be close below your right ribs, the center of the hand facing inward, making your staff diagonal near your chest, the head of your staff pointing diagonally upward just under a foot higher than your headtop. While your right hand wraps your staff inward, your left hand grabs the middle section and sends your staff knocking outward, the center of the hand facing toward the north. Your chest is also facing toward the north, your face toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 10:

第十一動作
MOVEMENT 11:

乙方之槍。被棍科出。同時將槍縮回。兩足不動。右膝微曲。全身亦隨微向後縮。左手姿式不變。唯稍向前移。右手仍伏於右脇後方。同時右足猛登。膝蓋伸直。右手又猛向前伸。照甲方頭額直刺。其姿式與第十圖相同。詳見前。同時甲方見槍刺來。猛向左轉。使胸向正前方。(起點正前面)右足在原地轉。膝蓋微曲。左足向後收回一小步。膝蓋亦曲。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點。移於右腿。在原地向左轉時。右手姿式不動。左手持棍。猛向左帶。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十一圖。
B, once your spear has been knocked aside, withdraw it, your feet staying where they are, your right knee slightly bending, your body slightly shrinking back, your left hand maintaining its position but slightly shifting forward, your right hand again hidden behind your right ribs. Then your right foot suddenly presses, the knee straightening, and your right hand suddenly shoots forward, stabbing toward A’s forehead, your posture the same as in photo 10.
  A, when you see the stab coming, suddenly turn to the left, causing your chest to be facing toward the east, your right foot staying where it is and pivoting, the knee slightly bending, your left foot withdrawing a small step, the knee also bent, the heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifting onto your right leg. As you turn to the left, mostly staying where you are, your right hand maintains its position and your left hand suddenly sends your staff to the left with a dragging action. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 11:

第十二動作
MOVEMENT 12:

承上式不停。甲方左足急向前開一小步。同時右足在左足後方。再向前開一步。兩膝均曲。成騎馬式。在右足開步之際。右肘提起。彎曲在胸前。使棍尾直向乙方之左腿之部猛戳。左手姿式不變。唯用力向下垂。兩手心均向下。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方腿部。同時乙方。見棍尾照腿部戳來。在足急退一小步。右足再向前開一步。同時左手移抓槍之中段。使槍尖向上。右手亦微向上移。使槍樽猛抵甲方棍尾。兩膝蓋曲。成騎馬式。右手心向下。左手心向上。胸向起點右方。兩目注視甲方棍尾。其式如第十二圖。
A, continuing from the previous posture from pausing, your left foot quickly takes a small step forward, then your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance. As your right foot steps out, your right elbow lifts and bends in front of your chest, and you send the tail of your staff poking toward B’s left leg, your left hand maintaining its position but forcefully dropping, the centers of both hands facing downward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B’s leg.
  B, when you see the tail of A’s staff poking toward your leg, your [left] foot quickly retreats a small step and your right foot then takes a step forward. At the same time, your left hand shifts its grip to the middle [forward] section of your spear, sending the tip of your spear upward, your right hand also slightly shifting upward, and you send the end of your spear to brace away the tail of A’s staff, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance, the center of your right hand facing downward, the center of your left hand facing upward. Your chest is facing toward the north, your gaze toward the tail of A’s staff. See photo 12:

第八章
(CHAPTER EIGHT)

第十三動作
MOVEMENT 13 [switching places]:

甲方棍尾。托乙方槍樽向上絞。同時右足向起點左方。橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。左足向起點前方。開一步此時乙方。與甲方動作相同。該時右足亦橫移一小步。(向起點右放)足尖亦向外撇。左足亦開一步。(向起點後方與甲方相背)此時甲方已轉至乙方所站之地點。胸向起點。右方。而乙方則轉至甲方所站之地點。胸向起點左方。此時乙方將槍樽縮回。提高。右足向後撤一步。使槍尖朝下。向前照甲方右腿下部直刺。兩手用力下垂。左肘伸直。手心向上。右肘微曲。手心向下。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方腿部。甲方照腿刺來。右足猛向後撤一步。左手用力向右前方(身之右前方)猛推。使棍頭上方。急抵乙方之槍尖上端。胸向起點左後方。兩手心均向下。左肘伸直。右肘曲。使棍斜伏於腹部右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。棍尖。其式如第十三圖。
A, use the tail of your staff to prop up the end of A’s spear in an arc [going clockwise] as your right foot shifts a small step across toward the south, the toes swinging outward, and your left foot steps out toward the west.
  B, as A moves, your right foot also shifts a small step across (toward the north), the toes also swinging outward, and your left foot steps out (toward the east, going around A [as he is going around you]). You have both now switched places. A, your chest is facing toward the north. B, your chest is facing toward the south. B, withdraw the end of your spear raised high as your right foot withdraws a step and then send the tip of your spear stabbing forward and downward toward B’s lower body, your hands forcefully dropping into place, your left elbow straightening, the center of the hand facing upward, your right elbow slightly bending, the center of the hand facing downward. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A’s leg.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot withdraws a step as your left hand forcefully pushes to your forward right, sending the head of your staff to quickly brace away the tip of B’s spear. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, the centers of both hands facing downward, your left elbow straightening, your right elbow bending, causing your staff to be positioned diagonally, close to the right side of your belly. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward the tip of B’s staff [spear]. See photo 13:

第十四動作
MOVEMENT 14:

乙方原姿式不動。將槍縮回。復照甲方左膝下部猛刺。甲方見槍刺來。左足向裏橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。同時右足再向前開一步。左手用力一帶。使棍頭將槍尖向外撥出。左肘曲。使棍頭向後上方。右肘向下。伸直。使棍尾向前下方。在右足進步之時。右手用力。使棍尾順槍桿直向上磕乙方左手。此時兩足尖均向起點左方。胸亦向起點左方。兩膝曲。成騎馬式。唯上身微向起點後方探。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方。見棍尾照左手磕來。左手猛向後。移至右手所在之處。同時右足不動。左足猛向後撤半步。足尖觸地。足踵提起。槍尖亦在前觸地。兩肘彎曲。使兩手縮於胸部下方。兩手心均向上。胸向起點前方。兩目注視棍尾。其式如第十四圖。
B, without changing your posture, withdraw your spear, then fiercely stab toward A’s lower left leg.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your left foot shifts a small step across inward, toes swinging outward, and your right foot then takes a step forward. Your left hand is forcefully dragging, sending the head of your staff to deflect the tip of B’s spear outward, and your left elbow bends, sending the head of your staff upward behind you, your right elbow straightening downward, sending the tail of your staff forward and downward. As your right foot advances, your right hand forcefully sends the tail of your staff upward to be parallel with the shaft of B’s spear and knock against his left hand, the toes of your feet now pointing toward the south. Your chest is also facing toward the south, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance, your upper body slightly reaching toward the east, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see the tail of A’s staff coming to knock your left hand, your left hand suddenly shifts to the rear to be next to your right hand. At the same time, your right foot stays where it is, but your left foot suddenly withdraws a half step, toes touching down, heel lifted, the tip of your spear touching the ground in front, both elbows bending, causing your hands to withdraw below your chest, the centers of both hands facing upward. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward the tail of A’s staff. See photo 14:

第十五動作
MOVEMENT 15:

乙方右足。同時向後撤一大步。左足亦隨右足撤半步。膝蓋微曲。右膝伸直。上身前探。成小前弓後箭步。同時左手向前移。伸直。右手握槍樽。縮回右脇之後方。復猛向前砍。照甲方頭部猛刺。同時甲方見槍刺來。左足不動。膝蓋彎曲。右足猛向後退半步。膝蓋微曲。足踵提起。足尖觸地。兩足距離約一尺餘。全身重點移於右腿。同時右足原地向右轉。右手棍尾向下沉。左手棍頭向上。左手用力。經胸前向身之右方推磕乙方之槍尖。此時右手伏於腹部左端。手心向裏。左手伏於膀肩旁。手心向前。胸向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十五圖。
B, your right foot withdraws a large step, and your left foot follows, withdrawing a half step, the knee slightly bending, your right knee straightening, your upper body reaching forward as you make a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. At the same time, your left arm shifts forward, the arm straightening, and your right hand withdraws the end of your spear behind your right ribs, then shoots forward, suddenly stabbing toward A’s head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your left foot stays where it is, the knee bending, and your right foot suddenly retreats a half step, the knee slightly bending, heel lifted, toes touching down, your feet just over a foot apart, the weight shifting onto your right [left] leg, your right [left] foot pivoting rightward. At the same time, your right hand sinks down the tail of your staff, your left hand sending the head of your staff upward, and your left hand forcefully pushes out to your right, knocking away the tip of B’s spear. Your right hand is now close to the left side of your abdomen, the center of the hand facing inward, your left hand close beside your [right] shoulder, the center of the hand facing forward. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 15 [reverse view]:

第十六動作
MOVEMENT 16:

同時乙方。右手復縮囘脇部後方。左手姿式不變。右手復向前猛砍。轉向甲方右膝下部直刺。甲方右足猛向左足後方撤一大步。膝蓋弓曲。左足亦隨撤半步。左膝伸直。足尖橫向起點左方。同時右手復於右脇後方。左手向下按。使棍頭由前直下。捺乙方槍尖。左手。左手伸直。手心向下。右肘微曲。手心向裏。上身向起點左方。微曲。胸向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十六圖。
B, your right hand withdraws behind your ribs, the position of your left hand not changing, then your right hand fiercely shoots forward with a stab toward A’s right knee.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a large step behind your left foot, the knee bending, and your left foot also withdraws a half step, the knee straightening, the toes pointing across toward the south. At the same time, your right hand goes behind your right ribs and your left hand pushes downward, sending the head of your staff downward from in front of you, pressing down the tip of B’s spear, your left arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, your right elbow slightly bending, the center of the hand facing inward, your upper body slightly bending toward the south. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 16:

第十七動作
MOVEMENT 17:

乙方復將槍縮回。照甲方頭部直刺。其姿式與前式相同。詳見前。故從畧。同時甲方雙手握棍。橫向上架乙方槍尖。同時將槍架出。使棍經腦後。(此時右手沈下)右手單手抓住棍尾。由身右方。橫向乙方腿部打一掃蹚。同時左足向右足後方猛撤一步。原地由左方向後轉。右足復向起點前方開一步。(此時胸已向起點前方)在右足開步之際。右手持棍橫掄。經右方。由前方斜伏於左脇之下。(在棍掄至面前時左手已接棍抓住)棍頭向起點。後下方。離地約五六寸。左肘向下斜方伸直。手心向裏。右肘橫曲。手心向下。右膝弓曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。唯此時胸向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。當甲方打掃蹚時。同時乙方。將槍縮回。兩足高跳。落地後。其姿式與前不變。詳見上。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第十七圖。
B, withdraw your spear, then stab toward A’s head, your posture still the same as in the previous movement.
  A, with both hands holding your staff horizontally, prop up the tip of B’s spear, and once the spear has been propped away, your staff passes behind your head (your right hand sinking down), your right hand now grasping your staff on its own, holding the tail of your staff, bringing it across from your right to attack B’s leg with a “sweeping the hall” action. At the same time, your left foot suddenly withdraws a step behind your right foot, arcing behind you from your left, then your right foot takes a step toward the west (your chest now facing toward the west). As your right foot steps out, your right hand has swung your staff across from the right and brings it in front of you to be a diagonal line close below your left ribs (your left hand now grabbing your staff), the head of your staff pointing downward toward the east, about half a foot away from the ground. Your left arm is straightened diagonally downward, the center of the hand facing inward, your right elbow bent across, the center of the hand facing downward, your right knee bending, left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is now facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, when A attacks with “sweeping the hall”, withdraw your spear, jumping high with both feet, and then after you land, your posture is again the same as before. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 17 [reverse view]:

第十八動作
MOVEMENT 18:

甲方姿式不變。直向起點前方走。兩目仍回視乙方。同時乙方亦挺槍開步。直追甲方。(甲方開步之多寡視練習場之大小而定)甲方走至練習場之另一。端乙。方照甲方腿部後方直刺。同時甲方見槍刺來。右手不動。左手曲肘。將棍向後提起。再向前猛搏槍尖。同時左足在後。橫向右方。(起點右面)移半步。膝蓋伸直。右膝弓曲。兩足距離約二尺弱。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左方。兩足尖均向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視槍。同時乙方左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右足在後。伸直。成小前弓後箭步左。手仍向前伸直右。手槍樽。仍停於左手裏面。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方腿部。其式如第十八圖。
A, without changing your posture, walk toward the west with your gaze turned to look toward B. B, step out to pursue A. A, with the number and size of your steps depending on the practice space, walk to one end of the space. B, stab to the back of A’s [left] leg.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right hand stays where it is as your left elbow bends, lifting your staff behind you and then suddenly sending it forward to smack away the tip of B’s spear. At the same time, your left foot shifts a half step across toward the north, the knee straightening, your right knee bending, your feet just under two feet apart, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the south, the toes of both feet pointing toward the south. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear.
  B, your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, right foot behind, the leg straightening, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your left hand is again extended forward, your right hand again finishing with the end of your spear near the inside of your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A’s leg. See photo 18:

第十九動作
MOVEMENT 19:

乙方復將槍縮回。兩足不動。唯身亦向後縮。又照甲方頭部直刺。同時甲方。右手棍尾沈下。左手將棍頭抬起。向上用力。向左猛扣乙槍。此時右足不動。半面向左轉。同時左足縮回一小步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。全身重點。移於右腿。胸向起點後方。左肘橫曲。手心向起點右方。右手心向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第十九圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, your body also shrinking back, then stab toward A’s head.
  A, your right hand sinks down the tail of your staff as your left hand forcefully lifts up the head of your staff and then goes to the left, fiercely covering B’s spear. At the same time, your right foot stays where it is but does a half pivot to the left, and your left foot withdraws a small step, heel lifted, toes touching down, the weight shifting onto your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the east, your left elbow bending across, the center of the hand facing toward the north [south], the center of your right hand also facing toward the north [south]. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 19:

第二十動作
MOVEMENT 20:

同時甲方。將乙槍扣住。右足向起點後方開一步。棍尾由身後。經頭上向乙方直劈。同時右手順棍下沈。距離左手約七八寸。手心向下。同時左肘曲。成三角形。上段緊伏左脇下段。成水平線。手心向下。使棍頭緊伏下段底面。棍頭與肘尖相齊。棍頭與棍尾成水平。上身微向前探。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方。見棍尾劈來。將槍縮回。右足向後撤一步。左足亦隨右足向後撤一步。方向仍不變。同時右手槍樽提起。左手向前微推。架住棍尾。左手朝裏裹勁。使槍桿上端。裹至棍尾在下。槍桿在上。胸向起點右方。兩目注視棍尾。其式如第二十圖。
A, after covering B’s spear, your right foot steps out toward the east as you send the tail of your staff from behind you, over your head, and chopping toward B, your right hand sinking down [i.e. sliding inward along your staff] to be about three quarters of a foot away from your left hand, the center of the hand facing downward. Your left elbow is bent, making a triangle shape, the upper arm near your left ribs, the forearm making a horizontal line, the center of the hand facing downward, the head of your staff lowered to be level with the elbow, the head and tail of your staff making a horizontal line [diagonal according to the photo]. Your upper body is slightly reaching forward. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see the tail of A’s staff chopping toward you, pull back your spear as your right foot withdraws a step, your left foot following by also withdrawing a step, your orientation remaining the same. Then your right hand lifts the end of your spear and your left hand slightly pushes forward to brace away the tail of A’s staff, your left [right] hand also wrapping inward, causing the shaft of your spear to be angled upward, resulting in the staff being underneath and the spear being on top. Your chest is facing toward the north, your gaze toward the tail of A’s staff. See photo 20:

第二十一動作
MOVEMENT 21:

甲方兩足不動。右手向棍尾處移。抓住棍尾端。(此時左手鬆開)使棍頭經上方。直向乙方猛劈。上身向前探。左手隨棍停於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。手心向上。右胳膊伸直。棍頭與棍尾相平。胸向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方。右足微向起點右後方撤一小步。左足亦隨撤一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。兩膝伸直。同時右手槍樽。微隨左手。左手抬高。使槍尖向身右前上方。左手用力向外擰勁。使槍尖猛扣甲棍。手心向左方。(起點左面)右手心向下。其式如第二十一圖。
A, with your feet staying where they are, your right hand shifts to the tail of your staff (your left hand letting go), sending the head of your staff over you and chopping toward B, your upper body reaching forward, your left hand following your staff to finish above your head, the fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward, your right arm straightening, the head and tail of your staff level with each other. Your chest is facing toward the north, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, your right foot withdraws a small step slightly toward the northeast and your left foot also withdraws a step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down, both knees straightening. At the same time, your right hand at the end of your spear slightly follows your left hand as your left hand lifts, sending the tip of your spear upward to the forward right of your body, your left hand forcefully twisting outward, causing the tip of your spear to suddenly cover A’s staff, the center of the hand facing toward the south, the center of your right hand facing downward. See photo 21:

第二十二動作
MOVEMENT 22:

甲方不停。卽向起點前方開步進行。左手仍在頭部上方。胸向起點右前方。面由右方。轉向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時右手及棍。在身後隨胳膊伸直。棍頭觸地。向起點正後方。胳膊與棍成直線。同時乙方姿式不變。向前開步。(甲乙兩方開步多寡視場之大小而定)甲方走至場之另一端。乙方用力照甲方頭部直刺。乙方左足在前。甲方見槍刺來止步。左足在前。右手用力使棍之中段向上猛托。右手朝上伸直。微向起點後方。手心向上。棍頭向起點左後下方。同時右足向後退回一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點右後方。左手仍在頭上不變。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十二圖。
A, without pausing, advance [retreat] toward the west, your left hand still above your head. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. At the same time, your right hand and your staff follow your body back, the arm straightening, the head of your staff touching the ground toward the east, the arm and staff together making a straight line.
  B, maintaining your posture, chase toward the west as A walks to that end of the practice space (the amount of steps for both of you depending on the size of the practice space), and forcefully stab toward his head, your left foot again going forward.
  A, when you see the stab coming, bring your feet to a halt with your left [right] foot forward, [left foot behind], as your right hand forcefully sends the middle section of your staff propping upward, the arm extending upward and slightly toward the east, the center of the hand facing upward, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southeast. At the same time, your right foot retreats a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your left hand still positioned above your head, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 22:

第二十三動作
MOVEMENT 23:

乙方將槍縮回。兩足不動。復照甲方右腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。右足向起點前方猛撤一步。膝蓋弓曲。左足不動。原地向右擰。使足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。兩足距離約三尺。(然隨身之高矮而定)使全身重點。移於右腿。同時右手用力擰。使棍頭向後旋轉。經頭上朝下猛捕。左手亦抓棍之中段。用力向下按。胳膊伸直。手心向下。右手心向裏。肘微曲。腰部微向前曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。此時乙方姿式。左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右腿在後。伸直。上身微向前探。左手在前伸直。手心向上。右手持槍樽。在左手之後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第二十三圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then fiercely stab downward toward A’s right leg.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step toward the west, the knee bending, your left foot staying where it is and pivoting to the right so the toes are pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your feet about three feet apart (depending on your own height), the weight shifting to your right leg. At the same time, your right hand forcefully twists, sending the head of your staff arcing behind you, passing over your head, and fiercely seizing downward, your left hand also grasping the middle section of your staff and forcefully pushing it down, the arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, the center of your right hand facing inward, the elbow slightly bent, your torso slightly bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  At this time, B’s posture is thus: your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, your right leg straightened behind, your upper body slightly reaching forward, your left hand forward, the arm straight, the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand holding the end of your spear about half a foot behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 23:

第二十四動作
MOVEMENT 24:

乙方不動。將槍縮回。復照甲方頭部直刺。甲方見槍刺來。右足不動。原地向左轉。使足尖向起點後方。左足縮回半步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。膝微曲。兩足距離一尺餘。同時左手持棍抬起。使棍向身之左方猛帶。手心向起點後方。胸亦向起點後方。右手棍尾伏於右脇下部。面向起點後方。同時乙方。復將槍縮回。兩足不動。又照甲方左腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向起點後方開一步。兩膝均曲。成騎馬式。右手棍尾在右足開步之際。使棍尾向前猛抵乙槍。兩足尖均向起點右方。胸向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十四圖。
B, staying where you are, withdraw your spear, then stab straight toward A’s head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot stays where it is and pivots to the left so the toes are pointing toward the east, your left foot withdrawing a half step, heel lifted, toes touching down, the knee slightly bent, your feet just over a foot apart. At the same time, your left hand lifts the [head] of your staff, fiercely dragging to your left, the center of the hand facing toward the east, as is your chest, your right hand holding the tail of your staff hidden below your right ribs. You are facing toward the east.
  B, again withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, and then fiercely stab downward toward A’s left leg.
  A, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step toward the east from behind your left foot, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance. As your right foot steps out, your right hand sends the tail of your staff forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, your feet pointing toward the north. Your chest is also facing toward the north, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 24:

第二十五動作
MOVEMENT 25:

乙方左足。在右足前。向起點後方撤一步。同時左手抬起。使槍尖向上。左手移抓槍之上段。右手亦向上移。隨向前推。使槍樽直搗甲方右腿下部。右肘伸直。手心向下。左肘曲。手心向上。右膝曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方見槍樽搗來。左足向起點後方開一步。右手抬起。曲肘。使棍尾向上。左手沈下。肘伸直。使棍頭向下。左手向前速推。使棍頭猛抵乙方槍樽。兩膝均曲。兩足尖均向起點左方。成騎馬式。胸向起點左方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十五圖。
B, your left foot withdraws a step toward the east from in front of your right foot, your left hand lifting, sending the tip of your spear upward and shifting its grip to the forward section of your spear. Your right hand also shifts upward, then pushes forward, sending the end of your spear pounding toward A’s lower right leg, your right elbow straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, your left elbow bending, the center of the hand facing upward, your right knee bending, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the end of B’s spear pounding toward your leg, your left foot takes a step toward the east and your right hand lifts, the elbow bending, sending the tail of your staff upward, your left hand sinking down, the elbow straightening, sending the head of your staff downward, and your left hand quickly pushes forward, sending the head of your staff to be bracing away the end of B’s spear, both knees bending, the toes of both feet pointing toward the south, making a horse-riding stance. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 25 [reverse view]:

第九章
(CHAPTER NINE)

第二十六動作
MOVEMENT 26:

同時乙方槍樽。同甲方棍頭向上絞。(槍樽在上棍頭在下)絞至與頭平。乙方槍樽向回提高。同時右足向後撤一步。左手沈下伸直。使槍尖朝下。在身之左方。左手猛向前推。右手用力下垂。使槍尖直刺甲方左腿下部。其姿式與上式不變。唯此時右足在後。而胸已轉向起點右方。同時甲方。左手棍頭。與槍樽相絞。見槍照腿部刺來。右足猛向前開一步。左肘曲。棍頭向上。右手下沈。使棍尾向下。右手向前一推。使棍尾猛抵乙槍。兩膝均曲。仍成騎馬式。其姿式與前相同。唯此時右足在前。胸已轉向起點右方。其式如第二十六圖。
The end of B’s spear and the head of A’s staff are coiling upward (spear on top, staff underneath).
  B, once they are at head level, withdraw the end of your spear by lifting it high, your right foot withdrawing a step behind you, your left hand sinking down, the arm straightening, pointing the tip of your spear downward to your left, and then your left hand fiercely pushes forward, your right hand forcefully dropping downward, sending the tip of your spear stabbing toward A’s left lower leg. The posture is the same as before [Movement 24], your right foot behind, your chest turned to be facing toward the north.
  A, your left hand is holding the head of your staff as it coils with the end of B’s spear, and then when you see the stab coming toward your leg, your right foot suddenly takes a step forward, your left elbow bending, sending the head of your staff upward, your right hand sinking down, sending the tail of your staff downward, and your right hand pushes the tail forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear. Both knees are bending, again making a horse-riding stance, the posture the same as before [Movement 24], your right foot forward, your chest turned to be facing toward the north. See photo 26:

第二十七動作
MOVEMENT 27:

甲方不停。同時將槍抵出。左手鬆開。右手抵住。用力使棍頭經上方向前直劈。上身亦向前探。左手隨棍停於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。手心向上。兩足不動。及一切姿式與前不變。同時乙方見棍照頭部劈來。右足向起點右後方猛撤一小步。左足亦隨撤一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。兩膝伸直。上身向右方微斜。同時將槍縮回。右手在右脇後下方。微隨左手。左手向外擰勁。使槍尖向外猛扣甲棍。左手心向起點左方。胸向起點左前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲其。方式如第二十七圖。
A, without pausing after bracing away B’s spear, your left hand lets go and your right hand forcefully sends the head of your staff upward and chopping forward, your upper body also leaning forward, your left hand following your staff to stop above your head, fingers extended but still together, the center of the hand facing upward, your feet staying where they are, your stance not changing from the previous posture.
  B, when you see A’s staff chopping toward your head, your right foot suddenly withdraws a small step toward the northeast, then your left foot also withdraws a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down, both knees straightening, your upper body slightly leaning toward the south. At the same time, your spear withdraws, your right hand going behind and below your right ribs, and your left hand slightly twists outward, sending the tip of your spear outward to suddenly cover A’s staff, the center of your left hand facing toward the south. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 27:

第二十八動作
MOVEMENT 28:

甲方不停。卽向起點前方開步進行。姿式左手仍在頭部上方。胸向起點右前方。面由右方轉向後。兩目注視乙方。同時右手及棍。在身後。胳膊伸直。棍頭觸地。向起點正後方。胳膊與棍成直線。同時乙方姿式不變。向前開步。(起點前面)直追(甲乙兩方、開步多寡、視場之大小而定)甲方走至場之另一端。乙方用力照甲方頭部直刺。乙方左足在前。甲方見槍刺來。止步。右足在前。左足在後。右手用力使棍之中段。向上猛托。右手朝上伸直。微向起點後方。手心向上。棍頭向起點左後下方。同時右足向後退回一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點右後方。左手仍在頭上不變。兩目注視乙槍。其式如第二十八圖。
A, without pausing, advance [retreat] toward the west, your left hand still above your head. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. At the same time, your right hand and your staff follow your body back, the arm straightening, the head of your staff touching the ground toward the east, the arm and staff together making a straight line.
  B, maintaining your posture, chase toward the west as A walks to that end of the practice space (the amount of steps for both of you depending on the size of the practice space), and forcefully stab toward his head, your left foot again going forward.
  A, when you see the stab coming, bring your feet to a halt with your right foot forward, left foot behind, as your right hand forcefully sends the middle section of your staff propping upward, the arm extending upward and slightly toward the east, the center of the hand facing upward, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southeast. At the same time, your right foot retreats a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your left hand still positioned above your head, your gaze toward B’s spear. See photo 28:

第二十九動作
MOVEMENT 29:

乙方將槍縮回。兩足不動。復照甲方右腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。右足向起點前方猛撤一步。膝蓋弓曲。左足不動。原地向右擰勁。使足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。兩足距離約三尺。(隨身之高矮而定)使全身重點。移於右腿。右手用力擰。使棍頭向後旋轉。經頭上。至面前朝下猛捕。同時右手亦抓棍之中段。用力向下按。胳膊伸直。手心向下。右手心向裏。肘微曲。腰部微向前曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。此時乙方姿式。左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右腿在後伸直。手心向上。右手持槍樽。在左手之後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。以上姿式。與第二十三圖動作相同。其式如第二十九圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then fiercely stab downward toward A’s right leg.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step toward the west, the knee bending, your left foot staying where it is and pivoting to the right so the toes are pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your feet about three feet apart (depending on your own height), the weight shifting to your right leg. At the same time, your right hand forcefully twists, sending the head of your staff arcing behind you, passing over your head, and fiercely seizing downward once in front of your face, your right [left] hand also grasping the middle section of your staff and forcefully pushing it down, the arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, the center of your right hand facing inward, the elbow slightly bent, your torso slightly bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  At this time, B’s posture is thus: your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, your right leg straightened behind, [your left hand forward,] the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand holding the end of your spear about half a foot behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. This posture is the same as in photo 23. See photo 29:

第三十動作
MOVEMENT 30:

乙方將槍縮回。使右手向後伸直。左手移抓槍之上段。同時左足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向起點前方開一步。此時胸已向起點左方。左手沈下。右手由後向前。(此時右手移抓槍之中段)使槍樽照甲方頭部猛劈。左手曲肘。手心向上。右手在前。肘微曲。手心向下。胸向起點左方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方見槍樽劈來。兩足向前猛進一小步。雙手持棍。猛向上架。右手向上伸直。左肘微曲。向前上方伸。兩手心均向起點左後方。使棍尾高於棍頭約一尺五六寸。棍頭向起點右後下方。胸向起點左後方。右膝彎曲。足尖向起點左方。左膝在前。伸直。足尖向起點左後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方其式如第三十圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your right arm straightening behind, your left hand shifting its grip to the forward section of your spear. At the same, your left toes swing outward and your right foot takes a step toward the west from behind your left foot. With your chest now facing toward the south, your left hand is sinking down and your right hand comes forward from behind (shifting its grip to the middle section), sending the end of your spear fiercely chopping toward A’s head. Your left elbow is bent, the center of the hand facing upward, and your right hand is forward, the elbow slightly bent, the center of the hand facing downward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the end of B’s spear chopping toward you, your feet both advance a small step forward as you fiercely prop up your staff with both hands, your right arm straightening upward, your left elbow slightly bent as it extends forward and upward, the centers of both hands facing toward the southeast as you put the tail of your staff about a foot and a half higher than the head of your staff, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the northeast. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your right knee bending, the toes pointing toward the south, your left knee straightened in front, the toes pointing toward the southeast. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 30 [reverse view]:

第三十一動作
MOVEMENT 31:

甲方左手沈下。右足在左足後面。向起點後方開一步。右手向前按。使棍尾照乙方頭部直劈。左肘彎曲。手心向下。使左肘緊挾棍頭。於左脇上端。右手在前。肘微曲。手心向下。斯時右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方右足猛撤一步。右手抬起。復移抓槍樽。使槍樽向上。同時左手伸直。向上托。使槍中段。猛架甲棍。此時右手向上。手心朝起點右前方。左手在前伸直。向起點左前上方。手心向上。槍樽高於槍尖約一尺七八寸。槍尖向起點左前下方。右腿在後伸直。左腿亦伸直。唯足踵微提起。足尖觸地。上身向後微閃。胸向起點右前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第三十一圖。
A, your left hand sinks down as your right foot takes a step toward the east from behind your left foot, your right hand pushing forward, sending the tail of your staff chopping toward B’s head. Your left elbow is bent, the center of the hand facing downward, the elbow wrapping the head of your staff to your left ribs. Your right hand is forward, the elbow slightly bent, the center of the hand facing downward. Your right knee in front is bent, left leg straight, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step, your right hand lifting, shifting its grip to the end of your spear, and sending it upward, your left hand at the same time extending and propping up, sending the middle section of your spear to fiercely prop away A’s staff. Your right hand is now above, the center of the hand facing toward the northwest, your left hand forward, the arm straight, pointing toward the southwest, the center of the hand facing upward, the end of your spear about a foot and three quarters higher than the tip, the tip pointing downward toward the southwest. Your right leg is straightening behind, your left leg also straightening, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down, your upper body slightly dodging back. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 31:

第三十二動作
MOVEMENT 32:

同時乙方。左手向裏擰。使槍尖向裏裹。棍尾裹至乙槍在上。棍尾在下。甲方兩足不動。左手鬆開沈下。復伸至頭部上方。五指伸直並攏。手心向上。右手用力。使棍頭由後經上方。照乙頭部直劈。上身微向前探。同時乙方。左手向左用力。使槍向左猛掛。右手槍樽在後。微隨。使槍尖向上。兩方其餘姿式。與前不變。其式如第三十二圖。
B, your left hand twists inward, causing the tip of your spear to wrap inward, wrapping around the tail of A’s staff until the spear is on top and the staff is underneath.
  A, with your feet staying where they are, your left hand lets go and sinks down, then extends until above your head, the fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward, as your right hand forcefully sends the head of your staff behind you, passing over you, and chopping toward B’s head, your upper body slightly reaching forward.
  B, your left hand forcefully goes to the left, sending your spear across with a sudden hanging action, your right hand at the end of your spear slightly following, causing the tip of your spear to go upward. The rest of the posture is the same as before [Movement 21]. See photo 32:

第三十三動作
MOVEMENT 33:

甲方。右手持棍。在前。左手抓棍尾。用力向乙方左腿下部打一掃蹚。同時乙方高跳。右足先觸地。由左方旋轉一圈。使胸復向起點前方。左足再向前觸地。此時雙手挺槍。復照甲方腿部猛刺。右腿在後伸直。左膝彎曲。成小前弓後箭步。左手在前。手心向上。右手在後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。左足不動。右足微向起點左方。橫移一小步。膝蓋伸直。左膝微曲。左手鬆開。置於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。右手持棍。使棍頭在前觸地。不動。胳膊伸直。向起點右方猛撥。右手反背。使手心向起點左方。胸向起點右方。棍尾直向上。胳膊橫平。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第三十三圖。
A, with your right hand still holding your staff, your left hand comes forward to also take hold of the tail section and you forcefully do a “sweeping the hall” attack toward B’s lower left leg.
  B, jump high, your right foot coming down first, [your torso] turning from the left so that your chest is facing toward the west as your left foot comes down forward and you extend your spear with both hands, fiercely stabbing toward A’s [right] leg, your right leg straightening behind, left knee bending, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your left hand is forward, the center of the hand facing upward, right hand behind, about half a foot away from your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A.
  A, your left foot stays where it is as your right foot slightly shifts across a small step toward the south, the knee straightening, your left knee slightly bending. Your left hand lets go and is placed above your head, the fingers extended but together, as your right hand puts the head of your staff firmly onto the ground and the arm straightens, suddenly deflecting toward the north, the hand turned over so the center of the hand is facing toward the south. Your chest is facing toward the north, the tail of your staff pointing upward, your [right] arm horizontal. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 33:

第三十四動作
MOVEMENT 34:

甲方將槍撥出。右手用力。使棍頭由身後。經頭上向乙方頭部直劈。其餘姿式。與前不變。唯該時上身向前探。右膝彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。同時乙方復將槍縮回。全體隨向後縮。左手將槍抬起。朝上猛向左帶。其姿式與前第二十一圖相同。其式如第三十四圖。
A, after deflecting B’s spear away, your right hand forcefully sends the head of your staff from behind your body, over your head, and chopping straight toward B’s head. The rest of the posture is the same as before [Movement 21], except that this time your upper body is reaching forward. Your right knee is bent, left leg straight, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow.
  B, withdraw your spear, your body also withdrawing, your left hand lifting your spear, the hand facing upward, and fiercely drag to the left. This posture is the same as in photo 21. See photo 34:

第三十五動作
MOVEMENT 35:

甲方不停。卽向起點前方開步。進行姿式。左手仍在頭部上方。胸向起點右前方。面由右方轉向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。同時右手及棍。在身後。隨胳膊伸直。棍頭觸地。向起點正後方。胳膊與棍成直線。同時乙方姿式不變。向前開步。(起點前面)直追(甲乙兩方、開步多寡、視練習場之大小而定)甲方。走至練習場之另一端。乙方用力照甲方頭部直刺。乙方左足在前。甲方見槍刺來。止步。右足在前。左足在後。右手用力使棍之中段。向上猛托。右手朝上伸直。微向起點後方。手心向上。棍頭向起點左後下方。右足向後退回一小步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點右後方。左手仍在頭上不變。兩目注視乙槍。以上姿式及動作。與前第二十二圖相同。其式如第三十五圖。
A, without pausing, advance [retreat] toward the west, your left hand still above your head. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. At the same time, your right hand and your staff follow your body back, the arm straightening, the head of your staff touching the ground toward the east, the arm and staff together making a straight line.
  B, maintaining your posture, chase toward the west as A walks to that end of the practice space (the amount of steps for both of you depending on the size of the practice space), and forcefully stab toward his head, your left foot again going forward.
  A, when you see the stab coming, bring your feet to a halt with your right foot forward, left foot behind, as your right hand forcefully sends the middle section of your staff propping upward, the arm extending upward and slightly toward the east, the center of the hand facing upward, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the southeast. At the same time, your right foot retreats a small step, the heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your left hand still positioned above your head, your gaze toward B’s spear. The posture and movement is the same as for photo 22. See photo 35:

第三十六動作
MOVEMENT 36:

乙方將槍縮回。兩足不動。復照甲方右腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。右足向起點前方猛撤一步。膝蓋弓曲。左足不動。原地向右擰勁。使足尖向起點左方。膝蓋伸直。兩足距離約三尺。(然亦隨身體高矮而定)使全身重點。移於右腿。右手用力擰。使棍頭向後旋轉。經頭上朝下猛捕。同時左手亦抓棍之中段。用力向下按。胳膊伸直。手心向下。右手心向裏。肘微曲。腰部微向前曲。胸向起點左方。兩目注視乙方。此時乙方姿式。左足在前。膝蓋微曲。右腿在後伸直。上身微向前探。左手在前伸直。手心向上。右手持槍樽。在左手之後。距離左手約五六寸。胸向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其姿式動作。與前第二十三圖相同。其式如第三十六圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, then fiercely stab downward toward A’s right leg.
  A, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step toward the west, the knee bending, your left foot staying where it is and pivoting to the right so the toes are pointing toward the south, the knee straightening, your feet about three feet apart (depending on your own height), the weight shifting to your right leg. At the same time, your right hand forcefully twists, sending the head of your staff arcing behind you, passing over your head, and fiercely seizing downward, your left hand also grasping the middle section of your staff and forcefully pushing it down, the arm straightening, the center of the hand facing downward, the center of your right hand facing inward, the elbow slightly bent, your torso slightly bending forward. Your chest is facing toward the south, your gaze toward B.
  At this time, B’s posture is thus: your left foot is forward, the knee slightly bent, your right leg straightened behind, your upper body slightly reaching forward, your left hand forward, the arm straight, the center of the hand facing upward, your right hand holding the end of your spear about half a foot behind your left hand. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. This posture is the same as in photo 23. See photo 36:

第三十七動作
MOVEMENT 37:

乙方不動。將槍縮回。復照甲方頭部直刺。甲方見槍刺來。右足不動。原地向左轉。使足尖向起點後方。左足縮回半步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。膝蓋微曲。兩足距離約一尺餘。同時左手持棍抬起。使棍向身之左方猛帶。手心向起點後方。胸亦向起點後方。右手棍尾。伏於右脅下部。面向起點後方。同時乙方。復將槍縮回。兩足不動。又照甲方左腿下部猛刺。同時甲方。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向起點後方開一步。兩膝蓋彎曲。成騎馬式。右手棍尾。在右足開步之際。使棍尾向前猛抵乙槍。兩足均向起點右方。胸亦向起點右方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙槍。其姿式與前第二十四圖相同。其式如第三十七圖。
B, staying where you are, withdraw your spear, then stab straight toward A’s head.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot stays where it is and pivots to the left so the toes are pointing toward the east, your left foot withdrawing a half step, heel lifted, toes touching down, the knee slightly bent, your feet just over a foot apart. At the same time, your left hand lifts the [head] of your staff, fiercely dragging to your left, the center of the hand facing toward the east, as is your chest, your right hand holding the tail of your staff hidden below your right ribs. You are facing toward the east.
  B, again withdraw your spear, your feet staying where they are, and then fiercely stab downward toward A’s left leg.
  A, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south, the toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step toward the east from behind your left foot, both knees bending, making a horse-riding stance. As your right foot steps out, your right hand sends the tail of your staff forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, your feet pointing toward the north. Your chest is also facing toward the north, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s spear. The posture is the same as in photo 24. See photo 37:

第十章
(CHAPTER TEN)

第三十八動作
MOVEMENT 38:

同時乙方槍樽。與甲方棍頭向上絞。槍樽在上。棍頭在下。絞至與頭平。乙方槍樽縮回。提高。同時右足向後再撤一步。左手沈下伸直。使槍尖朝下。在身之左手。猛向前推。右手用力下捶。使槍尖直刺甲方左腿下部。其姿式與前不變。唯此時右足在後。而胸已轉向起點右方。同時甲方。左手棍頭與槍樽相絞。見槍刺來。右足猛向前開一步。同時左肘曲。棍頭抬起。向上。右手下沈。使棍尾向下。右手向前一推。使棍尾猛抵乙槍。兩膝彎曲。仍成騎馬式。唯此時。右足在前。胸已向起點右方。以上姿式。與前第二十六圖相同。其式如第三十八圖。
The end of B’s spear and the head of A’s staff are coiling upward, spear on top, staff underneath. B, once they are at head level, withdraw the end of your spear by lifting it high, your right foot withdrawing a step behind you [your left foot following], your left hand sinking down, the arm straightening, pointing the tip of your spear downward to your left, and then your left hand fiercely pushes forward, your right hand forcefully dropping downward, sending the tip of your spear stabbing toward A’s left lower leg. The posture is the same as in the previous movement, your right foot behind, your chest facing toward the north.
  A, your left hand is holding the head of your staff as it coils with the end of B’s spear, and then when you see the stab coming, your right foot suddenly shifts a step forward [your left foot following], your left elbow bending, sending the head of your staff upward, your right hand sinking down, sending the tail of your staff downward, and your right hand pushes the tail forward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear. Both knees are bending, again making a horse-riding stance, your right foot forward, your chest facing toward the north. The posture is the same as in photo 26 [which is itself a repeat of photo 24 and was just reused for Movement 37]. See photo 38 [in this case a reverse view]:

第三十九動作
MOVEMENT 39:

甲方不停。左手鬆開。移抓右手後方棍尾。右手在前。兩手用力。使棍頭經上方向前。照乙方左肩斜劈。同時上身亦向前探。兩足不動。其餘姿式與前不變。乙方右手槍樽。縮回右脅後下方。左手用力。將槍抬起。向身之左方猛帶。左肘曲。手心向起點後方。右手沈。同時右足不動。膝蓋彎曲。左足向後退回半步。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點正前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第三十九圖。
A, without pausing, your left hand lets go and shifts its grip to the tail of your staff behind your right hand, your right hand now forward, and both hands forcefully send the head of your staff forward from above, chopping diagonally toward B’s left shoulder, your upper body reaching forward, your feet staying where they are. The rest of the posture remains the same as in the previous movement.
  B, your right hand withdraws the end of your spear below and behind your right ribs as your left hand forcefully lifts your spear into a sudden dragging action to your left, the elbow bending, the center of the hand facing toward the east, your right hand sinking. At the same time, your right foot stays where it is, the knee bending, your left foot withdrawing a half step, heel slightly lifted, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 39:

第四十動作
MOVEMENT 40:

甲方仍雙手持棍。右手在前。將棍抬起。復照乙方左腿下方打一掃蹚。同時乙方。雙腿高跳。此時棍已轉甲之左方。甲方兩足不動。復將棍抬起。又照乙方頭部直劈。右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點後方。面亦向後方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方雙手持槍。向上猛托。兩手朝上伸直。右足在前。膝蓋彎曲。左足在後伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第四十圖。
A, still with both hands holding your staff, your right hand forward, lift your staff, then attack B’s lower left leg with a “sweeping the hall” action.
  B, jump high with both legs, letting A’s staff arc through toward the north.
  A, with your feet staying where they are, lift your staff and then chop toward B’s head, your right knee bending forward, left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the east, your face also toward the east, your gaze toward B.
  B, your hands send your spear fiercely propping up, your arms straightening upward, your right knee bending forward, your left leg straightening behind, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward A. See photo 40:

第四十一動作
MOVEMENT 41:

乙方雙手沈下。挺槍照甲方頭額直刺。其姿式與前不變。同時甲方見槍刺來。右足向左足後方。猛撤一步。同時雙手縮回。使棍頭朝上。猛向右帶。此時左膝微曲。右足在前伸直。足踵微提起。足尖觸地。胸向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十一圖。
B, your hands sink down and you extend your spear with a stab toward A’s forehead, the [rest of] your posture remaining the same as in the previous movement.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot suddenly withdraws a step behind your left foot [withdraws a half step in front of your left foot] as your hands also withdraw, sending the head of your staff upward and fiercely dragging to the right, your left knee slightly bending, your right leg straightening in front, the heel slightly lifting, toes touching down. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 41:

第四十二動作
MOVEMENT 42:

乙方復將槍縮回。姿式不變。又照甲方左腿下部直刺。同時甲方。左足向起點右方橫移一小步。兩手擰勁。使棍頭在上。朝下猛捕。右足不動。膝蓋向下曲。左足向起點右後方伸直。足尖向起點左後方。腰部向前曲。此時右手在前。手心向下。左手在後。手心向上。兩胳膊成斜十字架。右手在上。左手在下。兩手距離約五六寸。棍頭向右後方。觸地。胸向起點左後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十二圖。
B, withdraw your spear, your posture not changing, and then stab downward toward A’s left [right] leg.
  A, your left [right] foot shifts a small step across toward the north as your hands twist, sending the head of your staff from above to fiercely seize downward, your right foot now staying where it is, the knee bending downward, as your left leg straightens toward the northeast, the toes pointing toward the southeast, your upper body slightly leaning forward. Your right hand is now in front, the center of the hand facing downward, your left hand behind, the center of the hand facing upward, your forearms making an X shape, right arm above, left arm below, your hands about half a foot apart. The head of your staff is touching the ground toward the southwest [northeast]. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 42:

第四十三動作
MOVEMENT 43:

乙方姿式不變。將槍縮回。復照甲方頭額左端直刺。同時甲方站起。雙手持棍。與前不變。向上猛托。兩胳膊均向上伸直。棍頭向起點右後下方。胸向起點左後方。面向起點後方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十三圖。
B, without changing your posture, withdraw your spear, then stab toward the left side of A’s forehead.
  A, rise up with both hands holding your staff, their position not changing, and fiercely prop up B’s spear, your arms straightening upward, the head of your staff pointing downward [upward] toward the northeast. Your chest is facing toward the southeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 43:

第四十四動作
MOVEMENT 44 [switching places]:

承上式。甲方將槍托出。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向前開一步。雙手持棍。與前不變。用力使棍頭。經後旋轉。由右方橫向乙方腰部。攔腰一棍。(此時胸已由左轉、向起點右方、左足轉向前右足在後)在攔腰之際。同時左足。再由右足前方。向後撤一步。右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點正前方。雙手在前抓棍伸直。右手心向上。左手在後向下。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。同時乙方見棍照攔腰打來。左手抬起。使槍尖向上。右手下沈。左足向起點右方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後面。向前開一步。及時原地向左轉。使胸向起點後方。(此時左足轉向前、右足在後)同時左足在前。向右足後方撤一步。右膝在前彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右方。在右足向前開步之際。兩手用力。使槍中段。猛抵甲棍。面向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。其式如第四十四圖。
A, continuing from the previous posture, having propped away A’s spear, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot, your hands not changing their position on your staff as they forcefully send the head of your staff arcing behind you and then swinging across toward B’s waist from your right. (In this instant, your chest is turning leftward to be facing toward the north so that as your left foot is turning in front of you, your right foot is momentarily becoming the rear foot.) Then as you swing across to his waist, your left foot withdraws behind your right foot [causing you to fully switch places with B], your right knee bending in front, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the east, your hands extending your staff forward with the center of your right hand facing upward, your left hand behind, the center of the hand facing downward. You are facing toward the west, your gaze toward B.
  B, when you see A’s staff swinging toward your waist, your left hand lifts, sending the tip of your spear upward, your right hand sinking down, as your left foot shifts a small step across toward the north, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot. (In this instant, your chest is turning leftward to be facing toward the east so that as your left foot is turning in front of you, your right foot is momentarily becoming the rear foot.) Then your left foot withdraws to be behind your right foot [causing you to fully switch places with A], your right knee bending in front, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the north. As your right foot steps forward, your hands forcefully send the middle section of your spear to suddenly brace away A’s staff. You are facing toward the east, your gaze toward A. See photo 44:

第四十五動作
MOVEMENT 45:

乙方右足向後撤一步。同時右手槍樽。後縮。左手沈下。挺槍照甲方頭額右端直刺。同時甲方。仍雙手持棍。向上猛托。兩手朝上過頂。使棍頭向起點右前下方。右足退回半步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。上身微向後縮。胸仍向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十五圖。
B, your right foot withdraws a step as your right hand withdraws the end of your spear, your left hand sinking down, then extend your spear, stabbing toward the right side of A’s forehead.
  A, still holding your staff with both hands, fiercely prop up, your hands going higher than your headtop, the head of your staff pointing downward toward the northwest, your right foot withdrawing a half step, heel lifted, toes touching down, your upper body slightly withdrawing. Your chest is again facing toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 45:

第四十六動作
MOVEMENT 46:

乙方將槍縮回。復照甲方腿部下方直刺。其姿式與前不變。甲方見槍刺來。同時右足。向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。左足由右足後方。向前開一步。雙手持棍。用力使棍頭。由後經上方。向前猛捕。棍頭在前觸地。右手在前。手心向下。左手在後。手心向上。兩手成斜十字。右手在上。左手在下。兩手距離約五六寸。左腿在前伸直。右足曲膝。上身向前撲。使全身重點。移於右腿。胸向起點右前方。面向起點正前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十六圖。
B, withdraw your spear and then stab downward toward A’s [right] leg, the rest of your posture remaining the same as in the previous movement.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your right foot shifts a small step across toward the south, toes swinging outward, and your left foot takes a step forward from behind your right foot, as your hands forcefully send the head of your staff to the rear, continuing over you, and then fiercely seizing forward, the head of your staff touching the ground. Your right hand is in front, the center of the hand facing downward, your left hand behind, the center of the hand facing upward, your forearms making an X shape, right arm above, left hand below, your hands about half a foot apart. Your left leg is forward and straightened, your right knee bending, and your upper body is leaning forward, the weight on your right leg. Your chest is facing toward the northwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 46 [reverse view]:

第四十七動作
MOVEMENT 47:

同時乙方。復將槍縮回。又照甲方頭額直刺。姿式與前相同。此時甲方全身提起。左足退回一小步。足踵提起。足尖觸地。雙手原處不動。抬起。向上使棍中段。猛抵乙槍。棍頭向起點左前下方。胸向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十七圖。
B, withdraw your spear and then stab toward A’s forehead, the rest of your posture remaining the same as in the previous movement.
  A, your body rises and your left foot retreats a small step, heel lifted, toes touching down, as your hands lift, not changing their position, sending the middle of your staff upward, fiercely bracing away B’s spear, the head of your staff pointing downward [upward] toward the southwest. Your chest is facing toward the west [northwest]. Your gaze is toward B. See photo 47 [reverse view]:

第四十八動作
MOVEMENT 48:

甲方左足向起點右方橫一小步。足尖向外撇。右足由左足後方。向前開一步。同時雙手持棍。經右方。照乙方左腿下部猛掃。兩手在前伸直。右足在前。膝蓋彎曲。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左前方。面向起點正前方。兩目注視乙腿。同時乙方。左足向起點左方橫移一小步。足尖向外撇。右足在左足後方。向前開一步。同時右手沈下。左手抬起。使槍尖向上。右手上移向前推。猛抵甲棍。右足在前曲膝。左腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右後方。兩目注視甲棍。其式如第四十八圖。
A, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the north, toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot as your hands send your staff swinging through on your right side and fiercely sweeping toward B’s left leg, both hands going forward, your arms straightening. Your right foot is forward, the knee bending, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow [although the photo shows A in a horse-riding stance]. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B’s leg.
  B, your left foot shifts a small step across toward the south [steps back toward the east], toes swinging outward, and your right foot takes a step forward from behind your left foot [shifts forward, toes swinging inward]. At the same time, your right hand sinks down and your left hand lifts, sending the tip of your spear upward, your right hand then shifting upward, and you push forward, fiercely bracing away A’s staff. Your right foot is forward, the knee bending, your left leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow [although the photo shows B in a horse-riding stance]. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your gaze toward A’s staff. See photo 48:

第四十九動作
MOVEMENT 49:

乙方右手槍提起。縮回右脅後方。同時右足向後撤一步。左手下沈。挺直照甲方頭額直刺。左腿在前曲膝。右腿在後伸直。成小前弓後箭步。胸向起點後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方。見槍照頭部刺來。兩足不動。上身向後縮。使右腿伸直。左腿弓曲。成左弓右箭步。同時雙手持棍。向上猛托乙槍。胸向起點左前方。面向起點前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第四十九圖。
B, your right hand lifts your spear, withdrawing it behind your right ribs, your right foot withdrawing a step behind you, your left hand sinking down. Then extend, stabbing toward A’s forehead, your left leg bending in front, right leg straightening behind, making a small stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the east, your gaze toward A.
  A, when you see the stab coming, your feet stay where they are, your upper body withdrawing, your right leg straightening, left leg bending, making a stance of left leg a bow, right leg an arrow. At the same time, your hands send your staff upward, fiercely propping away B’s spear. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the west, your gaze toward B. See photo 49 [reverse view]:

第五十動作
MOVEMENT 50:

同時乙方。見槍托出不停。復將槍縮回。又照甲方腿部直刺。(此時右手單手直砍、左手鬆開、停於頭部上方、五指伸開並攏、手心向上)右手挺槍之際。左足向後撤一步。膝蓋彎曲。右腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點右後方。面向起點正後方。兩目注視甲方。同時甲方不停。右足經左足前面。向起點後方橫開一步。左足亦向起點後方橫開一步。同時右手持棍。向裏擰勁。(左手鬆開)使棍頭朝裏向外猛掛。左手停於頭部上方。五指伸開並攏。手心向上。此時左足曲膝。右腿伸直。成前弓後箭步。胸向起點左前方。面向起點正前方。兩目注視乙方。其式如第五十圖。
B, when you see A’s staff propping up, do not pause, instead withdraw your spear and then stab toward A’s [right] leg. (This time, your right hand works alone, your left hand coming away and finishing above your head, fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward.) As your right hand extends your spear, your left foot withdraws a step and the knee bends, your right leg straightening, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the northeast, your face toward the east, your gaze toward A.
  A, also without pausing, your right foot takes a step toward the east, passing in front of your left foot, then your left foot also takes a step toward the east. At the same time, your right hand holds your staff (your left hand letting go), twisting inward so that the head of your staff goes inward, then it fiercely goes outward with a hanging action, your left hand finishing above your head, fingers extended but together, the center of the hand facing upward. Your left knee is bent, your right leg straightened, making a stance of front leg a bow, rear leg an arrow. Your chest is facing toward the southwest, your face toward the east, your gaze toward B. See photo 50:

2018 Christmas Shopping List: Martial Arts Equipment and Long Reads to Get You Through the Winter Months

Bernard the Kung Fu Elf riding Shotgun with Santa. (Source: Vintage American Postcard, authors personal collection.)

 

I am not going to lie. The annual Christmas list is my favorite post of the year. So welcome to Kung Fu Tea’s seventh annual holiday shopping list!  Not only are we going to find some cool gift ideas, but hopefully this post will inspire you to make time for martial arts practice during the festive season.  Training is a great way to deal with the various stresses that holidays always bring.  And Christmas is the perfect excuse to stock up on that gear that you have been needing all year.

This year’s shopping list is split into four categories: books, training equipment, weapons, and (for the first time) “gifts for the martial artist who has everything”. This last category will focus on experiences rather than objects. I have tried to select items at a variety of price points for each category. Some of the gift ideas are quite reasonable while others are admittedly aspirational. After all, Christmas is a time for dreams, so why not dream big!

Given the emphasis of this blog, many of these ideas pertain to the Chinese martial arts, but I do try to branch out in places. I have also put at least one Wing Chun related item in each category. Nevertheless, with a little work many of these ideas could be adapted to fit the interests of just about any martial artist.

As a disclaimer I should point out that I have no financial relationship with any of the firms listed below (except for the part where I plug my own book). This is simply a list of gift ideas that I thought were interesting. It is not an endorsement or a formal product review. Lastly, I would like to thank my friend Bernard the “Kung Fu Elf” (see above) for helping me to brainstorm this list.

 

 

 

 

Books to Feed You Head

This has been a good year for books. Nowhere is the growth of martial arts studies more evident than in the explosion of new publications.  Things have been so busy this year that I have been forced to restrict myself to new releases. Still, the first item on this list is both reasonably priced and outstanding reading….

 

Martial Arts Studies Reader. Edited by Paul Bowman ($38 USD)

The Martial Arts Studies Reader answers this need, by bringing together pioneers of the field and scholars at its cutting edges to offer authoritative and accessible insights into its key concerns and areas. Each chapter introduces and sets out an approach to and a route through a key issue in a specific area of martial arts studies. Taken together or in isolation, the chapters offer stimulating and exciting insights into this fascinating research area. In this way, The Martial Arts Studies Reader offers the first authoritative field-defining overview of the global and multidisciplinary phenomena of martial arts and martial arts studies.

 

Politics and Identity in Chinese Martial Arts by Lu Zhouxiang ($78 USD HC Routledge)

Chinese martial arts is considered by many to symbolise the strength of the Chinese and their pride in their history, and has long been regarded as an important element of Chinese culture and national identity. Politics and Identity in Chinese Martial Arts comprehensively examines the development of Chinese martial arts in the context of history and politics, and highlights its role in nation building and identity construction over the past two centuries. ?

This book explores how the development of Chinese martial arts was influenced by the ruling regimes’ political and military policies, as well as the social and economic environment. It also discusses the transformation of Chinese martial arts into its modern form as a competitive sport, a sport for all and a performing art, considering the effect of the rapid transformation of Chinese society in the 20th century and the influence of Western sports. The text concludes by examining the current prominence of Chinese martial arts on a global scale and the bright future of the sport as a unique cultural icon and national symbol of China in an era of globalisation.

You can find my review of this book here.  While I am a bit disappointed that the author failed to engage with the recent English language scholarship on the Chinese martial arts, this book is sure to show up in many future bibliographies.

 

 

Now for something a little lighter (err, easier to read…at 500 pages this book is actually quite heavy…)

Bruce Lee: A Life by Matthew Polly (paperback $18 USD)

The most authoritative biography—featuring dozens of rarely seen photographs—of film legend Bruce Lee, who made martial arts a global phenomenon, bridged the divide between Eastern and Western cultures, and smashed long-held stereotypes of Asians and Asian-Americans.

Forty-five years after Bruce Lee’s sudden death at age thirty-two, journalist and bestselling author Matthew Polly has written the definitive account of Lee’s life. It’s also one of the only accounts; incredibly, there has never been an authoritative biography of Lee. Following a decade of research that included conducting more than one hundred interviews with Lee’s family, friends, business associates, and even the actress in whose bed Lee died, Polly has constructed a complex, humane portrait of the icon.

Polly explores Lee’s early years as a child star in Hong Kong cinema; his actor father’s struggles with opium addiction and how that turned Bruce into a troublemaking teenager who was kicked out of high school and eventually sent to America to shape up; his beginnings as a martial arts teacher, eventually becoming personal instructor to movie stars like James Coburn and Steve McQueen; his struggles as an Asian-American actor in Hollywood and frustration seeing role after role he auditioned for go to a white actors in eye makeup; his eventual triumph as a leading man; his challenges juggling a sky-rocketing career with his duties as a father and husband; and his shocking end that to this day is still shrouded in mystery.

Polly breaks down the myths surrounding Bruce Lee and argues that, contrary to popular belief, he was an ambitious actor who was obsessed with the martial arts—not a kung-fu guru who just so happened to make a couple of movies. This is an honest, revealing look at an impressive yet imperfect man whose personal story was even more entertaining and inspiring than any fictional role he played onscreen.

You can find my interview with Polly where he got into a more detailed discussion about researching a book like this one here.

 

 

 

The Historical Sociology of Japanese Martial Arts  by Raul Sanchez Garcia ($43 USD Kindle)

 

This is the first long-term analysis of the development of Japanese martial arts, connecting ancient martial traditions with the martial arts practised today. The Historical Sociology of Japanese Martial Arts captures the complexity of the emergence and development of martial traditions within the broader Japanese Civilising Process.

The book traces the structured process in which warriors’ practices became systematised and expanded to the Japanese population and the world. Using the theoretical framework of Norbert Elias’s process-sociology and drawing on rich empirical data, the book also compares the development of combat practices in Japan, England, France and Germany, making a new contribution to our understanding of the socio-cultural dynamics of state formation. Throughout this analysis light is shed onto a gender blind spot, taking into account the neglected role of women in martial arts.

The Historical Sociology of Japanese Martial Arts is important reading for students of Socio-Cultural Perspectives in Sport, Sociology of Physical Activity, Historical Development of Sport in Society, Asian Studies, Sociology and Philosophy of Sport, and Sports History and Culture. It is also a fascinating resource for scholars, researchers and practitioners interested in the historical and socio-cultural aspects of combat sport and martial arts.

Sound interesting?  You can read the first chapter of this book here.

 

 

Embodying Brazil: An ethnography of diasporic capoeira ($ 49.95 USD Paperback) by Sara Delamont, Neil Stephens, Claudio Campos.

The practice of capoeira, the Brazilian dance-fight-game, has grown rapidly in recent years. It has become a popular leisure activity in many cultures, as well as a career for Brazilians in countries across the world including the US, the UK, Canada and Australia. This original ethnographic study draws on the latest research conducted on capoeira in the UK to understand this global phenomenon. It not only presents an in-depth investigation of the martial art, but also provides a wealth of data on masculinities, performativity, embodiment, globalisation and rites of passage.

Centred in cultural sociology, while drawing on anthropology and the sociology of sport and dance, the book explores the experiences of those learning and teaching capoeira at a variety of levels. From beginners’ first encounters with this martial art to the perspectives of more advanced students, it also sheds light on how teachers experience their own re-enculturation as they embody the exotic ‘other’.

Embodying Brazil: An Ethnography of Diasporic Capoeira is fascinating reading for all capoeira enthusiasts, as well as for anyone interested in the sociology of sport, sport and social theory, sport, race and ethnicity, or Latin-American Studies.

 

Still don’t see what you are looking for?  I have heard about this great book on the history of Wing Chun and the Southern Chinese martial arts (now out in paperback, $25 USD)….

 

 

 

 

Training Gear

Five Photos Brand Dit Da Jow ($20 for 7.5 ounces)

You don’t need very much gear to practice the Chinese martial arts.  But that doesn’t mean it isn’t nice to have a couple of things on hand, particularly when you start to get bruised up from partner work or dummy drills.  While researching the history of a prominent family of martial arts practicing pharmacists in Foshan I came across the story of this particular brand of Dit Da Jow.  I should probably dig some of that research out of my notes and turn it into an essay. But ever since then, I have kept a bottle of it around.  You can usually find this brand at your local Chinese pharmacy, or even a good sized grocery story.  Barring that, you can always just order it from Amazon.

 

 

 

Flexzion Kicking Strike Shield ($18 USD)

This style of striking pad that was popularized in Muay Thai training, but I use it all the time in my Wing Chun practice.  Honestly, I can’t think of the (striking) school that couldn’t use a few more pairs of these.  Best of all, the size is always right!  The perfect inexpensive gift for the Sifu in your life.

 

 

The perfect sword/HEMA gear bag ($150 USD)

Having the right gear is good.  But having the perfect bag to haul it all around in is (as they say) priceless.  That is particularly true if the gear you are hauling is heavy, awkwardly shaped, or likely to freak people out if you were just walk down the sidewalk with it on your shoulder. These bags can be pricey at $150.  But after having destroyed a few lower quality, non-purpose built bags over the last year, I am gaining a renewed appreciation for how easy a good gear bag can make life. Particularly when swords and lightsabers are involved.

 

 

Hayabusa T3 Kanpeki 7oz Hybrid Kickboxing MMA Gloves ($129 USD)

Everyone seems to be talking about bringing more competitive style sparring into traditional Chinese martial arts training.  And that means thinking about the right gear.  I like my Hayabusa boxing gloves, but something like this might be great for those who want a little more dexterity for grabs, laups and paks.

 

 

A set of wooden dummy arms and legs ($333 USD, but totally worth it)

And now for some “affordable” luxury.  In the last couple of years a number of my kung fu brothers have bought (or switched to) iron body training dummies. These are a lot cheaper than nicely made wooden dummies, and they can easily be stuck in the corner of room that might not otherwise accommodate a hanging dummy (which I still think is the way to go if you have a chance).  But while the quality of the Jong’s body and base is often great, I have noticed several (and I mean lots) of complaints about broken legs and rough workmanship on the arms.  Lets face it, these are the parts of the dummy that we actually come into contact with the most frequently.  So why not upgrade that part of your Jong to something a little more reliable and nicer to the touch?

 

 

 

 

 

Weapons

Hanwei Practical Tai Chi Sword ($120 USD)

At $120, is this the perfect jian for basic skills training and forms work?  I have had a couple of longtime practitioners make that argument recently, based not just on the price point but the weight of this sword.  Given my continuing exploration of Wudang Jian, I have a feeling that this is one item that might be making its way onto my personal shopping list.

 

 

 

Purpleheart Armory Dadao Trainer ($45.99 USD)

There is no denying that the dadao is hot.  I am seeing lots of interest in this weapon.  The social scientist in me thinks that we need to take a step back and ponder what this all means.  But my more practical side just wants to grab one of these trainers and work on some sword vs. bayonet drills. This particular trainer is available with either a disk or “S” guard.  Also check out Purpleheart’s nylon jian trainers.

 

 

 

Kris Cutlery Wood Training Knives ($25 USD)

Yeah, rubber is always a safer option for partner drills, but these trainers, made of ebony are really beautiful. At $25 I just can’t say no.

 

 

Antique late 19th(early 20th) century Nepalese Kukri ($99 USD)

If you would prefer a sharper (and more historically/ethnographically significant) knife at a decent price point, why not consider an antique Nepalese military kukri. I have been collecting these for years, and have always found it ironic that the originals are so cheap compared to the latter British and Indian copies that were mass produced during the World Wars.  Once you get your kukri be sure to check out this guide and discover your knife’s history.

 

 

Handmade, traditional style, butterfly sword from the Philippines. ($350 USD).

There are lots of high quality butterfly swords out there, but I have been partial to these as their slim construction is much closer to most of the antiques that have survived than the sorts of “chopping” swords which became more popular after the early 20th century. And lets be honest, nothing say’s “Christmas” to the Wing Chun student/instructor in your life more than discovering a set of these in their stocking.

 

 

 

 

 

For the Martial Artist Who Has Everything….

 

I have long believed that many people are attracted to the martial arts as a type of virtual tourism. By practicing these arts we find a way to visit, contemplate and experience aspects of a time or place that we might not otherwise be able to visit.  That is an important point to stress as survey data suggest that increasingly consumers value unique experiences more than the acquisition of objects.  As such, the last section of our holiday list provides a different take on what the martial arts have to offer.

Lets begin with a destination that one can only visit through martial arts training. Have you (or the Star Wars fan in your life) ever wanted to learn to wield an elegant weapon from a more civilized age?  If so, consider joining the Terra Prime Light Armory.  Its a free, open-source, lightsaber academy run by experienced martial artists (mostly Kung Fu/Taijiaqan guys, but you will find some other stuff in there as well).  If there is a brick and mortar club in your area they will be more than happy to point you in the right direction, and if not they offer an extensive database of on-line learning tools with individualized feedback mechanisms.  Best of all, a voyage with the “Learners in Exile Corps” will not cost you a thing as these guys are in it for the love of the game.  Sometimes the best things in life really are free!

 

 

 

No matter what aspect of the martial arts, and their interaction with popular culture, you are interested in, you are likely to find it at Combat Con.  Held annually in Las Vegas (August 1-4, 2019), this event is unique in that it brings together a wide range of armed and unarmed martial arts instructors, while also hosting a variety of tournaments, performances, workshops for writers and game developers, cosplay contests and yes, even a full contact lightsaber tournament ($15 entrance feee).  So if you are a social scientist who studies the martial arts in the modern world, the only question you have to ask yourself is why aren’t you already planning on going?

Its hard to estimate the cost of this one.  Obviously you will need to fly to Vegas in August (which, in all honesty, is not the best time of year to visit this desert oasis).  The public can visit the event for free, but if you want to do all of the workshops, tournaments and events you will probably end up paying in the $200-$300 range.

 

 

Left to Right: Doug Farrer, Scott Phillips, Paul Bowman at the Farewell Dinner of the 2015 Martial Arts Studies Conference in Cardiff.

 

 

For the more academically inclined, why not give the gift of a conference registration to the inaugural North American session of the annual Martial Arts Studies meetings?  These will be held May 23-24, 2019, at Chapman University in sunny California.  Best of all, the registration is free if you email the conference organizers in advance and ask for tickets (click the link for details).

Its not hard to find cheap plane tickets to LA, and this is the premier event of the Martial Arts Studies community.  I can’t say enough about how much I have enjoyed these meetings over the years. The sense of community is really unlike anything I have ever seen at a conference before. An advanced registration would make the perfect gift for either yourself or the erudite warrior/scholar in your life.

 

A still from Come Drink With Me. Classic martial arts cinema at its best.

 

How about visiting a martial arts film festival in a destination city in 2019?  Most major cities host one or more Asian film festivals a year. These are often a great place to see new and classic martial arts films, and if you are lucky you might find a festival dedicated just to classic Kung Fu films.  We are still a little early in the year to have confirmed dates (these events are generally announced a month or two in advance), but New York City is a great destination for these sorts of festivals.  And if you are going to be in Manhattan in June or July, there is an excellent chance you will find something you are interested in at the 2019 Asian Film Festival hosted by the Film Society of Lincoln Center.  But keep an eye out as you can often find smaller film festivals in a city near you!

 

 

Study with Master Li Quan (teaching Emei Style Southern Kung Fu and Wing Chun) in Chengdu, one of the most beautiful cities in China.

This is the part of the list where we dream big.  It goes without saying that China is full of places where you can spend a few months studying the martial art of your choice (including Wing Chun).  I selected this school as Chengdu is on my bucket list of places to stay for a few months, and one of my friends studied with Master Li for years when he lived in the area as a journalist.  This would be a very authentic/rustic experience, rather than the sort of school catering to the “glampers” out there.  And Chengdu has a great martial arts history that needs more exploration in the English language literature.

Prices for extended live-in training start at just under $1000 USD (not including airfare).  Of course the real cost of this this sort of “Kung Fu Pilgrimage” is taking a few months off from work.  But this is the stuff that dreams are made of!

That is it for this year’s Christmas shopping list.  If you have other suggestions for items that might be of interest to the Kung Fu Tea  community tell us in the comments!

 

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Need more gift recommendations?  Why not check out some of the previous lists?

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Bruce Lee: Memory, Philosophy and the Tao of Gung Fu

Bruce Lee with his favorite onscreen weapon.
Bruce Lee with his favorite onscreen weapon.

 

***I am off visiting family over the holiday weekend, so we are headed back to the archives. Since our (American) readers have just celebrated Thanksgiving, I though it would be appropriate to revisit an essay that asks what we should be grateful for as martial artists and students of martial arts studies.  Spoiler alert, the answer is Bruce Lee.***


Introduction: Bruce Lee at 75

Yesterday I celebrated Thanksgiving with my family. As is customary on this day of remembrance I took a few moments to think about the last year and review the many things that I had to be grateful for. The year has been an eventful one.

In the professional realm I had a book published on the social history of the southern Chinese martial arts. I also delivered a keynote address at the first annual martial arts studies conference in the UK and, just recently, saw the publication of the first issue of our new journal on that same topic. I have had opportunities to meet and share my interests with all sorts of fascinating people from all over the world, and have started a number of other projects that should be bearing fruit months and years down the road. As the old Chinese saying goes, a wise man thinks of the source of the water that he drinks, and as I did so it occurred to me that I owe a profound debt of gratitude to Bruce Lee.

Today is the 75th anniversary of Lee’s birth in San Francisco. Born in California and raised in Hong Kong before returning to the West Coast at the end of the 1950s, Lee had a profound effect on the worlds of film, popular culture and the martial arts. While many claims about his career are exaggerated (one should treat with a certain degree of suspicion any assertion that someone was the “first” to do anything) there can be no doubt as to his ultimate impact on the public perception of the martial arts in America, as well as their rapid spread and popularization in the post-1970 era.

For anyone wondering what the point of Kung Fu was, Lee had a very specific answer. It combined a laser like focus on the problems of practical self-defense with a need to find personal and philosophical meaning in practice.

Like others who came before him, Lee argued that the martial arts were ultimately a means of self-creation. Yet drawing on the counter-cultural currents of the time he freed this discourse from the ideological chains that had linked such quests with ethno-nationalist projects for much of the 20th century. He instead placed the individual student at the center of the process. For Lee the martial arts went beyond the normal paradigms of personal security and self improvement and became a means of self actualization.

His own image on the silver screen promised that through these disciplines and their philosophies one could craft a “new self,” one that was fully fit for the challenges of an age of global competition and strife. It was promised that this “new self” would grow out of the process of self expression which the martial arts facilitated. Of course one had to first understand the true nature of these systems to free oneself from their stultifying structures. Individuals might agree or disagree (sometimes violently) with Lee’s assertions, but its hard to underestimate the impact that he had on the ways in which the martial arts are discussed in the West today.

Does this mean that in the absence of Bruce Lee I would not have written my book, or that we would not currently be reading a blog about martial arts studies? Ultimately those sorts of counterfactuals are impossible to answer, and they may cause more confusion than light. Japanese teachers had been promoting their arts in the West since the dawn of the 20th century. Sophia Delza knew nothing of Bruce Lee when she introduced Wu style Taijiquan to New York City. And the Korean government’s heavy support and promotion of Taekwondo had more to do with their own post-colonial struggles with the memory of the Japanese occupation than anything that came out of China.

I suspect that even in a world in which Lee had never existed the martial arts would still have found a respectable foothold in the West. A demand for these systems existed as part of larger cultural trends following WWII, Korea and the Vietnam War. Lee’s genius lay in his ability to understand and speak powerfully to the historical moment that existed.

Following his own advice he bent with the flow of history rather than fighting against it. Certainly some things would remain the same. That seems to follow from the structural nature of 20th century modernization and globalization. Ultimately our theories about the history of the martial arts are very much stories about these two forces (among others).

Yet would I be a student of Wing Chun, a somewhat obscure fighting system from the Pearl River delta region, without Bruce Lee’s rise to fame? Would I have had an opportunity to convince a university press to publish a book whose central historical case was built around a detailed, multi-chapter, biography of Ip Man, Bruce Lee’s teacher? And what of those individuals who study the martial arts? Would this body be as diverse (and sometimes radical) in the absence of Lee’s striking ability to speak to African and Latin-American martial artists (as well as many women and Asians) in the volatile 1970s?

Anthropological studies of the martial arts and social marginality remind us that people who are the most attracted to messages of resistance and individual empowerment are precisely those who have also been disempowered by the dominant social systems of the day. While the globalization of the East Asian martial arts would have come in one guise or another, its clear that I do have a lot to be grateful for when thinking about Lee’s contributions as a film maker, teacher and popularizer of the Chinese martial arts.

Birthdays are also important times for looking to the future. There can be no doubt that Lee’s image has retained a remarkable grip on the public imagination. Decades after his death he still frequently appears on magazine covers and in video games. Books bearing his name (either as an author or in their title) are found in every bookstore with a martial arts section. And Lee’s impact on the realm of martial art films can still be detected with ease. Countless allusions to his more iconic fight sequences can be seen on both the big and small screen. Ninjas may come and go, but even in the age of MMA it seems that Bruce will always have a home on the cover of Black Beltmagazine.

Still, one wonders if we are not starting to see changes in some aspects of how Lee is remembered and discussed. AMC recently aired a new series titled “Into the Badlands.” I have been following the advertising efforts around this project with great interest. The show’s creators have prided themselves in their extensive use of the martial arts. In fact, much of their advertising copy focuses on the fact that they are bringing “real” martial arts to the American small screen for the first time. Of course to make this claim with a straight face it is first necessary to seriously downplay, explain away or “forget” quite a bit of equally revolutionary TV that has come before, from Bruce Lee in the Green Hornet to Chuck Norris in Walker Texas Ranger.

A lot of discussion has also focused on Daniel Wu, the lead actor of this project. The show’s promoters have discussed the supposedly revolutionary nature of his role and the many ways in which he is changing the portrayal of Asian males in the entertainment industry. Yet if one drills down into this rhetoric very far what quickly becomes apparent is that Wu is seen as revolutionary in many of the exact same ways that Lee was seen as exceptional in his own era. The one real difference that stands out is that Wu’s character has the potential to develop a truly romantic story-line, where as this was something that was usually not seen with Lee’s films.

While the blame for this is often put on Hollywood (and there is no doubt that much of that is justified) one must also remember that Lee’s heroes came out of a genera of Cantonese storytelling and filmmaking in which romantic and martial leads tended to be somewhat segregated for important cultural reasons (see Avron Bortez for an extensive discussion of the construction of masculinity in the world of Kung Fu). While I applaud Wu for being able to pursue the sorts of roles that he finds interesting, I worry that his revolution is simultaneously erasing some of the traditional conventions of Chinese film and literature rather than challenging Western audiences with something unfamiliar. This is essentially the same discussion of hybrid borrowing vs. hegemony that seems to emerge in so many discussions of the globalization of popular culture. But whatever the ultimate resolution to this debate, it seems that there is an effort on the part of certain advertisers to retool and downplay Bruce Lee’s achievements in an effort to create a new moment of “revolution” in the current era.

Readers interested in looking at this specific discussion can see a number of the links that were included both in the most recent news update and on the Facebook group (in particular the Slate article titled “Daniel Wu is the Asian Action Hero that Bruce Lee Should have Been.”) Actually resolving the specific questions raised by all of this might take some time and far exceeds the space available in this post. Yet reviewing it led me to ask whether Bruce Lee is still the revolutionary figure that he once was. In our current moment do we still need Bruce Lee and his message of radical self-creation through the martial arts? Can he still act as a force for the popularization and spread of these fighting systems? Or is he becoming too culturally remote from modern students, readers and audiences? Is it likely that the public will remember his 100th birthday with the same enthusiasm that is greeting his 75th?

 

Ip Man and his best known student, Bruce Lee.
Ip Man and his best known student, Bruce Lee.

 

Bruce Lee and the Tao of Gung Fu

As I thought about these questions over the last couple of days I found myself turning to Lee’s unpublished “manuscript” The Tao of Gung Fu. In some respects this may seem like an odd choice. This book was never published in Lee’s lifetime, and as such most of this material had a rather limited impact on the way that people discussed either him or the martial arts in the 1970s and 1980s.

Nor is it always clear to me the degree to which this collection of chapters can be considered a true “book.” From the editor’s (John Little) description it appears that Lee abandoned the project before a complete manuscript was pulled together. A number of the early chapters were in place (they even make internal references to each other) but after that there may only have been an outline. This has been flushed out with notes, drawings and other pieces that Lee wrote over the years. Some pieces are in a more finished state than others, but none of it was ever intended to be made public during Lee’s life. In fact, it must be remembered that he made the rather conscious decision to walk away from the project. As such we can only speculate as to what would have made it into the final version had Bruce decided to actually pursue publication.

One of the things that bothers me about this particular book, as it was posthumously published by Tuttle and the Lee estate, is that it attempts to seamlessly weave this mass of material together into a coherent whole rather than letting the individual pieces, written over a range of years, stand on their own. Nor does it attempt to label what the original documentary sources of the various “chapters” actually were and how they fit into the larger body of Lee’s papers.

Obviously this is an annoyance for other historians working on Lee. And it is especially problematic when one realizes that a number of these essays were originally composed as papers for Lee’s classes at the University of Washington. While clearly bright and interested in philosophy (as well as its application to the martial arts) Lee is the sort of student who likely gave his teachers heart burn. As multiple other scholars (including John Little and James Bishop) have pointed out, Lee was guilty of plagiarizing a number of passages and key ideas throughout these essays.

In a few cases he simply borrowed text while dropping the quotes and footnotes, while in others he followed his sources much too closely (a problem known as “patchwriting”). In a number of other cases he appropriates ideas or insights without proper citation, or plays fast and loose with his sources. For a student of philosophy a surprising number of very detailed arguments are simply attributed to “Taoism” with no further support.

Worst of all, some of Lee’s best known personal stories, such as his exchange with his teacher Ip Man about the problem of relaxation, turn out to have been lifted from other sources (in that particular case the important popularizer of Zen, Allen Watts who had a striking similar exchange with his Judo teacher). James Bishop seems to be the best source currently available on the extent of Lee’s plagiarism and the sources that he was actually drawing on. Of course Lee never intended that these essays be published, let alone to be printed on t-shirts.

Given this list of problems and cautions, one might wonder why I would even discuss such a book. Simply put, the Tao of Gung Fu is a critical work not because the material in it is in any way original, but because it does a great job of clarifying the issues that were being discussed among a certain type of Chinese martial artist at a specific moment in time, and the sorts of sources that they had available to them (both in terms of technical manuals, but also cultural and philosophical resources) to make sense of all of it. While fans might be crushed by some of the instances of Lee’s patchwriting and plagiarism (which varied from unintentional to egregious) the transparent nature of these problems is actually a great blessing to cultural historians and students of martial arts studies.

Lee often starts by outlining questions that a wide variety of readers in his era would have found interesting, and with only a few minutes of googling you can figure out exactly what resources a young, somewhat educated martial artist would have had access to in both the Chinese and English language literatures. In short, for anyone interested in the specific steps by which the Chinese martial arts were culturally appropriated by the West, this book is a remarkable resource.

If you want to better acquaint yourself with the sources of Lee’s philosophy on the martial arts, this is the book that I would recommend. And for Wing Chun students it has the additional bonus of providing critical insight into how (at least some) individuals were discussing that system during the late 1950s and 1960s.

What then is the ultimate root of Lee’s philosophy of the martial arts? What ideas did he turn to in order to both make sense of these fighting traditions and to provide them with increased social meaning (and status) against the backdrop of Chinese culture and thought?

The Tao of Gung Fu provides an embarrassment of riches on these sorts of questions. Students of Wing Chun will likely find Lee’s discussions of Chi Sao (some of which is quite philosophical) to be the most interesting. And readers of history will no doubt want to pay close attention to Lee’s understanding of the subject as discussed in the book’s closing chapters.

Yet perhaps one of the most important themes in Lee’s thinking is set down in the very first chapter before being expanded upon throughout the rest of the manuscript. Here we see Lee outlining a three step process (one that he attributes to Daoism) in which something progresses from 1) the “primitive” stage 2) the stage of “art” 3) the stage of “artlessness.”

Most often this progression is applied to the martial arts themselves. Lee sees in this pattern the meta-history of the Chinese martial arts as a whole. They progressed from a simple, but natural, system to a more sophisticated but stultifying understanding. Finally, after years of hard work Chinese martial artists practiced, experimented and realized what non-essential material could be stripped away, leaving a set of systems what was both sophisticated but once again natural in its execution.

In other places Lee appears to apply this same process to the life history of individual styles. It can also be viewed as the stages that any given martial artist must progress through. In fact, Lee’s iconic “Liberate Yourself from Classical Karate” article is premised on this idea, as well as Lee’s contention that most Western martial artists at the time were stuck in stage two.

Yet Lee’s use of this basic framework extended far beyond the martial arts. At times he seems to have seen it as a more general lens by which we could examine the struggle of humans with both the natural and social worlds. Note for instance that Lee attempts to explain this teleology to his readers by using it as an explanation of the evolution of Chinese grammar between the classical and modern periods. And grasping its logic seems to be a precondition for the introduction of his later discussion of the nature of Yin and Yang in both the martial arts and Asian philosophy.

Given the centrality of this idea to Lee’s thought, it might be useful to ask where it originates. Lee himself claims that the idea is indigenous to Daoism and, at other points, Zen. This later claim may be bolstered by the observation of some Japanese stylists that their own systems suggest a similar progressive understanding of katas (or forms) in three progressive stages.

At the same time it must be remembered that Lee was a philosophy student when much of this material was written, and the resonances with some of the western thinkers he would have been introduced to is noteworthy. The system Lee is proposing seems to be somewhat in debt to Hegel and his progression from “thesis,” to “anti-thesis” and ultimately “synthesis.” We have already seen that Lee was very familiar with the works of Allen Watts, and its possible that this idea may have found its genesis in his writings. Indeed, this might be why Lee sometimes claims that he was outlining a “Zen” theory of progress.

While I suspect that this element of Lee’s thought reflects his study of Western writers and sources, once established it is the sort of thing that you can begin to see everywhere. We know, for instance, that Lee was influenced by the ideas of the mystic and writer Krishnamurti. While I have yet to find an exact statement of this idea in his writings, once it has been established in your mind it’s the sort of thing that will find easy parallels and support in some of Krishnamurti’s statements. Much the same goes for the Dao De Jing. I suspect that this theory of “becoming” struck Lee with such force, and became a cornerstone of his thought in this period, precisely because it seemed to find support in so many sources. The ease with which both Eastern and Western (and possibly even Marxist) sources could be used to illustrate aspects of this theory must have made it seem both universal and self-evident.

I suspect that this idea was also critical to Lee because while it facilitated a rejection of stultifying forms, it also argued that these things could only be overcome through study, experimentation and exhaustive practice. When we look at Lee’s workouts in this period (also provided by John Little) we see that Lee was drilling himself in basic techniques at the same time that he was advocating empirical verification and freedom from pointless tradition. There has always appeared to be a fundamental tension here, between what is necessary to learn a technique, and the desire to transcend it in the search of something more natural or personal. This three step teleology spoke directly to that dilemma, and claimed that the way forward was not a return to a primitive state that rejected scientific advances, but rather through a long and arduous process of additional practice, refinement and (most importantly) experimentation.

Bruce Lee sketching on the set for Game of Death. Photograph: Bruce Lee Estate. Source: The Guardian.
Bruce Lee sketching on the set for Game of Death. Photograph: Bruce Lee Estate. Source: The Guardian.

 

Conclusion: Walking On

While interesting on a technical level, its also important to think about the social implications of all of this. The claim that the only true knowledge which is possible is self-knowledge, gained through extensive practice and experimentation, is most likely to be attractive to individuals who feel themselves to be alienated from other sources of social power or meaning. Indeed, the basic ideas about self-actualization that Lee draws on have their origins in China’s martial arts sub-cultures which often acted as an alternate means of self-creation for marginal individuals within Chinese society.

As I have argued at length elsewhere, this would have been the context in which Lee first saw the martial arts being taught in Ip Man’s school to a generation of often angry, surprisingly alienated, young men in the Hong Kong of the 1950s. Lee’s contribution was to take this basic pattern and to combine it with the philosophical and counterculture currents of his own day in such a way that westerners could access this same technology of self-creation.

The 1970s, when the Chinese martial arts first exploded into popular consciousness, was a volatile decade. Globalization in trade markets was causing economic pain and increased income inequality at home at the same time that some western nations faced both security challenges and open conflict abroad. Nor did the gains of the civil rights movement in the US ensure the spread of racial harmony. Everywhere one looked traditional social institutions seemed to be under attack and society was struggling to produce new ways of understanding and coping with these challenges. Given these structural factors, it is not surprising that Lee’s onscreen presence and martial arts philosophy (to the extent that it was known at the time) had a profound effect on a generation of seekers looking for a new set of tools in their quest for self-production.

In many respects we seem to be entering a similar era. Clearly the situation today is not identical. The Cold War is gone, and an information and service based economy has replaced the manufacturing one (at least in the West). Yet many of the more fundamental concerns remain the same. Economic insecurity, militarism abroad and social conflict at home are once again challenging basic notions of what our nations stand for. Levels of public trust in a wide range of institutions has reached an all time low, and social organizations that once supported vibrant communities in past eras are struggling to survive.

Indeed, many of these factors are directly challenging the economic health and social relevance of the traditional martial arts today. Yet where large schools might falter one wonder’s if we are not seeing a renewed opportunity for the expansion of Lee’s ethos of individual struggle, experimentation and practice. If nothing else the recent discussion of Daniel Wu by the advertisers at AMC could be seen as evidence that there is a hunger for the renewal (and expansion) of the sort of revolution that Lee originally introduced to the West in the 1970s.

As the needs of students and audiences change I fully expect that the ways in which we see Bruce Lee will continue to evolve. That is the sign of a healthy discourse, and it suggests that Lee might be just as important for understanding the current situation within the martial arts community as its mid-twentieth century history. Given the cultural moment that we now find ourselves in, Lee’s promise of self-creation and his basic philosophy seem more important than ever. And as long as his achievements continue to be the yardstick by which each new “revolution” in the martial arts is measured, it seems likely that the memory of the Little Dragon will indeed live to see its 100th Birthday.

 

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If you enjoyed this post you might also want to read: Two Encounters with Bruce Lee: Finding Reality in the Life of the Little Dragon

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Research Notes: Judo’s Triple Transformation in The China Press (1932)

“London Sees Thrills Of Japanese Sport.” A self-defense demonstration by a female martial artist, choreographed to as to be humorous for the audience. Vintage Newsreel. 1932.

 

Doing the Homework

Students of Martial Arts Studies are the fortunate few.  As research areas go, ours is pretty interesting. Yet as I review the literature (even recent publications from big name academic presses), it is clear that many of us are not making the most of our good fortune.  There seems to be a tendency to approach the literature in narrow slices and not to look for the sorts of insights that are frequently turned up in broader, more comparative, explorations.  The pie can be sliced in a variety of ways. Students of Japanese martial studies rarely deal with concepts and theories laid out in works on the Chinese styles. The literatures on combat sports and traditional arts often seem to run on parallel tracks.  And there is always room for a more substantive engagement between the theoretical and historical wings of the literature.

So here is my pre-Thanksgiving public service announcement: When offered pie, always eat more than one slice. Bringing multiple lens to an investigation leads to more insightful conclusions.  Beyond that, it makes the process of doing research richer and more intellectually fulfilling.

Still, we all have blind spots. As I was reviewing folders of research materials, it occurred to me that I may have created the mistaken impression that the English language treaty port newspapers in cities like Shanghai or Beijing only discussed Chinese fighting systems.  Over the last few years we have examined dozens of articles in which Chinese hand combat systems were presented to a global audience during the 1920s and 1930s. Doing so is helpful as it problematizes the often-heard trope that the Chinese martial arts were unknown to Westerners prior to the 1960s, or that everything about these arts has been shrouded in impenetrable secrecy. In fact, both KMT officers and private instructors worked (with mixed success) to publicize China’s reformed and modernized physical culture as a way of demonstrating to the world the reformed and modernized nature of the Chinese state.

Focusing on these conversations has been valuable.  Yet it must be remembered that all of this was only one aspect of a much larger exploration of the martial arts and combat sports which one could find in these same newspapers. While it is easy to focus only on the guoshu or taijiquan articles, in truth these pieces need to be read in conjunction with the frequent discussions of the Japanese martial arts, accounts of vaudeville style strongmen acts, and articles on western style boxing events which also appeared in the same pages.  It is all too easy to inadvertently create a siloed vision of cultural history in which boxing, kung fu and judo all existed in their own isolated spheres.  In truth they all competed for exposure within the pages of China’s treaty port press.

In an effort to correct this bias I would like to introduce one of the more interesting Republic era articles on the Japanese martial arts that I have come across. Judo is frequently mentioned in these pieces.  We can even find several glowing accounts of judo exhibitions in Shanghai in this era. Likewise, Chinese martial arts reformers often turned to judo as a symbolic foil for their rivalry with Japan. The following article, on the other hand, is interesting as the Japanese origins of judo have been almost totally erased.  Indeed, the Western appropriation of judo as a means of self-defense is so complete that the Japanese are barely mentioned, while cities like New York and Paris are looked to as centers of martial excellence.

Nor is this the only transformation which readers will detect.  While Kano Jigoro opened his practice to women fairly early, the vast majority of Japanese judo students in the 1930s were men.  Indeed, these were men often bound for service in the Japanese military. They had well developed ideas about cultivating a certain sort of masculinity which would be placed in the service of the state.  In contrast, the current article goes to great lengths to present judo as an exclusively female practice. More specifically, it was framed as a tool of urban self-defense and a bulwark against a new “masher” panic. The dojo as a training space, white uniforms, colored belts and other aspects of Kano’s now globally famous practice are totally missing from this discussion. Instead we find a slightly updated take on the pre-war American usage of “jiu-jitsu” to basically signify “dirty fighting.”

All of this is even more interesting as one suspects that these were not errors emerging from ignorance. By the early 1930s judo was a well-established practice in the West.  It had been featured in newsreels, books and extensively debated in the sporting press. Just to give us the proper perspective, the current article “introducing” judo was written more than 30 years after Theodore Roosevelt had famously promoted the same practice from his residence in the White House. Well educated Chinese and Western readers living in Shanghai (The China Press’core audience) had ample opportunities to see Japanese demonstration teams as they visited the city on a regular basis. Indeed, the Japanese invasions of Manchuria (1931) and Shanghai (1932) had sparked renewed public debate as to the role of physical education in a state’s battlefield success.

I suspect that this article never dropped Kano’s name, or mentioned black belts, as there was simply no need. All of that was already part of the public consciousness during the 1930s.  It instead focused on the topic of women’s self-defense as that was both timely (note the repeated references to Vivian Gordon’s murder in New York City), and front-page images of petite women throwing men around like rag dolls was sure to sell papers.

It is important to take note of a few other topics that are missing from this article as well.  To begin with, The China Presswas a pro-KMT newspaper with a liberal editorial line.  It ran more (glowing) stories about the guoshu, and China’s martial practices more generally, than any other Republican era paper that I have studied.  Its editors never missed an opportunity to note that China was the true home of jiu jitsu, or to publicize the latest Jingwu demonstration.  It is thus remarkable that there is no mention of the Chinese martial arts anywhere in this piece.

While the photographs and writing style suggests that this may have originally been a newswire article intended for an American audience, I doubt that this is the entire story.  Given the levels of outrage directed at the Japanese in 1931 and 1932, it probably would have been impossible to run an article that lauded any practice with Japanese roots in such a “patriotic” paper. Yet by completely erasing Japanese culture and martial values from the discussion of judo, effectively transforming the art into a primarily female, and Western practice, the editors may have gotten the best of all possible worlds.  On the one hand they could run a sensational front-page article that would sell lots of papers.  At the same time, they could appropriate an important marker of Japanese masculinity and militarism, presenting it as a cosmopolitan and almost exclusively feminine practice. One can only guess how thrilled the Japanese military officers and government staff in Shanghai were to see this treatment of their national art.

Still, this was by no means a negative portrayal of the art.  One of the things that struck me as I read this piece was the extensive “how to” section at the end.  Such discussions are so common in Western martial arts conversations that they are easy to dismiss. Yet they were quite rare in the pages of China’s English language treaty port press.

While these papers ran hundreds of articles on the Chinese martial arts, I don’t think I have once seen them undertake a detailed discussion about a specific Chinese technique. Instead demonstrations or systems were discussed in general terms for the edification of the reader, but not their education. While there was some training of foreign students in martial arts classes in China in the 1930s, buy in large this didn’t seem to be something that many people (either Western or Chinese) were interested in. Yet this article clearly suggests that judo is something Western women can (and should) learn.  That seems to be a frank admission that while Chu Minyi and other reformers had hoped to make the Chinese martial arts a modern and cosmopolitan practice, it was Japan that had actually succeeded. Nevertheless, we as readers are left to ask if the following vision of judo remains in any way Japanese?

 

 

Here’s “Judo”, the Newest Art of Self-Defense Against Mashers

The China Press, Feb, 3 1932. Page A1

 

Curious Details of the Smashing Surpise Receptions American and English Girls are Planning for “Catch-as-Catch-Can” Masculine Admirers.

 

“Wreck the necker!”

This warlike cry has gone up on both sides of the Atlantic since judo, an improved version of Jiu Jitsu, was perfected recently. Jiu Jitsu has always been primarily a man’s sport but judo is for women only. It enables the frailest flower of femininity to throw and knock out a burly assailant with ease and dispatch.

Women’s judo clubs are being formed in New York and other American cities.  In England enthusiastic feminine exponents of the method of self-defense against the Mashers have formed a team that is touring France, Germany and other European countries, giving exhibitions of this tricky and fascinating new art of self-defense.

Slight pressure of the fingers applied at the right moment, combined with sudden twists of the body by a judo expert, often results in broken limbs for the assailant.  There is no question that if judo’s popularity continues to increase at its present rate the obnoxious masher species may soon entirely disappear. Certainly nothing yet devised discourages the male flirt so quickly as a dislocated arm, or a broken head followed by several months in a jail or hospital.

Any close student of the subject will tell you how easily not only serious injury, but death, may come to the unwary roughneck who chooses to inflict his unwanted attentions upon a girl schooled in the far from gentle craft of judo.  A single lightening quick arm thrust from a girl who “knows her stuff” is sufficient in most cases to discourage any masher.  The young lady trained in Judo tactics may be outweighed by a hundred pounds and look as defenseless as a fawn but when she goes into action Mt. Necker had better run.

A famous Japanese wrestling champion once said that homicide committed by jiu jitsu provides “a lovely death, no pains from bullets, knives or violence, You just fade out in a pleasant dream—and don’t know that perhaps you will never wake again.”  The newly-perfected science of judo is equally effective in producing lethal effects although the physical instructors who teach it are careful to exclude the death dealing holds from their curriculum.

Unlike most forms of combat, judo’s effectiveness depends ironically enough on the strength and intensity of attack of one’s opponent.  The more powerful he is and or furiously he falls upon his intended victim, the more serious his injuries are going to be.

Certainly no more astonishing surprise could be imagined. Instead of screaming and shrieking the young woman who knows judo outdoes the masher at his own game.  With a minimum of effort, she can throw the strongest “he-man,” laugh at his efforts to embrace her and continue on her way, unmolested and at her leisure.

The underlying principal of this science is balance.  In judo it is vastly more important to control perfectly one’s posture than to have building muscles and enormous energy.  Japanese physical culturalists tell us that a “man without balance has no strength.”  This is particularly true in jiu jitsu and judo.  The very first thing the beginner learns is to change an opponent’s posture while maintaining her own. This is done by maneuvering him to his heels and toes, which enables one to throw him with little exertion.

As a typical example of the judo science, let us take a girl weighing about 110 pounds and say a husky 190 pound man has seized her throat in both hands. Now the ordinary young woman, unschooled in judo, would naturally concentrate her efforts on attempts to tear his hands from her throat.  The judo adept, however, would waste no time and strength on such a futile task.

Her technique, though simple, would be amazingly effective. Her first move would be to take a short step backwards with her left foot.  This will bring the attacker’s balance to his toes, naturally weakening his equilibrium.

Next, she would quickly swing her right arm sharply across his left arm, pivoting her right toe and bringing her right shoulder forward.  Her arm would pass close to her face until her right shoulder touches her chin.  In that position she would exert irresistible leverage on the man’s wrist with her shoulder.  This will break any grip, no matter how powerful, with the result that her assailant must fall slightly forward with face unguarded, leaving him a ready target for an elbow jolt to the face or a paralyzing cut on the back of the head.

If Vivian Gordon, the New York girl who was strangled to death in a taxi cab some time ago, had known such elementary judo moves she might have outwitted her slayer and escaped a gruesome fate.

The larger picture in the upper right half of the page shows a young woman swinging a husky male over her hip.  The uninformed may well ask how this slight girl could carry a powerful man off his feet and throw him to the ground.

The answer is judo and a perfect sense of timing and balance.  You will notice that the girl in the photograph is bending forward.  The man had come up behind her and seized her by the throat.  But she shot her head and shoulders sharply forward, throwing his weight on his toes and off balance.  Seizing his shoulders, she adroitly rolled him over her hips.  The picture was snapped just as she was about to throw him to the ground.

Perhaps you have seen one acrobat on the stage holding three or four partners on his shoulders.  Ordinary men cannot do this, of course, because they have not studied the science of balance and timing.  The acrobat has learned to distribute the weight of his companions evenly, to assume a posture that enables him to lift and hold an enormous number of pounds and to time his efforts so that his powers are never overtaxed. Strength is vital, but alone it is not enough.  Until he has mastered these twin sciences his efforts at great weight-lifting will fail.

The same holds true of the judo students.  The two photographs in the half center of this page demonstrate the ease with which a judo expert can disarm and knock down a stick-wielding assailant.  In one picture you see her catching his arm just above the elbow.  Her judo instructors have taught her that holding an arm above the shoulder greatly weakens the arm’s powers of resistance.  Placing her knee behind his right leg she pushes his arm backwards until he is off balance.  With this accomplished, she finds sending him backwards over her extended knee is child’s play.

Another photo on this page illustrates another effective judo maneuver that can be used when the assailant comes up behind his intended victim and seizes her by the throat.  Instead of trying to wriggle from his strong grip, the girl merely grasps his elbows and bends quickly forward, catapulting him over her head and shoulders.  This is called the shoulder throw.

Brutal attackers often use the chancery hold, which consists of encircling the victim’s neck with one arm and battering her face with the other fist.  Judo teaches girls how to break easily this painful hold.  If the assailant has gripped her neck in his left arm and strikes her face with his right fist, she reaches quickly up his back and over his right shoulder with her right hand and places the inner edge of her finger under his nose, where there is an extraordinarily sensitive nerve center.  Pressing on this diagonally towards the back of the head will quickly cause the fellow to release his grip.

The next move is to extend the pressure backwards and downwards.  If at the same time the girl grips him under the knee, raising him upward and forward, the gentleman will soon be spilled upon the ground with much violence.

The photograph depicting the young woman jamming the heel of her hand against the man’s chin demonstrates the perfect counter offensive against the mashers who sieze women about the waist.  You can be sure when the roughneck caress is returned in this manner the likelihood of a repetition of the Casanova tactics is very small.

Possibly the most spectacular of the group of extraordinary photographs is the one which portrays the young woman lying on the ground and kicking her surprised assailant in the stomach.  In this case the girl has fallen backwards to the ground, pulling the man into a flying fall.  As she fell, she drew up her foot and, on reaching the ground, she sent him sprawling over her head with a powerful and well-directed kick to his abdomen.

This startling defense should only be employed by experts who have been adequately instructed in the science of relaxing. Like football coaches, the teachers of this new art and fascinating study teach their students to go limp when falling.  A limp body does not strike the ground with half the violence that a stiff one does.

When Benny Leonard was the world’s Lightweight Boxing Champion he often attributed much of his extraordinary punching powers to his knowledge of anatomy.  He exactly knew what spot to hit and consequently opponents crumpled up before what seemed likely fairly light punches.  A knowledge of anatomy is even more necessary to girl judo experts than it is to boxers.

The new judo vogue began by a woman who saw in it a chance to reduce the ever-growing number of fatalities and injuries suffered by girls attacked in lonely sections of towns and cities.  Certainly it equips young women with an excellent defense against the cave-man tactics of roughneck admirers.

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this article you might also want to read: Addiction, Wellness and Martial Arts

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Swords, Visuality and the Construction of China

Chinese soldier photographed by Harrison Forman. While part of a series of issues distributed in 1938 captions indicate that these images were probably taken in the early 1930s. Source: The Forman Collection in the University of Wisconsin Milwaukee Digital Archives.

 

Deciphering an Icon

Recently I came across a few of Harrison Forman’s wartime photos, probably taken in the early 1930s, but circulated to newspapers and (re)published in 1938.  While his photos of militia groups following the 8th Route Army (discussed here) remain less well known, these particular images have gained a quasi-iconic status. I suspect that they, and other similar images, helped to define popular Western notions of China’s struggle during the late 1930s. This also makes them of interest to students of Martial Arts Studies as they prominently feature swords and what appears to be a display of China’s traditional military culture.

Still, as I reviewed these photos I found myself wondering what was really going.  Were these images actually taken in the field?  Or were they composed by Forman himself?  And if latter, how were such images of martial masculinity meant to be read?  Why do so many of Forman’s photographs, as well as other images from the period, go to such great lengths juxtaposing the coexistence of “modern” military weapons with “traditional” martial culture, squeezing both elements into ever more complex symbolic frames?  Lastly, what does this suggest about the ways in which the Republic era revival of the martial arts was used to shape China’s image on the global stage?

To fully answer these questions, we may need to compare Forman’s photos to some less well-known images of Chinese soliders collected and distributed in the late Qing and early Republic period.  Doing so suggests the existence of certain key symbols which quickly gained a remarkable degree of stability in the popular imagination. Yet while the image of a Chinese soldier or martial artists holding an oversized blade has been stable, its social meaning has varied greatly. Many players, both within and outside of China, have deconstructed and contested these images. Controlling the visuality of the martial arts has been a key tool in a series of debates about the nature of the Chinese state and nation. A few of the ideas of the theorist Rey Chow may help to launch this investigation.

 

The Eternal Swordsman

Few images within the Chinese martial arts have proved more durable than the traditionally trained swordsman openly practicing his trade in the age of the gun. He can be seen everywhere, from Japanese postcards to Hong Kong kung fu films. But what sort of “person” is this individual?

Thomas Taylor Meadows, a British officer stationed in China during the Taiping Rebellion, was among the first to reflect on this question as he observed numerous skirmishes and battles.  In one section of his best-known work, The Chinese and Their Rebellions, he sought to rebut the commonly held Western beliefs that 1) all Chinese individuals have similar personalities 2) that as a group they are more cowardly than Europeans and shied away from combat.

In an attempt to negate both views he relates to his readers a curious incident of “War Dancing” (what we would term the performance of a solo martial arts set) in the middle of a fire fight which he observed as both rebel troops (who held the city) and imperial soldiers contested control of a graveyard outside of Shanghai. Meadows set the scene by describing the artillery and armaments of both sides. By this point in the war both parties were armed primarily with Western cannons, state of the art European made muskets and a surprising number of revolvers.  He described the order of battle as being similar to that seen in the Crimean War with heavy volleys of fire being exchanged between groups of soldiers who were either sheltered behind the city’s walls, or moving between “rifle pits” and the sorts of cover that the graveyard landscape afforded.  All of this was very similar to what one might have observed in a European conflict of the time.

Yet similar should never be confused with identical. While playing no part in the actual siege, Meadows notes that “cold weapons” were evident on the battlefield.  One Imperial spearman, having nothing to contribute to an exchange of gun fire, took shelter behind a building with Meadows and other Chinese onlookers.  Another soldier, armed with a sword and rattan shield, approached the battle differently.  He walked out into an open area (where a companion was firing a musket at rebel forces) and proceeded to demonstrate his sword set, all while shouting insults at the enemy, slashing at imaginary opponents and tumbling over his shield.

On a substantive level he contributed little to the battle.  Indeed, one suspects that most such skirmishes were actually decided by the artillery. Nor was this individual the lone exception.  Meadows told his story because he believed it would convey something about the nature of the conflict to his readers back in the UK.  Very similar reports were also lodged by British soldiers involved in the First and Second Opium Wars in Southern China, and much later by units participating in the costly march on Beijing during the Boxer Rebellion. It is an often overlooked fact that by 1900 the Imperial Chinese troops had weapons just as advanced as any of the Western nations that came to save the Legation.  Yet battlefield martial arts displays, usually attributed to “possessed Boxers,” remained fairly common. All of this seems to bear an uncanny resemblance to Forman’s much later photograph.

Accounts such as these are why so many Westerners became obsessed with the image of the sword wielding Chinese boxer, soldier or pirate. The basic image might be labeled in a variety of ways. Yet in each case it seems to have invoked the same combination of fascination and disgust. It would be more difficult to think of a better example of Rey Chow’s critique of “visualism,” in which modernity functions by reducing people or ideas into two dimensional depictions, than the early 20th century explosion of photographs of Chinese men wielding swords.

Such images facilitated the mental, and then political, classification of China, justifying its imperial occupation. A close reading suggests that many of these classifications rest on seeming contradictions. While focusing on men, their subjects are emasculated through an association with obsolete technology, poverty or backwards superstitions.  Chinese territory is potentially dangerous, yet in need of Western protection and guidance.  And when modern weapons occur in an image, rather than focusing our attention on the breakneck speed of social change, the existence of traditional tools subconsciously reinforces the notion that China is somehow eternal. A land without history can never change.  It is a country without a future.

 

Late Qing portrait of the Changtu Prefect and his personal guard. Photographer unknown (at least by me).

 

Such notions would likely have been projected onto this image by early 20thcentury Western viewers as well.  Once again, notice the prominent juxtaposition of modern (Western) weapons with their traditional (Chinese) counterparts.  Judging from the legible inscriptions in this photograph, Douglas Wile has concluded that it is a portrait of the Prefect of Changtu (now part of Liaoning Province) and his personal guard. Obviously, such an image would have been taken prior to the 1911 revolution.

At that time the long Mauser rifles with WWI era “roller-coaster” sights seen in this photo would have been state of the art.  And having a couple of guys with halberds standing at a door or gate would also have made a lot of sense. Yet one suspects that rather than a well-armed bodyguard, post-Boxer Rebellion viewers would likely have seen one more piece of evidence of a nation incapable of change.  In certain quarters such images (invoking fears of beheadings for minor offenses) were taken as powerful justifications for the preservation of Western legal privileges (such as extra-territoriality) and even colonial “guardianship.” The observation and dissemination of images of the “traditional” martial arts was often coopted by the forces of imperial discourse.  That is vital to remember as it strongly suggests that there was nothing inevitable about the reemergence of similar images in the post-WWII era as anchors of the post-colonial discourse. Bruce Lee probably would have played quite different to audiences in 1901.

The production and widespread dissemination of such images in the early 20thcentury opened Chinese society to conflicting social pressures. On the one hand there was immense pressure to “modernize,” making the nation equal to the Western powers. This would mean discarding much or all of China’s traditional culture.  Yet Chow has also warned her readers of another danger in these situations. As “ethnic” individuals in colonial situations grapple with the meaning of their identity, perhaps by trying to find domestic sources of pride or strength necessary to resist imperialism in their own autobiographies, they risk internalizing the dominant critique of their culture and performing an increasingly two dimensional act of what was once an authentic culture as they respond to a set of critiques that were likely based on (malicious) misunderstandings.

 

A vintage Japanese postcard showing images (likely taken in the late teens or twenties) of “Big Sword Units training their bravery.”

 

Perspective matters. And it is interesting to think about the role of both bodily experience and cultural expectations in shaping one’s perspective. Meadows wrote in an era when it was increasingly evident swords had little utility on the battlefield, but they were still very much part of Western 19thcentury military life. By the Republican era that had changed. The Japanese situation was more complicated.

Our next image was taken from a Japanese postcard, probably produced during the 1920s, which shows Chinese soldiers, dressed in smart civilian clothing, demonstrating their sword forms.  We have already read numerous accounts of demonstrations such as these (particularly those staged by General Ma), but it is interesting to see that Japanese publishers decided that there was an market for such an image at home.

The Japanese discourse towards China in the 1920s and 1930s was much more belligerent than anything seen in the West. One need not carefully analyze their literature or trade practices for hints of imperialist discourses. You only needed to watch where their armies marched or read their formal diplomatic declarations.  This is not to say that their popular culture was not of immense interest.  Japanese youth literature of the period tended to portray China as a land of adventure where adventurous boys could not just serve the nation, but prove their worth. And the increasing militancy of government mandated martial arts practice in Japanese schools helped to ensure that the nation’s youth would be prepared to do just that.

It goes without saying that within this internal nationalist discourse the sword (or more properly, the katana) meant something entirely different from what it signaled on the pages of the North China Herald or New York Times.  While a traditional symbol, it did not denote national backwardness.  Rather, it was a symbol of national identity.  And it became the vessel for much more positive cultural content.  It represented the notions of sacrifice, spiritual determination and individual physical strength placed in the service of the nation.  It represented that aspect of primoradial Japanese identity that both made it distinct, but also well suited for global competition among its national peers.

One byproduct of mandating years of state sponsored kendo or judo training was the creation of a large number of individuals who were bound to be at least somewhat curious about Chinese martial practice.  One suspects that the young men who collected these postcards may have been intrigued by images of solo-forms practice (rare in modern kendo), and the different sabers favored by the Chinese. Yet it is highly unlikely that such an image would have struck them as a symbol of national backwardness.  Indeed, the Chinese soldiers in this image were dressed much more “progressively,” and in a more Western manner, than Japanese Kendo students.

Such an image, while highlighting differences in national martial practices, likely would have suggested the existence of the sort of cultural affinities that supported the logic of Japan’s desired “co-prosperity” sphere.  Once again, images of the Chinese martial arts might be used to undermine notions of China’s national independence, but now for very different reasons. Rather than pointing to the backwardness of these practices, the Japanese could instead claim to be best positioned to promote their future development.

 

A second angle of Forman’s iconic photo, this time with an improved and more dynamic composition. Source: The Forman Collection at the University of Wisconsin Milwaukee library.

 

All of this may be part of the answer to our initial question.  Yet we still have not considered the evolving Chinese interpretation of this key image, or what they might gain from cooperating in its reproduction and global distribution.  The Japanese postcard is important as it suggests that such images did not actually undermine one’s claim to modernity, or legitimacy within the nation state system, in an absolute sense.  Even more important than the production of these images was how their interpretation was negotiated, destabilized, contested and claimed on the world stage. This was a project that an increasing number of Chinese reformers would turn their attention to in the 1920s and 30s, re-entering a space that had been largely dominated by outside voices since the Boxer Uprising.

Much like the Japanese architects of Budo, Chinese social reformers carefully searched their history and culture for the tools to resist imperialism.  Part salvage project, and part nation building exercise, such impulses had given rise to the “self-strengthen” movement in the late 19thcentury which saw in the martial arts strategies for resisting the West through “Yin power.” Later (in the 1920s and 30s) similar impulses would be promoted by the “national essence” and guoshu reformers.

Yet just as Chow warned, the harnessing of Yin power was first premised on the acceptance of often skewed externally inspired narratives of national weakness.  It is well worth remembering that it was Chinese journalists and intellectuals who harped on the image of “the sick man of Asia”, not their counterparts in New York or London. The promotion of China’s “traditional” martial arts seemed a ready-made cure for this self-imposed cultural syndrome.

Many of China’s more liberal reformers disagreed with these prescriptions.  Accepting that superstition and backwardness were at the root of China’s weakened state, the May 4th Reformers favored a much more enthusiastic embrace of Western social, economic and cultural institution.  They were inherently suspicious of attempts to save China’s future by reimagining what its past practices had been. The disastrous events of the Boxer Uprising were still too fresh in their minds to embrace Jingwu’s (or later guoshu’s) promises of a modernized and reformed martial art placed at the disposal of the nation. Chow’s work on the various strategies involved in the construction of “ethnic images” would seem to be a fruitful place to begin to untangle the debate between these two factions as to what role (if any) the martial arts should play in the creation of New China.

All of this suggests a new perspective from which to view Forman’s original photograph.  KMT officials and the guoshu reformers embraced the traditional martial arts because they saw in them a chance to disrupt Western expectations about Chinese society. Yes, domestic unity and nation building were their primary goals.  Yet the KMT constructed a public diplomacy campaign around guoshu (foreshadowing in significant ways the PRC’s current wushu strategy) because they perceived an opening to demonstrate-through staged spectacle and newspaper story-that China was in fact strong, courageous, and modern.  Better yet, it possessed a unique culture capable of making important contributions to global discussions.

It is interesting to read Forman’s photograph within the framework of that ongoing contest of ideas. The old and new are contrasted not just within the right and left side of the frame, but even within the two halves of the swordsman’s body.  In one hand he holds a dadao, China’s now iconic sword.  In the other we see Mauser 88 rifle (either a Chinese produced copy or an imported German model).  While it is often claimed that the dadao was issued only because the Chinese were too poor to produce modern rifles, this photo problematizes such statements.

While genetically descendent from the Mauser rifles carried by the private bodyguards seen above, it should be noted that these examples have been altered in significant ways.  The barrels are shorter, carbine length, conversions and the complex WWI era sights have been replaced with something simpler and lower profile.  In short, the Chinese small arms seen in this photo are more or less identical to the modified bolt action rifles then being issued by countries like Japan, Germany, the USSR and the UK.  Clearly this soldier does not cling to his dadao out of sheer necessity. In this photograph it serves another purpose.

The fact that this image exists in two forms (one with two soldiers, the other with three) confirms our initial suspicions that the composition is an artificial one arranged by Forman, rather than a spontaneous display of Chinese martial culture.  As such we must begin to consider how its creator meant for this image to be read by the public.

The University of Wisconsin Milwaukie archives (which holds the original version of this image) have also preserved three of the original captions that it was distributed with. Editors who bought the image through a newswire service were free to choose any of these when they ran the photo. Interestingly, each of captions reads slightly differently.  The first view is the most negative, placing the sword within the symbolic realm of backwardness and superstition.  In many ways it is a continuation of press traditions from the turn of the century.

Caption 1: “The ‘big sword man’ as the symbol of the warrior of traditional China.  He was brave, agile, and fought his enemy hand-to-hand. He lasted into the twentieth century, gradually accepting the rifle as a weapon for modern warfare.  The Japanese invasion of China in 1931 finally convinced the Chinese to discard the outmoded ‘big sword,’ even as a secondary weapon as here shown in the invasion of Manchuria.”

These observations notwithstanding, the dadao remained common throughout WWII. Produced in large numbers by innumerable small shops, they were issued both to second line militia units as well as to fully equipped professional troops who carried them as the Chinese answer to the Japanese Katana or the British/Indian/Nepalese Kukri (a topic near and dear to my own heart).  Given that American newspapers were full of headlines about China’s “big sword troops” in 1938, I am not sure how many editors would have decided to run this caption.

The second possibility reads as follows: “’The Spirit of Ancient China.’ Big Swordmen -great hand-to-hand fighters, in the old traditional manner – with a modernly equipped trooper of Chiang Kai-shek’s famed 88thDivision. (Photographed in North Station).”

This caption is interesting as it begins the process of presenting the dadao to the Western reader in a “spiritualized” fashion.  Yet it is still fit within the Western motif of romanticism for “vanishing China.” Regardless, it is difficult to accept that this individual is fully representative of that past as he too carries a rifle identical to that possessed by the “modernly equipped trooper.”

Finally, the third and most interesting caption reads: “The Spirit of Ancient China! – The fellow with the big sword.  In the crook of his arm is modern China – the trooper with the steel helmet and modern rifle. Together they oppose Japan.”

Here we begin to see what Forman may have intended with the curious composition of this photograph. Rather than invoking the historical memory of accounts like that by Meadows, his meaning was more symbolic.  One soldier, representing the national essence, spread a protective arm (holding a highly symbolic weapon) over the head of his comrade busily taking aim at an (imaginary) opponent.  This photography was never intended to be a historical, let alone an ethnographic, document.  Rather it was a symbolic argument about the relationship between the Chinese nation and the state.  In the great debate over the shape of “New China,” Forman was making clear his sympathies with the national essence position.

 

Soldiers demonstrating a dada set before a crowd celebrating the donation swords and helmets to the war effort.

 

Conclusion

This global rehabilitation of the Chinese sword in the Republic era suggest that the government’s “Kung Fu diplomacy” efforts paid off. Once a symbol of backwardness within an imperialist discourse, by 1938 it was at least possible to see a sword wielding soldier as a symbol of national strength. Of course Westerners were also fascinated with the Japanese katana, and that seems to have provided a mental map for bringing the dadao back into the political lexicon.

The fact that three possible captions were circulated with this iconic image is an important reminder that symbols are never self-interpreting.  Each image holds many possible meanings, some of which overlap, while others may even contradict.  While the Chinese swordsman has proved to be surprisingly resilient, his meaning has been far from stable.  Various political and social reformers (not to mention martial artists) have attempted to destabilize, contest and renegotiate this figure.  While the reproduction of “ethnic images” was conserved, the political implications that they have carried over the 20th century has varied drastically.

Likewise, the meaning, values and goals of the martial arts are not set in stone. While certain bodily techniques may be stable over a period of 100 years or more, their social function and meaning has changed.  They too have been subject to successive rounds of destabilization, negotiation and interpretation.  If surveyed over a period of one or two centuries, a wide variety of period practitioners would likely agree on the appearance of the Chinese martial arts, but would hotly debate their meaning or purpose.  Chow’s theories of ethnicity and visuality suggest some of the reasons why that would likely be the case.

 

oOo

If you enjoyed this essay you might also want to read: Yim Wing Chun and the “Primitive Passions” of Southern Kung Fu

oOo

 

The Last Shall be First: Finding Meaning in the Martial Arts

A foreign martial arts teacher practices at Wudang. Source:

 

 

Barnum’s Daughter

 

I was recently watching the news when I saw a brief segment on “the last” Japanese swordsmith.  The whole things is a little overwrought as there are lots of individuals making swords in Japan today, and (multiple) government offices in place to make sure that they will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. While alarmist, I am no longer surprised by this sort of rhetoric. For better or worse, it has become a defining feature of the modern martial arts and all of the other cultural practices that are associated with them. I usually just brush it off. Yet it can be jarring to those who have less experience with it.

By any metric Heather* is a pretty worldly individual.  A Hollywood veteran and longtime producer of reality TV shows (touching on everything from home improvement to dating contests), she could only be described as a modern daughter of P. T. Barnum. She can regale one with tales of writing room misbehavior or the wholesale fabrication of budget numbers on those home renovation shows that dominate the American dream.  She had recently “retired” and moved to Ithaca to take up a teaching position, and at the time of this conversation we lived in the same apartment complex.

Heather approached me on her bike as I was working through a new jian (double edged straight sword) set. “Hey, I didn’t know you were a martial artist!” she proclaimed. “That is what finally chased me out of TV.”  Asking for clarification it turned out that it was not actually Wudang Jian that had done her in.  Rather, she had been working on the project titled “The Last Samurai”* when she finally decided to retire.  I asked her to explain, which she did at length, finally concluding

“Look, I don’t know anything about the martial arts, but I know a racket when I see one. That guy wasn’t “the last Samurai.” What does it even mean to be a “Samurai” in Japan today? And God only knows how any of this could have been significant to the poor kids we dragged over there to meet him.”

After pausing to ruminate she continued, “That was how I knew it was time to get out.  Sure, the dating shows are all staged, and no one has yet pulled a dish out of the oven that actually looks like it does on the Food Network.  I could do all of that. But when it came to martial arts documentaries, it was a sign. I just knew I couldn’t do this anymore.  That’s when I knew it was time to do something real, and finally put my MFA to good use.”

I had never heard this part of Heather’s story before and stood there at an actual loss for words.  After a career spent fabricating the budgets of home improvement shows, it was martial arts mythmaking that finally brought down a jaded Hollywood producer.

 

A trip to any public park in China would seem to indicate that the average of traditional martial artists is increasing. At the same time these individuals may have a greater need for strong social networks and more resources to devote to finding them.

 

The Last Masters

 

As I reflected on the recent story of the “last” Japanese swordsmith (who, I suppose, is responsible for outfitting the aforementioned “last” Samurai) it occurred to me that that these were not just any random lineage myths or poorly researched newspaper articles.  Rather, they were widely shared stories that lamented or prophesized the end of the martial arts altogether.  Indeed, they have acquired the status of cultural touchstones. Both practicing martial artists and the mainstream media seem to relish stories promoting some teacher, or school, as either the first or (more commonly) the last of their kind.

All sorts of practices and institutions come to an end, and yet the media rarely remarks on their passing.  The martial arts are, if nothing else, survivors. While the end of the Chinese martial arts has been regularly prophesized since the end of the Ming Dynasty in the 17thcentury, they are still going strong. Given their frequently predicted demise, on some level I think it would be appropriate to conceptualize the Asian martial arts as a community that exists in a state of perpetual revival (understood in the Religious Studies sense of the word). Yet what makes the image of the end of Kung Fu, the last Viking or the final Samurai so appealing?  Where do these images get their emotional appeal, and why are they embraced with seemingly equal enthusiasm by those both within the traditional martial arts community and those who only know these practices through their mediatized image? As we unravel the puzzle of the perpetual demise of the martial arts, we may gain additional insight into the modern social functions which these practices perform.

 

Yang Style Taiji in Shanghai, 2005. The traditional Chinese martial arts are always forced to create a sheltered space within the larger community. Source: Wikimedia.

 

 

“Tradition” as Fetish in the Martial Arts

 

As we review the various historical essays within Kung Fu Tea’s archive, one might be forgiven for concluding that the Chinese martial arts are not so much a smoothly transmitted system as an assortment of stochastic discontinuities held together by the fervent belief that they ought to be (or at one point in the distant past were) a cohesive whole.  I find it useful to sit back and consider how much (or rather, how little) my Wing Chun training (a product of the 1950s) has in common with either the Dadao clubs of the 1930s, or the Red Spear village militias of the 1920s. These two distinct visions of the Chinese martial arts were among the largest social movements of their day. Collectively they trained and organized many millions of people.  And yet the Red Spear militias that once rules China’s northern plains seem to have had little impact on the surviving martial arts.  If this is true for huge social movements that existed less than 100 years ago, how much further removed is my understanding of the Chinese martial arts from one of Qi Jiguang’s Ming era soldiers, or an ancient scholar-warrior welding a bronze sword?

Nevertheless, the threads of culture provide continuity that bridges our personal, localized or purely internal, experience of reality. It is here, rather than in embodied practice, that scholars might start their search for a more stable understanding of the Chinese martial arts.  More specifically, it is within their long tradition of shared stories, literary references, venerated figures, imagined geographies and even values (though these do tend to shift from era to era) that Chinese martial culture finds (and contests) its central coherence.  It is within this most basic stratum that our search must begin.  And it is here that we first encounter the uniting fear of the “end” of martial practice.

Within a Confucian lineage system intergenerational transmission, whether genetic or social, is the great responsibility. Fathers must have sons to inherit the land, and in turn they must provide sacrifices to the ancestors. Knowledge, which existed in perfect clarity in the past, must be faithfully transmitted. The martial arts, understood as systems of military defense at both the local and imperial levels, was no exception.  Driven by the importance of the military examination system, archery manuals became one of the most successful genres of popular literature in the late imperial period. Likewise, the act of boxing is irreducibly social.  Neither teacher nor student can exist without the other.

It is thus interesting to note that within the very first stratum of existing Chinese martial arts manuals (16thcentury) we find authors like Qi Jiguang and Yu Dayou already concerned that the nation’s hand combat practices are in decline and in need of revival.  Cheng Zhongyou likewise undertook his important study of the Shaolin pole method both because he wanted to make it available to other members of the gentry seeking to train village militias, but also because he was worried that their “original” method would be lost in a deluge of second-rate imitators.  Already within the oldest stratum of printed (sometimes commercially distributed) works on the Chinese martial arts, we see a concern with their end.  This is truly remarkable as these same authors (and many other nameless instructors within their generation) were responsible for laying the foundation of the martial arts that we now enjoy today.

This basic complex of social values largely survived the transition to ideological nationalism, and market-based methods of transmission, during the late Qing and early Republic period.  In the period of “self-strengthening” (1860s-1890s) the entire nation was seen as under threat, and the martial arts came to be understood by some individuals as a way of preserving what was essential within Chinese society to resist the West. Thus fears about the disappearance of boxing could be mapped directly onto a larger historical dilemma. Likewise, Republic era reformers sought to place the traditional martial arts at the disposal of the nation building project, and (drawing on the Japanese example) saw within them the tools necessary to forge China into a single, modern, people.  When individuals foresaw or debated the end of boxing, they were at the same time ruminating on the nature of the modern Chinese state, its values, and relationship with society.

Yet such discussions still emerge with some frequency in the Western media and martial arts circles. And it goes without saying that the cultural values that underlay these discussions are quite different from traditional Confucianism’s concerns with faithful transmission on the one hand, or the sorts of all-encompassing nationalisms that characterized the 1930s on the other. Is there a single theoretical lens which we might apply to the narrative of the vanishing Kung Fu master which both explains the popularity of the story today, while still (within reason) shedding some light on its previous manifestations?

Martial arts historians and social theorists alike would probably begin by pointing out that it is quite significant that the West encountered these hand combat systems during the great period of imperial expansion in the late 19thcentury, and then again during the era of the consolidation of the global financial order in the immediate aftermath of WWII.  This suggests that we cannot separate the social function of the martial arts from the emergence of late capitalism and modern consumer culture.

Indeed, modern capitalism plays the pivotal role in the post-WWII dissemination of the Asian martial arts.  It gave rise to a set of economic, social and personal insecurities which came to define Western culture, and then promised the delivery of goods, ideas and practices that could solve these same issues.  The first two of these issues are perhaps the easiest to understand. The rapid opening of markets to global trade flows always creates sets of winners and losers as the increased flows of new types of goods eliminate some jobs and threaten the fabric of traditional communities. While most individuals will be better off (in the long run) as the national economy expands, they will now be forced to deal with the basic existential questions of life (who am I, what is my purpose) without the support of the types of traditional communities and institutions that sought to provide those answers in the past.

The surplus of goods which modern capitalism facilitates seems to always be accompanied with a deficit in social meaning.  Increasingly individuals are left to their own devices to determine what makes them unique, which groups (if any) they are part of, and what larger purpose they are meant to fill. Unsurprisingly individuals seek to find meaning within the sorts of goods and experiences that they consume.  For instance, I might signal, and develop, a certain type of identity through the clothing that I wear, the type of car that I drive (or don’t drive), and the hobbies that I fill my free time with.

Yet in a world where everything can be purchased, and any individual with the same set of means might purchase a similar set of goods, how secure is such an identity? The perfectly interchangeable and anonymous nature of markets threatens the ability of these institutions to provide answers for the terrible existential questions of human existence that are always looming in the darkness.  One logical response to this is to remove certain goods from the universal marketplace, thus preserving their cultural power by providing a non-economic gateway to their use.  This strategy has been seen many times in history, but in the current era it seems to most closely approximate our current anxiety over cultural appropriation.

Several theorists have noted that we respond to the anxieties and threats of the modern consumer society by seeking something that exists beyond mere economic exchange with which to anchor identity.  Given their importance to the counter-culture movement of the 1950s-1970s, Asian philosophies, religions and modes of aesthetic expression were often adopted as strategies for resisting the commercialization and hollowing-out of Western life.  Chinese Daoism, Japanese film and, of course, the martial arts all exploded into the popular consciousness as a new generation sought to find a better set of values to anchor their lives in a rapidly changing post-War West.  Strictly speaking, none of these things were actually “new.” Most of these images and ideas had been available to Westerners since the 1920s.  The supply was already present.  It was the post-war reevaluation of modern life that provided an explosion of demand.

Nevertheless, one must think carefully about how individuals, from the late 1940s to the early 1960s, actually encountered these ideas and practices.  The old standby is to assert that Judo or Karate was popularized by vets returning from the occupation of Japan (or perhaps a stint in Taiwan). There is certainly some truth in this statement.  And yet most of the vets who took up martial arts in the 1960s had never been stationed in Okinawa, Japan or Taiwan.  Some key individuals and future tastemakers had.  Don Draeger and R. W. Smith are both important examples of how a certain vision of the Asian martial arts was exported to the West.

Yet the vast majority of individuals who followed in their virtual footsteps had neither the life experience or financial means to travel East and South East Asia, documenting the martial arts.  Some may have encountered aspects of these systems as “dirty fighting” in boot camp. Yet for the most part they came to Judo, Karate and later the Chinese martial arts through newspaper and magazine articles, TV specials and commercial transactions carried out in strip mall dojos dotting the American post-war landscape.

The central paradox of consumer culture is now laid bare.  It promises to sell us goods, ideas and practices that can substitute for the loss of older types of community.  Yet the very fact that such goods can be purchased by anyone leads us to question their authenticity and efficaciousness. If personal-transformation and escape from the woes of late capitalism can really be purchased for $60 a month, and I hand over my $60, what exactly have I escaped?

Once we have reached this point a variety of thinkers, from Slavoj Zizek to Jean Baurdrillard, could be invoked to help. Zizek’s work on “Western Buddhism” is in many ways particularly relevant here.  But I would like to turn to a different source as it brings the discussion back to the frequent appearance of the words “last” and “first” in our discussions of the martial arts.  Specifically, Amanda Fernbach’s 2002 Fantasies of Fetishism: From Decadence to the Post-Human (Rutgers UP) deserves consideration.

Specifically, the logic of Fernbach’s argument suggests that procumers (consumers who simultaneously produce Western martial arts culture through their participation in these systems) seek to solve the essential dilemma of counter-culture consumerism by reformulating their practice as a type of fetish.  While the martial arts will continue to be distributed through a competitive marketplace this move relieves the latent anxiety about the authenticity of these goods. Specifically, discourses focusing on the origins or ending of an art serve to form a relationship between the practice and its students in which the now fetishized art becomes a powerful tool of its own marketing as well as a symbol of its own legitimacy.

Fernbach notes that the origins of the notion of “fetish” seems to lie in the colonial trade that occurred between Portugal and West Africa.  Fetish goods were spiritually powerful, culturally defined, objects which could not be traded.  Their exchange lay outside of normal economic channels, and they were believed to have a transformative effect on individuals or communities.  Given our attempt to apply all of this to a discussion of the martial arts in the early and mid-twentieth century, it is important to note that the core concept of the fetish really derives from imperialist discourse and denotes an area that is somehow insulated from socially corrosive market forces.

This notion (focusing on the object which resisted exchange) would go on to inform the basic anthropological definition of the fetish which saw them as otherwise mundane objects thought to be endowed with tremendous spiritual powers (often used in worship). More specifically, they could grant great strength or ability to someone with the proper knowledge of their use. Freud took this basic notion and instead focused on the absence, or the fear, that might cause one to seek out a fetish in the first place.  Fernbach finds his treatment of the concept wanting in a number of respects.

Karl Marx, on the other hand, found modern fetish goods within the Western economic marketplace. Here the good most certainly exchanges hands through trade.  Yet some aspect of its value (perhaps its prestige, or ability to act as a status symbol) might outstrip its actual utilitarian worth.  The fetish is thus a second good, encoded in the value of the first, which we might purchase within a marketplace.

Each of these definitions of the fetish are related to the others. Yet the original notion of an area (seemingly) protected from the corrosive effects of trade seems most relevant to what we see-or seek-in modern martial arts.  Still, Freud’s very different take on the problem reminds us that what is often most important in understanding human behavior is the fear of the thing that is lacking.

Nor is the Marxist interpretation without some merit. As with any good in the marketplace, one must increase the demand for your product through advertising. Creating discourses that fetishize aspects of the martial arts communicates to consumers that they will receive value that goes above and beyond the simple instruction that we are outwardly paying for. For instance, when I put my child in a Taekwondo class she doesn’t just learn the basic kicks and punches that I am paying for.  Undoubtably there will be a brochure in the school’s lobby informing me that she will also gain “self-confidence,” “discipline” and the ability to “work with others.” These are all core social values and a good example of the Marxist theory in action.

Still, I suspect that there is a more primal layer of myth creation that underlies all of this, one better explored through the older anthropological understanding of the fetish. As adult consumers look for a tool of self-actualization, guided perhaps by latent Orientalist notions about a “purer” East, they build a belt of protective fetish fantasies around the martial arts precisely to “save them” from the taint of the mundane. Perhaps the easiest of these fantasies to construct (and hence the most widespread) is that of origins and endings.

Such stories effectively sperate the martial arts from the world of endlessly repeatable consumer consumption by positing the existence of temporal discontinuity.  It is time itself (or what Eliade might have called “sacred time”) that places the martial arts beyond the reach of “mere consumerism,” but not actual consumers. That which has vanished from the world can no longer be sold, even if I feel that I can access some aspect of this shared sacred past in my weekly Kung Fu classes.  To be on the verge of disappearance is to also to be on the verge of having the sort of cultural surplus that we always bequeath of the long lost masters.  To be the “last master” is to be remembered. At least in our more romantic imagination. One suspects that in real life practices vanish precisely because no one cares to remember them at all.

Likewise, something on the verge of extinction is also a candidate for revival. Ip Man became the “grandmaster” not because he was the first, or the best, Wing Chun practitioner. Rather, he was venerated by generations of students in Hong Kong and the West for “saving the art” from extinction. Whether that was actually the case is a topic for another day. But I don’t think that anyone doubts that Ip Man has come to be seen as an epochal figure in the Southern Chinese martial arts that the “generation” of most modern Wing Chun students is now counted from.  His career is interesting precisely because it illustrates how closely linked the death and rebirth of an embodied identity can be, not just in historical practice but also in the stories that we come to tell.

 

 

Taijiquan teacher and students in a park. Source: http://english.cntv.cn

 

 

Conclusion

 

To be a member of the last (or first) generation of an art is find a place in history that appears to be beyond the whim of market forces. As witness to historical events it is hoped that one gains a sense of identity and purpose.  Indeed, one may even wish for a bit of immortality.  Given the universal appeal of these outcomes it is perhaps not surprising that media markets, in both the China, Japan and the West, have fetishized the imminent death of the martial arts. This often functions as a democratizing move. Lamenting their passing, or attempting to spark their revival, have become critical modes by which countless students experience these practices.  And many more media consumers are exposed to the same feelings (often in a more nationalistic or cultural guise) as they consume news stories about the disappearance of these once great cultural artifacts. When these fetishes are exposed (throwing us back into the “desert of the real”), the result can be the sort of destructive feeling of disillusionment that Heather experienced upon actually coming face to face with Japan’s “last Samurai.”

Any student of martial arts history can illustrate, in great detail, that we are not the first generation to read premature obituaries of Kung Fu’s passing.  Nor, through the simple process of extrapolation, are we likely to be the last. Yet when examined through the lens of Fernbach’s theory of the fetish it quickly, becomes apparent that the sorts of popular narratives that we tell about the death and rebirth of the martial arts are very important. The process of fetishization which she outlines (and is particularly amenable to the study of physical or embodied practices) suggests not just a mechanism by which these practices yield real transformative influence on the individual level, but also suggests much about the social ills that they seek to respond to. A theoretically informed examination of the martial arts suggests much about the terrain that lays behind us, and what we might yet become.

 

*All names and program titles have been changed to protect the innocents.

 

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If you enjoyed this discussion you might also want to read: Bruce Lee: Memory, Philosophy and the Tao of Gung Fu

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Of Pens and Swords: Jin Yong’s Journey

In recent years Louis Cha’s novels have become subjects for comic book artists.

 

 

The Loss of Heroes

The Chinese martial arts community has lost two giants.  The death of Rey Chow (who was instrumental in jumpstarting Bruce Lee’s martial arts films) and Louis Cha (who wrote under the name Jin Yong) comes as a double blow. Granted, neither man is remembered primarily as a practitioner of the martial arts.  Yet as story tellers they had a huge impact on the development of the shared web of signs, meanings and desires that would shape the development of the Chinese martial art community from roughly the 1950s until the present. As scholars we need to pay close attention to this cultural web as it is the software that structures the human experience.  While not strictly determinative, none of us will strive to accomplish that which we cannot imagine.

Both of these figures are deserving of an essay. Yet at the moment I find myself drawn to reflect on Cha. His stature as a literary figure, and frequent forays into modern Chinese politics (both from the editorial page and his service on various governmental committees) are fascinating in their own right. Yet I will admit to having some ambivalence regarding the cultural impact of his novels. To put the question simply, I find myself wondering what Hong Kong’s martial culture would look like today had “Jin Yong” accepted a newspaper job in Taipie in 1947 rather than Hong Kong.

Simply asking such a question smacks of heresy. In many ways Loius Cha is synonymous with Hong Kong, his adopted home. He was the co-founder, and long-time editor, of the Ming Pao daily, a major publication. While Cha is still remembered for his blistering anti-Beijing editorials during the Cultural Revolution, he became the first (non-Communist) Hong Kong resident to meet with Deng Xioping as he sought to steer China on a more open path.  And with over 100 million copies sold (not counting untold pirate editions), as well as derivative films, TV programs, radio dramas, comic books and video games too numerous to count, Cha’s novels are quite possibly Hong Kong’s most important cultural export within the Chinese cultural zone. Yet his impact on the Southern Chinese martial arts has been complex.

Perhaps the best way forward would be to review the contours of a remarkable career as we ask how it was that Cha, and a generation of immigrants like him, came to call Hong Kong home.  This may suggest something about Cha’s impact on the development of Southern Chinese martial culture in the post-1949 era, as well as the continuing echoes and reverberations of his legacy today.

I should state for the record that I do not claim to be an expert in the analysis, or criticism, of Cha’s work, and have only read a few of his in novels in translation. I am sure that there are others who are better qualified to write an essay such as this.  Nor is that admission an artifact of false modesty.  The immense popularity of Cha’s novels have actually sparked the creation of an entire academic subfield (some of which even appears in English) dedicated to the study of his legacy. Still, his influence on the world of actual Chinese martial arts practitioners has been so great that I cannot leave his passing in silence. The complexity of his relationship with this community seems to stretch far beyond the platitudes that we encounter in his many newspaper obituaries.

 

 

Jin Fong reviewing a copy of his own work. Source: BBC

 

 

Making a Hero

Like so many others, Cha first arrived in Hong Kong as a way station as he was headed somewhere else. He was born as Zha Liangyong in 1924 in Zhejiang province.  His family had deep, multigenerational, scholarly credentials and it was only natural that Liang would also find a career in literature. But his pathway was far from straight. He exhibited his trademark penchant for fiery political rhetoric as a youth and was expelled from high school in 1941 after publicly denouncing the KMT’s government as “aristocratic”.  Indeed, he would continue to identify himself as “anti-feudal” and “liberal” throughout his life.

After graduating from (a different) high school in 1943, Cha was accepted at the Department of Foreign Languages at the Central University of Chongqing.  His initial plan was to become a foreign service officer or diplomat.  However, he quickly dropped out of this program, and applied to study international law at Soochow University.

To help finance his studies Cha took a job in journalism with a major British owned paper. Fortuitously his company transferred him to the Hong Kong office in 1947. Things did not go well for all of Cha’s family who stayed behind after the Communist takeover in 1949.  His father was arrested as a counterrevolutionary and executed in the early 1950s. Critics, like John Christopher Hamm (who has written one of the best English language studies of Cha’s work), note that his early novels are marked with a profound awareness of the plight of exile, alienation and loss.  Like so many others who had come to Hong Kong for business or work, it quickly became apparent that there was no going home. Cha would be forced to build a new life in a largely Cantonese city under British colonial rule.

In the early 1950s Cha befriended Chen Wentong, a fellow journalist, who worked at the same paper.  He encouraged Cha’s interest in writing and in 1955 (writing under the pseudonym Jin Yong) he began to produce the first of the serialized wuxia novels that would make him famous.  In English this story’s title is typically rendered The Book and the Sword.

In 1959 Cha and his high school classmate, Shen Baoxin, established the Ming Pao daily newspaper with Cha serving as editor. The small paper started off as a home for “Jin Yong’s” increasingly popular novels, but it has since grown to be on the largest Chinese daily papers.  In its first two decades Cha was responsible for writing not just the serialized novels but also the daily editorials and many small features.  It is reported that at times he was publishing more than 10,000 characters a day.

In total Cha produced 14 novels and a single short story under the Jin Yong pseudonym. Then, in 1972, he retired and announced that he would concentrate on consolidating and editing his already extensive literary legacy.  This was a complex undertaking as these novels had first appeared as serialized newspaper columns, which operated under their own set of literary conventions. In 1979 Cha released the first “complete and definitive” set of novels, many of which had been streamlined or slightly reworked in the editorial process.

The 1970s-1990s were a period of increased political activity in Cha’s life. He had always maintained an interest in politics (often understood through a more traditional Chinese cultural lens focusing on “the national interest”). Initially this led Cha to make many enemies on the left when he forcefully denounced the Cultural Revolution. Still, his reputation as someone capable of bringing together complex competing perspectives led to an invitation to meet with Deng Xiaoping and his subsequent appointment to the committee drafting Hong Kong’s Basic Law.  Cha resigned that position in 1989 in protest over the Tiananmen Square Incident. Yet in 1996 he was once again working on the important Preparatory Committee, prior to the 1997 handover.

Not content to rest on his literary or political laurels, Cha pursued his lifelong fascination with Chinese history by pursuing a Doctorate in Oriental Studies at Cambridge University.  His degree was awarded in 2010 when he deposited his dissertation focusing on imperial succession in the early Tang dynasty.  Cha remained an important public figure throughout his life and his works have remained popular. A highly publicized English language version of his Condor Heroes series released its first installment in 2018. Cha died on October 30th2018, at 94, after a long period of illness.

 

A recent English language translation of one of Louis Cha’s classic Wuxia novels.

 

 

Contextualizing a Life

John Christopher Hamm has argued that it is impossible to understand Jin Yong’s meaning or social significance without thinking very carefully about the environment that this literary phenomenon emerged in.  Hong Kong’s newspapers were already well acquainted with the notion of serialized martial arts novels well before Cha’s arrival in the city.  Indeed, the region had a rich, well-established, tradition of Kung Fu novels stretching back through the 19th century.  Many of these were firmly rooted in Cantonese colloquialisms and local heroic figures.  While one must be careful not to draw what were always shifting social borders too strictly, these stories typically appealed to the transient workers and merchants who came to Hong Kong to do business before returning (either at the end of a season or a career) to some other location in the Pearl River delta.

With the national upheavals of the late 1930s and 1940s, the city’s complexion began to change quite rapidly. Increasing numbers of displaced persons made their way to Hong Kong in an effort to escape the turmoil elsewhere in China. Since these Northern immigrants had the means to travel, they were often better off financially and more educated than much of the local population. Following the 1949 liberation of China by the Communist Party, they streamed in, effectively overwhelming the Guangdong culture that had dominated Hong Kong since its inceptions. It is interesting to note, parenthetically, that Ip Man and Louis Cha arrived in the city within a year and a half of each other, though they represented different cultural currents.

Like Cha these individuals slowly came to the realization that the 1949 crisis was not a limited event like the others that had marked China’s tumultuous 20thcentury. Rather than a temporary haven, Hong Kong had become their home for the imaginable future.  Cultural clashes were common.  Local Cantonese residents referred to these newcomers as “outlanders.”  For their part the Northern refugees tended to see Hong Kong as a cultural wasteland. Cantonese culture was dismissed as backwards and new radio stations, theater groups and even newspapers quickly sprang up to cater to these northern “outlanders” who brought their own ideas about what modern Chinese life should be.

The Ming Pao daily was one of these institutions. And as Hamm notes, Jin Yong’s novels were a clear departure from the local kung fu tales that had previously dominated Hong Kong story telling. Acutely self-aware, his stories focused not on local heroes, but epic tales of contests for control of the Central Plains during periods of foreign occupation. When the heroes suffered their inevitable defeats, they retreated to the fringes of the empires and went into exile, just as Jin Yong’s readers had.

This is not to say that Jin Yong’s work didn’t have immense appeal, or that it was incapable of reaching a cross-over audience. As so many writers have recently noted, his novels have proved to be culturally enduring precisely because they speak to individuals across the geographic, ideological and economic lines that have traditionally divided the Chinese cultural area. They have managed to do so in large part by advancing an appealing, nuanced, vision of Chinese nationalism.  Self-determination and cultural identity seem to rest at the heart of Cha’s understanding of patriotism.  And in his later works he goes to lengths to praise China’s many ethnic minorities (particularly the ones that have contributed to its martial arts traditions) advancing a more open and liberal vision of what Chinese nationalism might be.

All of this is combined with a reverence for traditional Confucian values, particularly when they order the relationship between teachers and students, family members or leaders and followers.  Yet the feudal past, in which all of his stories are set, is not accepted uncritically.  Cha remained deeply suspicious of the feudal and aristocratic, and so his characters can be seen to wrestle with, and critically examine, practices that no longer work in the “modern” world of the 14thor 15thcenturies.

A lack of Cantonese colloquialisms notwithstanding, these themes were likely to have a broad appeal within Hong Kong society. Cha made sophisticated discussions about identity, belonging and the nation available to those with a variety of educational and cultural backgrounds.  Yet these stories always originated from a specific place, or point of view. Nor can one help but wonder what other vision of martial arts culture they displaced, or pushed to the margins, as Jin Yong attained a sort of hegemonic dominance within the Wuxia genre.  In my own research I frequently run across accounts of martial arts students in the 1960s and 1970s who, while enthusiastic to learn the southern martial arts, carried with them different visions about the values or identities that motivated these systems.  Generational conflict over such matters is not unique to this case. Though as I read one testimonial after another as to how critical Cha was to defining the world view of a generation of Southern martial artists, I cannot help but wonder what he displaced, and to what degree he helped to shape the disjointed expectations of the period.  Indeed, in my own account of Wing Chun’s history during the post-war era, Jing Yong’s novels are more likely to play the role of “loyal opposition” than protagonist.

 

Cha, second from left, in 1960, with the cast of the film “Return of the Condor Heroes.” Source: The New Yorker

 

The Journey North

The burgeoning hostility of local Hong Kong residents towards Northern visitors or residents is nothing new. It is easy to find recent newspaper articles and editorials referring to Northerners as “locusts” who sweep in to consume not just cheap goods, but increasingly the best real estate and jobs, pushing long-time residents ever further from the center. In the wake of his death some individuals openly wondered whether a figure like Cha could succeed today given the open hostility to immigrants.  The great irony, of course, is that the majority of Hong Kong’s “legitimate” residents today were once northern transplants themselves, and Cha’s stories helped their parents to negotiate an environment that was not always friendly, familiar or welcoming.

By becoming the quintessential Hong Kong storyteller (a lack of Cantonese roots notwithstanding) Cha is once again acting as a cultural bridge. Amidst all of the anxiety about the death of the Hong Kong film industry, and the future of the Southern Chinese martial arts (which are being priced out of the city by skyrocketing rents), it is easy to forget that in some ways the Cantonese martial arts heroes are now more popular than ever throughout the PRC.  Ip Man has become a household figure (and his art has exploded in popularity) not just because of his association with Bruce Lee. Rather, Wilson Ip’s 2008 film and its many successors have been key in spreading this bit of Southern culture throughout the mainland.

It has been noted (by myself and others) that the vision of Ip Man that these films conjure does not bear a close resemblance to the real life (and rather well documented) figure. In the place of the undeniably mercurial and modernist Ip Man, what do these films present?  A figure that in many ways splits the difference between the traditional Kung Fu genre and one of Cha’s stories.  Yes, the action is still gritty and “realistic” with minimal wire work.  But we now have a hero who exemplifies martial virtue, who demonstrates Confucian values in his relationships, who is a patriot who fights for China, and in defeat he retreats in exile to the edge of the empire. Does that sound familiar?

The flavor of these films is undeniably influenced by the Hong Kong tradition. Yet the mold that shapes the stories bears an uncanny resemblance to the ideal hero (a patriot who endures rather than wins) as laid out in Cha’s many novels.  Where as Ip Man and Louis Cha had once existed as contemporary historical figures, whose lives ran on parallel tracks, their legacies now interact in complex ways.  Rather than simply displacing the Pearl River Delta’s traditional Kung Fu narrative, Cha seems to have provided a pattern by which its heroes can travel North, testing their own fortunes in the Central Plains.

 

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If you enjoyed this essay you might also want to read:  Lives of Chinese Martial Artists (14): Ark Yuey Wong—Envisioning the Future of the Chinese Martial Arts

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