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Abstract： The paper provides a general reading of Li Bai’s 59 Gufeng （Ancient Airs） an important poetic genre which aimed at recapturing the poetic spirit of the past. My reading follows that of Paula M. Varsano a scholar of Li Bai （or Li Bo） who in her study on Li Bai’s poetry， Tracking the Banished Immortal provides a very thorough analysis of this genre. My reading focuses on the major topoi of the genre and， in particular， on the immortality topos and Li Bai’s relation to Tao Yuanming. In this respect， Li Bai’s Gufeng best characterizes his modernity.
Key words： Li Bai; Gufeng; Tao Yuanming; Paula M. Varsano; allegory; modernity
Author： Massimo Verdicchio is Emeritus Professor of Italian and Comparative Literature. He has written extensively on Dante， Petrarch， the philosophy of Benedetto Croce and European literature. He has also published on the poetry of Li Bai， Du Fu， Tao Yuanming and Li Shang-yin.
內容摘要：本文对李白的《古风五十九首》进行了解读，这一重要诗歌类型的目标就是重拾从前的诗歌精神。本文之中的解读沿袭了方葆珍相关研究之中的思路，作为一位专门研究李白的学者，在《追寻谪仙》这本专门研究李白诗歌的著作中，方葆珍对这一诗歌类型有十分详尽的论述。本文则主要聚焦于这一诗歌类型的主题，尤其是其中的永生主题，同时还讨论了李白同陶渊明的关系。就此而言，李白的《古风》是其现代性的最佳体现。
关键词：李白;《古风》;陶渊明;方葆珍;寓言;现代性
作者简介：马西莫·韦尔迪基奥，加拿大阿尔伯塔大学意大利文学和比较文学荣休教授，发表过大量关于但丁、彼特拉克、贝奈戴托·克罗齐和欧洲文学的论文，同时还对李白、杜甫、陶渊明和李商隐等人的诗歌有专门的研究。
Gufeng #1
How long since the “Elegantiae” were composed –
And， with my demise， who then shall carry on？
The airs of the kings， given over to withered creeping vines，
And the Warring States： overgrown with brambles and thorns.
……………………………………….
I am determined to condense and retell，
The brilliance [my writings] emit will illuminate a thousand springtimes.
Should an aspiring sage establish himself，
I will stop writing when the “unicorn is caught.”
（Li Bai， Gufeng #1） ①
Paula M. Varsano in her study of Li Bai， Tracking the Banished Immortal， raises the issue of the fifty-nine ancient-style poems and their “prominent and isolated position accorded to the Gufeng （Ancient Airs） grouped together in the second juan of the collection” （Varsano 141）. According to her， these poems hardly get the recognition they deserve with the exception of the above quoted poem which is “judged important less for its poetic quality than for its handy summary of what many readers take to be Li Bo’s own critical bent. It offers the only instance of extended overt literary criticism in his entire works” （Varsano 142）. While some critics believe that the Gufeng are not among Li Bai’s most successful poems， there are those who “celebrate these poems as the essence of all Li Bo’s work” （Varsano 142）. Especially those critics in the late Ming dynasty who bestowed upon these poems the status of “a kind of poetic signature” （Varsano 143）. Varsano poses the question of what defines this “signature.” She answers it by pointing out that the early editors qualified these poems as “articulations of intent： a mix of declarative statement， allusion， and allegory employed by the poet to convey the most urgent and profound feelings” （Varsano 143）. These poems evoke the process of natural， unpremeditated poetic creation encoded in the Shijing， and the Confucian allegorical exegesis， and “effectively identify the Gufeng as the purest embodiment of Li Bo’s fidelity to ancient authenticity” （Varsano 143）. They acknowledge that the Gufeng aspires to ancient “authenticity” but they also tend to gloss over the way Li Bai uses these ancient signs and his attitude towards them. However， Varsano disagrees. According to her Li Bai is neither continuing the poetics of the ancients nor parodying it. In her view， the Gufeng manifests， if not revives， “the ideal of ancientness through the representation of the poetic act in all its blatant repetitiveness” （Varsano 144）.
To disclaim any possibility that Li Bai meant to imitate the ancients， Varsano quotes Gufeng #35 where the poet raises the problem of literary imitation and takes his distance from it：
The homely girl imitated Xi Shi furrowing her brows，
Returned home and stunned neighbors all around.
The lad from Shouling lost his natural gait.
Convulsing with laughter the folk of Handan. （Varsano 147）
In her explanation Varsano points out that the “homely girl” lacks not only Xi Shi’s “innate and artless beauty” but lacks most of all “the heartsickness behind her frown.” The “homely girl” could imitate Xi Shi on the surface but not her inner self： her artless beauty and her heartsickness. She observes that： “this poor girl embodies the imitator who is not only unable to reproduce the desired effect， but incapable of perceiving its source” （Varsano 147）. Perceiving its source is， for Varsano， the way to establish continuity between present and past that would guarantee the poem its authenticity and make valid its imitation. However， this is precisely what is not possible and what makes imitation not a viable literary mode of representation.
Varsano’s second example is the lad from Shouling which illustrates the dangers of imitation which “go beyond mere failure to self-annihilation” （Varsano 147）. “Attempting to be what you are not， or doing what does not come naturally （which amounts to the same thing）， is futile， and results in the loss of everything — of all that is natural. Such frauds are not merely failures. They cease to exist” （Varsano 147）. For Varsano， the issue amounts to deciding what kind of “ancient” mode Li Bai intended， especially when he gave the title of “Gufeng” （Ancient Airs） to the first poem， which had never been done before.②“By giving the poem the title of Gufeng （Ancient Airs），” she writes， “in qualifying as ‘ancient’ the very thing he would pretend to sustain， gives the lie to any pretended innocence” （Varsano 148）. What is more， “Even if the title is not of Li Bo’s choosing， his explicit Confucius-like stance vis à vis the past announces a similar mastery and distance” （Varsano 148）. Accordingly， we have in the Gufeng the solution to the “inescapable paradox posed by all fugu aspirations” （Varsano 148）. We have “neither imitation nor continuation” and Li Bai is able to imitate the ancients by eluding the failures of either the homely girl and the lad from Shouling. He neither subverts naturalness nor compromises the necessary and undeniable difference between model and copy. （Varsano 148） The way that Li Bai accomplishes the imitation of the ancients is by the use of “quotation.” Relying on Genette’s notion of “transtextualité” and his distinction between “hypotexte” and “hypertexte”，③Varsano opts for a definition of quotation as “intertextuality” which promises “the continued isolation and objectification of the inserted text” （Varsano 149）. The technique makes possible for Li Bai to appropriate past texts while asserting their distinctness. Furthermore， Genette， with the help of Riffaterre， shows that all transtextual practice， including quotation， “begins the initial identification of an existing recognizable idiom to be transported into the newer work” （Varsano 149）. Thus， it is not so much the use of quotation that is at stake as “the nature of the elements identified as idioms for citation” （Varsano 149）. Among the most common are bi （comparison） and Qu Yuan （allusion）.
The use of bi （comparison）， was recognized during the Tang dynasty as one of the defining characteristics of the “Ancient” style. A poet formulating a comparison selects an object found in the natural or historical world， “then writes of that object so that it indirectly expresses the poet’s response to some thing or event that he has encountered” （Varsano 150）. “The object selected for comparison need not be present at the moments of the poem’s inception， but is offered as a projected representation of an already existing feeling” （Varsano 150）. In the Tang dynasty， comparison became associated with political allegory： “[it] suggested a particular type of poetic motivation — the motivation to disguise rather than convey meaning” （Varsano 151）.
Li Bai’s use of comparison in the Gufeng is not traditional. He does not use the technique of comparison as much as he quotes comparisons that have already appeared in the works of earlier poets. Li Bai recycled quotations and integrated them in his work. Varsano’s example is Gufeng #40 probably written on the eve of Li Bai’s departure from the capital and written to his benefactor He Zhizhang. The poem， according to Varsano， is “a good example of a poem constructed essentially of quoted comparisons” （Varsano 152）. The poem is so smoothly put together that one would never know they were quotations：
Gufeng #40
When the phoenix is hungry， he’ll not peck at grain，
But only feed upon pearls of jade.
Unthinkable that he’d join common fowl
To battle with sharpened claw for a single meal！ At dawn he calls from a tree on Mount Kunlun;
At twilight sips at the rapids at the foot of Mount Dizhu.
To fly home he must follow a long ocean byway，
He is cold， sleeping alone under frosty skies.
By chance he meets up with Wangzi Jin，
And they join in friendship at the green clouds’ edge.
But before Wang’s benevolence can be repaid，
Moved by their parting， he sighs deeply in vain （Varsano 153）.
The language of the poem， she writes， is “crystal clear” （Varsano 153）. It joins two compatible allusions in a predictable narrative： the phoenix encounters a sympathetic friend then feels the sorrow of separation. It obviously alludes to Li Bai’s pain at leaving He Zhizhang. In appearance， the poem seems to be a typical occasional parting poem， but what is beautiful in this poem is Li’s insertion of familiar allusions as quotations. In this case the quote is from Ruan Ji’s Yonghuai #79， a story of loneliness of the misunderstood statesman. （Varsano 155）
The poem ends with two allusions， placed in a dialogic relation， which invites a rereading. In Varsano’s reading this encounter allows a lyrical poignancy that not only retains the integrity of the myth but also allows Li Bai to actively intervene in the poem. “His presence now plainly inscribed in the poem， Li Bo can openly merge with the phoenix in the final line and sigh that futile but irrepressible sigh， de rigueur in so many of the parting poems of the age” （Varsano 156）. She also quotes Gufeng #33 （Varsano 156-57） as another case where Li Bai “inserts himself into the narration as an eyewitness of the flight of this divine animal that began life as a piece of quoted text from distant antiquity” （Varsano 157， italics mine）. As in Gufeng #40， we have “a quotation that is linked to the present through a bit of elaboration that might be a latter-day poet’s best chance of returning to antiquity” （Varsano 157， italics mine）. In the Gufeng， Li Bai “retroactively establishes a worthy， ancient tradition. Then he positions himself as its latter-day and eminently spontaneous and true heir” （Varsano 158）.
Varsano’s claims for Li Bai in these Gufeng， and， in particular #40， of an identity of Li Bai and the phoenix does not seem to stand up at a closer reading. It is clear， first of all， that the phoenix is not only a mythic creature but a fiction， a figure which when hungry does not feed on grain as the rest of the animals but on “pearls of jade.” It is “unthinkable，” writes Li Bai， that the phoenix would do battle with the common fowl. The meeting with Wangzi Jin， and their subsequent parting， certainly recalls the parting of friends， which might have been the initial pretext， and the only meaning， in a lesser poet. In Li Bai， however， the issue is more complex. The identity of Wangzi Ji is explained by Varsano but not its importance. In the Daoist classic Liexian Zhuan （Biographies of Eminent Immortals）， he is described as having the unique talent of being able to imitate the cry of the phoenix on his flute （sheng）， for which reason he was made an immortal. （Varsano 153） In other words the phoenix and Wangzi Ji stand to each other in a complex relation of identity and difference. Wangzi Ji’s imitation of the phoenix’ cry puts into question the very possibility of imitation since the phoenix is a mythic figure. The poem states， on the one hand， the possibility of imitating the Ancients as Wangzi Ji imitated the phoenix’ cry， but also its impossibility since nobody has ever heard the Phoenix’ cry， and nobody knows what it sounds like. The two can exist side by side， “in friendship，” but any possibility of imitation is “in vain”： “Moved by their parting， he sighs deeply， in vain.” One can agree with Varsano that the “he” is both the phoenix and Li Bai but not in the sense that the poet “retroactively establishes a worthy， ancient tradition.” This is impossible. Any attempt “to position himself as its latter-day and eminently spontaneous and true heir，” as Varsano claims， is “in vain.”
Beside “bi” （comparison）， the other defining characteristic of the “ancient style，” during the Tang period， is Qu Yuan. “Qu Yuan’s presence lends Li Bo’s ‘Ancient Airs’ moral legitimacy and authenticity” （Varsano 166）. Qu Yuan， in Varsano’s account， is “the unambiguously wronged， misunderstood-but-loyal minister in search of a discerning sovereign” （Varsano 166）. However Qu’s “spirit-journey” is not at stake here. Li Bai seems to engage， instead， Qu’s “fu-like rhapsodic descriptions” （Varsano 167）. Qu Yuan， and the broader Chuci tradition of which he was a part， provided Li Bai with his preferred sources of quotations. Li Bai’s qualitative transformation of ancient texts can best be observed in his use of three sets of Chuci-related images and tropes： nature imagery， as we have seen in Gufeng #16， “climbing high，” and “immortality-related” imagery.
By quoting lush imagery similar to Qu Yuan’s comparisons but prevented to be read as such， Li Bai， according to Varsano， not only draws the line between ‘ancient’ authenticity and recent-style artifice， but “he allows them to collide，” as we can see in Gufeng #52：
Verdant springtime runs with the reckless rapids;
Crimson-bright summer swiftly eddies past. It’s unbearable to see the autumn tumbleweeds
Wheel aimlessly， nowhere to light.
The illumined breeze of clearing skies destroys the orchid，
White dew spatters the tender bean shoots.
The Fair One will not wait for me，
Though grass and tree wither day by day. （Varsano 169）
In Varsano’s view the nature depicted in the poem “resists being read as simple comparison” （Varsano 170）. What she finds most effective “and affecting” is Li Bai’s “vivid rendering of time’s passage， as though it could be seized by the human eye” （Varsano 170）. Yet， this pacific description of nature is not without its dark aspects. The autumn tumbleweeds that “Wheel（s） aimlessly” is said to be “unbearable to see， nowhere to light.” The “illumined breeze” destroys the orchid. The dew “spatters” the bean shoots. The final couplet ends with a resigned remark that “The Fair One will not wait for me/ Though grass and tree wither day by day.” The passage of time from season to season does not mention the last season’s winter， which is the season where everything withers and dies. However winter is present everywhere： in the aimless wheeling of the tumbleweed， in the destruction of the orchid and the spattered bean shoots， as well as in the withering of the grass and the trees. The poem announces death everywhere， indirectly， in the apparent joys and pleasures of the seasons that precede winter. The passing of time announces the arrival of death， anticipated and not yet seen， but present in everything that withers.
As natural as this landscape may appear to Varsano， this is an artificial and literary scenery， “constructed entirely of literary expressions” （Varsano 170）. The nature of this constructed scene is not symbolic， however， since it is not derived from fugu aesthetics， as Varsano tells us， but from another aesthetics that she does not specify， but describes as “closely associated with a poetics he purports to be longing to escape” （Varsano 170）. What this aesthetics may be that Li Bai， or Varsano， long to escape is not clear but since the ancient fugu is associated with an aesthetic of the symbol， this “other” aesthetics must be allegorical. In fact， if the scenery of Gufeng #52 appears to be naturalistic but is， instead， a literary or rhetorical construct， we are not dealing with a symbolic representation of reality but with an allegorical one， which Varsano cannot make herself to state and， probably， longs to escape. Since the themes and the objectives of the Gufeng as a whole are shared by all the 59 Gufeng of the series， a reading of one Gufeng must necessarily be supplied by another. In the case of Gufeng #52， Varsano calls on Gufeng #38， which also borrows Qu Yuan’s nature imagery：
Gufeng #38
A solitary orchid grows in a secluded garden，
As common weeds conspire to submerge it.
Though basking in the rays of springtime sun，
It still grieves at the high autumn moon.
Flying frost came early whispering，
Green luxuriance feared an imminent end.
Without the gust of a fresh wind，
For whom would it put forth such fragrance？ （Varsano 171）
Gufeng #38 retains most of the elements of Gufeng #52. We have a similar natural description of spring and autumn but also the sense of the arrival of winter with its “Flying frost，” and the “imminent end” of the “Green luxuriance.” When the poem is understood as another rhetorical or literary construct， or an allegory， the literary reference is clearer. It does not have much to do with Qu Yuan， as Varsano believes. In the history of Chinese poetry there is only one poet which the orchid symbolizes： Tao Yuanming or Tao Qian. The lines “A solitary orchid grows in a secluded garden，/ As common weeds conspire to submerge it” is a reference to Tao Yuanming’s “Twenty poems about drinking” and， specifically， to number 17 where the dire living conditions of Tao Yuanming are symbolized by a “hidden orchid” choking among the weeds. The beautiful orchid can only be recognized when a “liberating cleansing breeze” arrives to release its perfume and one can tell the rare plant from the weeds. This is the liberating breeze of Tao’s poetry which alone identifies and separates him from the others.”④ The reference in Gufeng #38 is almost verbatim a reference to Tao’s poem #17.
The connection to Tao Yuanming also explains the desperate cry for help of the last two lines：
Without the gust of a fresh wind，
For whom would it put forth such fragrance？
As Tao points out in his poem， only when “a liberating cleansing breeze” releases its perfume can we differentiate the orchid from the weeds around it， his poetry from the others. Li Bai’s question in the final couplet is a reference to Tao and his poetry. Without “the gust of a fresh wind” of his poetry， the fragrance which enables to tell the difference between the orchid from the weeds， how will we ever be able to tell the difference between his poetry and that of his imitators， good poetry from bad poetry？ How can we tell the difference between the “Ancient Airs” and its modern imitations？ Between the poetry of the past and Li Bai’s？ This is the question. Notes
①Quoted in Paula M. Varsano， Tracking the Banished Immortal， 141. While Varsano refers to the poet as Li Bo， I continue the practice of using Li Bai.
②On the discussion of Li Bai’s use of Gufeng as a title， see Varsano， 144.
③For more detailed discussion， see Varsano， 148.
④See my paper， “Reading Tao Yuanming/Tao Qian： ‘Twenty Poems about Drinking’，” Comparative Literature & World Literature， 53-72.
⑤On this point， see my “Under Western Critical Eyes： Du Fu，” 211-228.
⑥See my article on Du Fu quoted earlier.
⑦Quoted in Paula M. Varsano， Tracking the Banished Immortal： The Poetry of Li Bo and Its Critical Reception， 141.
Works Cited
Li， Bo. The Selected Poems of Li Po. Translated and edited by David Hinton. New York： New Directions， 1996.
Varsano， Paula M. Tracking the Banished Immortal： The Poetry of Li Bo and Its Critical Reception. Honolulu： University of Hawaii Press， 2003.
Verdicchio， Massimo. “Reading Tao Yuanming/Tao Qian： ‘Twenty Poems about Drinking’.” Comparative Literature & World Literature 2.2 （2017）： 53-72.
---. “Under Western Critical Eyes： Du Fu.” Journal of Comparative Literature Studies 54.1 （2017）： 211-228.
Yu， Pauline. The Reading of Imagery in the Chinese Tradition. Princeton： Princeton UP， 1987.
責任编辑：宫桂
Key words： Li Bai; Gufeng; Tao Yuanming; Paula M. Varsano; allegory; modernity
Author： Massimo Verdicchio is Emeritus Professor of Italian and Comparative Literature. He has written extensively on Dante， Petrarch， the philosophy of Benedetto Croce and European literature. He has also published on the poetry of Li Bai， Du Fu， Tao Yuanming and Li Shang-yin.
內容摘要：本文对李白的《古风五十九首》进行了解读，这一重要诗歌类型的目标就是重拾从前的诗歌精神。本文之中的解读沿袭了方葆珍相关研究之中的思路，作为一位专门研究李白的学者，在《追寻谪仙》这本专门研究李白诗歌的著作中，方葆珍对这一诗歌类型有十分详尽的论述。本文则主要聚焦于这一诗歌类型的主题，尤其是其中的永生主题，同时还讨论了李白同陶渊明的关系。就此而言，李白的《古风》是其现代性的最佳体现。
关键词：李白;《古风》;陶渊明;方葆珍;寓言;现代性
作者简介：马西莫·韦尔迪基奥，加拿大阿尔伯塔大学意大利文学和比较文学荣休教授，发表过大量关于但丁、彼特拉克、贝奈戴托·克罗齐和欧洲文学的论文，同时还对李白、杜甫、陶渊明和李商隐等人的诗歌有专门的研究。
Gufeng #1
How long since the “Elegantiae” were composed –
And， with my demise， who then shall carry on？
The airs of the kings， given over to withered creeping vines，
And the Warring States： overgrown with brambles and thorns.
……………………………………….
I am determined to condense and retell，
The brilliance [my writings] emit will illuminate a thousand springtimes.
Should an aspiring sage establish himself，
I will stop writing when the “unicorn is caught.”
（Li Bai， Gufeng #1） ①
Paula M. Varsano in her study of Li Bai， Tracking the Banished Immortal， raises the issue of the fifty-nine ancient-style poems and their “prominent and isolated position accorded to the Gufeng （Ancient Airs） grouped together in the second juan of the collection” （Varsano 141）. According to her， these poems hardly get the recognition they deserve with the exception of the above quoted poem which is “judged important less for its poetic quality than for its handy summary of what many readers take to be Li Bo’s own critical bent. It offers the only instance of extended overt literary criticism in his entire works” （Varsano 142）. While some critics believe that the Gufeng are not among Li Bai’s most successful poems， there are those who “celebrate these poems as the essence of all Li Bo’s work” （Varsano 142）. Especially those critics in the late Ming dynasty who bestowed upon these poems the status of “a kind of poetic signature” （Varsano 143）. Varsano poses the question of what defines this “signature.” She answers it by pointing out that the early editors qualified these poems as “articulations of intent： a mix of declarative statement， allusion， and allegory employed by the poet to convey the most urgent and profound feelings” （Varsano 143）. These poems evoke the process of natural， unpremeditated poetic creation encoded in the Shijing， and the Confucian allegorical exegesis， and “effectively identify the Gufeng as the purest embodiment of Li Bo’s fidelity to ancient authenticity” （Varsano 143）. They acknowledge that the Gufeng aspires to ancient “authenticity” but they also tend to gloss over the way Li Bai uses these ancient signs and his attitude towards them. However， Varsano disagrees. According to her Li Bai is neither continuing the poetics of the ancients nor parodying it. In her view， the Gufeng manifests， if not revives， “the ideal of ancientness through the representation of the poetic act in all its blatant repetitiveness” （Varsano 144）.
To disclaim any possibility that Li Bai meant to imitate the ancients， Varsano quotes Gufeng #35 where the poet raises the problem of literary imitation and takes his distance from it：
The homely girl imitated Xi Shi furrowing her brows，
Returned home and stunned neighbors all around.
The lad from Shouling lost his natural gait.
Convulsing with laughter the folk of Handan. （Varsano 147）
In her explanation Varsano points out that the “homely girl” lacks not only Xi Shi’s “innate and artless beauty” but lacks most of all “the heartsickness behind her frown.” The “homely girl” could imitate Xi Shi on the surface but not her inner self： her artless beauty and her heartsickness. She observes that： “this poor girl embodies the imitator who is not only unable to reproduce the desired effect， but incapable of perceiving its source” （Varsano 147）. Perceiving its source is， for Varsano， the way to establish continuity between present and past that would guarantee the poem its authenticity and make valid its imitation. However， this is precisely what is not possible and what makes imitation not a viable literary mode of representation.
Varsano’s second example is the lad from Shouling which illustrates the dangers of imitation which “go beyond mere failure to self-annihilation” （Varsano 147）. “Attempting to be what you are not， or doing what does not come naturally （which amounts to the same thing）， is futile， and results in the loss of everything — of all that is natural. Such frauds are not merely failures. They cease to exist” （Varsano 147）. For Varsano， the issue amounts to deciding what kind of “ancient” mode Li Bai intended， especially when he gave the title of “Gufeng” （Ancient Airs） to the first poem， which had never been done before.②“By giving the poem the title of Gufeng （Ancient Airs），” she writes， “in qualifying as ‘ancient’ the very thing he would pretend to sustain， gives the lie to any pretended innocence” （Varsano 148）. What is more， “Even if the title is not of Li Bo’s choosing， his explicit Confucius-like stance vis à vis the past announces a similar mastery and distance” （Varsano 148）. Accordingly， we have in the Gufeng the solution to the “inescapable paradox posed by all fugu aspirations” （Varsano 148）. We have “neither imitation nor continuation” and Li Bai is able to imitate the ancients by eluding the failures of either the homely girl and the lad from Shouling. He neither subverts naturalness nor compromises the necessary and undeniable difference between model and copy. （Varsano 148） The way that Li Bai accomplishes the imitation of the ancients is by the use of “quotation.” Relying on Genette’s notion of “transtextualité” and his distinction between “hypotexte” and “hypertexte”，③Varsano opts for a definition of quotation as “intertextuality” which promises “the continued isolation and objectification of the inserted text” （Varsano 149）. The technique makes possible for Li Bai to appropriate past texts while asserting their distinctness. Furthermore， Genette， with the help of Riffaterre， shows that all transtextual practice， including quotation， “begins the initial identification of an existing recognizable idiom to be transported into the newer work” （Varsano 149）. Thus， it is not so much the use of quotation that is at stake as “the nature of the elements identified as idioms for citation” （Varsano 149）. Among the most common are bi （comparison） and Qu Yuan （allusion）.
The use of bi （comparison）， was recognized during the Tang dynasty as one of the defining characteristics of the “Ancient” style. A poet formulating a comparison selects an object found in the natural or historical world， “then writes of that object so that it indirectly expresses the poet’s response to some thing or event that he has encountered” （Varsano 150）. “The object selected for comparison need not be present at the moments of the poem’s inception， but is offered as a projected representation of an already existing feeling” （Varsano 150）. In the Tang dynasty， comparison became associated with political allegory： “[it] suggested a particular type of poetic motivation — the motivation to disguise rather than convey meaning” （Varsano 151）.
Li Bai’s use of comparison in the Gufeng is not traditional. He does not use the technique of comparison as much as he quotes comparisons that have already appeared in the works of earlier poets. Li Bai recycled quotations and integrated them in his work. Varsano’s example is Gufeng #40 probably written on the eve of Li Bai’s departure from the capital and written to his benefactor He Zhizhang. The poem， according to Varsano， is “a good example of a poem constructed essentially of quoted comparisons” （Varsano 152）. The poem is so smoothly put together that one would never know they were quotations：
Gufeng #40
When the phoenix is hungry， he’ll not peck at grain，
But only feed upon pearls of jade.
Unthinkable that he’d join common fowl
To battle with sharpened claw for a single meal！ At dawn he calls from a tree on Mount Kunlun;
At twilight sips at the rapids at the foot of Mount Dizhu.
To fly home he must follow a long ocean byway，
He is cold， sleeping alone under frosty skies.
By chance he meets up with Wangzi Jin，
And they join in friendship at the green clouds’ edge.
But before Wang’s benevolence can be repaid，
Moved by their parting， he sighs deeply in vain （Varsano 153）.
The language of the poem， she writes， is “crystal clear” （Varsano 153）. It joins two compatible allusions in a predictable narrative： the phoenix encounters a sympathetic friend then feels the sorrow of separation. It obviously alludes to Li Bai’s pain at leaving He Zhizhang. In appearance， the poem seems to be a typical occasional parting poem， but what is beautiful in this poem is Li’s insertion of familiar allusions as quotations. In this case the quote is from Ruan Ji’s Yonghuai #79， a story of loneliness of the misunderstood statesman. （Varsano 155）
The poem ends with two allusions， placed in a dialogic relation， which invites a rereading. In Varsano’s reading this encounter allows a lyrical poignancy that not only retains the integrity of the myth but also allows Li Bai to actively intervene in the poem. “His presence now plainly inscribed in the poem， Li Bo can openly merge with the phoenix in the final line and sigh that futile but irrepressible sigh， de rigueur in so many of the parting poems of the age” （Varsano 156）. She also quotes Gufeng #33 （Varsano 156-57） as another case where Li Bai “inserts himself into the narration as an eyewitness of the flight of this divine animal that began life as a piece of quoted text from distant antiquity” （Varsano 157， italics mine）. As in Gufeng #40， we have “a quotation that is linked to the present through a bit of elaboration that might be a latter-day poet’s best chance of returning to antiquity” （Varsano 157， italics mine）. In the Gufeng， Li Bai “retroactively establishes a worthy， ancient tradition. Then he positions himself as its latter-day and eminently spontaneous and true heir” （Varsano 158）.
Varsano’s claims for Li Bai in these Gufeng， and， in particular #40， of an identity of Li Bai and the phoenix does not seem to stand up at a closer reading. It is clear， first of all， that the phoenix is not only a mythic creature but a fiction， a figure which when hungry does not feed on grain as the rest of the animals but on “pearls of jade.” It is “unthinkable，” writes Li Bai， that the phoenix would do battle with the common fowl. The meeting with Wangzi Jin， and their subsequent parting， certainly recalls the parting of friends， which might have been the initial pretext， and the only meaning， in a lesser poet. In Li Bai， however， the issue is more complex. The identity of Wangzi Ji is explained by Varsano but not its importance. In the Daoist classic Liexian Zhuan （Biographies of Eminent Immortals）， he is described as having the unique talent of being able to imitate the cry of the phoenix on his flute （sheng）， for which reason he was made an immortal. （Varsano 153） In other words the phoenix and Wangzi Ji stand to each other in a complex relation of identity and difference. Wangzi Ji’s imitation of the phoenix’ cry puts into question the very possibility of imitation since the phoenix is a mythic figure. The poem states， on the one hand， the possibility of imitating the Ancients as Wangzi Ji imitated the phoenix’ cry， but also its impossibility since nobody has ever heard the Phoenix’ cry， and nobody knows what it sounds like. The two can exist side by side， “in friendship，” but any possibility of imitation is “in vain”： “Moved by their parting， he sighs deeply， in vain.” One can agree with Varsano that the “he” is both the phoenix and Li Bai but not in the sense that the poet “retroactively establishes a worthy， ancient tradition.” This is impossible. Any attempt “to position himself as its latter-day and eminently spontaneous and true heir，” as Varsano claims， is “in vain.”
Beside “bi” （comparison）， the other defining characteristic of the “ancient style，” during the Tang period， is Qu Yuan. “Qu Yuan’s presence lends Li Bo’s ‘Ancient Airs’ moral legitimacy and authenticity” （Varsano 166）. Qu Yuan， in Varsano’s account， is “the unambiguously wronged， misunderstood-but-loyal minister in search of a discerning sovereign” （Varsano 166）. However Qu’s “spirit-journey” is not at stake here. Li Bai seems to engage， instead， Qu’s “fu-like rhapsodic descriptions” （Varsano 167）. Qu Yuan， and the broader Chuci tradition of which he was a part， provided Li Bai with his preferred sources of quotations. Li Bai’s qualitative transformation of ancient texts can best be observed in his use of three sets of Chuci-related images and tropes： nature imagery， as we have seen in Gufeng #16， “climbing high，” and “immortality-related” imagery.
By quoting lush imagery similar to Qu Yuan’s comparisons but prevented to be read as such， Li Bai， according to Varsano， not only draws the line between ‘ancient’ authenticity and recent-style artifice， but “he allows them to collide，” as we can see in Gufeng #52：
Verdant springtime runs with the reckless rapids;
Crimson-bright summer swiftly eddies past. It’s unbearable to see the autumn tumbleweeds
Wheel aimlessly， nowhere to light.
The illumined breeze of clearing skies destroys the orchid，
White dew spatters the tender bean shoots.
The Fair One will not wait for me，
Though grass and tree wither day by day. （Varsano 169）
In Varsano’s view the nature depicted in the poem “resists being read as simple comparison” （Varsano 170）. What she finds most effective “and affecting” is Li Bai’s “vivid rendering of time’s passage， as though it could be seized by the human eye” （Varsano 170）. Yet， this pacific description of nature is not without its dark aspects. The autumn tumbleweeds that “Wheel（s） aimlessly” is said to be “unbearable to see， nowhere to light.” The “illumined breeze” destroys the orchid. The dew “spatters” the bean shoots. The final couplet ends with a resigned remark that “The Fair One will not wait for me/ Though grass and tree wither day by day.” The passage of time from season to season does not mention the last season’s winter， which is the season where everything withers and dies. However winter is present everywhere： in the aimless wheeling of the tumbleweed， in the destruction of the orchid and the spattered bean shoots， as well as in the withering of the grass and the trees. The poem announces death everywhere， indirectly， in the apparent joys and pleasures of the seasons that precede winter. The passing of time announces the arrival of death， anticipated and not yet seen， but present in everything that withers.
As natural as this landscape may appear to Varsano， this is an artificial and literary scenery， “constructed entirely of literary expressions” （Varsano 170）. The nature of this constructed scene is not symbolic， however， since it is not derived from fugu aesthetics， as Varsano tells us， but from another aesthetics that she does not specify， but describes as “closely associated with a poetics he purports to be longing to escape” （Varsano 170）. What this aesthetics may be that Li Bai， or Varsano， long to escape is not clear but since the ancient fugu is associated with an aesthetic of the symbol， this “other” aesthetics must be allegorical. In fact， if the scenery of Gufeng #52 appears to be naturalistic but is， instead， a literary or rhetorical construct， we are not dealing with a symbolic representation of reality but with an allegorical one， which Varsano cannot make herself to state and， probably， longs to escape. Since the themes and the objectives of the Gufeng as a whole are shared by all the 59 Gufeng of the series， a reading of one Gufeng must necessarily be supplied by another. In the case of Gufeng #52， Varsano calls on Gufeng #38， which also borrows Qu Yuan’s nature imagery：
Gufeng #38
A solitary orchid grows in a secluded garden，
As common weeds conspire to submerge it.
Though basking in the rays of springtime sun，
It still grieves at the high autumn moon.
Flying frost came early whispering，
Green luxuriance feared an imminent end.
Without the gust of a fresh wind，
For whom would it put forth such fragrance？ （Varsano 171）
Gufeng #38 retains most of the elements of Gufeng #52. We have a similar natural description of spring and autumn but also the sense of the arrival of winter with its “Flying frost，” and the “imminent end” of the “Green luxuriance.” When the poem is understood as another rhetorical or literary construct， or an allegory， the literary reference is clearer. It does not have much to do with Qu Yuan， as Varsano believes. In the history of Chinese poetry there is only one poet which the orchid symbolizes： Tao Yuanming or Tao Qian. The lines “A solitary orchid grows in a secluded garden，/ As common weeds conspire to submerge it” is a reference to Tao Yuanming’s “Twenty poems about drinking” and， specifically， to number 17 where the dire living conditions of Tao Yuanming are symbolized by a “hidden orchid” choking among the weeds. The beautiful orchid can only be recognized when a “liberating cleansing breeze” arrives to release its perfume and one can tell the rare plant from the weeds. This is the liberating breeze of Tao’s poetry which alone identifies and separates him from the others.”④ The reference in Gufeng #38 is almost verbatim a reference to Tao’s poem #17.
The connection to Tao Yuanming also explains the desperate cry for help of the last two lines：
Without the gust of a fresh wind，
For whom would it put forth such fragrance？
As Tao points out in his poem， only when “a liberating cleansing breeze” releases its perfume can we differentiate the orchid from the weeds around it， his poetry from the others. Li Bai’s question in the final couplet is a reference to Tao and his poetry. Without “the gust of a fresh wind” of his poetry， the fragrance which enables to tell the difference between the orchid from the weeds， how will we ever be able to tell the difference between his poetry and that of his imitators， good poetry from bad poetry？ How can we tell the difference between the “Ancient Airs” and its modern imitations？ Between the poetry of the past and Li Bai’s？ This is the question. Notes
①Quoted in Paula M. Varsano， Tracking the Banished Immortal， 141. While Varsano refers to the poet as Li Bo， I continue the practice of using Li Bai.
②On the discussion of Li Bai’s use of Gufeng as a title， see Varsano， 144.
③For more detailed discussion， see Varsano， 148.
④See my paper， “Reading Tao Yuanming/Tao Qian： ‘Twenty Poems about Drinking’，” Comparative Literature & World Literature， 53-72.
⑤On this point， see my “Under Western Critical Eyes： Du Fu，” 211-228.
⑥See my article on Du Fu quoted earlier.
⑦Quoted in Paula M. Varsano， Tracking the Banished Immortal： The Poetry of Li Bo and Its Critical Reception， 141.
Works Cited
Li， Bo. The Selected Poems of Li Po. Translated and edited by David Hinton. New York： New Directions， 1996.
Varsano， Paula M. Tracking the Banished Immortal： The Poetry of Li Bo and Its Critical Reception. Honolulu： University of Hawaii Press， 2003.
Verdicchio， Massimo. “Reading Tao Yuanming/Tao Qian： ‘Twenty Poems about Drinking’.” Comparative Literature & World Literature 2.2 （2017）： 53-72.
---. “Under Western Critical Eyes： Du Fu.” Journal of Comparative Literature Studies 54.1 （2017）： 211-228.
Yu， Pauline. The Reading of Imagery in the Chinese Tradition. Princeton： Princeton UP， 1987.
責任编辑：宫桂