A Promising Start in the Qing Dynasty

In 1658, during the 15th year of the Shunzhi Emperor’s reign, a 19-year-old scholar named Pu Songling achieved something remarkable: he topped the county, prefectural, and provincial examinations in Shandong, earning the prestigious title of xiucai (秀才), or “cultivated talent.” This early triumph should have set him on a path to bureaucratic success, but history had other plans.

What made Pu’s victory extraordinary was not just his youth but the unconventional nature of his examination essay. The topic, “Early Rising” (蚤起), was derived from a passage in Mencius about a man with one wife and one concubine. The essay was expected to follow the rigid baguwen (八股文) format—a highly structured style that required imitating the moral tone of ancient sages. Instead, Pu wrote something closer to fiction, blending satire, psychological insight, and vivid dialogue.

His examiner, the renowned poet Shi Runzhang (施闰章), was a literary giant of the early Qing era, celebrated alongside Song Wan as one of the “Two Masters of Southern Shi and Northern Song.” Rather than dismissing Pu’s unorthodox approach, Shi praised his ability to expose “the ugly face of wealth and status” through lively prose. His glowing endorsement—”Reading his work is like gazing at the moon; his brush moves like the wind”—catapulted Pu to first place. Yet this very brilliance would haunt Pu’s future.

The Downfall of a Nonconformist Genius

Pu’s early success proved to be a double-edged sword. The baguwen system demanded conformity, but Pu’s creative instincts pulled him toward narrative flair and social critique. Subsequent attempts at higher-level exams ended in failure. The provincial juren (举人) exams, which could have secured him an official post, became an insurmountable barrier.

Historians speculate that Pu’s later examiners, less imaginative than Shi Runzhang, likely dismissed his unconventional style. The Qing Dynasty’s emphasis on rote memorization and rigid formalism left little room for originality. By his 40s, Pu had resigned himself to a life of teaching and writing, far from the corridors of power.

The Birth of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio

Freed from the constraints of exam preparation, Pu channeled his frustrations into literature. Over decades, he collected and composed nearly 500 supernatural stories, later compiled as Liaozhai Zhiyi (Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio). These tales blended folklore, ghost stories, and social satire, often featuring:
– Fox spirits (huli jing) who exposed human hypocrisy
– Corrupt officials mirrored by vengeful ghosts
– Romantic liaisons that defied Confucian norms

Unlike the dry moralizing of baguwen, Pu’s stories thrived on ambiguity. A tale like “The Painted Skin” (画皮) could be read as both a horror story and a critique of societal greed. His background as a failed scholar lent authenticity to his portraits of bureaucratic absurdity.

Cultural Impact: Subversion Through Storytelling

Pu’s work resonated because it spoke to the anxieties of his era. The early Qing Dynasty was a time of intellectual repression, with the Manchu rulers enforcing strict orthodoxy. Liaozhai offered a covert outlet for dissent:
– Social Critique: Stories like “The Cricket” (促织) highlighted the cruelty of the imperial examination system—a system Pu knew intimately.
– Gender Subversion: Female characters, often supernatural, wielded power unavailable to real-world women.
– Literary Innovation: By mixing classical prose with vernacular elements, Pu bridged high and low culture.

Though banned intermittently, the tales spread through handwritten copies, becoming a cultural touchstone.

Legacy: From Obscurity to Immortality

Pu Songling died in 1715, unrecognized by the literary establishment. Yet within a century, Liaozhai was celebrated as a masterpiece. Modern scholars see Pu as a pioneer who:
– Influenced later writers like Lu Xun and Mo Yan
– Preserved vanishing folk traditions
– Anticipated psychological realism in fiction

Today, his hometown of Zibo, Shandong, houses a museum in his honor. Adaptations of his stories appear in films, operas, and even video games.

Conclusion: The Irony of Genius

Pu Songling’s life embodies a paradox: the very creativity that doomed his bureaucratic career immortalized him as a writer. His “failures” forced him to observe society from the margins, yielding literature that transcended its time. In a world obsessed with conformity, Pu’s defiance became his triumph. As one modern critic noted, “The exams produced thousands of forgettable officials—but only one Pu Songling.”

For readers today, his story is a reminder that brilliance often flourishes outside rigid systems. The Qing Dynasty’s loss was literature’s gain.