The Myth and Reality of Liaozhai Zhiyi’s Origins

Two enduring myths surround the creation of Pu Songling’s masterpiece Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio (commonly known as Liaozhai Zhiyi). The first suggests the impoverished scholar collected stories by operating a tea stall at Willow Spring, exchanging tea for tales which he later refined into literary gems. The second interprets “Liaozhai” simply as a “studio for chatting.” Historical evidence dismantles both romantic notions.

As Pu himself confessed in The Preface to Liaozhai, he lived hand-to-mouth, working as a tutor for wealthy families – hardly conducive to leisurely tea-selling. The tea stall legend originates from Sanjielu Bitan, a source discredited even by Lu Xun. The deeper meaning of “Liaozhai” connects to classical Chinese literature, echoing Qu Yuan’s Li Sao and Tao Yuanming’s poetry, conveying resignation – writing as consolation when higher aspirations prove unattainable.

A Fateful Literary Encounter: Pu Songling and Wang Shizhen

The intersection between the struggling writer and Wang Shizhen, the eminent poet and Minister of Justice, represents a pivotal moment in Chinese literary history. During Wang’s mourning period in 1679, he visited relatives near Pu’s workplace and discovered Strange Tales. The powerful official, then compiling his own Chibei Outan, became an unlikely champion of Pu’s supernatural stories.

Wang’s 36 marginal comments reveal genuine admiration, praising Zhang Cheng as “a superb romance” and Liancheng’s protagonist as “a true romantic, unexpected after The Peony Pavilion.” His playful yet profound dedicatory poem captures the essence of Pu’s work:

“Let’s tell them carelessly, hear them carelessly,
Under bean arbors, melon trellises, rain like silk.
Surely tired of human discourse,
You love ghosts singing by autumn graves.”

Pu’s emotional response poem exposes his decades-long dedication amid poverty. This rare validation from a cultural authority (despite Wang’s eventual refusal to write a preface) highlights the complex dynamics between institutional power and literary merit in Qing dynasty China.

The Psychology Behind the Supernatural Romances

Scholars have long speculated about the origins of Pu’s remarkably varied love stories. The debated Portrait Inscription for Chen Shuqing fueled theories about Pu’s alleged second wife and real-life romance, though evidence suggests he ghostwrote this for a friend named Wang Minru.

The truth proves more psychologically revealing. Pu’s conventional marriage to the devoted Liu氏 contrasted sharply with his literary fantasies. Isolated during long tutoring assignments, the imaginative author conjured supernatural lovers – fox spirits, flower fairies, even a paper cutout of the Weaving Maid coming alive from the Book of Han. These self-sufficient, intellectually equal female characters who defy social conventions represent both wish fulfillment and subtle social commentary.

As Freud would later articulate, these tales manifest “wish fulfillment” – the impoverished scholar’s dreams of recognition, companionship, and escape from Confucian constraints. The meta-fictional Fox Dream, featuring a fictional character named Bi Yi’an requesting Pu to immortalize his supernatural romance, showcases Pu’s self-aware narrative playfulness.

Literary Craftsmanship and Creative Process

Pu’s working methods dispel romantic myths about spontaneous composition. Beginning in his twenties, he systematically collected material, as noted in his preface: “I dearly love collecting supernatural tales,” “delight in hearing ghost stories,” and “when I hear them, I take up my brush.” The surviving manuscript drafts reveal meticulous revisions – the hundred-word The Concubine Who Repelled Bandits underwent four title changes alone.

Unlike contemporaries who viewed fiction as diversion, Pu approached storytelling with profound seriousness. His career-long refinement of Strange Tales (adding Summer Snow at age 68) demonstrates unprecedented dedication in Chinese letters. The collection’s 491 tales represent diverse sources: personal experiences, friends’ accounts, historical records, and folk tales – all transformed by Pu’s narrative alchemy.

Enduring Legacy and Modern Relevance

Strange Tales endures not merely as entertainment but as a multifaceted cultural artifact. Pu’s supernatural romances subtly critique Qing society’s gender norms and examination system while capturing universal human desires. The tales’ adaptability across media – from traditional opera to contemporary films and television – attests to their timeless appeal.

Modern readers appreciate Pu’s psychological depth centuries before Freud and his proto-feminist heroines challenging Confucian patriarchy. The work’s global influence (translations in over twenty languages) confirms Pu’s status as a literary pioneer. Ironically, Wang Shizhen’s brief poem about Strange Tales now outshines most of his voluminous “serious” works – a posthumous vindication Pu might have savored.

Ultimately, Strange Tales represents the triumph of imagination over circumstance. As Victor Hugo observed, “Imagination is depth.” For thirty years spanning Kangxi’s reign, a provincial tutor transformed folk motifs and personal frustrations into one of world literature’s most enduring story collections – proving that literary genius can flourish even on society’s margins.