So Many Books, Not Enough Time

「你小心点！这个呢可是我最喜欢的一副扇子。你看 画工精巧构图別致。怎么样 是不是当世极品哪？」

“Be careful! This is my favorite folding fan. Look, it’s exquisitely painted and uniquely constructed. How is it? It’s of the highest grade, isn’t it?”

― Nie Huaisang, episode 35 of 陈情令 The Untamed (2020)

It was late 2019 when I first heard about Chen Qing Ling, in countries outside of China and other majority-Chinese speaking areas better known as The Untamed.[1] I had, at the time, not watched a proper C-drama in years. Intrigued by CQL’s sudden popularity, however, I decided to check it out; after all, it was not every day that a C-drama gains popularity in the west. Even with the recent uptick in East-Asian media gaining traction[2], it was still a surprise to see a xianxia series getting the same level of adoration in online circles I had previously only seen dedicated to Disney intellectual property.

Based on the web-novel Mo Dao Zu Shi (Founder of Demonic Cultivation) by MXTX, CQL tells the story of Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian, and details the events in the cultivation world surrounding his teenage years until his untimely death several years later, and the mystery surrounding his resurrection yet 13 years afterwards. A series spanning roughly 20 years in 50 episodes, CQL is an epic that at the same time leaves out a lot of the original novel. After all, it is an adaptation of a danmei-genre novel: focusing on male-male romance generally created by and for women and sexual minorities (Lavin et al 2017). Considering the strict media regulations in China, most of the homoeroticism either had to be censored or subtextual (Xu 2014; Shaw and Zhang 2018).

With this popularity, however, also came the very western-centric, colonialist, and orientalist interpretations of the text. Focusing in particular on the way that Asian men have been and are seen as more feminine (Han 2016; Han 2006; Song 2004) and how western fans continue to perpetuate this rhetoric when consuming C-dramas, I will take as a case study the way that Nie Huaisang, one of the main supporting characters in CQL, has been hailed as a gender-nonconforming, nonbinary, and/or trans icon by western fans. Starting with expounding on the danmei genre as a whole, and what that means for Nie Huaisang as a character, I shall then discuss the ways that Chinese masculinities are constructed and how Nie Huaisang exemplifies the wen ideal of masculinity, being a scholar and an artist. Finally, I will talk about western fans’ attitudes being culturally insensitive on top of reiterating and reinforcing western-centric, colonialist, and orientalist tropes and ideals surrounding masculinity and manhood.

Danmei, derived from the Japanese term tanbi and the Chinese equivalent to BL (Boys’ Love), although by now it has transformed into its own subculture instead of wholly resembling its Japanese counterpart, literally means “addicted to beauty” (Feng 2009; Lavin et al 2017; Kam 2012). It depicts an idealized love between (young) male characters, who also embody ideal, generally androgynous, beauty standards, and whose beauty is at the forefront of the text. These beauty standards extend even to the side characters, and in drama adaptations the casts tend to boast idols and young, conventionally attractive actors in all roles ― as is the case with CQL.

What this means for Nie Huaisang, who is neither a love interest nor a main character, is that he would still have to fall into the trope of being a beautiful man, and have it be natural within the narrative. Chinese beauty standards here differ from the eurocentric and oftentimes colonialist norm that western fans are used to. Furthermore, culturally and historically the androgynous looks that are romanticized and exalted are constructed within the framework of masculinity; in other words, while for westerners androgyny might mean gender-nonconformity, nothing could be farther from the truth when looking at how Chinese masculinity and manhood are constructed (Kam 2012).

Beyond aestheticism, however, which is more of a danmei staple (Feng 2009), there are many other ways in which masculinity and manhood were conceptualized in ancient China. Nie Huaisang, being a scholar, embodies a very distinct masculine ideal (Kam 2002; Kam 2015; Song 2004). The scholar class was a male-only, and, indeed, one of the most venerated of professions held in ancient China. Nie Huaisang, being a sect heir and later sect leader, furthermore was well-off, meaning that he couldn’t be in a “feminine” scholarly position either ― marginalized/poor scholars were emasculated by being in the service of higher-ranking men, think of pinshi (poor scholars), muyou (secretary scholars), or hanshi (obscure scholars), which could never be the case for Nie Huaisang (Kam 2016). Within the framework of Chinese masculinity, and specifically the wen-wu (literary-martial) understanding and conceptualization of it, scholars were further preferred over their martial counterparts; Nie Huaisang, by virtue of being a scholar and a beauty, even lives up to the romanticized masculine ideal of the caizi jiaren[3] (“scholar-beauty”) hero (Song 2004). While being a well-rounded individual was of course appreciated more[4], as a poet, artist, and shrewd intellectual Nie Huaisang more than conforms to male gender roles as they exist within the cultural and historical context (Kam 2002; Kam 2015).

「大哥这人你也了解 一向鲁莽 又容易冲动。可你不像他。你自小理性内敛、又习得奇门道用。」

“You know eldest brother[5] well. He’s always been reckless and impulsive. But you are not like him. You have been rational and restrained since you were young, and you are good at Daoist magic.”

― Jin Guangyao to Nie Huaisang, 乱魄 Fatal Journey (2020)

In Fatal Journey, which is a spin-off movie of CQL focusing solely on the Nie sect, Jin Guangyao tells Nie Huaisang the above. Nie Mingjue is in the series and movie both depicted as a strong fighter; juxtaposing both brothers, one who is good at martial pursuits and one who follows intellectual pursuits, it becomes clear that here, too, “rationality” and therefore being an intellectual is preferred over the brute strength in cishetero-patriarchal hypermasculinity that the west favors, while simultaneously marking both brothers as still conforming to masculine standards.

The fact that western fans interpret Nie Huaisang to be “GNC-coded”, then, has to do with their own preconceptions surrounding how western (white, eurocentric) masculinity and manhood are constructed, and taken as the norm for these concepts. Because of orientalism, East Asian men as a whole are feminized, emasculated, and infantilized (Han 2016; Han 2006; Kam 2012; Kapac 1998). Western fans consuming and interacting with East Asian media will be done through such a lens, and when uncontested, only perpetuate this rhetoric. In period dramas such as CQL, where everyone wears flowing robes and has long hair[6] ― historically and culturally accurate ― western audiences will instead interpret this to mean their conceptions of Chinese people to be more feminine aren’t unfounded. While the construction of Chinese masculinities have changed since ancient times (Kam 2015; Song 2010), and the representations of Chinese masculinities in TV have become more globalized (Song 2010), it nevertheless does not mean that male characters in period dramas are ever seen as feminine or deliberately emasculated through being a scholar as opposed to a warrior ― that is a purely western interpretation.

Nie Huaisang’s mannerisms, while seemingly “feminine” by western standards ― his love for fans, his artistry, his intellect, his aversion to violence ― all have cultural, contextual, historical, and in-universe explanations that have nothing to do with his manhood nor his masculinity[7]; he was written as a frivolous “second young master” with no ambition to take on the role as sect leader[8], and his sect’s cultivation style actively poisoned the mind and body. Is it any wonder, then, that he did not take up the dao? While he doesn’t conform to the cultivation world’s standards of a cultivator and later as sect leader, a role he was forced into after his brother’s death, this does not make him gender-nonconforming. Western audiences’ preoccupation with his antipathy towards using his dao and not fighting furthermore points to their subscription to western-centric, colonialist ideals of hypermasculinity (Han 2016; Song 2004), which they assume are universal, and therefore ascribing Nie Huaisang traits that simply aren’t there. In the end, his wielding of a fan and brush instead of a dao is then interpreted as him being effeminate and not conforming to gender roles, instead of understanding that as a scholar and artist, he conforms to gender roles just fine, but does not conform to traditional cultivator roles.

In a rapidly globalizing world where it is increasingly easy to gain access to media made elsewhere, western audiences’ inability to understand that their worldview is limited actively perpetuates orientalist tropes and racist misconceptions. The way that Nie Huaisang is seen as gender-nonconforming by fans points to the racialization of gender and its construction. A scholar and an intellectual, wielding a fan and being an expert strategist, Nie Huaisang is at times reminiscent of Zhuge Liang, a legendary historical scholar. Yet, while he conforms to male gender roles within his own cultural context, being emblematic of the wen ideal of masculinity, western audiences cannot conceive of him as a man because he deviates from white cisheteronormative patriarchy.

This is not to say that interpreting any character as a minority should not be done. Representation is important ― we all know this. Personally, I would even welcome it as a gender-nonconforming nonbinary person myself. The way western fans go about it, however, only shows they do so through a western-centric, colonialist, and orientalist lens. The point, then, is not that he cannot be gender-nonconforming ― it is to change how western audiences interact with and interpret non-western media.

FOOTNOTES

I will henceforth refer to the series as CQL.

Think for example of how K-pop is becoming more and more mainstream by the day, and how anime and manga are as much part of pop culture as comics and cartoons.

A type of novel depicting the story of a young, rich, beautiful scholar and his female love interest.

Take, for example, Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhuge Liang from Romance of the Three Kingdoms; while all three are undoubtedly held up as paragons of masculinity and male role models even now, Guan Yu, being a martial god (thus epitomizing wu), and Zhuge Liang, being an unparalleled intellectual (thus epitomizing wen), both defer to Liu Bei, who embodies both parts of the wen-wu dichotomy equally, being an adept swordsman and an able strategizer.

This refers to Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang’s eldest brother and also Jin Guangyao’s eldest sworn brother. He was at the time the sect leader of Qinghe (where the Nie clan was based).

Long hair has long been a confucian ideal, and not gendered because of it. As one’s body is granted to them by their parents, and one has to pay respect to their elders, cutting hair is akin to desecrating the body and disrespecting one’s elders.

Beyond being explicitly stated in the text multiple times, the official artbook of the drama also reinforces this, as does Nie Huaisang’s propensity to quote poetry or waxing lyrical. One memorable line at the end of the series especially brings this home: 「这山川风物四时美景 真是无论看多久 都不会 觉得厌。我呢 是一个识趣的人 该我做的我不会假手他人 如果不该我做的 我也做不来。」(“These mountains and rivers, the scenery of all seasons – I really do feel that no matter how long I look , I won’t become bored of them. As for me, I’m a sensible man. For the things I should do, I won’t shirk. But for things that aren’t my business, I won’t meddle in.”)

After all, we have already established he conforms to Chinese standards of masculinity, and as a Chinese male character from a mainland Chinese production that was made primarily for Chinese-speaking audiences, that is honestly all the context needed to understand him as a character.

Wei Wuxian asks Nie Huaisang if he would ever have the intention to become head cultivator (i.e. leader of all the sects), and by answering thus, invoking scenic imagery and speaking in a higher register, which, yes, is in-character for him, also has an added layer. Reminiscent of Chinese dynastic succession struggles, unambitious siblings tended to throw themselves into the arts, poetry, and music, while eschewing politics and power plays in the hopes that their siblings who had ambitions for the throne would not kill them. Nie Huaisang, here, is conjuring up these same sentiments, hinting to Wei Wuxian that he is not scheming to be head cultivator by talking poetically, and further implicitly pleading with his old friend not to suspect his motives and not to kill him because of them.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

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Han, C. Winter. 2016. “From “Little Brown Brothers” to “Queer Asian Wives”: Constructing the Asian Male Body.” In Body Aesthetics, edited by Sherri Irvin, 60-80. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Han, Chong-suk. 2006. “Being an Oriental, I could Never Be Completely a Man: Gay Asian Men and the Intersection of Race, Gender, Sexuality, and Class.” Race, Gender & Class 13, no. 3/4 (2006): 82-97. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41675174.

Kam, Louie. 2016. Changing Chinese Masculinities: From Imperial Pillars of State to Global Real Men. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press.

Kam, Louie. 2015. Chinese Masculinities in a Globalizing World. New York: Routledge.

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Song, Geng. 2010. “Chinese Masculinities Revisited: Male Images in Contemporary Television Drama Serials.” Modern China 36, no. 4 (2010): 404-34. https://doi.org/10.1177/0097700410368221.

Song, Geng. 2004. The Fragile Scholar: Power and Masculinity in Chinese Culture. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press.