Chapter One: Introduction -- Why Music Has "Imagery"

Section 1: The Meaning of "Xiang": The Original Context of the Concept in Pre-Qin Thought

Whenever one studies pre-Qin texts, among the characters whose meaning must first be clarified, xiang (imagery/phenomenon/resemblance) surely ranks foremost. Modern readers typically understand xiang as "image," "symbol," or "mental image," yet these are all products of later differentiation and are not the original meaning of xiang in the pre-Qin period. To understand the four characters sheng yue zhi xiang ("the imagery of music"), one must first trace xiang back to its earliest sense, lest one anachronistically impose later glosses upon an ancient text.

The most archaic meaning of xiang appears in oracle-bone inscriptions, where the character is a pictograph of an elephant -- with its long trunk, enormous ears, and four legs -- derived directly from the living creature. Although the Shuowen Jiezi is a Han-dynasty work, many of the character forms it records preserve vestiges of high antiquity. Xu Shen glosses xiang as "a beast with a long trunk and tusks, native to the southern regions." This is the original meaning: the concrete animal, the elephant. Yet how did the name of a particular animal evolve into one of the most important categories in pre-Qin philosophy$3

The key to this evolution lies in the connotation of "patterning after" inherent in xiang. The elephant's immense size and distinctive form made a deep impression on the ancients, who consequently extended xiang to mean "form" or "appearance." The Shangshu (Book of Documents), in the "Charge to Yue," contains such usages, and there is also the expression "Heaven suspends its images (xiang) and reveals fortune and misfortune," where xiang no longer refers to the physical animal but to celestial phenomena -- the visible forms and portents displayed by Heaven.

The Xici Zhuan (Commentary on the Appended Phrases) of the Yijing (Book of Changes) says:

"The sage perceived the profound patterns of all under heaven, fashioned likenesses of their forms and appearances, and gave images (xiang) to what was fitting for each thing -- therefore these are called xiang."

And again:

"For models and images, none are greater than heaven and earth; for transformation and continuity, none surpass the four seasons; for suspended images shining with brilliance, none surpass the sun and moon."

And again:

"In heaven, patterns become images (xiang); on earth, they become forms (xing); and so transformation and change become manifest."

These passages distill the essence of the pre-Qin theory of xiang. Xiang is neither mere outward appearance nor pure subjective invention: it is the collective term for the forms, patterns, and portents naturally displayed by heaven, earth, and the myriad things. When the sage "observes the images," he perceives through the visible forms of all things their inner principle. Xiang is the bridge between inner and outer, form and spirit, phenomenon and essence.

The hexagram images and line images of the Yijing are precisely the use of a finite set of symbols (yin and yang lines) to model the infinite transformations of heaven, earth, and all things. The eight trigrams -- Qian as heaven, Kun as earth, Zhen as thunder, Xun as wind, Kan as water, Li as fire, Gen as mountain, Dui as marsh -- are all xiang. Such xiang are neither abstract concepts nor concrete objects, but something in between: "categorical images" that use the distinctive quality of one thing to represent the shared nature of an entire class.

When Master Xun speaks of "the imagery of music" (sheng yue zhi xiang), how then should we understand this xiang$4

The xiang in "the imagery of music" carries forward the tradition of "image-taking" (qu xiang) from the Yijing onward. Master Xun does not mean the "shape" of music -- for music has no visible shape. Nor does he mean the "symbolism" of music -- that is a later, derived sense. What Master Xun means by xiang is the character, temperament, and effect that music presents: the inner quality conveyed through sound, perceptible and apprehensible to the human spirit. Here, xiang is the "virtue" of music, its "nature," its "character" -- described in the most distilled language, capturing the quality each instrument and each form of musical performance manifests.

Why not simply say "the nature of music" (sheng yue zhi xing) or "the virtue of music" (sheng yue zhi de), opting instead for xiang$5 The question is deeply significant. "Nature" and "virtue" emphasize internal essence, whereas xiang encompasses both inner and outer -- it is at once the outward manifestation of inner quality and the inner quality intimated by outward form. The wonder of music lies precisely in its use of external sound to present internal character, transmitting through audible tones what cannot be seen. The word xiang precisely captures this distinctive property of music: conveying meaning through sound, revealing virtue through resonance.

Furthermore, the use of xiang carries an implicit cosmological dimension. The passage that follows -- "the drum resembles Heaven, the bell resembles Earth, the chime-stone resembles Water" -- maps the xiang of instruments onto the xiang of heaven, earth, and the myriad things, constructing a grand system in which the hierarchy of instruments corresponds to the schema of the cosmos. This is no accident. In pre-Qin thought, xiang is inherently the intermediary linking human affairs to the Way of Heaven. The Xici Zhuan (Part Two) of the Yijing states:

"In ancient times, when Lord Baoxi (Fuxi) ruled all under heaven, he looked upward and observed the images in heaven, looked downward and observed the patterns on earth, observed the markings of birds and beasts and the features of the terrain, took models from near at hand in his own person and from far afield in other things, and thereupon first made the eight trigrams, so as to penetrate the virtue of the spirits and classify the conditions of all things."

Lord Baoxi's observation of images used the xiang of heaven, earth, and the myriad things as his medium to connect "the virtue of the spirits" with "the conditions of all things." Master Xun, in titling his passage "the imagery of music," likewise employs the xiang of music as a medium linking the sounds of instruments to the great Way of heaven and earth. This line of thought runs through the entire passage.

Section 2: How "Music" (Sheng Yue) Differs from "Sound" (Yin) and "Music" (Yue)

Pre-Qin texts on music frequently employ three terms -- sheng (sound/voice), yin (tone), and yue (music) -- and here Master Xun uses the compound sheng yue, rather than yin yue or yue alone. Is there a meaningful distinction$6

The Yueji (Record of Music) in the Liji (Book of Rites) offers a supremely precise analysis:

"All tones arise from the human heart. The movements of the heart are caused by external things. Stirred by things, the heart moves and takes form as sound (sheng). When sounds respond to one another, they generate variation; when variation achieves pattern, it is called tone (yin). When tones are arranged into melodies accompanied by shields, axes, plumes, and pennants, this is called music (yue)."

This passage draws a strict hierarchical distinction among the three:

• Sheng (sound): The primordial vocal emission when the heart is stirred by things -- unorganized, unsystematized. Any natural sound or human cry may be called sheng.
• Yin (tone): Sound organized through variation into patterned, regulated sonority -- "variation achieves pattern." The system of the five pitches (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu) and the twelve pitch-pipes belongs to the domain of yin.
• Yue (music): Tones organized into complete compositions, accompanied by shields, axes, plumes, and pennants (dance and ritual), forming a comprehensive performance -- this is yue.

Why, then, does Master Xun join sheng and yue into the compound sheng yue$7

A careful examination of the original passage reveals that "the imagery of music" encompasses: drums, bells, chime-stones, mouth-organs, sheng, panpipes, tubes, flutes, ocarinas, chi-flutes, se-zithers, and qin-zithers -- all instrumental music, belonging to the domain of yin or yue; song -- vocal music, intermediate between sheng and yin; and dance -- bodily movement, the highest form of yue. Master Xun uses the compound sheng yue to encompass all of these, for sheng emphasizes the auditory-sonic dimension (including both instrumental sound and the singing voice), while yue emphasizes the comprehensive art form (including dance as an integral performance). Only by combining the two can the entire content of the passage be covered.

This is not casual word choice but a precise summation. What Master Xun discusses here involves both the sonic character of individual instruments (the dimension of sheng) and the holistic meaning of music and dance (the dimension of yue); hence the compound sheng yue is most apt.

And why not use the character yin$8 Because in the pre-Qin context, yin leans toward organized, systematized sonic structures -- the five pitches and twelve pitch-pipes -- and is a more technical concept. What Master Xun discusses here is not a matter of musical technique but of musical character and spirit; hence sheng rather than yin better accords with the meaning of xiang.

Moreover, the overarching purpose of Xunzi's entire "Discourse on Music" is to demonstrate the social function and civilizing value of music, not to discuss musical technique. Master Xun's concern is not how the five pitches generate one another or how the twelve pitch-pipes modulate -- those are questions of tuning theory -- but how the character manifested by music as a whole corresponds to heaven and earth, and how it relates to human affairs. The title "imagery of music" (sheng yue zhi xiang) precisely serves this aim.

Section 3: The Position of the "Discourse on Music" in Master Xun's Thought

Master Xun's philosophy takes ritual (li) as its core, the capacity for social organization (qun) as its foundation, and "transforming nature through conscious effort" (hua xing qi wei) as its method. To understand the deeper meaning of the "imagery of music" passage, one must first grasp the position of the "Discourse on Music" within Master Xun's broader thought.

On human nature, Master Xun advocates the doctrine that "human nature is evil." The "Xing E" (Human Nature Is Evil) chapter of the Xunzi states:

"Human nature is evil; whatever is good in people is the result of conscious effort (wei). By nature, people are born with a fondness for profit; if they follow this, contention and robbery arise while deference and yielding perish. By nature, people are born with envy and hatred; if they follow these, cruelty and villainy arise while loyalty and trustworthiness perish. By nature, people are born with desires of the ears and eyes, with a fondness for beautiful sounds and sights; if they follow these, licentiousness and disorder arise while ritual, propriety, and refined patterns perish."

Among the innate tendencies of human nature is "a fondness for beautiful sounds and sights" -- the desire for pleasing sounds and beautiful sights is a natural appetite. If this appetite is indulged without restraint, "licentiousness and disorder arise while ritual, propriety, and refined patterns perish." Must music, then -- an activity that directly gratifies the desires of ears and eyes -- be rejected in Master Xun's thought$9

The answer is no. Master Xun does not reject music; rather, he would guide and moderate it with "ritual and propriety" (li yi), making it a tool of moral cultivation rather than a vehicle for indulgence. The "Discourse on Music" opens with a programmatic declaration:

"Music (yue) is joy (le) -- it is something that human feelings inevitably require. Therefore, people cannot be without joy. When they are joyful, it must find expression in sound and movement, for such is the human way: sound, movement, and the transformations of one's natural disposition are wholly encompassed therein. Therefore, people cannot be without joy; when joyful, they cannot be without expression; and when expression is not guided by the Way (dao), there will inevitably be disorder. The former kings abhorred such disorder, and so they fashioned the sounds of the Elegantiae and Hymns to guide the people."

Several layers of meaning emerge here:

First, "music is joy" -- music just is happiness, an inevitable part of human feeling that cannot be abolished. This directly opposes the position of Master Mo (Mozi), who argued against music.

Second, "people cannot be without joy" -- human beings must have happiness, and happiness must find expression. This acknowledges the natural human need.

Third, "when expression is not guided by the Way, there will inevitably be disorder" -- if the expression of joy is not guided by the Way, chaos results. This is a critique of pure indulgence.

Fourth, "the former kings abhorred such disorder, and so they fashioned the sounds of the Elegantiae and Hymns to guide the people" -- the sage-kings created refined music to guide the people's joy in accordance with the Way. This is the civilizing function of music.

In Master Xun's thought, therefore, music possesses a dual nature: it is both the satisfaction of a natural human desire and a potential instrument for the moral cultivation of the human heart. The key lies in guiding and moderating it through ritual. The "Discourse on Music" and the "Discourse on Ritual" are companion pieces in Master Xun's writings; together they constitute his complete theory of "transforming nature through ritual and music."

The Xunzi's "Discourse on Music" further states:

"Music is what the sage delights in, and it can make the hearts of the people good. So deeply does it move people, so profoundly does it transform customs, that the former kings guided the people with ritual and music and the people became harmonious and content."

"So deeply does it move people, so profoundly does it transform customs" -- the power of music lies in its direct action upon human emotion, imperceptibly transforming temperament and disposition. This reaches far deeper than mere legal prohibitions. Ritual regulates conduct from without; music transforms the heart from within. The two complement each other.

Where, then, does the "imagery of music" passage stand within the "Discourse on Music" as a whole$10 It appears in the latter portion, after Master Xun has discussed the social function of music and refuted Master Mo's arguments against it, and turns to describe the character and cosmological significance of music's concrete content -- each instrument, song, and dance. This is the pivotal passage in which the discussion shifts from "the function of music" to "the substance of music," and it is the most poetic and philosophically profound portion of the entire chapter.

Section 4: Perspectives and Methods of This Study

This study unfolds from three perspectives:

First, close reading. The original text of "the imagery of music" is glossed character by character and phrase by phrase, clarifying the precise meaning of each instrument's character-description and tracing its linguistic and cultural background. This foundational work is indispensable.

Second, the Confucian perspective. Taking the Confucian music theory of the Master (Kongzi) and Master Xun as the main thread, we explore the ideas of ritual music, moral cultivation, and social order embedded in "the imagery of music." Primary texts are widely cited from the Lunyu (Analects), Mengzi, Xunzi, the Yueji of the Liji, the Zhouli, the Yili, the Zuozhuan, and other canonical works for corroboration and resonance.

Third, the Daoist and archaic perspectives. Taking the music theories of the Most High (Laozi) and Master Zhuang (Zhuangzi) as counterpoints, we explore the relationship between music and the Way (Dao). At the same time, we delve into the background of archaic myth, shamanic tradition, and sacrificial ritual, tracing the primordial cultural significance of each instrument and the original connection between music and the spirits of heaven and earth. Texts such as the Shanhaijing (Classic of Mountains and Seas), Chuci (Songs of the South), Zhuangzi, and Lushi Chunqiu (Springs and Autumns of Master Lu) are widely cited.

In citing these texts, this study follows the principle of "resonance" rather than "comparison." By "resonance," we mean that different texts share relations of intellectual sympathy, echo, and mutual illumination, rather than simple similarity or difference. Although the various masters of the pre-Qin era each had their own central tenets, they inhabited a common cultural tradition, and their ideas often share deep affinities. This study aims to reveal those affinities rather than to manufacture oppositions.