Grain and Fire as Autumn: The Severance of Heaven and Earth and the Onset of Solemn Killing at Liqiu
This article offers an in-depth interpretation of Liqiu (Start of Autumn) among the Twenty-Four Solar Terms, drawing on pre-Qin Confucian and Daoist philosophy, the original meanings of Chinese characters, and astronomical-phenological perspectives. By examining the etymological roots of 'qiu' (autumn) as grain-and-fire, the astronomical coordinate of 135° solar longitude, and the image of Hexagram Pi (Standstill) from the Yijing — 'Heaven and Earth do not interact' — it reveals Liqiu as the pivotal moment when all things shift from 'growth' to 'gathering,' illuminating the virtue of Metal, the onset of solemn killing, and the ancient roots of the autumnal grief tradition.
Chapter Fourteen: Autumn in the Shijing and Chuci — A Literary World of Severity and Tender Emotion
I. Autumn in the Shijing: From Phenology to Emotion
In the Shijing, autumn first appears as "substantial autumn" (shi zhi qiu) — closely tied to agriculture and phenology. "Binfeng: Qi yue" ("Seventh Month") depicts autumn's astronomy and fieldwork in plain, tangible terms. But autumn in the Shijing also begins to carry emotion: "Qinfeng: Jianjia" fuses autumn's cold (white dew, frost) with the ache of unrequited longing; "Xiaoya: Si yue" directly expresses autumn's bleakness as an emblem of the age's sorrow. From "substantial autumn" to "emotional autumn," the Shijing traces an evolution from concrete to abstract, from scene to feeling.
II. Autumn in the Chuci: Sorrow's Extreme and Nobility's Steadfastness
If the Shijing's autumn is plain and restrained, the Chuci's autumn is intense and extreme. The Chuci drives autumn's melancholy to its utmost, while infusing that melancholy with an unyielding nobility of character.
Lisao: "The sun and moon pass swiftly and do not linger; spring and autumn succeed each other in their course. Seeing the grass and trees wither and fall, I fear that the beauty will grow old." Here, the flow of time and the withering of autumn directly provoke the deep dread of aging.
Jiu Ge, "Xiang furen" ("Lady of the Xiang"): "Gently, gently blows the autumn wind; the waves of Dongting rise, and the tree leaves fall." These ten characters — autumn wind, waves, falling leaves — create an atmosphere of desolation, emptiness, and tender sorrow that has been recited through the ages.
The greatness of the Chuci's autumn lies not only in pushing sorrow to its extreme but in maintaining noble constancy within that sorrow. Qu Yuan, even amid the dual desolation of autumn's twilight and Chu's peril, declared: "This too is what my heart holds dear; though I die nine times, I shall not regret."
III. "Grass and Trees Shake Loose": The Formation of Autumn's Core Image
The image that recurs most persistently across the Shijing and Chuci and ultimately crystallizes as autumn's essential symbol is "grass and trees shaking loose" (caomu yaoluo). This image became autumn's core not only because it is the most vivid, universal natural phenomenon of the season, but because it most powerfully evokes sympathetic resonance with human mortality. Furthermore, it contains the dialectical wisdom of "the extreme of obstruction yields tranquility" — falling leaves are not death but the return of nutrients to roots, the preparation for next spring's renewal.