June 28, 2005

Dear Colleague,

    (I wrote the following letter to Jing Chen, a PhD candidate in the College of Resources Science and Technology, Beijing Normal University. I found her waiting for me in the hotel lobby at nine o'clock in the evening, with a letter requesting that I give her my impressions of the Three Gorges and the dam construction. "Would I be lucky enough to be the first person to read your thoughts about this huge human project?") Well, here they are--my impressions. Passing through the Three Gorges and then through the five locks, which took several hours, were the scenic highlights of June 11th. Given all the advance billing--the hype, as Americans say--and my awareness of the rise of water level, I had expected to be disappointed. But no. The gorges and the mountains that towered over them cast their magical spell, and I was lifted, despite myself, to another realm of being. Certain natural features in the world--for instance, the Grand Canyon and Yosemite in the United States--project such majesty that no amount of prior knowledge or expectation can dim them.

    The effect of knowledge on perception is ambivalent. If knowledge comes in the form of tourist brochures, postcards, and cheap photos, it could produce a feeling of unjustified familiarity that damages fresh perception in the presence of the real thing. But if it comes in the form of history, legend, poetry, and landscape art of a high order, the effect is bound to be enhancing. It was so for me even though I had only the meagerest knowledge of the battles that had been found there at the time of the Three Kingdoms (220-317), the stream of poems by top T'ang poets, and the flood of landscape paintings that exalt the mysticism of sky-piercing peaks, water falls, and mist.

    I am puzzled. I understand how the idea of a poet or painter wandering through these wilds, imparting to them the wistful music of humanity, can deepen their aura. But the noise of battle? Doesn't it detract from nature? Not apparently, if the sound of clashing swords and neighing horses were distant and faint, merging with the sound of soughing wind and chattering monkeys. Monumental nature like the Three Gorges--unlike peach blossoms that come and go--lacks poignancy. Maybe the memory of ancient battles and passions, now forever gone, lends it a touch of the bitter sweetness of the ephemeral. Now, isn't it the case that with the construction of the huge dam, even the Three Gorges--at least their geological grandeur--could slip into the past, showing them to be a creature of time? When the waters back up to their full height, the soaring cliffs will no longer quite soar, and the once turbulent river will become a placid lake. Civilization is excess and hubris. Chinese civilization is no exception.

    If power is at hand, it is used. One might say that the legend of Yu, conqueror of flood and found of Hsia dynasty, set a precedent for the Three-Gorge project at the very beginning of Chinese history. Yu's mighty effort to control nature was justified at the time by the benefits it bestowed on the people. No doubt the Three-Gorge project of today and tomorrow will be judged likewise.

Best wishes,

Yi-Fu