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Shanzhai Deconstruction in Chinese Byung-Chul Han
Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Byung-Chul Han
ISBN(s): 9780262534369, 0262534363
Edition: Bilingual
File Details: PDF, 3.03 MB
Year: 2017
Language: english
Shanzhai

⼭寨
 Untimely Meditations

1. The Agony of Eros

Byung-Chul Han
2. On Hitler’s Mein Kampf: The Poetics of National Socialism Albrecht
Koschorke
3. In the Swarm: Digital Prospects
Byung-Chul Han
4. The Terror of Evidence
Marcus Steinweg
5. All and Nothing: A Digital Apocalypse
Martin Burckhardt and Dirk Höfer
6. Positive Nihilism: My Confrontation with Heidegger Hartmut Lange
7. Inconsistencies
Marcus Steinweg
8. Shanzhai: Deconstruction in Chinese
Byung-Chul Han
 The MIT Press

Boston, Massachusetts

London, England
translated by Philippa Hurd

Byung-Chul Han
Shanzhai
Deconstruction in Chinese

⼭寨
This translation © 2017 Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Originally published as Shanzhai: Dekonstruktion auf Chinesisch,

© 2011 Merve Verlag Berlin. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or
mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval)
without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN: 978-0-262-53436-9
EPUB Version 1.0
Contents
Quan: Law
Zhen ji: Original
Xian zhan: Seals of Leisure
Fuzhi: Copy
Shanzhai: Fake
Notes
Illustration Credits
Quan: Law

It is Hegel, no less, who ascribes to the Chinese an

innate tendency to lie. He accuses them of “great
immorality.” In China, he claims, there is no honor.
The Chinese are “notorious for deceiving wherever
they can.” 1 Hegel is astonished that no one resents
this, even if the deception comes to light. The Chinese
act, Hegel continues, “astutely and craftily,” so
Europeans have to be cautious when dealing with
them. Hegel finds no logical explanation for this
“consciousness of moral abandonment.” As a result he
traces it back to Buddhism, which regards “as the
Highest and Absolute—as God—pure Nothing,” and
considers “contempt for individuality … as the highest
perfection.” Thus Hegel assumes a nihilistic
nothingness in the negativity of the Buddhist notion of
emptiness. For example, he holds it responsible for the
“great immorality” of the Chinese. Hegel clearly
thinks that nihilistic nothingness accepts no reliability,
no finality, no constancy. According to Hegel, the
opposite of this nihilistic nothingness is the god who
stands for truth and truthfulness.

In reality, emptiness in Chinese Buddhism means the negativity of

decreation (Ent-schöpfung) and absence (Ab-wesen). It empties out
and desubstantializes Being (Sein). Essence (Wesen, ousia) is what is
permanent, 2 underlying all change and transience as that which
remains the same. 3 The belief in substantive immutability and
constancy determines Western ideas of both moral subjectivity and
normative objectivity. By contrast, Chinese philosophy is deconstruc-
tivist from the outset, to the extent that it breaks radically with Being
and essence. The Tao (literally, “the way” or “the path”) also presents a
counterfigure to Being or essence. It embraces change, while essence
resists transformation. The negativity of decreation and absence
empties out Being in the process or way that has neither beginning nor
end.
With its unrelenting metamorphoses, process also dominates the
Chinese awareness of time and history. For example, transformation
takes place not as a series of events or eruptions, but discreetly,
imperceptibly, and continually. Any kind of creation that occurred at
one absolute, unique point would be inconceivable. Discontinuity is a
characteristic of time based on events. The event marks a rupture that
breaches the continuum of change. Ruptures or revolutions, however,
are alien to the Chinese awareness of time. This is why Chinese
thought does not appreciate ruins. It does not recognize the kind of
identity that is based on a unique event. 4 To this end it does not accept
the idea of the original, as originality assumes a beginning in the
emphatic sense. Not creation with an absolute beginning, but continual
process without beginning or end, without birth or death, defines
Chinese thought. For this reason neither death in the emphatic sense,
as in Heidegger’s work, nor birth in the emphatic sense, as in the
writings of Hannah Arendt, 5 arises in Far Eastern thinking.
 Being desubstantializes itself and becomes a path. Heidegger also
often uses the image of the path. But his path is fundamentally
different from the Taoist path, as the former does not progress but
rather deepens. Heidegger’s famous “forest paths” are paths that
“mostly overgrown … come to an abrupt stop where the wood is
untrodden.” The Chinese path, by contrast, is flat, continually changing
course without stopping “abruptly,” without going deeper into the
“untrodden” or approaching the “mystery.” Neither the notion of
abruptness nor of depth plays a significant role in Chinese thought.
The ancient Greek word for the impassable or inaccessible is
adyton. The adyton is the inner space of an ancient Greek temple
containing the sanctum, which is completely closed off from the
outside. This separation, the sharp caesura, distinguishes what is holy.
This windowless enclosure, inaccessible depth, or inwardness is alien
to Far Eastern thinking. A defining characteristic of the Buddhist
temple is in fact its penetrability, being open on all sides. Some
temples actually consist almost entirely of doors and windows that
shut nothing off. There is no adyton in Chinese thought. Nothing
separates itself, nothing shuts itself off. Nothing is ab-solute, that is, in
itself detached and separate. The original itself is a variety of this
separation and shutting off. We might also say that the adyton
contributes to the constitution of originality and authenticity.
Chinese thought is pragmatic in a specific sense. It does not trace
essence or origin, but rather the changeable constellations of things
(pragmata). It is a question of recognizing the changeable course of
things, correlating with it situationally, and deriving benefits from it.
Chinese thought distrusts fixed, invariable essences or principles. To
Hegel, this suppleness or adaptiveness, which traces back to the lack of
essence, to emptiness, clearly seems cunning, insincere, and immoral.
Ren quan ( ⼈ 權 ) is the Chinese term for human rights. The
character quan contains a semantic range that gives the Chinese notion
of law or rights a special cast. In particular it lacks any notion of
finality, absoluteness, or invariability. Literally quan means the weight
that can be slid back and forth on a sliding-weight scale. Thus in the
first place quan means to weigh or assess. It has no fixed, final
position. Rather, it is moveable, adjustable, and provisional, like the
sliding weight on the scale. It changes its position according to the
weight of its counterpart in order to achieve balance. As a law it is
balancing, not excluding or ostracizing. Exclusiveness is alien to it. Of
course, Chinese thought is also familiar with the regularities of
conventional norms (jing, 經 ), 6 but at the same time it is strongly
influenced by the awareness of continuous change. In Zhu Xi we find
the following saying (chang ze shou jing, bian zu cong quan, 常則守
經 , 變 則 ⽤ 權 ): “Under normal conditions we adhere to the rules of
convention, but in times of change we use quan.” 7
Quan describes the ability to adapt to changing circumstances and to
profit from this. For example, quan yi zhi ji ( 權 宜 之 計 ) means a
tactical, appropriate course of action. Quan describes the potential
inherent in a situation rather than a set of rules that remains the same,
independent of conditions and situation. In the context of quan,
nothing is final. This layer of meaning to quan necessarily inscribes
the ideas of both relativity and situativity into the Chinese notions of
law and human rights. Equally, power (權⼒, quan li) is different from
strength ( ⼒ , li); unlike the latter, power represents not a static but
rather a constellative factor. The person who makes use of and exploits
situative and constellative potential gains power. Power belongs not to
subjectivity but to situativity, that is, it depends on the situation.
Moreover, the character quan is used both in the Chinese concept of
intellectual property (zhi shi chan quan, 知識產權) and in the concept
of copyright (zhu zuo quan, 著 作 權 ). Consequently, these concepts
also are indelibly inscribed with a notion of relativity or provisionality,
at least in their semantic dimension. Zhi (智) is the Chinese character
for wisdom. This character, which is related to the character for
knowledge ( 知 ) used in the concept of intellectual property, means
cunning, tactical skills, or a strategic course of action, as well as
wisdom. 8 Thus the Chinese notion of wisdom is radically different
from the Western conception of truth or truthfulness, which is based on
immutability and constancy. This conception is deconstructed by the
relativity and situativity of quan. For the ponderousness of Being,
Chinese thought substitutes the sliding weight of quan; gravitation is
replaced by situation.
 Zhen ji: Original

真跡

In a letter of December 6, 1896, Freud wrote to

Wilhelm Fliess: “I am working on the assumption that
our psychical mechanism has come about by a process
of stratification: the material present in the shape of
memory-traces is from time to time subjected to a
rearrangement in accordance with fresh circumstances
—is, as it were, transcribed. Thus what is essentially
new in my theory is the thesis that memory is present
not once but several times over, that it is registered in
various species of ‘signs.’” 1 Accordingly, memory
images are not immutable representations of what has
been experienced. Rather, they are products of
complex construction by the psychic apparatus, and
thus are subject to continual change. New
constellations and connections are always arising to
alter their appearance. In this the psychic apparatus
follows a complex temporal movement, in which later
events also reshape earlier ones. Past, present, and
future interfuse within the psychic apparatus. Freud’s
theory of transcription casts doubt on the theory of
representation that assumes that experienced scenes
are recorded unaltered in the mind and can even be
recalled in identical form after a long period of time.
These memories are not representations that always
remain the same, but traces that intersect and overlap.

In classical Chinese the original is called zhen ji ( 真 跡 ). Literally

this means the “authentic trace.” This is a particular trace, as it does
not follow a teleological path. And there is no promise inherent in it. It
is associated neither with anything enigmatic nor kerygmatic.
Moreover, it does not condense into a clear, monomorphic presence.
Rather, it deconstructs the idea of any such original that embodies an
unmistakable, immutable, centered presence and identity. 2
Processuality and differentiality give the trace a deconstructive,
centrifugal force. The trace does not tolerate any completed, centered
work of art that might possess a final form and avoid any change. Its
difference to itself does not allow the artwork to come to a standstill
whereby it could achieve its final shape. Thus the trace always lets the
artwork differ from itself. The Chinese notion of the original as trace
(ji, 跡 ) contains the structure of the Freudian “memory-trace” that is
subject to continual rearrangement and transcription. The Chinese idea
of the original is determined not by a unique act of creation, but by
unending process, not by definitive identity but by constant change.
Indeed, change does not take place within the soul of an artistic
subjectivity. The trace effaces the artistic subjectivity, replacing it with
a process that allows no essentialist positing.
The Far East is not familiar with such pre-deconstructive factors as
original, origin, or identity. Rather, Far Eastern thought begins with
deconstruction. Being as a fundamental concept of Western thought is
something that resembles only itself, and that tolerates no reproduction
outside itself. Plato’s banishment of mimesis is a direct result of this
conception of Being. According to Plato the beautiful or the good is
something immutable that resembles only itself. It is monomorphic
(monoeides). Thus it allows no variation. In every reproduction, this
notion of Being sees something demonic that destroys original identity
and purity. The notion of the original is already outlined in the Platonic
Idea. A lack of Being is inherent in every image. By contrast, the basic
figure in Chinese thought is not the monomorphic, unique Being but
the multiform, multilayered process.
Ni Zan, Dwelling amid Water and Bamboo.

A Chinese masterpiece never remains the same in itself. The more it

is admired, the more its appearance changes. It is regularly overwritten
by connoisseurs and collectors. They inscribe themselves into the work
by means of inscriptions and seals. In this way inscriptions are layered
upon the work like memory-traces in the psychic apparatus. The work
itself is subject to continual change and permanent transcription. It is
not static. Rather, it is fluid. The trace makes it fluid. The trace is
opposed to presence. The work empties itself out to become a
generative, communicative locus of inscriptions. 3 The more famous a
work is, the more inscriptions it has. It presents itself as a palimpsest.
Not just individual works but an artist’s entire oeuvre is subject to
transformation as well. The oeuvre changes constantly. It shrinks and
grows. New pictures suddenly turn up to fill it, and pictures that were
once ascribed to a master’s oeuvre disappear. For example, the oeuvre
of the famous master Dong Yuan looks different in the Ming dynasty
from how it looked during the Song dynasty, with even forgeries or
replicas defining a master’s image. A temporal inversion occurs. The
subsequent or retrospective defines the origin. Thus the inversion
deconstructs it. The oeuvre is a large lacuna or construction site that is
always filling up with new contents and new pictures. We might also
say: the greater a master, the emptier his oeuvre. He is a signifier
without identity, who is always being loaded with new significance.
The origin turns out to be a retrospective construction. 4
Adorno too sees the artwork not as a static, fixed, im-mutable
construction, but as something spiritual and alive that is able to
change. For example, he writes about Wagner: “But what has changed
about Wagner … is not merely his impact on others, but his work
itself, in itself. … As spiritual entities, works of art are not complete in
themselves. They create a magnetic field of all possible intentions and
forces, of inner tendencies and countervailing ones. … Objectively,
new layers are constantly detaching themselves, emerging from within;
others grow irrelevant and die off. One relates to a work of art not
merely, as is often said, by adapting it to fit a new situation, but rather
by deciphering within it things to which one has a historically different
reaction.” 5 Here the artwork is presented like a living creature that
grows, sheds its skin, and transforms itself. However, the change is
founded not in the external “situation” but in the inner essence that lies
at the heart of the work. Adorno explicitly distances himself from the
kind of change in the self that is due to a situation. In addition,
according to Adorno, the artwork is a changing or shape-shifting body
(Wandlungsleib) that is, however, not subjected to change, but changes
itself from within. The inner richness and inner depth of the work
make it living and adaptable. It is characterized by inexhaustible
fullness and unfathomable depth. They inspire it to become a living
organism. Its richness develops independent of the situation. By
contrast, the Chinese artwork is in itself empty and flat. It is without
soul and truth. The desubstantializing emptiness opens it up for
inscriptions and transcriptions. Thus even the oeuvre of a Chinese
master is capable of transformation, as it is in itself empty. It is not the
inwardness of the essence but the outwardness of the tradition or the
situation that drives change onward.
Not only a master’s style, but his subject matter, too, changes all the
time. Each era visualizes the master differently. For example, it is quite
possible for the master’s true originals to be removed from his oeuvre,
while forgeries that suit contemporary taste are included, thus making
an impact on art history. In this case, the forgeries have more art-
historical value than true originals. Indeed, they are more original than
the originals. The aesthetic preferences of an era, the prevailing
contemporary tastes influence a master’s oeuvre. Pictures treating
subjects that are not fashionable are forgotten, while pictures of
preferred subjects proliferate. For example, if an era is characterized
by a love of folklore, pictures with folkloric motifs turn up more
frequently in Dong Yuan’s oeuvre. The quiet transformations of his
oeuvre follow the various requirements of the time. In the Ming
dynasty, for instance, when merchants played an important role in art
as patrons, a new motif suddenly appeared in Dong Yuan’s pictures:
that of the dealer. 6 Forgeries and replicas are constantly transforming
oeuvres.
In ancient Chinese artistic practice, learning takes place specifically
through copying. 7 Moreover, copying is considered a sign of respect
toward the master. One studies, praises, and admires a work by
copying it. Copying is the same as praising. Indeed, this practice is not
unknown in European art. Gauguin’s copy of a work by Manet is a
declaration of love. Van Gogh’s imitations of Hiroshige are
expressions of admiration. It is well known that Cézanne often visited
the Louvre to copy the Old Masters. Earlier Delacroix had regretted
the fact that the practice of copying, which he considered to be an
essential, inexhaustible source of knowledge for Old Masters such as
Raphael, Dürer, or Rubens, was being increasingly neglected. The cult
of originality relegates this practice, which is essential to the creative
process, to the background. In reality, creation is not a sudden event,
but a slow process, one that demands a long and intense engagement
with what has been, in order to create from it. In this sense, creation is
primarily the act of creating. The construct of the original spirits away
what has been, the prior entity from which it is created.

Édouard Manet, Olympia.

Copy by Paul Gauguin.
Hiroshige, The Plum Garden in Kameido.
Copy by Van Gogh.
Hiroshige, Sudden Shower over Shin-Ōhashi Bridge and Atake.
Copy by Van Gogh.

It was of no small importance for a painter’s career in China to get a

forgery of an Old Master into the collection of a well-known
connoisseur. He who succeeds in such a forgery of a master’s work
gains great recognition, as it provides proof of his ability. For the
connoisseur who authenticated his forgery, the forger is equal to the
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
 Where rocks and where sandbanks and whirlpools
abound,
And barks are hurled onward, we there shall be found.”

When the Spirits ceased speaking they dispersed, with a

loud rushing sound, in all directions, while the Kings of the
Sea, the Islands, and Rocks, retired with a more dignified
pace, and the vast hall was left, as before, in solitude and
silence.
 Story 6--Chapter IV.
The seas were, in those days, infested by a band of pirates,
who were possessed of several large ships, with which they
defied all efforts to destroy them. The chief of the pirates
was called Don Alonzo. Though very blood-thirsty and
wicked, for he robbed all he met, and spared no one who
made any resistance, he was very brave, and young, and
handsome; indeed, on looking at him, few would believe
that he could commit the crimes of which he was guilty. It
happened that his ship, having separated from her consorts,
was sailing across the Pacific.

Now, as Borasco was returning from Neptune’s conclave to

his own palace, he espied her in the far distance floating
calmly on the waves. He soon knew her to be the ship of
the pirate Alonzo, and instantly summoning all his wildest
spirits to his aid, a violent tempest began to rage, and thus
the Spirit of the Storm sang, as, riding on his foam-crested
steed, he followed the doomed bark:—

“’Tis now that the billows are covered with foam—

’Tis now my wild spirit rejoices to roam,
When waves tossing high with dark clouds are at play,
To dim the pale moon with their bright frothy spray;
When loud-rolling thunder resounds thro’ the skies,
And fast through the night air the northern mist flies;
Oh! now is the time when my spirit is free,
And wildly I ride o’er the fathomless sea.

“Yon tempest-toss’d vessel before me now flies,

And loudly I echo the mariners’ cries,
As sadly they gaze on the breakers before,
Which madly leap over the iron-bound shore,
 When hope has deserted, and, pallid with fear,
The stoutest heart trembles at death drawing near.
Oh! now is the time I shout loudest with glee,
And gaily ride over the foam-covered sea.”

Onward sailed the sea-robbers, thoughtless of coming

danger, when suddenly the gentle breeze, which had
hitherto been wafting them on their course, rose to a
furious gale. Over the ship heeled to its rage. The tall masts
bent and cracked, and one by one, with crash upon crash,
they were carried away, till the ship drove before the
tempest a helpless wreck on the waste of waters. The wild
cries of the seamen, as they saw their doom approach, rose
above the shrieks of the sea-bird, or the mocking laughter
of the Spirits of the Storm. Their chief alone stood
undaunted, youth in his eye, and manly vigour in every
limb; though the lightning flashed around his head—though
the foaming billows washed over the frail planks on which
his feet were planted, and death with all its horrors frowned
upon him.

On, on drove the ship—dark clouds above, the yawning

waves below—till the land (it was the Island of Gracia), at
that part fringed with sharp, threatening rocks, appeared
ahead. On she went. The eager waves leaped round her;
they lifted her to their summit, and then down she came,
crashing upon the rocks. Her timbers were riven asunder
and scattered far and wide, and of the human beings who
lately trod her deck but one alone was washed on shore,
and from his body life had departed, though it was
uninjured, either by the rocks or shattered planks and
spars. It was that of Alonzo, the captain of the pirate crew.
No sooner did Borasco behold the work which his powers
had accomplished, than he hastened to the beach, and
there he found, stretched on the sand, the body of the
pirate. He looked at it delighted, for the form was very
handsome; and though life was gone, it yet retained its
warmth. High rocks surrounded the spot, so that no human
being could observe what was happening. A voice (it
seemed to come from the air) then uttered, in an awful
tone, the following spell:—

“Dark form! my mystic words obey,

To thin air vanish, haste away!
Go, wander o’er the boundless main,
Nor dare this shape resume again,
Till by dark spells of potent might,
I summon thee to re-unite.”

As he spoke the hideous form began gradually to expand

into vast proportions, growing each moment more mist-like
and indistinct. Signs of animation now returned to the body
of Alonzo, who speedily arose, and while he waved his arm,
the shape Borasco had lately worn mingled with the
surrounding atmosphere, till it finally disappeared like a
mist blown off from the sea.

Alonzo, or rather Alonzo’s form animated by Borasco’s spirit,

walked slowly on, for he felt weary, as a person does who
has long buffeted with the waves, for with the form so he
partook in a measure of the human feelings of the pirate.
His nature, however, in other respects was not altered; his
love for Serena was rather increased than lost, and he was
still the same bold Spirit he had before been, with the same
power, only softened and refined by the magic influence of
love.

He looked into a mirror-like pool of water among the rocks,

and there, seeing his new figure reflected, he drew himself
up, and stretching out his arms proudly, he exclaimed, “Ah,
I now look like a man indeed; I feel the life-blood rush
fleetly through my veins, my pulses beat steadily; methinks
when the maiden sees me she will not fly from me as she
did before. Ah, now in truth I have a chance of winning her.
Thanks, thanks, mighty Neptune! for the aid you have
afforded me. The dawn approaches; she will soon be here!
and then once more, lovely Princess! I shall again behold
thy matchless beauty.” As he spoke a few faint streaks, the
harbingers of the rising sun, appeared, in the eastern sky,
the wind went down, and the sea grew perfectly smooth.

After wandering along the sea beach for some distance to

stretch his legs, for he naturally felt somewhat strange in
his new form, he at length, overcome with fatigue and a
desire for repose, laid himself down on the dry sand under
the shade of an overhanging rock. Here, in the course of a
few minutes, he fell fast asleep; and so sound was his sleep
that he appeared like some shipwrecked mariner who had
been drowned and washed on shore by the stormy waves.
 Story 6--Chapter V.
The bright sun was shedding his beams across the dancing
waves, when the lovely Serena and her maidens, tempted
by the beauty of the morning, left the palace to enjoy the
fresh air on the beach, no longer dreading to meet the
hideous monster who had once so frightened them in the
same spot. As they walked on they talked of the storm
which had raged during the night. “And, my Princess,” said
Linda, one of the maidens, “they say that there was seen
last night, by those who were on the watch, a huge black
mass driving towards the shore, but that it burst asunder,
and only fragments of wood and some extraordinary-shaped
things were found among the rocks. Some people think it
was a big canoe, and others a monster, but no one is
certain.”

“There are many strange things happening,” replied Serena.

“Last night my father dreamed a dream; he dreamed that
one of the sages of our people came to him, and reminded
him of a prophecy which was uttered years ago: it ran thus:
—

”‘In hour of danger

Saved by a stranger,
The King and state
Give him guerdon great,
But a Sea-monster will prey
On his reward that day.’

“My sire awoke repeating the words, and the sage was
gone, but the storm was raging with greater fury than
before.”
“Since the day we saw the dreadful monster, wonders have
never ceased,” observed Linda; “now, I should not be
surprised if some other wonder was going to happen.”

While they were speaking they happened to approach the

very spot where the form of Alonzo was sleeping. The
Princess and her maidens started with surprise, and then
cautiously drew near, curious to know what strange being
he was; for, from his dress, which was the costume of
Spain, and from his appearance being so totally different to
that of the islanders, they did not at first suppose that he
was a human being.

Remembering the fright they had had before, from the

strange monster which had appeared so suddenly out of the
sea, they approached very cautiously, thinking this might do
them some harm if they were not careful. Hand-in-hand
they advanced, treading lightly, and uttering no sound, and
ready every instant to run away. At last they all got close up
to him, and began to examine him with curious eyes, their
fears gradually growing less and less. Linda was the first to
make the wonderful discovery, that instead of a strange
monster, he was a young and handsome man. “Oh, my dear
mistress, I am sure he must be a Prince, for he is so very
good-looking and prince-like,” she exclaimed, bending over
him; as she did so she uttered an exclamation of sorrow,
and wrung her hands; “Alas, alas!” she cried, “but I fear he
is dead!”

The maidens now all drew near, and knelt mournfully round
him, when at last the Princess ventured to take his hand.
Instead of letting it drop, she exclaimed joyfully, “Oh, no!
he is not dead; his pulse yet beats with life, and look, the
colour mantles on his cheeks.”
Her touch, or the voices of her maidens expressing their
satisfaction, awoke Alonzo, as Borasco now called himself,
out of his deep sleep. He opened his eyes, and fixing them
on her, he said in a low voice, expressive of his surprise,
“Do I dream? Are you a mortal? or have the skies sent
some being radiant with beauty to dwell on earth?”

The Princess was not insensible to the compliment, though

it was rather high-flown; but she was so astonished at
hearing him speak, that, instead of answering him, and not
knowing what else to say, she asked, “What are you?
whence do you come?”

Before Alonzo could answer these questions he had to

collect his thoughts sufficiently to frame a story; for he had
had till then no idea that they would naturally be put to
him. He therefore rose, and, kneeling at the feet of the
Princess, took her hand, and replied, “I come from the sea,
fair Princess! My ship was dashed to pieces last night on
those pointed rocks, while I, her chief, was cast on shore,
and am the sole survivor of her crew. My name is Alonzo,
and I am your humble slave, fair lady.”

The Princess, though she did not comprehend all the

stranger said, and certainly did not understand his
compliments, had not the slightest doubt of the truth of the
story. She entreated him to rise, and then retired with her
maidens to consult what should be done; for there existed
in Gracia a law which condemned to death any stranger who
should venture to the island, of whose character and history
the chiefs and magistrates were not fully satisfied. Without,
therefore, their permission, she could not venture to invite
him to her father’s palace. At this juncture a number of the
islanders appeared from the wood close by, and seeing a
strange person standing by himself, for the Princess and her
maidens were hid from them by the rocks, they rushed
down and seized him, demanding who he was. The Princess
heard their voices, but before she could interfere,
overwhelmed by numbers, the stranger was borne to the
ground. He struggled in vain, and was surprised to find how
easily he was overcome; for he forgot that with a mortal
form he possessed only the strength of a mortal, and had at
first supposed that he could drive them off with as much
ease as he would have done had he retained the form of
Borasco.

The Princess hurried forward. “Oh, spare him! spare him!”

she exclaimed; “I am certain he will do no harm. See how
amiable and gentle he looks!”

The islanders loved their Princess, and therefore refrained

from offering further violence to the stranger, but still they
held him tight, and insisted on carrying him into the
presence of King Zaphor. Now, Serena, as she felt that she
might more successfully plead his cause before her
indulgent father than any one else, gladly consented to this
arrangement.

King Zaphor sat in state, with his wise men and councillors
around him, when Alonzo was brought bound before him by
a large concourse of his subjects. The Princess, attended by
her maidens, also appeared in court, for there was no one
else to plead his cause; and as she had been the first to
discover him, she considered that she was in duty bound to
protect him. Alonzo stood before the King with a dignified
air, and his arms folded on his bosom, his personal
appearance gaining him many friends; but when he was
questioned as to his occupation and calling, he began to
reflect whether he had not done an unwise thing in entering
the form of so wicked a person as the pirate captain,
handsome though he was; for he feared that should the
Princess discover that his form was that of Alonzo, nothing
that he could say to the contrary would persuade her that
he was not Alonzo himself. He felt, indeed, the truth that
beauty, without real goodness and a good character, is
worthless indeed. He, however, gave the same account of
himself that he had done to the Princess, in so clear and
concise a way, that he gained much in the good opinion of
the wise men. He then vowed so earnestly, that far from
wishing to injure any of the inhabitants of the Island of
Gracia, he would devote himself to their service, that he
made a still further advance; and when the Princess spoke
in his favour, it was unanimously decreed that, not only
should his life be spared, but that full permission should be
given him to remain in the island.

The fair Serena was delighted at her success, and

consequently took greater interest than before in the
stranger. King Zaphor, with great courtesy and kindness,
invited him to his palace, where a feast was prepared, and a
chamber made ready for him. All the chiefs of the island
attended the feast, and were much pleased, as was the
King, with his wisdom and general information. The King,
indeed, confessed that he was superior to any of the
councillors who sat at his council-table; and this made them
not a little jealous of him, as people of small minds are apt
to be of strangers who surpass them in intellect. Meantime
the Princess listened attentively to all Alonzo said, and the
interest she felt ripened into a still warmer feeling—a feeling
with which Borasco in his proper shape would never have
inspired her. The stranger rapidly gained his way into her
good graces, and days, weeks, and months passed happily
away without their finding them an hour too long.
 Story 6--Chapter VI.
Months wore on, and the wisdom of Alonzo had wonderfully
increased the prosperity of King Zaphor’s dominions. All the
people began to respect the stranger, and to look upon him
as the husband of the Princess, and their future sovereign.
One day, as Alonzo and Serena were wandering by the
shore, they saw approaching far off on the sea, a number of
large canoes. Alonzo regarded them attentively till he felt
convinced that they were war-canoes full of warriors,
intending to attack the island. So he hurried back to collect
all the fighting men to repel the enemy. On came the
canoes, and it was soon seen that Alonzo was not mistaken,
for before the fighting men of the island could assemble,
they had run upon the beach. Alonzo and a few followers
were the only persons ready to meet, the invaders, who had
already formed on the sand, expecting an easy victory. With
a sharp sword in his hand—a sword forged within the
bowels of the earth, and which had been brought to him by
a Sea Spirit from an island in the Mediterranean—he rushed
down among them. His sharp sword flashed fire, as he
whirled it round his head, among the showers of arrows
which flew about him, and numbers of the enemy lay cut to
pieces at his feet. Fearless of the deadly weapons aimed at
him, so rapidly did he perform his work, that all the
invaders were either destroyed or had fallen on their knees
to sue for mercy before the King and his followers could get
up to the scene of action.

Thus the Island of Gracia was delivered from the greatest

peril to which it had ever been exposed. Then the King gave
a banquet to commemorate the happy event, and he
summoned to it his lords and councillors, and all the chief
men of the island, and they all came and congratulated the
King on his victory.

The King, however, graciously would not claim the credit

which was not his due; but, pointing to Alonzo, who sat on
his right side, told them that they owed their freedom to
him. Then, taking him by one hand, he took Serena by the
other, and informed his chiefs that he thus betrothed those
whose hearts were already one, and he inquired whether
they would consent to receive the stranger as their future
chief. No sooner had the King done speaking, than all the
nobles arose, and exclaimed, “Hail to the brave stranger,
our gallant defender! hail to Prince Alonzo, the husband of
our beloved Princess, our future sovereign!”

The King was much pleased with this expression of the

loyalty of his subjects, nor was the Princess less so at their
approval of a husband to whom she was so devotedly
attached. Thus the stranger Alonzo was raised to the
highest dignity of the state.

Nearly a year had passed since his arrival, when one day he
espied a large ship, under full sail, approaching the island.
The people were surprised, and many were much alarmed,
for they had never before seen so extraordinary a sight.
Some thought it some mighty sea-bird, and others some
monster of the deep; but none could tell what the portend
might forbode. On the ship came, and, casting anchor,
several of the crew landed. They wandered about through
the woods, singing and carousing, and otherwise amusing
themselves. When also they happened to discover any of
the cottages of the natives, they did not scruple to enter,
and to appropriate anything which struck their fancy. Alonzo
was attending to the affairs of state when news was
brought him of the behaviour of the strangers, and that
they were actually approaching the precincts of the Palace.
On this he immediately sent out to put a stop to the
mischief. As he was proceeding a shriek reached his ear. He
knew the voice at once—it was that of the Princess Serena
—and, rushing on with the speed of lightning, he found her
and her maidens in the rude grasp of the strangers. When
they saw him and his followers, while some held fast the
damsels, the rest advanced with arms in their hands to
meet him. As, however, they got nearer to him, instead of
attempting to run him through with their swords, they
shouted out, “’Tis he! ’tis he! our long-lost chief! Why,
brave Captain Alonzo, we thought you long since dead.
What, don’t you know us? Don’t you remember Almagro,
and Sancho, and Pedro?”

But Alonzo looked at them as on total strangers, for, of

course, he could not remember having ever seen them
before. “I know you only from your own confession and
your deeds to be wicked villains,” he exclaimed; “and I
order you instantly to quit this island, or I shall hand you
over to the laws of the realm. I spare you now. Begone, but
remember my warning.”

This made them very indignant. “What, not know your old
friends? Come, come, you look very magnificent, doubtless,
but we cannot let you or any other man interfere with our
proceedings.”

As they said this, some drew their swords, while others

attempted to drag off Serena and her maidens. The magic
weapon of Alonzo was in his hand in an instant, and as it
struck the blades of the pirates, for such they were, it
shivered them to atoms. Some of the pirates were killed,
but Alonzo was merciful, and the Princess being placed in
safety, he allowed the rest to escape, as they fled before
him. That day he published a decree banishing the pirates
from the island, on pain of death if they remained. Instead
of going, however, they hid themselves among the rocks on
the sea-shore, for the purpose of issuing forth at night to
weak their vengeance on one whom they supposed to have
been their chief, but who had now become their enemy.
 Story 6--Chapter VII.
It required but one day to complete the year since the
Princess Serena first beheld Alonzo, when, as they sat in
her bower, watching the blue tranquil sea in the distance,
he folded her in his arms, and told her, with a voice of
tenderness, that he must for a short time quit her. In vain
she endeavoured to draw from him the reason of his
intended absence. He assured her that it would be but for a
few short hours, that he must go to a distant part of the
island, and that he would faithfully return. She entreated to
be allowed to accompany him, but to that he could not
consent. Had he entrusted his awful secret to her, though it
would have terrified her to find that she had got a Spirit for
a husband, it might have been happier for him.

Every argument which the Princess could use was employed

in vain to induce the seeming Alonzo to remain; far more
powerful were the stern decrees of Neptune. Once more
pressing her to his heart, he tore himself from her, and
rushed out along the beach till the tall rocks hid him from
her sight. The Princess remained bathed in tears, and
overcome with grief and forebodings of evil.

Meantime Alonzo wandered along the shore in search of

some sequestered cavern, where he might leave in security
the mortal form he wore, while he repaired, according to his
bounden duty, to Neptune’s conclave. For some time he
could not satisfy himself, for he was naturally fearful of
being disturbed or injured. Far, far better would it have
been had he entrusted his body to the safe and loving care
of the Princess. At last he discovered a cavern which could
only be entered from the sea. Inside it there was a small
extent of sand and several ledges of dry rock, to which the
waters never reached. Nothing could be better suited to his
purpose; so, standing at the mouth of the cave, he
stretched out his hand over the sea, and uttered this potent
spell:—

“Haste, wandering form,

Dark mist o’er the main.
From wind and from storm,
I call thee again.
I once bade thee retire,
But now hither repair,
Whether glowing in fire,
Or sailing in air.
Again this stern spell,
Dark shape, thou must hear,
Come, come, whence you dwell,
Haste hither, appear!”

As he spoke a thick mist seemed to rise from the sea in the

horizon, extending upward, and growing denser and denser,
till it assumed the faint outlines of Borasco’s form. Then it
glided forward, as if borne onward by a gentle wind, till it
reached the mouth of the cavern. Meantime Alonzo placed
himself on an upper ledge of the rock in an attitude of
sleep, and forthwith his spirit passed into his proper form,
from which an awful voice uttered these words:—

“Rest thee, mortal form, rest here,

Till I once again appear.
Cursed the hands that dare to smite thee,
Or by injury to blight thee.
Let with horror fate condemn them,
And the raging seas o’erwhelm them.”

While he was thus speaking, Borasco glided over the sea till
he disappeared in the far distance.
Now it happened, as we have said, that the pirates, whom
Alonzo had ordered to quit the island, instead of so doing,
had hid themselves among the rocks on the sea-shore,
waiting for an opportunity to wreak their vengeance on him;
and as they were rowing along in their boat, they reached
the mouth of the cavern in which he had left the body of
Alonzo. Leaving their boat secured to a rock, they jumped
on to the sand.

“Ah, here is a secure place indeed, where we may remain

concealed though all the people of the island were hunting
for us, till an opportunity occurs for punishing our traitor
Captain,” said Almagro, who was now chief of the band, and
was afraid, should Alonzo return, of losing his authority.

“It’s secure enough; but if the sea were to get up we should

be caught, like mice in a trap,” observed Sancho, one of the
lieutenants. “Why, where’s the boat?” As he spoke the boat
drifted away from the cavern out of their reach.

“What clumsy fellow pretended to secure the boat? Ah, see,

the sea is already rising,” ejaculated Almagro, in a tone of
horror.

The pirates were now compelled to retire higher up the

cavern. What was their astonishment when, as they
reached the further end, they saw before them the very
man they had been seeking, as they supposed fast asleep.
Immediately they held consultation what should be done.
Sancho, and some of the more merciful, were for binding
him and carrying him off to their ship, but Almagro, who
saw that thus his object would probably be defeated, was
for destroying him while he slept. Several of the worst sided
with him, and before Sancho could interfere, they sprang
forward and plunged their daggers into Alonzo’s form.
Scarcely had they done so, when loud peals of thunder
echoed along the rocks, vivid lightning flashed from the
skies, and the foaming waves rushed up into the cavern.

In vain the guilty and affrighted pirates fled into the interior
of the cave. The angry waters foamed up on every side.
Shrieking they fled from rock to rock; still the waves rose
higher and higher, and swept them far off into the boiling
sea, while the dead body of Alonzo was carried away into
the depths of the ocean.
 Story 6--Chapter VIII.

The sun had risen twice upon the world, and again set, and
now the moon was casting her silvery beams upon the
dancing waves, when the Princess Serena went forth, on
the sea-shore, to search for the brave Alonzo, for he
returned not as he promised. Long she wandered up and
down, and with anxious gaze watched the shining ocean,
but still he came not.

She listened for his voice, but no sound was heard, only the
low murmur of the rippling water upon the yellow sand. Her
heart sank with fear, and grief, hitherto a stranger to her,
took possession of her bosom. At length she climbed to the
summit of a high rock which overhung the sea. There she
stood, with straining eyes and arms stretched over the
ocean, calling in a tone of anguish on Alonzo to return to
her. As she uttered his name, a form, vast, shadowy, and
majestic, appeared beneath the moonlight, and a voice, so
soft it seemed a note of sweet music, pronounced her
name. The Princess listened with eagerness and
astonishment. Again, from afar, came that low and sweetly
solemn voice. “Serena, Serena, Serena!” it said. Well did
the Princess know the voice. It was Alonzo’s. Though he
was not seen, she felt that he was near her; nor did the
vast form on the ocean bring any terror to her bosom.

“Serena, Serena!” repeated the voice.

“Serena, dearest, haste to me,

And I will bear thee o’er the sea,
To halls so rich, so bright, so fair,
Sparkling with every jewel rare,
Where you, beloved, in peace shall reign,
The gentle guardian of the main.
Then, sweet Serena, come to me,
And I will bear thee o’er the sea.”

“Yes, beloved one, I will go to thee,” she exclaimed, and

fearlessly she sprang towards the bright ocean which
slumbered below.

The waters sparkled as she fell, a joyous voice again

uttered her name, and a form, though it was Borasco’s, no
longer hideous in her sight, received her in his arms.

The maidens of the Princess, when they saw the vast form
of Borasco floating on the water, were horrified; but when
they observed her throw herself off the rock, and watched
her carried away in the arms of the seeming monster, they
fled terrified to the palace, and reported what had occurred.
At first there was some doubt thrown on the matter, and
when the stranger Alonzo did not return, people went so far
as to say that the unhappy Princess had, in a fit of
madness, thrown herself into the sea for love of him. The
enemies of Alonzo, who had heard the pirates claim as a
friend, said that he was a pirate himself, and that he had
carried off the Princess. At all events, the poor King was
overwhelmed with grief at the loss of his daughter, and
called his chiefs together, to consult as to what could have
become of her, or if means could be taken to recover her.

The sages differed for some time in their opinions. One

said, “If she had jumped into the sea and was drowned,
they could not expect her to return.” Another observed that,
if she had been carried away by a pirate, it was to be hoped
that the pirate would bring her back again; while a third
sagaciously remarked that, in order to recover her, not
knowing where she was, it would be necessary to look for
her.

At length one of the very oldest of the sages remembered

the prophecy about which the King had dreamed on the
night of the storm, when Alonzo came to the island. “There
can be no doubt,” he observed, “that the first part referred
to the stranger who had rendered such signal service to the
state, for which service he received, as guerdon great, the
hand of the Princess.

”‘But a sea-monster shall prey

On his reward that day,’

“Means, evidently, that a sea-monster will carry off and

prey upon the Princess, who was his reward.”

The King and all his councillors acknowledged, with deep

grief, that they saw the true interpretation of the prophecy,
and from that time forth no one in the Island of Gracia
doubted that the Princess had been carried off by a sea-
monster.
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