The Chinese Maze Murders

Chinese Sources

I borrowed three plots from three different 16th century Chinese collections of crime and mystery stories. In the original none of these three plots bears any relation to Judge Dee or 'Dee Goong An'. Since, however, through my translation of 'Dee Goong An', the reader has become familiar with Judge Dee and his four assistants, those three plots have now been re-written as one continuous story centering round that famous ancient Chinese master-detective. Judge Dee could be introduced into this story without much difficulty, for the magistrate-detective figures in all old Chinese crime novels. The type is more important than the name, in fact it makes little difference whether a crime is solved by 'Judge Pao', 'Judge Peng', 'Judge Shih' or 'Judge Dee'.

The 'Case of the Sealed Room' was suggested by an anecdote concerning Yen Shih-fan, a notoriously wicked statesman of the Ming period who died in 1565 A.D. It is said that he invented a special writing brush capable of ejecting a deadly missile when heated near a candle (cf. A. Waley's introduction ot the English translation of'Chin P'ing Mei', page VIII). The original story states that Yen Shih-fan used this 'loaded writing brush' as a defensive weapon, to be used should one of his many enemies surprise him writing in his library and if no other weapon was at hand. I described such a 'loaded brush' as a weapon of attack and wrote a new story around it dealing with delayed vengeance, a motif not uncommon in Chinese novels. It should be added that when a new writing brush is to be used, the writer must first burn off the superfluous hairs

around the point. To do this he holds it to a flame keeping the shaft horizontal to his eye. There is thus a good chance that a missile projected from the end of the brush will hit his face. Even if the wax holding the coiled spring inside the shaft should not melt during the actual trimming process, the writer will still have little chance of survival once he begins to use his brush, since his head would usually be bent over the paper and therefore be in the direct line of fire. This is indeed what happened to General Ding in the present novel.

Quite another motif is worked out in the 'Case of the Hidden Testament'. This case is based on a well-known ancient Chinese plot. A brief version occurs in the T'ang-yin-pi-shih, a collection of ruling cases compiled in 1211 A.D.; cf. my translation entitled 'T'ang-yin-pi-shih, Parallel Cases from under the Peartree, a 13th century manual of Jurisprudence and Detection' (Sinica Leidensia Vol. X, Leiden 1956), page 177, Case 66-B. Another brief version is found in the famous 16 th century collection of crime stories Lung-t'u-kung-an which describe the exploits of the master-detective Pao-kung who lived during the Sung Dynasty. There the story bears the title of Ch'e-hua-chou 'The Taking apart of the Scroll Picture'. A more elaborate version is given in the popular 17th century collection of Chinese stories Chin-ku-ch'i-kuan; it is inserted there as the third tale, entitled T''eng-ta-yin-kuei-tuan-chia-szu 'Magistrate T'eng 's marvellous solution of the Inheritance Suit'. In the original story the real testament is found hidden in the scroll's mounting, the clues contained in the picture itself are an embellishment I have added. I also added the new plot of the maze mystery which – as far as I know – does not occur in ancient Chinese detective stories although mazes are occasionally mentioned in the description of Chinese palaces. The design of the maze reproduced in the present story is in reality that of the cover of a Chinese incense burner. It is an old Chinese custom to place a thin plate of copper with a cut-out and continuous design, on top of a vessel filled to the brim with incense powder. When the powder is lighted at one end of the design, it slowly burns on like a fuse following the design. During past centuries, there were published in China a number of books reproducing various designs of this kind, usually representing some auspicious phrase, and often of great ingenuity. The design utilized in the present story was borrowed from the Hsiang-yin-t'u-k'ao, a book on this subject published in 1878.

The plot of the girl with the severed head is a quite common one in old Chinese crime stories; cf., for instance, my translation of the T'ang-yin-pi-shih, Case 64-A. I worked it into a story centering round sapphism, an aberration described in a number of Chinese novels and plays. The best known example is the love story of the girl Ts'ao Yü-hua and Mrs. Fan Yün-chien, in the 17th century play Lien-hsiang-pan, by the famous artist and playwright Li Yü. Cruelty of women towards women servants etc. is amply illustrated in Chinese 'romans de moeurs'; I mention as an example Chapter VIII of the well known novel Chin-p'ing-mei. The frequent occurence of sapphism, and occasional cases of sadism among women in ancient China must doubtless be ascribed to the polygamic family system, where a number of women were obliged to live in constant and close proximity. Students of sociology will find this problem discussed at some length in my book 'Erotic Colour Prints of the Ming Period' (Tokyo 1951, Vol. I, p. 146-148). I selected this motive for inclusion in the present novel partiy because it enabled me to create unexpected

developments and partly in order to show how surprisingly 'modern' old Chinese plots can be.

The exposure of the three monks who falsely reported the theft of a golden statue, in Chapter VII of the present novel, is based on a story in-the T'ang-yin-pi-shik, the collection of criminal cases mentioned above. This particular case will be found on page 159 of my translation, Case 57-B.

The 'framework' of the present novel, viz. a tale of a distant town where a local bully has usurped power, also is a common situation in Chinese novels. Sometimes a clever magistrate outwits and deposes the usurper, sometimes it is the usurper who is the hero of the story. He takes over from a corrupt magistrate, and subsequently is officially confirmed in his position by a grateful government.

Finally, the role played by 'Master Crane Robe' in this novel (see Chapter XIX) is a much-chastened version of the 'deus ex machina' found in many old Chinese detective novels; they introduce a supernatural being (sometimes the King of the Nether World himself come down to earth in human shape) which helps the magistrate to solve a baffling crime by means of occult powers. This element is, of course, unacceptable to the modern reader. In the present novel, therefore, I represent Master Crane Robe as a high-minded Taoist recluse, leaving it open as to whether the clues Judge Dee discovered during their conversation were the result of a lucky accident, or of the master's inside knowledge of Governor Yoo's affairs, or, again, of the master's unusual mental powers. I chose as background of their conversation the contrast between Confucianism and Taoism. As is well known, Confucianism and Taoims are the two basic ways of thought that have dominated Chinese philosophy and religion ever since approximately the 4th century B.C. Confucianism is realistic and very much of this world, Taoism is romantic and wholly unworldly.

Judge Dee, as an orthodox Confucianist scholar-official, venerates the Confucianist Classics which attach supreme importance to such accepted moral values as justice, righteousness, benevolence, duty, etc. Master Crane Robe, on the other hand, advocates the Taoist principle of the relativity of all accepted values, and a life of non-action jenseits vom Guten und Bösen', in complete harmony with the primordial forces of nature. These two conflicting views are epitomized in the couplet of Governor Yoo about the worm and the dragon. This couplet I quoted from a Buddhist work on Ch'an (Japanese: Zen) philosophy. The Ch'an sect of Buddhism often comes very close to Taoism.

R. H. VAN GULIK