How to Be Good In a Bad World
What folk tales like Outlaws of the Marsh can teach us about morality in immoral times
The Chinese classic novel, Water Margin aka Outlaws of the Marsh, recounts the legends of a band of 108 “heroes” living on China’s Mt. Liang. Sort of like China's Robin Hood, if Robin Hood's merry band included a man who cut off his murderous sister-in-law's head. Or a drunken monk who only shaved his head to escape retribution for manslaughter.
And it wasn’t just the men. A woman inn-keep sold meat buns that may or may not have contained human flesh. Suffice it to say that the morality of these "heroes" was oftentimes questionable at best.
Why would a Chinese "classic" be more "True Crime" than “Afterschool Special”? What makes the fugitives of Mt. Liang folk heroes is this: they're human, only a little stronger or better trained. They don't have the luxury of magnanimity and clemency that true divinity affords. All they really have is their word. What sets them apart from the unscrupulous nobles and corrupt officials of the late Song Dynasty is that they follow a code and kept it.
Admittedly, it’s a far lower bar than the average modern–who thinks even masked vigilantes should get along with the law–might expect. But perhaps this is why folk legends play such a vital role in culture: they offer a blueprint for how those who don't have superpowers or talents ought to act, especially in times of chaos and uncertainty when society has gone wrong.
This explains why they were a favorite tattoo subject of the Yakuza.
It also explains why the Chinese Communist Party praised the novel at first and then, once the CCP was no longer the underdog, stopped. These are the heroes and heroines of rebels, outlaws, gangsters, and vagabonds. NOT law-abiding collectivists.
Just as King Arthur legends have outshone those of Robin Hood in recent years, Water Margin has given way to the Monkey King in Asia. It’s easier to clean up the image of a demigod or cheer for a superhero when peace and order reign.
But if civilization ever collapses again, then works that celebrate the kind of "frontier justice" that Outlaws promotes may very well come back into vogue. America saw something like this in the 70s (watch any Peckinpah movie of the time to see what I mean, also Rambo, Mad Max, and even Dirty Harry).
The entire kung fu and Chinese gangster genres can also count Outlaws as their ancestor the way Western Fantasy novels descended from Chivalric romances. Although most of the protagonists of these novels are far more conformist as would befit a genre whose rebirth came in the form of establishment newspaper serials.
Many of the martial virtues and codes of conduct taught in traditional martial arts schools carry a similar ethos to the unspoken codes of honor and loyalty observed by all members of the Mt. Liang gang.
With recent events bringing trust in our public officials to an all-time low and an endless stream of scandals on our horizon, now might be the time to revisit Outlaws of the Marsh, a timeless classic on how to be good in a bad world.
“…they follow a code and kept it.” This is the overwhelming message to all of us raised Asian. Hard to follow, bit also the reason why we’re supposed to be moral absolutists. (Although admittedly, as you illustrate, from yakuza to sage, everyone picks their own version.)