Taiwan Today

The consumption of alcoholic beverages in China has a substantiated history dating back some 4,000-5,000 years. And although this situation is by no means unique to China, it might be fair to say that no other culture in the world, ancient or modern, has enjoyed so unique a relationship with the "golden liquid."

The sublime beverage knew no distinctions of class or status in China, but was partaken of by almost every true-blooded Chinese, from emperor to common laborer.

Since that first fragrant wine cup was lifted in ancient times, the effects on China's history and culture have been both continuous and far reaching. Dynasties rose and fell with the intensities of that impulse; military conquests were initiated, won and lost as a result of it; and the gem of China's literary and artistic tradition found luster of incalculable value in its radiance.

If, indeed, in days past, certain Western nations met less than desirable fates through indulgence in alcohol, it is really hard to imagine China being any the better for the absence of it. Perhaps it is the Chinese concept of the "Golden Mean," moderation in all things, through all these millennia which has enabled alcohol to remain an integral and contributing factor to the Chinese culture, rather than be destructive of it.

Not to say that everything which came from the cup was to the good, however. But "the thing in the cup," as Chinese poets affectionately referred to it, for better or worse, has left its indelible mark upon the world's oldest surviving civilization.

Future generations will certainly bring ruin to their country through alcohol consumption—Yu. legendary founder of China's Hsia Dynasty

According to traditional Chinese records, the production and consumption of wine in China trace back into legendary times. The translated word "wine" (chiu) is actually an embracing term in Chinese, referring to all beverages with an alcohol content and not just those fermented from fruit, as "wine" is generally understood in Western countries.

China's ancient sages, Yao and Shun, who are considered to have ruled the Chinese about 4,200 years ago, were noted for their capacity for wine. But the first recorded mention of an individual responsible for production of wine identifies a member of a later ruling family, Yi Ti, daughter of Yu, founder of the Hsia Dynasty (2205-1766 B.C., which though still archaeologically unproved, has traditionally been considered China's first dynasty). When Yi Ti brought her wine to Yu for tasting, he found it most delectable and, no doubt, after a few glasses felt rather light headed.

Therefore, it must have come as a great surprise to Yi Ti when the wine she had presented to Yu brought not compliments, but condemnation. Realizing both the attractions and inherent dangers in the consumption of the pleasant elixir by his subjects, Yu declared that it would one day bring ruin to the country.

He immediately put into effect what amounted to China's first alcohol prohibition: Although wine production was still permitted, its use was limited to rites of sacrifice—always an extremely important role for spirits in China's ancient history. The records also note that this incident created a serious rift between Yu and his daughter.

Whether such an incident actually took place some 4,000 years ago is difficult to assert absolutely, since all records of the Hsia Dynasty are after the fact, compiled during later dynasties. However, based on the archaeological evidence, China did produce and consume wine approximately 4,000 years ago, in the latter part of the Neolithic period. Analyses of the remains of pottery vessels from that period show that some were used for the specific purposes of storing or drinking wine. Unfortunately, without written records from that time, it is not possible to detail types of wine or habits of wine consumption.

Quite a bit more is known about the development of wine in the dynasty which followed—the Shang Dynasty (1766-1123 B.C.). Within the complex of oracle bone script, China's earliest extant writing, there exist numerous characters related to wine and wine consumption.

During the Shang and the following Chou Dynasty, extreme importance was assigned to the use of wine in ritual and sacrifice. Shang society was polytheistic and practiced human sacrifice as a part of worship. Not only were there very clear rules concerning the type of wine for each ritual, but for the appropriate wine vessel. The Shang Dynasty saw great advancements in the casting of bronzeware. And a good percentage of ritual vessels were of bronze. But wood, gourd, pottery, and lacquerware vessels were, each devoted, also, to specific ceremonial and non-ceremonial uses.

The wines at religious rituals were seldom used for human consumption, often being sprinkled upon the ground in front of the altar. Different wines were made for various circumstances, some more formal than others.

Shang society was feudalistic, and the consumption of wine played an important role in the rituals of ceremony between the Shang king and princes of the different states, and between the princes and his ministers. It is recorded that it was difficult to drink to the point of drunkenness in such circumstances because of the extremity of ritual involved, which often necessitated prostration after each cup and other similar gestures. Again, the types of wines and vessels used were according to the strict mandates of the particular ritual.

Drinking on more informal levels did appear to exist during Shang times, but to have been limited mostly to the aristocracy. The majority of non-aristocrats were then slaves and peasant farmers who seldom, if ever, could afford the luxury of a drink.

Wine parties among the aristocracy became a more and more common affair, especially towards the latter part of the Shang Dynasty. Eventually, they would culminate in the actualization of that which Yu had warned of a thousand years earlier:

The last ruler of the Shang Dynasty, Emperor Hsin, generally known as Shang Chou, was a cruel autocrat who oppressed his subjects through extreme taxation in order to maintain an ultra-luxurious lifestyle, which included orgiastic celebrations reminiscent of the Rome-to-come at its most decadent. This is referred to in the Chinese as jou lin chiu chih, ("meat forests and wine pools"), because he hung prepared meats handily throughout his palace and filled the huge royal fountains with wines instead of water. These excesses of indulgence eventually brought about a revolution led by the Chou dynastic clan which did, indeed, end up in the ruin of Emperor Hsin and his dynasty.

Emperor Wu, founder of the new Chou Dynasty (1122-256 B.C.), pronounced forthrightly that the Shang Dynasty had fallen through unrestricted wining, and once again imposed strict regulations on the consumption of wine for non-ritual purposes. Ritual use of wine during the Chou Dynasty, however, was carried on as in the Shang Dynasty, with some further refinements. Records of the time indicate the establishment of a number of different official posts related to the management and regulation of wine within the dynasty, many of which had not existed previously.

The most well known wine maker during the Chou Dynasty was Tu Kang, whose name was later to become synonymous with wine. An interesting note concerning Chou attitudes towards wine appears in the Book of Rites, which is itself attributed to the Chou Dynasty. It abruptly declares wine suitable for old and convalescing persons.

Although the lot of the commoner was better now than in the Shang Dynasty, and even after early restrictions on alcohol were lifted, wine was still not available as a common commodity. Since wine's stimulating effects were considered beneficial in the case of illness and old age, it was mostly reserved for consumption in those two cases. Exceptions did exist, however, in the case of holidays and other special occasions.

The Book of Odes, which is attributed to the Chou Dynasty as well, contains numerous references to drinking (which may have been from the later period in the Chou Dynasty, when wine was more readily available).

The latter half of the Chou Dynasty, known as the Eastern Chou, saw the breakdown of the Chou feudal system, rising contention among the various states for territory and power, and a concurrent weakening of the central authority of the Chou king. This turmoil brought with it a growing laxness with regards to the former rituals, a fact which Confucius, who lived during that time, often explicitly bemoaned. Yet wine still played an important role in ritual, especially in the area of relations between the states:

When the southern state of Chu, one of the more powerful of its time, called for a meeting between the states, the eastern state of Lu reportedly brought wine, as a tribute, which was a bit too thin (indicating that it was of poor quality). An argument ensued about the matter, with the result that Chu sent its army to invade Lu, with dire consequences for the latter.

Ritual aspects aside, during the Eastern Chou period, drinking of wine became a rather common affair. Two important factors were involved. The first was the previously mentioned weakening of the central authority of the Chou king, which would have made unified attempts at regulation of wine consumption increasingly difficult. Secondly, the Eastern Chou period saw the flowering of commerce as well as the first use of coined money in China. The resultant increased availability of goods, and the convenience of the new coinage for obtaining such goods were, no doubt, important factors in the increased wine consumption.

The names of several of the period's more adept drinkers have been left for posterity. One was the ruler of the state of Chi, Duke Huan, who was often at odds with his prime minister, Kuan Chung, as a result of the Duke's drinking. Duke Huan was actually quite an enlightened leader, who did good things both for China and his own state at the time; it was just that his love of wine often met with strong opposition from the more temperate Kuan Chung.

In one instance, Duke Huan got roaring drunk and, in his drunken state, lost his headgear, which in those days symbolized his authority. He did not attend court with his ministers for three days, out of fear for what Kuan Chung might say. Kuan Chung finally went looking for Duke Huan, who quickly expressed regret for the incident in a rather timid voice. Kuan Chung snapped that regret was not enough, that something needed to be done in the way of compensation. Duke Huan accordingly opened up the state granaries, distributing grain to the common people, and declared a general amnesty for prisoners.

At another time, Duke Huan gave Kuan Chung a rather large amount of wine to drink, and Kuan Chung only drank a small amount, disposing of the rest on the ground. In those days, as these, it was considered a supreme honor to be personally offered wine by a head of state, and so Duke Huan, justifiably, felt quite angry.

In response, Kuan Chung commented, "When wine is taken, one becomes loose at the lips. Becoming loose at the lips, one utters improprieties. Uttering improprieties, one discards one's dignity. Your humble official believes it more desirable to discard one's wine than his dignity." Duke Huan was left at a loss for words.

The Chinese, as in the West, allow some wines to age for a few years before drinking, so the taste will mellow. Actually, there is no question that China holds the record for the oldest vintage ever confirmed.

When in Hupei Province, the tomb of a ruler of the Eastern Chou state of Chungshan was excavated, a large wine vat was discovered. In and of itself, this is not an unusual tomb find. However, upon being opened the vat revealed a clear liquid, and the unmistakable fragrance of wine was evident. And despite the high volatility of alcohol, subsequent analysis confirmed the persistence of an alcoholic content. Hence, the world's oldest extant wine—vintage, 4th Century B.C.!

China's Han Dynasty (206 B.C.-220 A.D.) was a period of relative stability and prosperity compared to the Eastern Chou, and the population of China increased greatly during this period. Still, the use of military force against the non-Chinese hordes, especially during the reign of the fifth Han emperor, escalated to a level previously unknown. The situation mandated great increases in government revenue, and this brought Chinese society to a new milestone in wine production which would last almost a millennium and a half: government wine monopoly.

Actually, the beginning of the Han Dynasty had seen the institution of yet another attempt at prohibition of alcohol, this time by Hsiao Ho, prime minister for the first Han emperor. The history of alcohol prohibition in China is quite complex, with numerous instances of its institution throughout the various dynasties. (Indeed, the first emperor of the Yuan Dynasty, 1260-1368, failed in his attempt to put alcohol prohibition into effect centuries later, though he directed that anyone caught making wine immediately be conscripted into the army, his property and assets confiscated, and his wives and concu­bines sent to the palace as servants).

In any case, Hsiao Ho's prohibition at the beginning of the Han Dynasty proved no more successful. Realizing that wine in China was there to stay, Hsiao Ho's successor, Tsao Shen, who was himself reputed to be quite a devoted follower of the "hard stuff," lifted the prohibition.

Although the ritual aspects of wine consumption would never disappear completely, the greater majority of ancient rituals connected with wine from the Hsia, Shang, and Western Chou Dynasties were forgotten during the time of the Han Dynasty. The drinking of wine became a much less formal matter, and wine grew greatly in popularity and availability among the common people. Affectionately dubbed Huan Po, (Count of Pleasure), by one writer of the time, it was praised for "relieving anxiety and bringing happiness."

It comes as no surprise then, that when a government wine monopoly was finally established during the reign of Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty, the tax revenues realized were tremendous. Private production and sale of wine were now forbidden, with non-conformance punished by severe measures. Although the new policy did not meet with the wholehearted approval of the common people, it lasted for more than 1,400 years; government controlled wine production was not abandoned until the Ming Dynasty.

After the Han Dynasty, China once more fell into a several-hundred-year period of disunity. An interesting anecdote from the Three Kingdom Period (220-280), at the beginning of this time, notes that of the three states then in contention for power (Wei, Wu, and Shu), only Wu allowed the drinking of wine.

Indeed, Sun Chuan, the leader of Wu, was a complete "wine fanatic." He sent his army, under command of the famous General Kan Ning, to do battle with the forces of the state of Wei, led by the historically famous Tsao Tsao. Sun Chuan personally brought food and a stock of the best available wines to the Wu camp to fete his troops. With the prompting of Kan Ning, the entire Wu army imbibed and, in high spirits in the middle of the night, marched into the Wei army camp, taking Tsao Tsao's troops completely by surprise and routing them.

Although Tsao Tsao's state of Wei supposedly enforced a prohibition against the consumption of wine, there is reason to believe that Tsao Tsao himself was an active imbiber. Among his recorded writings is a poem in which he laments, "To relieve this anxiety, there is only Tu Kang" (as previously mentioned, Tu Kang, the famous winemaker of the Chou Dynasty, had become a metaphor for wine).

Once more united again under the Sui Dynasty, at the end of the 6th Century A.D., China, through the ensuing Tang and Sung Dynasties, with the exception of a fifty-year period in between, experienced its most stable and prosperous times.

The general affluence of those years was reflected in the lifestyles of the people. Entertainment and the arts reached a zenith, and literature and poetry are specifically considered to have been in their "Golden Age." The consumption of wine went hand in hand with both entertainment and the arts. Musical gatherings, for example, would have always been accompanied by much drinking and merriment. And the inseparable communion between wine and literature and poetry, which had been seeded in China's prior period of disunity, was carried to unequal heights during the Tang and Sung Dynasties. (It really had such great impact on China's literary history, that this writer has chosen to deal with the subject as a separate part of this article.)

Also, China saw a great increase in the varieties of wines produced during this remarkable age, with new processing technology imported by way of the great Silk Road, which reached its own heights during the Tang Dynasty. Needless to say, government coffers were greatly enriched by the revenues from wider-scale wine consumption.

This period was also not without its wine-related political drama: When the first Sung Dynasty emperor took the throne, one of his high ministers feared a potential for organized treason among the various military units which had not yet been brought under centralized command. It was therefore suggested that the generals of those units be relieved of their posts, so control could be put directly under a new central administration.

However, Emperor Taitsu was undecided on how to address the problem, since the commanders of the units had all been brave and loyal, and partially responsible for his conquest of empire.

Calling a banquet of these generals, the Emperor explained his problem by claiming that it was not them he distrust­ed, but the military officers under them. At this point the generals, beginning to feel rather uneasy, prostrated themselves before the Emperor and begged him to suggest a solution. In effect, this was a plea for mercy, as the Emperor could easily have had them executed and been done with it once and for all.

Emperor Taitsu was not so hard­-hearted: He suggested that they would all do best to give up their military posts and lead comfortable lives of retirement, which he, as Emperor, would provide for them. Raising his wine glass, the Emperor asked them what they thought of his idea.

Then, realizing they had been spared possible death, their glasses all went up, and a resounding response of "Yes!" filled the hall. This event was crucial in the Emperor's centralization of military power, which ended a structural threat to his dynasty. This famous incident in Chinese history is popularly referred to as the "relinquishing of military command over a cup of wine."

In the following Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368), the Chinese were ruled by the Mongolians, their northern conquerors. Despite a declaration of prohibition at the beginning of the new dynasty (which didn't last long), it appears that the Mongolians, and the Chinese under their rule, were even more feveret drinkers than their predecessors. Marco Polo discussed the wine drunk by the Chinese at the time of the Yuan Dynasty:

"The greater part of the inhabitants of the province of Cathay drink a sort of wine made from rice mixed with a variety of spices and drugs. This beverage, or wine as it may be termed, is so good and well flavored that they do not wish for better. It is clear, bright and pleasant to taste, and being taken very hot, has the quality of making one drunk sooner than any other wine."

In another place, he describes the elaborateness of the Yuan Emperor's wine utensils:

"In the middle of the hall, where the Great Khan sits at table, there is a magnificent piece of furniture, made in the form of a square coffer, each side of which is three paces in length, exquisitely carved in figures of animals, and gilt. It is hollow within, for the purpose of receiving a capacious vase, of pure gold, calculated to hold many gallons. Within this buffet are also the cups or flagons belonging to His Majesty, for serving the liquors. Some of them are of beautiful gilt plate. Their size is such that, when filled with wine or other liquor, the quantity would be sufficient for eight or ten men."

Based on reports of the time, it seems to be an undisputable fact that the Mongol rulers were excessive drinkers. This, coupled with the fact that distilled spirits were introduced into China at that time, makes it hard not to believe reports that many Mongol rulers died of alcohol overconsumption.

Most of their banquets, which were enormous in size and scope, ended in total drunkenness. One record from the time describes the drinking part of a Mongol banquet:

"When the host sees his guests quite drunk and carrying on in a most noisy and unseemly manner, vomiting and laying stretched out on the floor, he joyously declares, 'By their drunkenness my guests show that we are of the same heart and mind.'"

No small wonder the Yuan Dynasty lasted only 98 years.

During the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), China was once more under native rule. In order now to relieve some of the taxation excesses of former dynasties, the government ended the official monopoly on wine manufacture and sale which had stood for almost 1,500 years.

In former days, prior to the establishment of the Han wine monopoly, many Chinese had made their own wines. In fact, Confucius went on record as saying that he refused to drink wine which was bought in the market. However, during the 1,400-plus years that the monopoly stood, ordinary people were afforded little choice.

With the repeal of the monopoly in the beginning of Ming times, the "family wine vat" once more came into vogue. Not that there wasn't wine produced for sale by ambitious merchants as well. But whether home brewed or bought at market, many new types of wine found their way into wine cups across China. Some were regional specialties eventually found only in a specific part of China. And the recipes for certain other wines were treasured family secrets passed down from generation to genera­tion. Needless to say, this private production proved to be a great stimulus to increased wine consumption throughout China.

In the succeeding Ching Dynasty (1644-1911), China was once more under non-native rule. And the new Manchurian rulers, like the two Mongolian dynasties before them, seemed to have quite a penchant for wine. Generally speaking, however, it appears that no very significant changes in wine consumption habits took place from the previous dynasty, other than an even further escalation in quantities drunk. Also, various forms of drinking games took on a greater popularity than during Ming times, at least as reflected in various novels of the period.

Within a goblet of unstrained wine, there lies the most subtle wisdom—line from a Chinese couplet

Some modern writers have claimed that the Chinese are lacking in wine varieties compared to the West, and that the Chinese are, also, not at all particular about what they drink, as long as there is something to be had. Whatever state the Chinese wine drinking art might find itself in today, there is ample evidence to prove that in former days, at least, such claims were far from accurate. Not only did each region of China have its own particular types of wine, further subdivided into local specialties, but rather specific criteria existed for determining the qualities of wine—criteria to which connoisseurs of the time paid exacting attention.

Though there is no clear distinction of terms on the basis of alcoholic content as there is in the West, and the Chinese term for "wine" is generally applied to all alcoholic beverages, there are definitive terms for other characteristics of wine-whether, for instance, it is strained, clear, sweet, thick, made from millet, rice, glutinous rice, is white in color, slightly green in color, and has specific use in rituals, to name just a few. Many of these terms of wine classification date from ancient times in China. A complete study would certainly show such classification to be far more extensive than anything which has ever existed in the West.

Nevertheless, the basic technique for the production of wine was similar. Fermented cakes would be added to cereal mash and then the mixture would be allowed to ferment for a specific period of time. Grain was used exclusively prior to the Tang Dynasty, as grapes were not grown in China prior to that time. Also, wine was allowed to ferment without added distillation, which was unknown prior to the Yuan Dynasty.

Millet was used most frequently in ancient China, with rice, glutinous rice, and other grains being employed later on. Of course, attention had to be paid to the various steps in making the wine, such as how long the grain was steamed prior to being mixed with the starter. And special care had to be taken during the incubation period, when the grain was mixed with the starter before sealing it in the val. However, the technique was not too difficult for the Chinese commoner in those times when private production was allowed. In fact, from the Ming Dynasty on, certain famous wines were produced at home only and were not for sale commercially.

Two such examples are Nu Erh Hung and Hua Tiao. Nu Erh Hung, which literally means "Daughter of Red Wine," was a wine that would be started when a family gave birth to a daughter. It would then be buried in the ground to age until the time came for the daughter to marry (at which time she would wear red); the wine vat was then dug up and the wine used to entertain the wedding guests.

Another version along similar lines was Hua Tiao, "Engraved-flower Wine." Some families would use ornately decorated wine vats to store the wine which they would bury for their daughters' weddings, and hence the name. The type of wine would be huang chiu (yellow wine), which is one of the two generalized divisions of Chinese wines, the other being pai chiu (white wine). The former was a rich amber color, contained about 15 percent alcohol, and was produced mostly in southern China. The latter was clear in color, had an alcohol content of about 40-60 percent, and was mostly a northern China product.

In terms of the actual variety of Chinese wine, depending on how many sources one refers to, the list can be quite extensive. For example, Chiu Shih (A History of Wine), written during the Ming Dynasty, lists over fifty different types from all parts of China, some much better known than others. On the list are such exotic wines as fragrant snake wine, fallen mulberry leaf wine, mushroom wine, etc. Lists from the Tang Dynasty were even more ex­tensive, containing beverages such as ginger wine, pomegranate wine, bamboo leaf wine, chrysanthemum wine (which was drunk on the Double-Ninth Festival), wines flavored with honey, saffron, etc. Many of these wines, however, are not manufactured today, as the techniques of production have not been handed down.

There were also categories of wines for special purposes, such as medicinal wines. The Ming Dynasty Compendium Materia Medica lists 66 different types of medicinal wines. Made either by brewing Chinese medicines with the wine at the time of production, or soaking medicinal plants in already fermented wine for a specific period of time, such brews could reputedly pre­vent and cure such afflictions as gout, high blood pressure, anemia, etc.

An example would be ginseng wine, made by soaking ginseng in white wine for a period of several months. It was and is consumed as a general tonic.

The most unusual medicinal wine was called Tu Su Chiu, and the technique of manufacture was supposedly a secret of the famous Three Kingdoms physician, Hua To. It was reputed to ward off all diseases and disease causing elements in any family which partook of it in a carefully prescribed way. This involved taking seven different types of Chinese medicine and 14 red beans and tying them together in a small cloth sack. This sack was then to be hung at the bottom of the family well on Lunar New Year's eve. On Lunar New Year's day, the medicine bag would be fetched from the well and boiled in white wine. Then each member of the family, young and old, would partake of the wine, and the medicine bag would be returned to the well. Drinking the well water, then, for a period of one year could supposedly insure a lifetime free of disease. No record was left for posterity, however, of the efficacy of the aforementioned wine by those who tried it.

There is little doubt that the most potent Chinese wine claimed is that mentioned in the pre-Tang literary collection, Sou Shen Chi, called "thousand day wine." The maker of this wine was one Ti Hsi, and one glass was enough to make a person drunk for one thousand days.

One story relates that one of the great drinkers of Ti Hsi's time was Liu Hsuan Shih. Passing by Ti Hsi's home village on one occasion, Liu decided to pay him a visit and see for himself if there was any truth to the rumor that Ti Hsi made an especially potent wine. At first, Ti Hsi was unwilling to give Liu any, on the pretext that it was not yet ready. However, Liu persisted and, finally, Ti Hsi gave in and brought him a glass.

Emptying the glass in one gulp, Liu commented on the wonderful taste of the wine and asked for more. Ti Hsi, at this point, became firm in his refusal and sent Liu home. Not quite home, Liu started to feel somewhat strange and, on arriving, soon fell into a drunken stupor which, in external appearances, resembled death. When he didn't come to after several days, his family took him for dead and had him buried with all due ceremony.

It came about that one day almost three years later, Ti Hsi, who had not heard what had befallen Liu, was in the area of Liu's former residence and decided to drop in. He was told that his friend Hsuan Shih had fallen into a stupor and died almost three years earlier. Ti Hsi slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "My wine at work again!"

Ti Hsi now related how Liu Hsuan Shih had insisted upon sampling the thousand day wine. And looking at the calendar now, Ti Hsi recognized that it just so happened that it was exactly a thousand days before that Liu had drunk the wine. He urged the family to accompany him at once to Liu's grave.

Upon arriving, they saw steam rising from the top of the grave. They quickly dug, soon uncovering Liu, who now sat up, as alive as ever.

The family was too shocked to speak, but Liu exclaimed: "Fantastic, fantastic. What kind of amazing wine was that anyway, which could make me drunk to such a degree on only one glass? What day is today, anyway?"

Upon hearing this, his family all broke into laughter. However, the smell of the wine from Liu's breath was so strong that on inhaling it, his whole family fell to the ground in a drunken stupor which lasted for three months.

Among the more common Chinese wines today are the fiery Maotai, which originated in Kueichow Province, Fen Chiu from Shanhsi, Ta Chu from Szechwan, and Shaohsing from Chekiang (of which Nu Erh Hung and Hua Tiao are two types). Concerning criteria for quality differentiation, the Book of Wine (Sung Dynasty) declares:

"Wine which is clear in color and very strong in taste is considered the best and is called the 'saint of wines.' That which is golden in color and full bodied, but with a slight bitterness, is next best and is called the 'sage of wines.' Wine which is dark in color and sour to the taste is the lowest grade of wine, and is hence called the 'idiot of wines.'"

Obviously, such criteria might not have held true in every instance, or even have been considered the final word on Chinese wine tasting, yet they do give us the basic idea. Even today, sour tasting wines are avoided as being inferior in quality.

Unlike Western wines, incidentally, which are often drunk chilled, Chinese wines were normally heated or drunk at room temperature. Not only was this considered essential to the proper flavor of the wine, but it was also considered detrimental to the health to drink cold al­coholic beverages.

Wine is the only thing for which there is no set limit; however, one should not drink to the point of indecorousness—Confucius.

Confucianism exhorts moderation-avoidance of excesses-in the regulation of one's life and affairs. The Chinese medical classics' views on the subject have been confirmed by modern research: that the consumption of wine in moderate quantities is beneficial to one's health, whereas excessive consumption brings with it a long list of physical maladies. In traditional Chinese' medicine, wine was also used for curing disease and in the preparation and administration of medicines. In tact, the character yi (to cure disease), uses the radical indicating wine.

The Ming Dynasty Compendium of Materia Medica says of wine: "Its taste is sweet and pungent, its nature hot and poisonous (many medicines were). Its indications are for increasing the power of medicines, combatting pernicious influences, increasing blood circulation, strengthening the digestive system, giving luster to the complexion, etc."

Most Chinese medical writers condemned excessive consumption of alcohol. "Excessive consumption of alcohol," states one, "injures the digestive system, disintegrates the marrow, and weakens the muscles. It injures the spirit and shortens one's life."

China's earliest medical classic, The Yellow Emperor's Classic of Internal Medicine, also warned that one's lifespan would be considerably shortened by immoderate alcohol consumption. Once again, the traditional view is upheld by modern scientific understanding, which shows chronic drinkers to suffer from such afflictions as ulcers, stomach cancer, high blood pressure, liver disease, etc.

Another interesting observation on alcohol abuse in the Yellow Emperor's Classic notes, "It is most detrimental to frequently enter a nuptial state when one is drunk." Although the Classic did not give any specific reason, modern research has indeed shown that heavy alcohol consumption can injure reproductive cells, and that babies so conceived frequently show signs of intelligence impairment after birth.

Poet Tao Yuan-ming (372-427), who could very well have been China's most committed drinker, had altogether five sons, born to two wives. And despite Tao Yuan-ming own literary brilliance, he found his five sons to be dull witted. Indeed, in one of his poems, he indicated that they had no interest in literary endeavors but were, in fact, quite stupid and lazy. Since Tao Yuan-ming made an effort to be drunk as often as possible, it seems rather likely that he has only himself to blame. "If fated to have sons like this," proclaims Tao, "what can one do but to continue pursuing the 'thing in the cup'?"

No banquet is complete without Wine—Chinese folk saying

The importance of wine in China as a social phenomenon, at least in the last few hundred years, might very well be foremost among all the nations of the world. Wherever the Chinese gathered for social interaction, at home with friends or in public places, as long as food was served, wine would inevitably be present as well.

In many instances, wine would be the reason for the gathering. Just as the literati had their get-togethers at which wine was principal, drinking fests among the common people were also quite common.

As the late Lin Yutang noted (and as anybody who has been to one can personally attest), traditional Chinese drinking parties are not dissimilar to outdoor sporting events in terms of the volume of noise. They are certainly no place for the timid at heart. Aided by the stimulating, inhibition-removing effects of the wine, they provide opportunity to temporarily forget the demands and rigidity of routine social strictures and, instead, to engage in a heightened, exhilarating sharing of comradery.

The Chinese have a phrase, chiu jou peng yu, which roughly translated means "wine and food friend." Although the general connotation is not ideal, neither is the concept scorned, much as we might be inclined to so believe. Even today, it is common for acquaintances who see each other, perhaps, once every half year or so, to meet at the drinking table and, after a few glasses and some choice dishes, carryon with their arms around each other's shoulders like blood brothers. Or, for people who have never met before to carryon like lifetime acquaintances once the wine starts flowing, although they might acknowledge one another with no more than a nod of the head, meeting on the street at some future date. If this seems somewhat insincere by conventional Western standards, it is actually a real part of the magic which takes place at the Chinese drinking table.

Chinese drinking parties are by no means meant to be hurried affairs. Dishes are brought slowly, usually one at a time. A Chinese banquet table, which is usually round, seats about 10-12 persons. At one such table, as many as four or five separate conversations may be going on at the same time. Three or four such tables at a party, in close proximity to one another, produce the low roar which Lin compares to a sporting event.

At any given time, anyone at the table may pick up his wine cup and toast any other person or persons seated at the table. The person being toasted responds, of course, by picking up his glass and drinking as well. In past days in China, it was considered proper manners, when drinking a toast, to hold the cup in one hand and use the sleeves of the robe of the other to cover from view both the cup and the motion of the cup going to one's lips.

When all have eaten and are no longer hungry, although dishes will still continue to be placed on the table, atten­tion turns almost exclusively to drinking. It is usually at this time that the guests start to play the various wine games designed to encourage drinking. Depending on the literary level of the participants, these might include various word games.

The simplest, and perhaps most common of all drinking games is hua chuan, played between two participants. They each extend zero to five fingers, while simultaneously shouting their estimated total for all extended fingers. If neither guesses correctly, the procedure is repeated until one is correct, in which case the other is obligated to drink a small cup of wine as "penalty." With experienced players, the pace is furious, and the noise of their shouts eventually escalates to a roar. The amount of penalty wine drunk usually becomes substantial. Descriptions of such wining-dining affairs are presented in astounding detail in novels of the Ming and Ching Dynasties- Hung Lou Meng (Dream of the Red Chamber) and Chin Ping Mei (Golden Lotus) are representative.

Although it was not uncommon for family and friends to gather in the home for drinking, wine shops were also im­mensely popular places for relieving a parched throat, and in China's major cities, could be found in every size and description to suit every possible taste.

Small taverns might serve wine from pewter pitchers ladled full from huge wine vats, in full view of the customers. Such minor establishments usually offered nothing fancy in the way of culinary accompaniment, other than a few small dishes known in Chinese as hsia chiu tsai (wine dishes).

The Chinese almost never drink without the addition of some small dishes, a habit which can be traced back to the Han Dynasty. At some places, only one type of wine might be available. Upon entering, one needed only to indicate the amount one wanted to drink (by weight, incidentally, and not volume or number of glasses) and how many small dishes.

As the food in such places was not necessarily of a high standard, it was considered acceptable to bring one's own food, or to purchase it at small shops which made food specifically for con­sumption at nearby drinking establishments.

The most elaborate of wine shops, from recorded descriptions, stagger the mind. In the Sung capital of Kaifeng, many of the higher class wine shops were former official residences which had been taken over and converted. Some contained upwards of 100 private rooms for entertaining customers, and their decoration was not a far cry from what one might see in the emperor's palace.

Wine goblets and services of pure silver and gold were at hand, depending on the preference and pocketbook of the customer. Some places offered hundreds of first-class dishes to choose from, and the choicest wines from all over China.

These establishments were usually more than just places for eating and drinking. The term "wine house" in those days also included houses of pleasure where, for a price, those so inclined could be entertained with feminine companions as well as immerse themselves in eating, drinking, and the "pursuit of happiness"—for hours or days, as they desired.

When Marco Polo visited China during the following Yuan Dynasty, many such establishments, especially in the once Southern Sung capital of Hangchow, were still operating at full glory. And although his comments did ritually lament the decadence of such unbridled pursuit of pleasure, also detectable in his tone is a certain admiration for the capacity of the Chinese for enjoying themselves.

There is nothing to compare with a cup of wine in one's hand. How often in a lifetime does, one see the full moon overhead?—Chinese couplet

Consider Lin Yutang's astute observation: "The most essential materials for the practice of poetry, painting, or calligraphy are two liquids-ink and liquor. "

Indeed, Chinese wine found its highest and most noble realization in its manifest partnership with the Chinese literati. It would perhaps be unfair to say that China's scholars could not have functioned without wine, but it is probable, at least, that the works which they produced would have been considerably less animated and moving in its absence.

Starting with the Wei Tsin period at the end of the Han Dynasty, and continuing to our modern era, China's scholars and artists of name were all members of the "cult of the thing in the cup." Whether drinking alone, in selective drinking cliques, or at literary gatherings, the Chinese scholar's hand was seldom far from his wine cup.

Not that all were heavy drinkers; some of the best, such as Su Tung-po (of the Sung Dynasty), had what Lin Yutang called that "sentiment for wine," if not an actual capacity for such. But despite his moderate drinking, Su Tung-po's poetry and prose are scattered throughout with references to wine.

Tao Yuan-ming, considered by some to be China's greatest early poet, either directly mentions or makes reference to wine in more than sixty percent of his works. This phenomenon, which appears to be unique to Chinese culture, has animated centuries of art and literature in China, leaving a legacy for later generations as fresh today as it was then.

China's first major drinking group on record, the Seven Sages of the Bam­ boo Grove, is recorded in detail in various literary works from the 4th Century on. Bamboo has always been a symbol of great importance to the scholar in China, symbolizing the highest order of moral behavior and human aspiration. And scholars in ancient and modern China often set their literary gatherings in and around bamboo forests.

The leader of the Seven Sages, at least in terms of capacity for alcohol, was Liu Ling, a former military official. Disillusioned with the corrupt political situation during this Chinese period of disunity, he opted for a hermitage to pursue affairs of a more scholarly nature.

But he was a seasoned hand at drinking, and it was recorded that he would ride round the country in a cart drawn by a deer, drinking from a gourd of wine as he traveled. By Liu Ling's side walked a servant carrying a shovel; if asked for what purpose, Liu Ling would reply: "So he may bury me wherever I happen to drop dead."

Another report notes that Liu Ling was in the habit of drinking heavily, and that when guests came to visit, he might greet them in the buff. When his guests would laugh and question him about his state, he would reply: "Heaven and earth (nature) are my house and this shack is my undergarment. Why have you good gentlemen come into my undergarment? "

Living at approximately the same time as Liu Ling was the writer Tao Yuan-ming, whose works express a vibrant love of life and nature in simple, unadorned language which finds its source of beauty in the Taoist concept of non-doing.

Also originally an official, Tao Yuan-ming too found the demands of Chinese bureaucracy intolerable, and gave up his official post and retired to the country. In rather tight financial straits, he managed to eke out enough for his family to eat by farming the land, and had no money now for his truest love, "the thing in the cup." However, friends and relatives who were better off financially than Tao Yuan-ming would often invite him to drink.

When he drank it was always to drunkenness, it was said, and he was often drunk for days at a time. But his love for spirits did not seem to negatively affect his human sensibilities. At one point, when he was slightly better off financially, he employed a male servant for his eldest son, who was apparently no longer living at home. But before his son went off with the servant, Tao Yuan-ming admonished the son to treat the man well, saying that he, too, was "somebody's son." Tao Yuan-ming's humanitarian outlook has since moved generations of Chinese.

The golden age of the Tang Dynasty records another famous drinking group: The Eight Drunken Immortals included Li Po, himself called the "wine immortal." He is generally recognized as China's foremost poet. One very famous story clearly illustrates both Li Po's love of wine and his artistic ability while under its influence:

Li Po had a habit in those days of going to the taverns of Changan, the Tang capital, and after getting thoroughly plastered, falling asleep at the table. Of course, due to Li Po's reputation as one of China's greatest literary figures, none of the tavern owners objected.

Once, Emperor Hsuantzung desired some lyrics for a song and declared that he wanted them written by no one but Li Po. Courtiers sent to fetch the poet could not find him until someone tipped them that he was probably asleep at one of his favorite drinking places. And sure enough, they found him, stone drunk and fast asleep, in a tavern.

They dragged Li Po into a carriage and off to the palace, but when they brought him before the Emperor, he had still not yet come to, and they had to throw a bucket of cold water on him. As he gradually came to, he finally realized he was in front of the Emperor, to deepening panic. However, the Emperor had great respect for Li Po and told him not to worry about the formalities of court-that all he wanted of the poet was lyrics for a song.

Immediately, the palace eunuchs had brush and paper set before him and, still quite drunk, Li Po picked up the brush to write, but then decided that he was not comfortable with his shoes on. Sticking his feet out to Kao Li-shih (who was, unknown to Li Po, one of the Emperor's highest ministers), he requested him to pull off his shoes. Kao, turning red with anger, but not willing to do anything which might obstruct the lyrical flow the Emperor desired, had no choice but to comply. And shoes off, Li Po finished the lyrics quickly and passed them to the Emperor for inspection. The Emperor was immensely pleased and had the lyrics immediately put to music. And quite obviously, Li Po amply demonstrated his great poetic ability while under the influence.

Literary gatherings at which the drinking of wine was a principal activity were not limited to prearranged groups, but could be spontaneous—whenever scholars had an opportunity to assemble.

The noted Sung scholar Su Tung-po would often get together with contemporaries Mi Fei and Tsai Hsiang, also calligraphers and scholars of no small merit, to engage in literary pursuits. Both records of the time and their writings indicate that there was no shortage of wine in such instances, and that many of their best works were no doubt produced under such circumstances.

During the wine parties of scholars, when they weren't engaged in writing or painting, there were numerous literary wine games to spark their interest and keep the wine flowing. Most such games involved matching poetic lines or creating poetry from various quotations from the literary classics. A player who faltered would have to drink a glass of wine. Such games not only tested the scholars' knowledge of the classics, but kept their poetry in good form.

Given the apparent degree of wine consumption by almost all the scholars of old China, the questions come quickly to mind: Weren't China's scholars mostly alcoholics, and wasn't the great body of Chinese art and literature the work of such alcoholics?, and, Isn't it excessive for over sixty percent of the works of one of China's major poets to deal directly or indirectly with the subject of wine? To fully answer such questions, one needs to know a bit about Chinese political history as well as the state of mind of the Chinese scholar.

In days gone by in China, even under what might then be considered an enlightened emperor and a liberal administration, freedom of expression was still very limited, and its free exercise could well bring disaster on one's head. Individuals with special ability for literary expression were well advised not to devote such ability to writing about political affairs, but to turn their efforts to a much safer topic-nature.

Looking over centuries of Chinese art and literature, that which now strikes us as the most worthwhile is that which now seems to have been the most recurrent theme. And not that the majority of China's scholars did not participate in government: most of them did, for that was the main career road for a scholar in China. However, the number of truly brilliant scholars who managed to pursue lifetime political careers without being forced from office in disgrace or leaving in disgust (if wise enough to choose the latter) is extremely small.

Indeed, most all of the luminaries of Chinese art and literature had extremely unfulfilling political careers. Virtually the only outlets for their political frustrations were China's towering mountains, bamboo groves, rushing streams, and brilliant moon (which was believed to be superior here to anywhere in the world).

In addition, the rigidity of traditional Chinese society, bound through most every dynasty from the Han on by excessive application of Confucian ideals, actively stifled the creative element. Not that Confucianism did not serve a very positive role, rationally applied, in maintaining social order. But in the area of art and literature, it finally inhibited individual creativity and expression. And it is here that the use of wine by Chinese scholars comes in. Wine was the medium that allowed them to break away temporarily from the rigidity that society imposed and from the frustrations of the political arena. It facilitated temporary haven in their own self expression, which found a focal point in nature.

The famous Sung man of letters, Ouyang Hsiu, maintained: "The drinker's interest is not in the wine, but in the mountains and rivers." Indeed, most all of the famous literary gatherings took place outdoors, in a nature setting. Wine could allow those assembled to forget themselves and a disappointing reality, but also to experience a more direct connection with the natural environment and to express that connection in a creative, unrestricted manner. For in general, self expression was not an attribute of Chinese society; only under the influence of wine was it lovingly accepted.

It is not surprising, then, when Li Po proclaimed: "Never am I as genuine or sincere as when drunk." The Chinese scholar used wine as an "excuse" to underwrite self-expression in word or action, a human right which could not really have been realized otherwise.

Looking at the legacy of the Chinese literary and artistic tradition, it still strikes us today as alive and moving as it must have been in its most golden eras, and its representatives are equally inspiring.

If Li Po's death, for instance, is to be considered a tragic one (he reportedly fell into a lake and drowned while drunkenly trying to hug the reflection of the moon in the water), it must also serve as a potent reminder of the fleeting quality and fragility of all human existence in the face of the awesomeness and beauty of nature. That is what almost all great Chinese art and literature has tried to express. There is little question that the "thing in the cup" played a most important role in the composition of such noble visions.