草船借箭 (Cǎo Chuán Jiè Jiàn, or “Borrowing Arrows with Straw Boat”) is one of many stories within the larger narrative of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
The story starts with a war meeting called by the general Zhou Yu. Zhou Yu does not trust Kong Ming (also sometimes referred to as Zhuge Liang), an allied strategist, and attempts to set him up for failure by requesting him to prepare 100,000 arrows for an attack within ten days– a completely unrealistic task, since there is no way for Kong Ming to produce so many arrows. It is even more shocking when Kong Ming offers to complete this impossible task within only three days.
All hope seems lost, but Kong Ming devises a clever plan: he covers 20 boats with bundles of straw, and on the third night when a thick fog sets in, he sets off towards the enemy camp. The enemies, fearing an attack, immediately begin firing into the darkness. Their arrows lodge into the straw bundles, and Kong Ming eventually retreats with each boat carrying five to six thousand arrows, fulfilling his quota and saving himself from execution.
The Three Kingdoms stories contain many instances of strategic brilliance like this– the triumph of intelligence over pure force. This specific story is very well known, and is commonly referenced in modern adaptations. One such adaptation is an art piece made by Cai Guo-Qiang.
Created in 1998, this art installation is constructed from an abandoned boat that Cai Guo-Qiang found in his hometown Chenzhou, which he then covered with 3000 Chinese made arrows, as well as a Chinese flag. In its exhibit at the MoMA, Cai Guo-Qiang explains the artwork’s cultural significance and message.
The boat is, to him, a representation of China (as displayed by the Chinese flag). The arrows, while literally paralleling the famous story, are also symbolic of external forces that have been acting on China ever since their entry onto the global stage. On one hand, Cai explains how each arrow is like one of the many “wounds” China has suffered in a cultural sense, as its ideals and beliefs clash with other nations. On the other hand, however, these “wounds” have also helped to make China stronger. Despite being fully covered, the boat itself remains intact, symbolizing endurance and tenacity. Additionally, through its interactions with foreign nations and cultural and global exchanges, China has grown to become one of the leading superpowers of the world. Just like the enemy’s attacks were repurposed by Kong Ming, China moves forward with arrows lodged into its hull, having only grown stronger from its interactions with external forces, and transforming its struggles into resilience and resources.
At the time of this boat’s creation, these ideas were especially relevant. The end of the 20th century was synonymous with rapid economic and industrial growth within the country, and China was definitely absorbing plenty of arrows from the rest of the world, in the form of modern technology that would greatly aid its development. Additionally, China was facing a lot of external criticism for things like the Tiananmen Square protests less than a decade earlier, or the handover of Hong Kong from just a year before. Due to this, there was definitely a strong idea of “us versus the world”, which made unifying pieces of Chinese nationalism very relevant.
Cai Guo-Qiang also discusses the actual visuals of the art piece. Unlike a traditional boat that sails on water, this boat is suspended in midair. In his words, the feathers of the arrows have transformed into wings, turning the boat into a flying bird. This is a fascinating visual, and gives off a sense of freedom and transcendence. By definition, flight is a way of “rising above”. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that, in person, one would have to look upwards at the exhibit. This could simultaneously be trying to show that China is trying to “rise above” its past struggles, as well as creating a perception of China’s superiority over the rest of the world.
Calling it a “bird” also attaches this inherent idea of life to the artwork. By viewing the work as a “bird” instead of a “boat”, the Chinese metaphor is not just one of endurance and survival, but also evolving and growing, as all living things do.
One final important point of discussion to consider is what is missing from this adaptation. In both this artwork as well as other modern adaptations, Zhou Yu’s role has been removed, and the story has just simply become “Kong Ming needs to get arrows for battle”. It has become a tale much more focused on tactical genius and not so much any form of complex politics. This is somewhat visible in Cai’s work– the sole focus of the piece is the boat, and there is no indication of any external factors. The only thing we should see is the individual brilliance of Kong Ming (and by metaphorical extension, China). This new version emphasizes individual resourcefulness, placing less of a focus on things like deceit. Although the enemy is still being tricked, there is unity from within, just like there should be unity within China.
Overall, Cai Guo-Qiang’s work is a beautiful reframing of a classic Chinese story. In a single work, he is able to showcase all of the important parts of the story, whilst naturally blending in his own meanings and beliefs. It is an excellent piece of Chinese nationalism, perfectly combining the country’s present state of affairs with an important piece of classical culture.
To see the MoMA audio description, go here: https://www.moma.org/audio/playlist/182/2432