Scent of a woman and her time
The ancient Silk Road opened up Tang Dynasty China to the world. Zhao Xu reports
Imagine an aristocratic woman during the Tang Dynasty (618907) more than a millennium ago. Exuberantly beautiful, a lush pile of hair spirals from the crown of her head like a pond snail. Dressed in a low-cut, bust-revealing gown with silken luster that accentuates her opulent beauty, she is glamorous and sensuous, and no doubt fully aware of her own allure.
She seeks to further enhance that charm, partly by immersing herself in an aromatic scent that, despite its origin in faraway lands, has become le parfum de l’epoque.
Potent and hypnotising, the aroma not only adds an edge of seduction to the indolence of this wellpampered woman, but also offers a metaphor for an era in Chinese history known for its prowess in nation-building and diplomacy.
The Famen Temple Museum, about 70 miles from presentday Xi’an — the temple’s name means “a passage to the land of Buddhism” — was once the place of worship for Tang rulers. Its director, Jiang Jie, says: “For those in the know, this typical image of a Tang court woman is in itself a reflection of the exchanges between China and the land lying to its west, through the extending route known today as the Silk Road.
“The scent resulted from the burning of spices that came all the way from places including the Eurasian steppes, the Indian subcontinent and the shores of the Arabian Sea. The practice, apart from feeding a romantic need, also had a practical side: the strong smell acted to repel insects, mosquitoes for example, and to make sure that the women, while proudly exposing their glacial skin on a hot summer’s day, did not have to lose their composure because of a gnawing bite.
“This is very important, because climate scientists now believe that the Tang Dynasty, especially the first half of it between the early seventh and mid-ninth centuries, lived through a general rise in temperatures that, in retrospect, aided the society’s propensity for flimsy clothing and fragrant scents.”
Even the fashion sense of the time, with a level of daring unrepeated by any subsequent Chinese dynasty, was formed partly due to this influence from the west, Jiang says.
“It seems that the hot wind blowing from the Gobi Desert and beyond reached and tickled at the heart of the Chinese empire.”
Stretching over vast areas of Eurasia in today’s Mongolia and northwest China, the seemingly boundless Gobi Desert presided over the ancient Silk Road that cut through it. The road itself was first opened by a man named Zhang Qian, who, acting as an envoy for Emperor Wudi (156-87 BC) of the Han Dynasty, embarked on his westward journey from the city of Chang’an, the Han capital, in 139 BC. When he returned 13 years later, he brought back with him the knowledge of a new route that could lead to both military allies and trading partners, and, hopefully, admirers.
For the next millennia, the road, named after Chinese silk, its most famous commodity, was explored by the ambitious and adventurous from both sides, until it became a fully developed transport network traversing Eurasia. At one end of it was the Chinese empire, and at the other end the Mediterranean countries and Rome. The road, with more than a few tributaries to reach the surrounding regions, cut through diverse terrains and disparate cultures.
The traffic on the road reached its peak with the rise of the Tang Empire, which put an end to the four centuries of war and fragmentation that separated it from its equally great predecessor, the Empire of Han. The two golden eras in Chinese history hold up mirrors to each other, in social wealth and confidence, as well as a willingness to know and be known.
“The early rulers of Tang … tried to cut the level of luxury they allowed to themselves and society in general.” Jiang says. “But when immense social wealth soon started to accumulate, and when military triumphs pushed the borders of the empire outside, further strengthening safety on the Chinese section of the Silk Road, things started to take on a hedonistic aspect.
“The popularity of spice again soared. People would sit around long tables with big incense burners placed on top.”
Most imported spice was turned into wafts of holy smoke during religious activities in Buddhist temples, including the Famen Temple. Part of the few remaining scent-mixing recipes dating back to that era can be found today in Buddhist writings from the same time.