In order to discuss our problem I propose to adopt a definition of art as an ensemble of man-made objects of specific character, of materials, tools and institutions, of people—those who produce and those who commission or look at works of art—and of techniques and skills mastered by the artists. Art—so broadly understood—has no sharp limits, it is an area connected by hundreds of links with the whole of social, economic, intellectual and spiritual life. It is exposed to various disturbances since any one occurring in those other areas with which art is connected must of necessity affect art and its development to a greater or smaller degree. Lack of demand for some kind of artistic products must lead to the extinction of the corresponding kind of production. For instance, images of saints disappeared in those parts of Germany which adopted the Reformation. One can say in general, that, since various factors of social and economic character influence the life of art, it must reflect the results of those crises which affect social, political or economic life, although the way art reacts on various disturbances may be varied. It may seem natural that in a period of unemployment and of high prices society cannot afford to devote as much money to invest in the goods of culture as it does in times of prosperity, and often it is so indeed.

The geographical Utopias that present a New World, from classical Antiquity and the Middle Ages to the exploration and conquest of American territories by Spain, give a two-fold vision of the myth of gold. On the one hand, the legendary lands in which were found the wealth and power generated by the coveted metal—El Dorado, El Paititi, the City of the Caesars—establish the direction of a venture toward the unknown, and a geography of the imaginary marked the ubiquitous sign of the mythical gold. But at the same time, America permitted the felicitous re-encounter in its territory of the Golden Age that had been lost in the Old World. The first steps of Western man toward the American adventure wavered contradictorily between these extremes, in that gold was at the same time “booty and marvel.”

In the novel Die Automate (Hoffmann, 1957 ed.), the German writer Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann (1776-1822) describes different kinds of musical automatons which play music with expression and musicality. The whole novel is based on the effect of the automatic performances on the feelings of the two personages and on the appearance of musical automatons which simulate, with their musical skill and expressiveness, the structures of the knowledge and feelings of human beings.

“And so the spirit looks neither ahead nor behind: the present alone is our joy”. This verse form Goethe's Faust Part Two expresses a manner of concentrating oneself on the present instant, of recognizing the value of this instant, corresponding to a type of experience of time which was felt quite strongly in ancient philosophies such as Epicureanism and Stoicism. It is primarily this type of experience which will be considered here. But we cannot overlook the literary context in which these verses appear and the significance they assumed in Faust Part Two and in Goethe's oeuvre in general. In this respect we can remark that Goethe himself is a telling witness to the type of experience that we are going to describe.

To those who have observed it for a long time, the People's Republic of China today has the appearance of a convalescent who has made his way back from a long illness and is slowly relearning to use his vital organs. And this is the consequence of the decisive and remarkable measures taken after the death of Mao Tse-tung and the subsequent elimination of his abusive widow, Chiang Ch'ing, by survivors of the great cultural revolution, now in the upper circles of the Chinese Communist party. Explanations were provided in the “Resolution on the History of the Chinese Communist Party” adopted June 27, 1981, at the Sixth Plenary Session of the Central Committee of the Eleventh Party Congress. But the real turning point dates from 1978, in the historic third session of this same Eleventh Congress when the opposition to Mao's chosen successor, Hua Guo-feng, called upon participants to “liberate their minds and to seek truth in the facts”. A new People's China had begun to take shape, and although it is not yet possible to pass judgement on its future prospects, visitors who travel there today can only bear witness to the return of this immense population to existential reality, while little by little the “barracks socialism” of the ultra-leftists is dying out.

It is not the purpose of this short essay to try the impossible and give an adequate historical survey of the Western image (or rather images) of China. There is, moreover, a vast literature on the subject to which both sinologists and historians of European culture have contributed. The following paragraphs will restrict themselves to two poles in this history: the perception and reception of China in the 17th century (with Leibniz as the most significant and impressive representative of the period)—in other words the image of China as current among the philosophes i.e., the pre-enlightenment, still Christian humanists, none of which was (or could have been) a sinologist properly speaking—and again at the end of the 19th century, when academic sinology began to get into stride. Without in any way detracting from the significance of his great predecessors and contemporaries, especially Marcel Granet, we shall limit our discussion to J.J.M. de Groot (Leiden and Berlin, d. 1921).

In all societies that have arrived at a certain degree of social differentiation, there are two types of culture that may be qualified respectively as “popular” and “lettered”. Popular culture is that of the people as opposed to the dominant political and intellectual classes. The latter two may be distinct (but allied), as in ancient India with the pair Brahman-kshatriva. or mixed as in Confucian China with the bureaucracy of scholars-civil servants. The duality between the two kinds of culture may become less distinct with the democratization of power and education as well as with the omnipresent symbolic universe of the media. None the less, it survives, as has been proven by all sociological research on the nature of leisure time as employed by classes in industrial societies, in the “West” and in the “East”.