“Gu Chu” is my primary pen name, that is to say, the one I prefer first, like best, and use most often. Of course, if there is a primary pen name, then there is naturally a secondary one as well: the default “Xingding” under which I post articles here. Its original purpose was simply to keep search engines from finding my Suixuan so easily, because the word “Gu Chu” is probably unique in the whole world—search it and everything you get is me—so I used the word “Xingding,” which when searched turns up all sorts of random odds and ends, instead. But now that I think about it, it hardly matters; I’m just too lazy to change it back. “Xingding” is pretty good too. In addition, I have already settled on a third pen name, which may be used for anonymous postings. But in any case, I have not published much of anything yet, and I do not want to publish anything right now either; over the long term these pen names have little formal use. All in all, it is still just self-amusement……
The meaning of “Suixuan” has already been explained in an earlier post; today let me also explain the origin of “Gu Chu.”
The creation of this name was initially pure coincidence. My original online name had always been “510,” the Shanghai-dialect homophone of my real name. Later I increasingly felt that name was too monotonous, but I never came up with a suitable one. Once, while playing with the “Hanwang handwriting pen” (note: the Hanwang handwriting pen is a very good thing; not only are its recognition rate and speed excellent, but anything in the GBK character set—simplified, traditional, and all kinds of freakish characters—it can write! By comparison, typing the character “雴” with pinyin under the Quanpin input method requires turning 17 pages, and the key is that you have to know the pronunciation in advance. For entering classical Chinese, the Hanwang handwriting pen is just perfect~), I casually wrote out this character and felt it was不错, so I started using it. As for the various meanings I am about to explain below, they are all interpretations made after the fact…… (People often provide many after-the-fact explanations or justifications for behaviors that were originally merely impulsive, spur-of-the-moment acts, don’t they? Existentialism says it well here: “existence precedes essence”; some things are already “there” long before people explain “why” they exist.)
“Gu Chu” is “half” of my real name—split each character in two, take one half, then combine the rain radical and li…… That sounds rather dull, doesn’t it? Not much more creative than the “510” I used before, but well, let it be.
But “half” suggests that in my writing only “half of me” is manifested, much like what Wittgenstein said: the other half is the “unsayable” “mystery” — “Anyone who understands me eventually recognizes, when he has used these propositions as steps to climb beyond them, that they are nonsensical. (To say it in another way: after climbing up to the heights he must throw away the ladder.) One must remain silent about what cannot be spoken of.” (The final two paragraphs of the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus)
Although the issue is not quite the same as Wittgenstein’s, the principle is roughly similar: whoever understands me will “throw away” all my words; the real me lies on the other side of the text. (Of course, there are probably quite a few people who can “throw away” my words; as for people who understand me, well……)
The other half of my name is “moon,” “forest,” and “wings.” Imagine it as a picture or a mood—“bright moon, secluded forest, feathered wings”—what else need be written? Any verbal explanation is destructive.
The character “Gu” mainly serves as a filler. Its most direct function is that others can call me “Xiao Gu” or “Gu xiong” and the like, which are more natural-sounding forms of address, whereas my real name is comparatively awkward and hard to remember. But I am indeed someone who values the old; call it staid or call it odd, in any case I’m probably a bit weird in that old-fashioned, peculiar sort of way. In the past I would repeatedly emphasize in advance that I was actually very “normal,” but now I think it is better to let new friends first think I am very strange, and then slowly discover that I am “actually quite normal” — that is better than gradually discovering my oddness.
By the way, doesn’t the character “Gu” look like the female symbol turned upside down: “♀”? Hehe, do not be surprised; this really is one of the intentions behind my name. Of course, the symbol is inverted, after all I am indeed male. But the character “Gu,” as well as the character “雴,” which is so often mistaken for “雯,” both contain an implication of femininity; I made that deliberate! Of course, don’t misunderstand me: whether in appearance or in temperament, I am still worlds away from so-called “androgyny.” It is much like someone who appreciates Venus may not themselves have anything close to Venus. I have never concealed my appreciation of “women,” and in some situations I even take pride in calling myself a “feminist.” Of course, this is my serious philosophical orientation, absolutely not a bid to curry favor with women. In fact, my “feminism” is not something that most women would easily accept either. “Male-ism” is the “default configuration” of this society; whether male or female, if one has never consciously “reflected,” one is almost certainly a male-ist.
Unless there happens to be an acquaintance nearby whose name contains the character “雴,” it is impossible to know its pronunciation. As for how it is read, if you do not know, you might as well check it yourself (of course, you won’t find it in places like the Xinhua Dictionary, but in fact you can find it in Word: just copy the character you want to look up into Word (version 2000 or later), click the “Pinyin Guide” button, or find “Pinyin Guide” under the “Phonetic Guide” submenu in the Chinese Layout submenu under the Format menu, and you can immediately get the pinyin. Very convenient.)
One layer of meaning in choosing this peculiar character is that it can hint to the viewer at the wonder of Chinese characters! So-called “writing” in the West is basically just a “recording” of speech; the “information” contained in Western “writing” is not much more than that contained in the language itself. But Chinese “writing” and “speech” are almost two different systems; the “Chinese character” carries far too much that spoken Chinese cannot carry. In today’s world there are only two influential forms of “writing” altogether—the first is alphabetic writing, the second is Chinese characters. Remember: nothing can replace Chinese characters. Even if foreign languages can replace Chinese speech, foreign writing can never replace Chinese writing.
The character “rain” originally ought to have been included among the “unsayable” part as well, but seeing as this character is too important to me, I still have to force myself to speak it. I have already mentioned some of my fixation on rainwater in previous blog posts, so I will not say much here.
The character “li” means “to stand,” “to establish,” and so on. “Stand up first, then speak!” Zhang Zai’s “Establish the mind for Heaven and Earth, establish the destiny for the people; continue the lost teachings of the sages of former times, and bring great peace to the world for all generations” once I tried to use as a motto. Of course, now I have long since switched to my own original “starry-sky philosophy.” By the way, Zhang Zai’s “establish the destiny for the people” and “bring great peace to the world for all generations” have now, in the sense of a motto, been abandoned by me! What I still persist in is “establishing the mind for Heaven and Earth” and “continuing the lost teachings of the sages of former times,” but even these are no longer “principles” in the strict sense. What are the key words in Zhang Zai’s line? — “establish the mind,” “establish the destiny.” For whom to establish it, why establish it, how to establish it, and so on are all secondary questions; the first thing is that you have to “stand up” before anything else!
In addition, in terms of “establishing,” this is also my academic attitude—first stand firm in your position, then consider how to refute others. I do not like those people who tear apart others’ theories to the point of nothing, who “criticize” existing things (such as political systems and the like) until they seem utterly worthless, as if that were somehow very satisfying—yet what better thing can you yourself “establish”? Who can’t nitpick and find fault? Philosophy certainly requires drilling into horns, but more often philosophy is drilling into one’s own horn, engaging in self-reflection and self-criticism, rather than taking pleasure in refuting others. Stand up first, then speak!
Finally, the two characters “Gu Chu”…… aren’t they symmetrical left to right, eh? It’s just that they are a little bit asymmetrical, for example the dot on the character “li”…… Symmetry is a kind of beauty, and within symmetry there is the slightest bit of “rupture,” which is the most beautiful thing of all; this is naturally how it is.
August 10, 2006
Latest Comments
- Chu Jing
2008-08-14 14:15:50 Anonymous 59.66.219.52
Hehe
- Shao Chuan
2008-10-17 20:12:32 Anonymous 210.192.102.240
The first thing I did when I came here for the first time was to look up the character “雴” on Baidu, and then I admitted my own ignorance and the wonder of Chinese characters; the second thing was to read the guide and then this post. A name so strange could be explained by the blogger so ultimately, and I began to admit my own incompetence and the wonder of the world……

Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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