Tushy Jia Lissa Entanglements Part 2 1911

The relationship between Jia and Lissa is marked by reciprocal disorientation: Jia teaches Lissa Chinese calligraphy, while Lissa introduces Jia to the “new camera language.” Their entanglement is emblematic of the broader transnational entanglements that defined early‑modern Shanghai—a city where Chinese merchants negotiated with foreign banks, and where revolutionary ideas circulated through cafés, newspapers, and photographic studios. Their partnership, fraught with moments of misunderstanding and mutual fascination, dramatizes the possibility of hybrid identity in an age of upheaval.


“The term ‘tushy’ is a mis‑transliteration. The original Chinese reads ‘土師’, a title for a class of alchemists who regarded the earth as a living teacher. Their practice involved entangling the material with the spiritual—a concept that resonates with the modern notion of quantum superposition.”


“The brass case is unlike any curiosity I have ever seen. Its interior glints with a strange light when the sun catches it. I cannot help but feel we have been handed a key—though the keyhole is hidden.” tushy jia lissa entanglements part 2 1911

The use of the word “tushy” as a titular signifier destabilises the patriarchal silencing of female bodily agency. By foregrounding the posterior—traditionally relegated to the realm of the obscene—the narrative reclaims a “seat of power” (Harper 2012). This aligns with contemporary suffragist pamphlets that demanded “the right to sit in Parliament” (Kelley 1910).

When the dust‑laden crates from the SS Marlowe were finally unloaded at the Port of Shanghai in late 1911, a single, unassuming wooden box captured the imagination of the world’s most intrepid explorers. Inside lay a collection of intricately carved ivory figurines, a set of silk scrolls, and, most baffling of all, a small, brass‑cased device that would soon be christened the Tushy Jia Lissa Entanglement. The relationship between Jia and Lissa is marked

The first part of this saga—published in The Chrononaut Chronicle’s “Entanglements” series in 1910—introduced the discovery of the original “Jia Lissa” tablet in a hidden tomb beneath the cliffs of Luoyang. But what happened after the tablet’s translation sparked a flurry of scientific speculation? What secret lies hidden within the 1911 brass case? And why has the term “tushy” become a cryptic footnote in every academic paper that follows?

In Part 2, we trace the journey of the 1911 find from its unassuming arrival in Shanghai to its eventual, controversial placement in the London Museum of Antiquities. We will interview the key players, examine the primary documents, and explore the most daring hypotheses that have arisen in the last fifteen years. “The term ‘tushy’ is a mis‑transliteration


A weather‑worn cargo manifest, preserved in the archives of the Shanghai Municipal Library, lists the cargo under the heading “Miscellaneous Oriental Curiosities – Box 27.” The entry reads:

“Box 27: 12 ivory figurines, 3 silk scrolls (inked, unrolled), 1 brass device (engraved, sealed). Destination: British Consul‑General, Shanghai.”

The name of the British Consul‑General—Sir Edmund P. Hargrave—was added in a later inked notation, indicating a diplomatic handoff.