For the lover of Wisdom there is no separation between public and private, there is only suffering or compassion. Any barrier we attempt to build to justify actions in private that we would consider unacceptable in public is merely a glass wall, a fictional barricade of rationalization. There is no purely private moment - there is no action or thought that exists in the vacuum of non-being, in some transcendental space separate from this world; there is no environment that in some way does not touch on the surrounding greater world.
In the Analects we see Confucius suggest that following the Odes is the proper Way, the Way that brings Harmony (He 和). We could mistakenly think that Confucius simply advocates conformity to ritual, to blind obedience - but this is far from true, and even a cursory reading of the text shows us that Confucius does not follow ritual for its own sake. Confucius goes so far as to say that we follow ritual because it creates harmony. Confucius critiques blind adherence to ritual as pedantic dogmatism, and alters ritual where needed.
On the other hand Confucius does not advocate changing ritual for its own sake. It may be possible to alter some rituals and still remain in the bounds of Rightness (Yi 義); but some alterations transgress the sage's sense of Rightness (Yi 義). For example, Confucius suggests that it is quite permissible to wear a less expensive ceremonial cap, as the point of the cap/hat is to show deference instead of opulence. However, Confucius argues it would be impossible to change rules of etiquette - such as bowing to the Emperor upon entering the room - and still maintain the sense of Propriety (Li 裡).
Similarly the Eight Fold Path of Buddhism reminds us to nurture "Right Thoughts." This is not a call to make thoughts conform to an external screed or script - rather this is a call to treat all our thoughts with mindfulness and care, so we do not nurture suffering in our own minds. Compassion begins with mindful recognition of Suffering. Compassion begins with our own mindful awareness of our own thoughts and feelings, of how we think about ourselves, of those around us, and the lives we live.
In this respect, again I say there is no distinction between public and private. Wherever we find ourselves we find ourselves with our thoughts and our potential actions. Even if unseen by others, we can still ask if our thoughts and actions nurture compassion or if our thoughts and actions perpetuate and increase suffering. This does not mean we should judge ourselves for being imperfect, for our own actions also require compassion, but we should be mindful of how out thoughts direct our attitude towards the world. Hopefully we see the rest of the world is always at hand, brushing against us as we rush through just as we are brushing against it.
As we rush through our lives, let us move with kindness towards those around us, and by extension, the kindness of all.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Translation - Zhuangzi - 人間世 - Words are like Wind and Waves
夫言者，風波也；行者，實喪也。風波易以動，實喪易以危。故忿設無由，巧言偏辭。獸死不擇音，氣息茀然，於是並生心厲。剋核大至，則必有不肖之心應之，而不知其然也。苟為不知其然也，孰知其所終！故法言曰：『無遷令，無勸成。』過度，益也。遷令、勸成殆事，美成在久，惡成不及改，可不慎與！且夫乘物以遊心，託不得已以養中，至矣。何作為報也！莫若為致命。此其難者。」
Fū yán zhě, fēng bō yě; xíng zhě, shí sàng yě. Fēng bō yì yǐ dòng, shí sàng yì yǐ wēi. Gù fèn shè wú yóu, qiǎo yán piān cí. Shòu sǐ bù zé yīn, qì xī fú rán, yú shì bìng shēng xīn lì. Kè hé dà zhì, Zé bì yǒu bù xiào xiào zhī xīn yīng zhī, ér bù zhī qí rán yě. Gǒu wéi bù zhī qí rán yě, shú zhī qī suǒ zhōng! Gù fǎ yán yuē: “Wú qiān lìng, wú quán chèng.” Guò dù, yì yě. Qiān lìng, quán chèng dài shì, měi chéng zài jiǔ, è chéng bù jí gǎi, kě bù shèn yǔ! Qiě fù chéng wù yǐ yóu xīn, tuō bù dé yǐ yǐ yàng zhōng, zhì yǐ. Hé zuò wéi bào yě! Mò ruò wéi zhì mìng. Cǐ qí nán zhě.
Rough Translation
One who speaks, wind and waves; one who walks/carries out actions, wealth/gain and loss; Wind and waves easily taking movement; gain and loss easily taking dangerous/precarious. [In the beginning] anger builds without cause; ingenious/clever words incline/slant speech; dying animals do not pick out tones/pronunciation, spirit stops [and] “like a path overgrown with grass,” in (this same manner) (side-by-side) are born stern/harsh hearts. Subdue the seed/core until big, therefore surely have a heart unlike the one you must have, and you do not know how (it follows). And because not knowing it how it happens, who knows where it will end!
Polished Translation
In the beginning the Rules of Speech say: "Do not move/shift orders/decrees, do not urge completion." Go by (standard measures/natural system), and benefit; Migrating decrees, advising completion, dangerous affairs, beautiful completion [is at/takes] long time, hateful (dysfunctional) completion does not attain correct, it can be not acting with care! Moreover adjust to things/take advantage of things by a wandering heart, trusting do not grasp at ends, by means of nurturing the center (of things), arrive! What thing works for the sake of reporting/following orders? Nothing is like (doing things) for the sake of delivering orders (obeying fate). Here this is the difficult (thing to do).
Discussion
Attempting a direct translation leaves us with: "Subdue the core, until big." We can assume an understood topic, which might leave us with something like: "Subduing the core (of the matter)until anger becomes big, then you certainly have an unsuitable heart." 核 (hé) means "seed" and it can be either literal or figurative. It can be the seed of a fruit or the core of some kind of principled action, such as governing. In either case the image of "something growing and coming to fruition" is the central concept that allows the term to be used figuratively. Pre-Han literature emphasizes the importance of not forcing affairs, instead allowing things to happen in a "natural" manner. The debate in these texts is often about how to best nurture conditions favorable to the natural completion of affairs, or a seemingly effortless consummation of circumstances into the desired conclusion.
莫若為致命
Starting with a more literal translation we have "There is nothing (as difficult) as acting for the sake of delivering orders." I highlight the importance of this passage because of the importance of 致 (zhì) and 命 (mìng) as concepts. 命 in particular adds an entire second layer to the passage. The primary layer of meaning in the passage focuses on the difficulty of following orders and ensuring that effective communication occurs between government officials and opposing factions. 命 can mean the literal orders you have received from your commanding officer, which fits well with this layer of meaning. However, 命 can also mean the natural constraints of existence imposed by life, the constraints of the human condition. This second meaning derives from the idea of the orders of 天 We each have to accept the natural constraints imposed on us by the conditions of living. It is this second thing, learning to act within the bounds of our own moral limits, that is most difficult!
Fū yán zhě, fēng bō yě; xíng zhě, shí sàng yě. Fēng bō yì yǐ dòng, shí sàng yì yǐ wēi. Gù fèn shè wú yóu, qiǎo yán piān cí. Shòu sǐ bù zé yīn, qì xī fú rán, yú shì bìng shēng xīn lì. Kè hé dà zhì, Zé bì yǒu bù xiào xiào zhī xīn yīng zhī, ér bù zhī qí rán yě. Gǒu wéi bù zhī qí rán yě, shú zhī qī suǒ zhōng! Gù fǎ yán yuē: “Wú qiān lìng, wú quán chèng.” Guò dù, yì yě. Qiān lìng, quán chèng dài shì, měi chéng zài jiǔ, è chéng bù jí gǎi, kě bù shèn yǔ! Qiě fù chéng wù yǐ yóu xīn, tuō bù dé yǐ yǐ yàng zhōng, zhì yǐ. Hé zuò wéi bào yě! Mò ruò wéi zhì mìng. Cǐ qí nán zhě.
Rough Translation
One who speaks, wind and waves; one who walks/carries out actions, wealth/gain and loss; Wind and waves easily taking movement; gain and loss easily taking dangerous/precarious. [In the beginning] anger builds without cause; ingenious/clever words incline/slant speech; dying animals do not pick out tones/pronunciation, spirit stops [and] “like a path overgrown with grass,” in (this same manner) (side-by-side) are born stern/harsh hearts. Subdue the seed/core until big, therefore surely have a heart unlike the one you must have, and you do not know how (it follows). And because not knowing it how it happens, who knows where it will end!
Polished Translation
In the beginning the Rules of Speech say: "Do not move/shift orders/decrees, do not urge completion." Go by (standard measures/natural system), and benefit; Migrating decrees, advising completion, dangerous affairs, beautiful completion [is at/takes] long time, hateful (dysfunctional) completion does not attain correct, it can be not acting with care! Moreover adjust to things/take advantage of things by a wandering heart, trusting do not grasp at ends, by means of nurturing the center (of things), arrive! What thing works for the sake of reporting/following orders? Nothing is like (doing things) for the sake of delivering orders (obeying fate). Here this is the difficult (thing to do).
Discussion
Attempting a direct translation leaves us with: "Subdue the core, until big." We can assume an understood topic, which might leave us with something like: "Subduing the core (of the matter)until anger becomes big, then you certainly have an unsuitable heart." 核 (hé) means "seed" and it can be either literal or figurative. It can be the seed of a fruit or the core of some kind of principled action, such as governing. In either case the image of "something growing and coming to fruition" is the central concept that allows the term to be used figuratively. Pre-Han literature emphasizes the importance of not forcing affairs, instead allowing things to happen in a "natural" manner. The debate in these texts is often about how to best nurture conditions favorable to the natural completion of affairs, or a seemingly effortless consummation of circumstances into the desired conclusion.
莫若為致命
Starting with a more literal translation we have "There is nothing (as difficult) as acting for the sake of delivering orders." I highlight the importance of this passage because of the importance of 致 (zhì) and 命 (mìng) as concepts. 命 in particular adds an entire second layer to the passage. The primary layer of meaning in the passage focuses on the difficulty of following orders and ensuring that effective communication occurs between government officials and opposing factions. 命 can mean the literal orders you have received from your commanding officer, which fits well with this layer of meaning. However, 命 can also mean the natural constraints of existence imposed by life, the constraints of the human condition. This second meaning derives from the idea of the orders of 天 We each have to accept the natural constraints imposed on us by the conditions of living. It is this second thing, learning to act within the bounds of our own moral limits, that is most difficult!
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Philosophy - Martyrdom, Texts, and Anonynimity in Moral Philosophy as Political Resistance
Comparisons between philosophical claims and historic political situations are often shunned by standard readings of philosophical texts. We tend to look at philosophy in a vacuum, as if the history of philosophy occurred in a vacuum. Instead of viewing the relationship in unidirectional manner (either thought dictating societal organization or societal structures determining thought), I prefer to think of these in a bidirectional manner –thought and cultural/political conditions are constantly influencing each other – like a bidirectional reaction or an equilibrium.
Consider this comparison between, on the one hand, issues surrounding Socrates death, including his relationship with Alcibiades and the history of Athens, and on the other hand, the ambiguous identity of Laozi, the philosophical claims of the Dao De Jing, the chaos of the Classical Chinese Era. I hope to bring out several themes, in particular the role of philosophy in public discourse, challenging power structures through philosophical analysis, and the real threat from challenging power dynamics with philosophical debate.
Let’s begin with David Johnson's work on Socrates and Alcibiades. Johnson looks at the relationship between Socrates and his on-again-off-again mentorship with Alcibiades, privileged son of Athens. We often interpret the trial of Socrates and his execution by hemlock as a purely philosophical affair, and in our hagiography we praise the incorrigible Gadfly for his steadfast commitment to the pursuit of Wisdom. Johnson tells the story of Alcibiades' disastrous military endeavors in the Peloponnesian War and the consequences this may have had for Socrates' own life. Alcibiades was blamed (not unjustly) for the complete disaster that was the Sicilian Expedition (it was his idea, allegedly). The episode marked a major turning point in the war which ended with Athens’ defeat and subsequent rule under the Thirty Tyrants.
Following Athens’ successful rebellion against the Spartan proxy government the puppet government was ousted and clemency was granted to all Athenians involved (except the thirty tyrants themselves). But the city’s old democracy was never fully restored – instead we saw the consolidation of power under a newer oligarchy. Johnson argues this may have been part of the reason Socrates was tried for impiety and corruption of the youth as opposed to a more direct charge such as being a traitor. Alcibiades had already been exiled (twice, I believe) and was eventually assassinated in Phrygia. Socrates spent his time publicly critiquing the members of the new government, old war heroes who had seized power. But he did so under the guise of seeking Wisdom – if we are to believe Plato. We should be able to see here that Socrates’ mission may have been more than simply seeking wisdom – he may have actually been publicly challenging members of the new government by trapping them in contradiction and confusion.
So I wonder: to what extent were Plato’s writings an attempt to publicly rewrite the history between Socrates and Alcibiades? Or at least present a narrative where Alcibiades is morally and pedagogically distanced from Socrates: in the Symposium we are shown that Alcibiades neither fully understands Socrates’ position on the Good nor does Socrates support Alcibiades’ erratic dalliances in the realms of flesh and emotion. The message here (in this interpretation) is this: “Of course Socrates knew Alcibiades – everyone knew him! – And yes, they may have engaged in philosophical debate – but surely you can see here that Alcibiades did not understand Socrates’ position on wisdom and The Good, and that Socrates was only interested in trying to educate a young man with great potential. Certainly we can agree that Socrates should not be held responsible for Alcibiades’ flaws and certainly you can see Socrates should not have been executed for questioning the wisdom of the new Athenian order.”
Given the propensity that political leaders have for silencing their dissidents through political trials and purges, does this warrant asking whether or not Laozi ever really existed? While the hegemony of the Qin had not yet arrived, does the ambiguity of Laozi’s identity provide some shielding to his followers? You cannot kill the leader of a movement if that leader doesn’t really exist. You can kill his followers, but it is impossible to silence a leader who cannot be killed (or at least it’s really difficult – hence politically motivated censorship and book burnings).
While not convincing by itself, this line of thought agrees with another hypothesis I like to field about Laozi – that the clear lack of any personal characteristics or discussion of Laozi in the collected sayings of Laozi is both consistent and coherent with the philosophical reasoning of the Dao De Jing. The text proposes that the Confucian emphasis on virtue is problematic, because any attempt to publicly establish one’s virtue simultaneously undermines one’s own attempts to actually be virtuous. Less strongly worded, attempting to lead through imposing ritual and overt displays of virtue leads fails to meet the actual needs of the situation: the people are starving, the lands are overrun with war, and nobody can live in a time of violence.
While I’m not fully convinced – there are some holes here – I certainly think it’s worth exploring the possible philosophical and political reasons we have such difficulty in pinning authorship on the Dao De Jing. The use of anonymity was useful far before the rise of the information and the advent of activism; while a majority position in the classical Chinese world could be seen cultivating safety through establishing one’s name, virtue and group affiliation, the Daoists recognized that the safest position may be having no name at all.
Consider this comparison between, on the one hand, issues surrounding Socrates death, including his relationship with Alcibiades and the history of Athens, and on the other hand, the ambiguous identity of Laozi, the philosophical claims of the Dao De Jing, the chaos of the Classical Chinese Era. I hope to bring out several themes, in particular the role of philosophy in public discourse, challenging power structures through philosophical analysis, and the real threat from challenging power dynamics with philosophical debate.
Let’s begin with David Johnson's work on Socrates and Alcibiades. Johnson looks at the relationship between Socrates and his on-again-off-again mentorship with Alcibiades, privileged son of Athens. We often interpret the trial of Socrates and his execution by hemlock as a purely philosophical affair, and in our hagiography we praise the incorrigible Gadfly for his steadfast commitment to the pursuit of Wisdom. Johnson tells the story of Alcibiades' disastrous military endeavors in the Peloponnesian War and the consequences this may have had for Socrates' own life. Alcibiades was blamed (not unjustly) for the complete disaster that was the Sicilian Expedition (it was his idea, allegedly). The episode marked a major turning point in the war which ended with Athens’ defeat and subsequent rule under the Thirty Tyrants.
Following Athens’ successful rebellion against the Spartan proxy government the puppet government was ousted and clemency was granted to all Athenians involved (except the thirty tyrants themselves). But the city’s old democracy was never fully restored – instead we saw the consolidation of power under a newer oligarchy. Johnson argues this may have been part of the reason Socrates was tried for impiety and corruption of the youth as opposed to a more direct charge such as being a traitor. Alcibiades had already been exiled (twice, I believe) and was eventually assassinated in Phrygia. Socrates spent his time publicly critiquing the members of the new government, old war heroes who had seized power. But he did so under the guise of seeking Wisdom – if we are to believe Plato. We should be able to see here that Socrates’ mission may have been more than simply seeking wisdom – he may have actually been publicly challenging members of the new government by trapping them in contradiction and confusion.
So I wonder: to what extent were Plato’s writings an attempt to publicly rewrite the history between Socrates and Alcibiades? Or at least present a narrative where Alcibiades is morally and pedagogically distanced from Socrates: in the Symposium we are shown that Alcibiades neither fully understands Socrates’ position on the Good nor does Socrates support Alcibiades’ erratic dalliances in the realms of flesh and emotion. The message here (in this interpretation) is this: “Of course Socrates knew Alcibiades – everyone knew him! – And yes, they may have engaged in philosophical debate – but surely you can see here that Alcibiades did not understand Socrates’ position on wisdom and The Good, and that Socrates was only interested in trying to educate a young man with great potential. Certainly we can agree that Socrates should not be held responsible for Alcibiades’ flaws and certainly you can see Socrates should not have been executed for questioning the wisdom of the new Athenian order.”
Given the propensity that political leaders have for silencing their dissidents through political trials and purges, does this warrant asking whether or not Laozi ever really existed? While the hegemony of the Qin had not yet arrived, does the ambiguity of Laozi’s identity provide some shielding to his followers? You cannot kill the leader of a movement if that leader doesn’t really exist. You can kill his followers, but it is impossible to silence a leader who cannot be killed (or at least it’s really difficult – hence politically motivated censorship and book burnings).
While not convincing by itself, this line of thought agrees with another hypothesis I like to field about Laozi – that the clear lack of any personal characteristics or discussion of Laozi in the collected sayings of Laozi is both consistent and coherent with the philosophical reasoning of the Dao De Jing. The text proposes that the Confucian emphasis on virtue is problematic, because any attempt to publicly establish one’s virtue simultaneously undermines one’s own attempts to actually be virtuous. Less strongly worded, attempting to lead through imposing ritual and overt displays of virtue leads fails to meet the actual needs of the situation: the people are starving, the lands are overrun with war, and nobody can live in a time of violence.
While I’m not fully convinced – there are some holes here – I certainly think it’s worth exploring the possible philosophical and political reasons we have such difficulty in pinning authorship on the Dao De Jing. The use of anonymity was useful far before the rise of the information and the advent of activism; while a majority position in the classical Chinese world could be seen cultivating safety through establishing one’s name, virtue and group affiliation, the Daoists recognized that the safest position may be having no name at all.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 2.1
子曰：「為政以德，譬如北辰，居其所而眾星共之。」
Zǐ yuē: “Wéi zhèng yǐ dé, pì rú běi chèn, zhū qí suǒ ér zhòng xīng gǒng zhī.”
The Master Says: “Using virtue for governing (is) metaphorically like (being) (the) North Star, resting/stopping itself so (the) multitude (of) stars revolve around it.”
This is one of my favorite passages in the Analects: the image is captivating and inspiring while the conceptual content is complex and a bit paradoxical. Untangling the image leads to a very optimistic view of human nature and the capacity to inspire others with exemplary/virtuous behavior.
The key to this passage is remembering that virtue (dé 德) is complex: it refers to the power/ability to direct or navigate circumstances, especially in conjunction with daò 道. Remember that daò 道 is not always perfectly clear, but the forces created by changing conditions do manifest in the environment and do create hazards to personal and social health.
In terms of the Confucian Sage dé 德 is the capacity to create harmony within society by creative or exemplary uses of knowledge, culture, or ritual.
The beauty of dé 德 is that exemplary practice can be truly inspirational, like a violin player or professional athlete inspiring awe and respect. We may not be able to directly emulate these exemplary individuals but they inspire us to excellence in our own pursuits. Exemplary practice of dé 德 actually raises the community standards for dé 德.
Zǐ yuē: “Wéi zhèng yǐ dé, pì rú běi chèn, zhū qí suǒ ér zhòng xīng gǒng zhī.”
The Master Says: “Using virtue for governing (is) metaphorically like (being) (the) North Star, resting/stopping itself so (the) multitude (of) stars revolve around it.”
This is one of my favorite passages in the Analects: the image is captivating and inspiring while the conceptual content is complex and a bit paradoxical. Untangling the image leads to a very optimistic view of human nature and the capacity to inspire others with exemplary/virtuous behavior.
The key to this passage is remembering that virtue (dé 德) is complex: it refers to the power/ability to direct or navigate circumstances, especially in conjunction with daò 道. Remember that daò 道 is not always perfectly clear, but the forces created by changing conditions do manifest in the environment and do create hazards to personal and social health.
In terms of the Confucian Sage dé 德 is the capacity to create harmony within society by creative or exemplary uses of knowledge, culture, or ritual.
The beauty of dé 德 is that exemplary practice can be truly inspirational, like a violin player or professional athlete inspiring awe and respect. We may not be able to directly emulate these exemplary individuals but they inspire us to excellence in our own pursuits. Exemplary practice of dé 德 actually raises the community standards for dé 德.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.16
子曰：「不患人之不己知，患不知人也。」
Translation Process:
The Master said: "Do not worry (if) people do not know one's self; worry (about) not knowing people."
Polished Version:
Philosophical Notes:
This is a great example of the Confucian concern with fame versus respect. Confucius' point throughout the Analects is that effective governance is different from simply gaining fame or status. One's status as nobility is no guarantee of skillful governing. Confucius argues throughout that knowledge, study, and respect are foundations of successful social mediation. The reason these values are important are twofold: not only are knowledge and skill useful in running a government, but they also establish a positive reputation for the Sage. The Sage will ultimately be tested in his ability to uphold this reputation, and so the Sage must be ready.
Confucius recognizes the danger of seeking fame for its own sake, and warns against that here in this passage. The latter half is slightly more ambiguous - does he mean literally not knowing people? Does he mean lacking a knowledge of humanity or human nature in general? Or does he mean not recognizing people who have established themselves through merit? In all honesty it may be some combination of all three. A good Confucian sage functions by knowing the needs and desires of others so he can coordinate social structures to meet the needs of the many. In this manner the Sage works to avoid disrespecting or neglecting any member of the community. This kind of work requires attention to personal development and disposition, to the skills and personalities of the people under the Sage's care.
Translation Notes:
As we can see here, this entire passage is a great example of antimetabole (juxtaposing two phrases with similar wording but opposite meaning). In this case the literal shifting of the word order reflects the shifting perspective in moral order between the first passage and the second. We see antimetabole frequently in Chinese thought (ex: “He who speaks does not know, he who knows does not speak.” I suspect this happens because much of the cannon is concerned with drawing contrasts between different types of behavior. The compact nature of Classical Chinese also makes it easier to place words in close contrast.
I put a “polishd version” in here to demonstrate how much shifting around is actually possible in translation.
On a final note - this is the final passage from Chapter 1! I plan to keep working on this, but we may also do selections from the Dao De Jing along the way. The two are wonderful in juxtaposition to each other, and the contrast brings out some great similarities between the two works and systems of thought (if systems they ever were, yet systems we make them be).
Zǐ yuē: “Bù huàn
rén zhī bù jǐ zhī, huàn bù zhī rén yě.”
Translation Process:
The Master said: "Do not worry (if) people do not know one's self; worry (about) not knowing people."
Polished Version:
The Master said: “I do not worry I
do not worry that people do not know myself. I worry that I do not know the people."
Philosophical Notes:
This is a great example of the Confucian concern with fame versus respect. Confucius' point throughout the Analects is that effective governance is different from simply gaining fame or status. One's status as nobility is no guarantee of skillful governing. Confucius argues throughout that knowledge, study, and respect are foundations of successful social mediation. The reason these values are important are twofold: not only are knowledge and skill useful in running a government, but they also establish a positive reputation for the Sage. The Sage will ultimately be tested in his ability to uphold this reputation, and so the Sage must be ready.
Confucius recognizes the danger of seeking fame for its own sake, and warns against that here in this passage. The latter half is slightly more ambiguous - does he mean literally not knowing people? Does he mean lacking a knowledge of humanity or human nature in general? Or does he mean not recognizing people who have established themselves through merit? In all honesty it may be some combination of all three. A good Confucian sage functions by knowing the needs and desires of others so he can coordinate social structures to meet the needs of the many. In this manner the Sage works to avoid disrespecting or neglecting any member of the community. This kind of work requires attention to personal development and disposition, to the skills and personalities of the people under the Sage's care.
Translation Notes:
This is a fun
passage because we can demonstrate several steps between the original Chinese
and a finished translation. First I provide a pinyin Romanization. While not
necessary I find it useful when dealing with unfamiliar characters. Making a pinyin
translation from sight is also good practice for reviewing characters and
tones. The next step is making a rough or blocked out translation. I do this so
I can experiment with syntax and emphasis. Reading Confucius is like reading poetry, where the structure
provides clues about how to understand the passage.
As we can see here, this entire passage is a great example of antimetabole (juxtaposing two phrases with similar wording but opposite meaning). In this case the literal shifting of the word order reflects the shifting perspective in moral order between the first passage and the second. We see antimetabole frequently in Chinese thought (ex: “He who speaks does not know, he who knows does not speak.” I suspect this happens because much of the cannon is concerned with drawing contrasts between different types of behavior. The compact nature of Classical Chinese also makes it easier to place words in close contrast.
I put a “polishd version” in here to demonstrate how much shifting around is actually possible in translation.
On a final note - this is the final passage from Chapter 1! I plan to keep working on this, but we may also do selections from the Dao De Jing along the way. The two are wonderful in juxtaposition to each other, and the contrast brings out some great similarities between the two works and systems of thought (if systems they ever were, yet systems we make them be).
Monday, July 21, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.15
1.15 學而: 子貢曰：「貧而無諂，富而無驕，何如？」子曰：「可也。未若貧而樂，富而好禮者也。」子貢曰：「《詩》云：『如切如磋，如琢如磨。』其斯之謂與？」子曰：「賜也，始可與言詩已矣！告諸往而知來者。」
Aphorism versus Example
The line between aphorism and example is blurry and we may see both in this passage. Aphorisms invoke an image as the proper moral stance in reponse to a situation. Examples may actual or hypothetical, and may serve the same purpose as invoking an aphorism – to provide an example of proper behavior. In this passage I like to imagine Confucius and Zi Gong discussing sayings regarding proper conduct. In this reading Zi Gong’s initial formulation is less effective than Confucius’ reply. Legge translates this passage as if Confucius and Zi Gong were discussiong groups of people. Ames and Rosemont translate this passage as if Confucius and Zi Gong are discussions aphorisms about proper conduct. I follow Ames and Rosemont in this issue. As an aspiring Shi (Scholar/Official), Zi Gong would be practicing the right way to formulate ritual sayings. He would also be practicing his ability to cite the Odes in support of his position. I follow LaFargue’s suggestion that much of the debate in early Chinese discourse was performed by formulating and contrasting aphorisms in an attempt to stake out the most defensible position in reference to common understanding and historic precedent.
如切如磋，如琢如磨 (Rú qiē rú cuō, rú zhuó rú mó)
This translation and the original passage can both be found at http://ctext.org/book-of-poetry/odes-of-wei#n14458. The passage referenced by Zi Gong is translated here as: “As from the knife and the file, as from the chisel and the polisher!” This itself is an approximation, as a more direct translation reads:
The Odes use the images of honing the knife and polishing the jade to represent the prince’s level of accomplishment and breeding. Confucius and Zi Gong consciously appropriate the ideas of cultivation and refinement, which previously were reserved for the nobility. Confucius and Zi Gong generalize the images of the knife and the jade so they can apply to anyone in any social standing. This strikes at the heart of Confucius’ cultural and historic significance, where he and his disciples appropriate concepts held by the nobility and successfully apply them to all members of society. Notice this passage includes virtuous stances for both the poor and the wealthy. So when Zi Gong is attempting to formulate a passage, it is more than simply trying to articulate a position, he is attempting to recast the concepts previously applied only to the nobility in such a way that are normative for any member of society.
The metaphors of the knife and the jade also reveal insights about Confucius' attitudes towards self-cultivation and education. Polishing the knife requires careful attention to detail and results in a fine finished product. Likewise, producing fine jade requires careful attention to cutting the jade and then time spent polishing the work. These tasks share important elements with education: self-motivation, respect for the task at hand, and a certain degree of skill. These requirements correspond to values prized by Confucius and serve as the basis for the Sage's moral cultivation. Education, filial respect, and rightness cultivate the Sage’s virtue or excellence, which in turn allows the sage cultivate harmony in society. Like a polished knife or polished piece of cut jade, the Sage must daily hone skills and knowledge for the sake of being a moral exemplar.
Confucius is ambiguous regarding the nature/nuture debate that we see between Xunzi and Mencius. Confucius says little about human nature except to comment that even he cannot teach someone who’s caracter is that of rotten wood – meaning prospective students must at least be capable of learning. As other writers have noticed the Analects contain metaphors for adornment/coloration as well as shaping, and both of these represent the Confucian project of cultivation and education.
1.15: Zǐ Gòng yuē: ‘Pín
ér wú chǎn, fù ér wú jiāo,’ hé rú?” Zǐ yuē: “Kě yě. Wèi ruò ‘Pín ér lè, fù ér
hào lǐ zhě yě.’” Zǐ Gòng yuè: Shī yún: ‘Rú qiē rú cuō, rú zhuó rú mó.’ Qí sī
zhī wèi yú?” Zǐ yuē: Cì yě shǐ kě yǔ yán
shī yǐ yǐ! Gào zhū wǎng ér, zhī lái zhě.”
1.15: Zi Gong
said: “’Poor but not obsequious, wealthy but not arrogant.’ How is this?” The
Master said: "Passable, but not the same as: 'Poor but enjoying Dao, wealthy but
loving Propriety.'" Zi Gong said: “The Odes state: ‘Like a sharpened knife, like
polished jade.’ Is this the meaning of that?” The Master said: “Like so! I can begin
and then discuss the Odes! I tell what has passed and (you) know what comes
next!”
Aphorism versus Example
The line between aphorism and example is blurry and we may see both in this passage. Aphorisms invoke an image as the proper moral stance in reponse to a situation. Examples may actual or hypothetical, and may serve the same purpose as invoking an aphorism – to provide an example of proper behavior. In this passage I like to imagine Confucius and Zi Gong discussing sayings regarding proper conduct. In this reading Zi Gong’s initial formulation is less effective than Confucius’ reply. Legge translates this passage as if Confucius and Zi Gong were discussiong groups of people. Ames and Rosemont translate this passage as if Confucius and Zi Gong are discussions aphorisms about proper conduct. I follow Ames and Rosemont in this issue. As an aspiring Shi (Scholar/Official), Zi Gong would be practicing the right way to formulate ritual sayings. He would also be practicing his ability to cite the Odes in support of his position. I follow LaFargue’s suggestion that much of the debate in early Chinese discourse was performed by formulating and contrasting aphorisms in an attempt to stake out the most defensible position in reference to common understanding and historic precedent.
如切如磋，如琢如磨 (Rú qiē rú cuō, rú zhuó rú mó)
Look at those recesses
in the banks of the Qi,
With their green bamboos, so fresh and luxuriant!
There is our elegant and accomplished prince, -
As from the knife and the file,
As from the chisel and the polisher!
How grave is he and dignified!
How commanding and distinguished!
Our elegant and accomplished prince, -
Never can he be forgotten!
With their green bamboos, so fresh and luxuriant!
There is our elegant and accomplished prince, -
As from the knife and the file,
As from the chisel and the polisher!
How grave is he and dignified!
How commanding and distinguished!
Our elegant and accomplished prince, -
Never can he be forgotten!
This translation and the original passage can both be found at http://ctext.org/book-of-poetry/odes-of-wei#n14458. The passage referenced by Zi Gong is translated here as: “As from the knife and the file, as from the chisel and the polisher!” This itself is an approximation, as a more direct translation reads:
Like the knife like the polish,
Like the cut jade like the grindstone.
The Odes use the images of honing the knife and polishing the jade to represent the prince’s level of accomplishment and breeding. Confucius and Zi Gong consciously appropriate the ideas of cultivation and refinement, which previously were reserved for the nobility. Confucius and Zi Gong generalize the images of the knife and the jade so they can apply to anyone in any social standing. This strikes at the heart of Confucius’ cultural and historic significance, where he and his disciples appropriate concepts held by the nobility and successfully apply them to all members of society. Notice this passage includes virtuous stances for both the poor and the wealthy. So when Zi Gong is attempting to formulate a passage, it is more than simply trying to articulate a position, he is attempting to recast the concepts previously applied only to the nobility in such a way that are normative for any member of society.
The metaphors of the knife and the jade also reveal insights about Confucius' attitudes towards self-cultivation and education. Polishing the knife requires careful attention to detail and results in a fine finished product. Likewise, producing fine jade requires careful attention to cutting the jade and then time spent polishing the work. These tasks share important elements with education: self-motivation, respect for the task at hand, and a certain degree of skill. These requirements correspond to values prized by Confucius and serve as the basis for the Sage's moral cultivation. Education, filial respect, and rightness cultivate the Sage’s virtue or excellence, which in turn allows the sage cultivate harmony in society. Like a polished knife or polished piece of cut jade, the Sage must daily hone skills and knowledge for the sake of being a moral exemplar.
Confucius is ambiguous regarding the nature/nuture debate that we see between Xunzi and Mencius. Confucius says little about human nature except to comment that even he cannot teach someone who’s caracter is that of rotten wood – meaning prospective students must at least be capable of learning. As other writers have noticed the Analects contain metaphors for adornment/coloration as well as shaping, and both of these represent the Confucian project of cultivation and education.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.14 - Revision
1.14: 子曰：「君子食無求飽，居無求安，敏於事而慎於言，就有道而正焉，可謂好學也已。」
1.14: Zǐ yuē: Jūnzǐ shí wú qiú bǎo, jū wú qiú ān, mǐn yú shì ér shèn yú yán, jiú yǒu dào, ér zhèng yān, kě wèi hào xué yě yǐ.
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage meal(dining) does not seek full(ness)/fill, dwelling/still does not seek peace, clever in office/duty and/but cautious in speech, follow (those) with Dao and right/straighten yourself, can call good studying this!"
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage in dining does not seek fullness, in dwelling does not seek peace (complacency); is clever (skillful) in office but cautious in speech; follow (those) with Dao and right yourself, and you can call this good learning!"
Thanks to Doug Berger for helping correct my translation here! I tripped over 就 (jiú), which should be translated as a verb. That gives us "Follow (those who) have Dao, and (do) right things." We could smooth that over by saying: "Follow those with Dao and right yourself." Confucius emphasizes the importance of learning from others, and this is no exception. Following the example of those with Dao helps the Sage learn moderation and self-control in his own actions.
The passage is, as Doug explains, largely about seeking (求) the right things (正焉). When dining the sage does not seek fullness, and in resting at home does not seek complacency or laziness. In speech the Sage exercises caution but in serving his duties the sage is intelligent and dutiful. The sage follows those who provide good examples and rights himself.
I do think there is an element of self-control required in this process, which may provide a form of moral psychology. The Sage must be able to distinguish between desire and duty; the Sage must be able to withhold from excesses of desire and focus desire on valuing the correct measure of things. For Confucius the idea of Rightness is the performing one's duties expertly, so one leads others, provides guidance for others, and serves as inspiration for others.
1.14: Zǐ yuē: Jūnzǐ shí wú qiú bǎo, jū wú qiú ān, mǐn yú shì ér shèn yú yán, jiú yǒu dào, ér zhèng yān, kě wèi hào xué yě yǐ.
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage meal(dining) does not seek full(ness)/fill, dwelling/still does not seek peace, clever in office/duty and/but cautious in speech, follow (those) with Dao and right/straighten yourself, can call good studying this!"
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage in dining does not seek fullness, in dwelling does not seek peace (complacency); is clever (skillful) in office but cautious in speech; follow (those) with Dao and right yourself, and you can call this good learning!"
Thanks to Doug Berger for helping correct my translation here! I tripped over 就 (jiú), which should be translated as a verb. That gives us "Follow (those who) have Dao, and (do) right things." We could smooth that over by saying: "Follow those with Dao and right yourself." Confucius emphasizes the importance of learning from others, and this is no exception. Following the example of those with Dao helps the Sage learn moderation and self-control in his own actions.
The passage is, as Doug explains, largely about seeking (求) the right things (正焉). When dining the sage does not seek fullness, and in resting at home does not seek complacency or laziness. In speech the Sage exercises caution but in serving his duties the sage is intelligent and dutiful. The sage follows those who provide good examples and rights himself.
I do think there is an element of self-control required in this process, which may provide a form of moral psychology. The Sage must be able to distinguish between desire and duty; the Sage must be able to withhold from excesses of desire and focus desire on valuing the correct measure of things. For Confucius the idea of Rightness is the performing one's duties expertly, so one leads others, provides guidance for others, and serves as inspiration for others.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.14
1.14: 子曰：「君子食無求飽，居無求安，敏於事而慎於言，就有道而正焉，可謂好學也已。」
1.14: Zǐ yuē: Jūnzǐ shí wú qiú bǎo, jū wú qiú ān, mǐn yú shì ér shèn yú yán, jiú yǒu dào, ér zhèng yān, kě wèi hào xué yě yǐ.
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage meal(dining) does not seek full(ness)/fill, dwelling/still does not seek peace, clever in office/duty and/but cautious in speech, in this manner possess/obtain Dao and right/straighten this/these, can call good studying this!"
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage in dining does not seek fullness, in dwelling does not seek peace (complacency); is clever (skillful) in office but cautious in speech; in this manner obtain Dao and straighten these (things), and you can call this good learning!"
居無求安 (jū wú qiú ān)
The phrase can be translated as “in dwelling does not seek peace,” which is something of a curious piece of advice: why wouldn’t the sage seek peace? 安 (ān) can mean "peace" or "tranquility," both seemingly desirable states of affairs. As a verb it can pacify, console, place, or arrange – again, it seems strange a sage might actively avoid these, especially given the emphasis on ritual in Confucian theory.
Let’s look for clues in the passage, beginning with the first phrase in the passage. 君子食無求飽 (Jūnzǐ shí wú qiú bǎo ) establishes a straightforward dichotomy between the action of the sage and the act of seeking something. This suggests we can apply the same dichotomy to居無求安: the Sage is not actively seeking peace or tranquility. This still leaves us with an unanswered question, however – why would a sage not actively seek this state of affairs?
One reading that resolves this tension actually views the problem not with the object, but with the action – in other words, the greater problem is not with peace and fullness per se, but with the problem of actively seeking these things. The concept of actively seeking something is highily problematic for Laozi and Zhuangzi, both of whom emphasize emptiness or effortless action (depending on your point of view). It may seem surprising to see it here in Confucius, but as we will see Confucius rejects forcefully implementing social change and will advocate for stillness as a kind of virtue. The use of 無 (emptiness/not) further suggests a strong contrast between the action of the sage and the action of actively seeking.
This reading is supported by a another segment of this passage, 就有道而正焉, which I turn to next.
就有道而正焉 (jiú yǒu dào ér zhèng yān)
This segment is a perfect example on why Classical Chinese is complicated: do you hold/possess the Dao? Do you exist in the Dao? Is there one Dao, many Dao, or just Dao? And once you have Dao (or possibly dwell in Dao), what do you govern? You govern well, but what is the object of 焉? All these questions are present in trying to translate this passage.
Let’s pass on philosophical speculation regarding Dao for the moment and simply accept that whatever is going on, Dao (or doing Dao) should be present.
Instead let's focus on the second half of the verb-clause, 而正焉 (ér zhèng yān). The presence of 而 (ér) requires 正 (zhèng) act as some kind of verb, either “striaghten out” or “govern.” 焉 (yān) can be an adverb (“here”), a demonstrative pronoun, or even a rhetorical pronoun (yes, these things exist). As an adverb we might get: “In this manner possess Dao and make upright here.” Not very satisfactory. As a rhetorical pronoun we get: “Just possess Dao and make upright.” Still not great. As a demonstrative pronoun we get: “Just possess Dao and make these upright.” This seems much better, but what do we make of "these?" Where are the pronoun antecedents?
One good option are the actions directed by 求 (qiú), seeking. So the advice is to make ourselves upright or govern ourselves regarding 求 (qiú). This seems to make sense with the rest of the passage. We can “straighten out” or “govern” various habits, such as dining, dwelling, serving, and speaking. As for seeking peace, too much tranquility may interfere with fulfilling the duties of office. Or seeking peace may be unnecessary if we already possess Dao (and things occur naturally). If we can obtain Dao and straighten/govern our tendency to seek things beyond our need, then this may be called good learning!
If this reading is feasible then it helps build the case for a moral psychology in the text: curtailing the desire to seek unnecessary ends leads to better filial piety and ritual propriety. This fits well with the model of moral and psychological development Confucius presents in Analects 2.4. In this passage Confucius ultimately grows to the point where he can follow his desires without fear of transgressing rightness.
1.14: Zǐ yuē: Jūnzǐ shí wú qiú bǎo, jū wú qiú ān, mǐn yú shì ér shèn yú yán, jiú yǒu dào, ér zhèng yān, kě wèi hào xué yě yǐ.
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage meal(dining) does not seek full(ness)/fill, dwelling/still does not seek peace, clever in office/duty and/but cautious in speech, in this manner possess/obtain Dao and right/straighten this/these, can call good studying this!"
1.14: The Master says: "The Sage in dining does not seek fullness, in dwelling does not seek peace (complacency); is clever (skillful) in office but cautious in speech; in this manner obtain Dao and straighten these (things), and you can call this good learning!"
居無求安 (jū wú qiú ān)
The phrase can be translated as “in dwelling does not seek peace,” which is something of a curious piece of advice: why wouldn’t the sage seek peace? 安 (ān) can mean "peace" or "tranquility," both seemingly desirable states of affairs. As a verb it can pacify, console, place, or arrange – again, it seems strange a sage might actively avoid these, especially given the emphasis on ritual in Confucian theory.
Let’s look for clues in the passage, beginning with the first phrase in the passage. 君子食無求飽 (Jūnzǐ shí wú qiú bǎo ) establishes a straightforward dichotomy between the action of the sage and the act of seeking something. This suggests we can apply the same dichotomy to居無求安: the Sage is not actively seeking peace or tranquility. This still leaves us with an unanswered question, however – why would a sage not actively seek this state of affairs?
One reading that resolves this tension actually views the problem not with the object, but with the action – in other words, the greater problem is not with peace and fullness per se, but with the problem of actively seeking these things. The concept of actively seeking something is highily problematic for Laozi and Zhuangzi, both of whom emphasize emptiness or effortless action (depending on your point of view). It may seem surprising to see it here in Confucius, but as we will see Confucius rejects forcefully implementing social change and will advocate for stillness as a kind of virtue. The use of 無 (emptiness/not) further suggests a strong contrast between the action of the sage and the action of actively seeking.
This reading is supported by a another segment of this passage, 就有道而正焉, which I turn to next.
就有道而正焉 (jiú yǒu dào ér zhèng yān)
This segment is a perfect example on why Classical Chinese is complicated: do you hold/possess the Dao? Do you exist in the Dao? Is there one Dao, many Dao, or just Dao? And once you have Dao (or possibly dwell in Dao), what do you govern? You govern well, but what is the object of 焉? All these questions are present in trying to translate this passage.
Let’s pass on philosophical speculation regarding Dao for the moment and simply accept that whatever is going on, Dao (or doing Dao) should be present.
Instead let's focus on the second half of the verb-clause, 而正焉 (ér zhèng yān). The presence of 而 (ér) requires 正 (zhèng) act as some kind of verb, either “striaghten out” or “govern.” 焉 (yān) can be an adverb (“here”), a demonstrative pronoun, or even a rhetorical pronoun (yes, these things exist). As an adverb we might get: “In this manner possess Dao and make upright here.” Not very satisfactory. As a rhetorical pronoun we get: “Just possess Dao and make upright.” Still not great. As a demonstrative pronoun we get: “Just possess Dao and make these upright.” This seems much better, but what do we make of "these?" Where are the pronoun antecedents?
One good option are the actions directed by 求 (qiú), seeking. So the advice is to make ourselves upright or govern ourselves regarding 求 (qiú). This seems to make sense with the rest of the passage. We can “straighten out” or “govern” various habits, such as dining, dwelling, serving, and speaking. As for seeking peace, too much tranquility may interfere with fulfilling the duties of office. Or seeking peace may be unnecessary if we already possess Dao (and things occur naturally). If we can obtain Dao and straighten/govern our tendency to seek things beyond our need, then this may be called good learning!
If this reading is feasible then it helps build the case for a moral psychology in the text: curtailing the desire to seek unnecessary ends leads to better filial piety and ritual propriety. This fits well with the model of moral and psychological development Confucius presents in Analects 2.4. In this passage Confucius ultimately grows to the point where he can follow his desires without fear of transgressing rightness.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Review - Ashes of Time Redux
By virtue of the fact that Argentina vs. Netherlands is later this afternoon I may not have any new translation work on the blog today. So here's something fun: half-movie review and half philosophical reflections from watching Wong Kar-wai's classic, Ashes of Time. The redux was released in 2008 and this original writing was posted to Facebook in 2010.
Enjoy!
------------------------------------------------------------
June 8, 2010:
I just finished watching Wong Kar-wai's "Ashes of Time Redux," the remastered 2008 re-release of the original 1994 wuxia melodrama. I'm conflicted about the film, and I need to try to write out why.
I'm conflicted because the film is truly beautiful. It is perhaps one of the most hauntingly beautiful films I have ever seen. It is less a traditional movie and more a sequence of moving impressions on celluloid. The aesthetic techniques are simple, relying on shadows, light, or framing, but they're used perfectly. Almost every scene has some kind of overtly aesthetic effect: mottled shadows dancing across rustic interiors with a single character lost in reflection; circular ripples in a desert oasis expanding outwards and dissipating across the mirrored sky; endless waves slowly swelling and breaking, an infinite field of blue motion lacking any solid foundation.
I don't know if the film falls in any genre of aesthetic style. The mottling, rippling, dappling, and other techniques used to infuse motion, light and shadow in the film feel distinctly Impressionist. The haunting mixture of emotion and vibrant natural scenery feel Expressionist. And the elements of Wu-Xia mastery, most notably the use of qi to create spectacular explosions in the water, or perhaps the epic struggle between a single lone swordsman and an infinite army of bandits, provide the film with moments of Magical Realism. These all contribute to the distinctly dreamy quality of the film, and after watching it I feel like I've woken up to a reality that is much less interesting than the film I just watched.
Like a dream, it feels incomplete and haunting, with scenes that linger or shift without expectation. The characters divulge themselves almost entirely through minuscule, subtle expressions. There are moments of battle, but even these are captured in blurry swaths of action, like brush strokes rapidly slashed across a canvass.
Perhaps it is this dreamlike, impressionist quality that makes the film so difficult as well. The narrative is so elliptical and fragmented that I didn't really feel like I understood the importance of everything that was happening until maybe three-fourths of the way through the film. Once the pieces came together, it was stunning. Fortunately, I've seen Wong Kar-wai films before, and know they often avoid conventional story structures. This is one of the reasons I enjoy his films (like the films of Almodovar, which are also reliably unconventional). Even for Wong Kar-wai, however, I thought this narrative was particularly difficult. Much like a dream, characters appeared or disappeared often with little reason, or with reasons that materialized after the action, as if hastily constructed by the sleeping brain.
The irony is that, despite how much we tell ourselves to the contrary, isn't this how much of life actually works? We tell ourselves that we are fully aware of our actions at all times, or that we live according to carefully thought out plans. But the reality is that much of our rationality constructed world appears only after the fact, that people enter and leave our lives frequently, and often for reasons that ultimately are never fully clear. Like a dream, we put together the pieces after the fact, trying to make a coherent picture of the multitude of impressions and experiences from our waking lives. In this respect, the difference between dream and waking life is not so different. When we make the distinction based on the conventionally dichotomy of image versus "reality," then the we tell ourselves the difference is clear. But if we look at the issue in terms of desire, experience, and post-hoc rationalization, then the difference between dream and reality becomes wavering and thin.
Perhaps it is this quality that Wong Kar Wai was hoping to capture - the murky shiftings of desire and memory, and the way these filter and color our waking lives, like the mottled shadows rippling across the faces of his emotionally wounded protagonists. The ashes of time settle in our hearts like dust collecting on a mirror. We no longer see the world bright and clear like when we were young, but all becomes mixed and cloudy through our losses and regrets, until we no longer realize we have slipped fully into the dream.
Enjoy!
------------------------------------------------------------
June 8, 2010:
I just finished watching Wong Kar-wai's "Ashes of Time Redux," the remastered 2008 re-release of the original 1994 wuxia melodrama. I'm conflicted about the film, and I need to try to write out why.
I'm conflicted because the film is truly beautiful. It is perhaps one of the most hauntingly beautiful films I have ever seen. It is less a traditional movie and more a sequence of moving impressions on celluloid. The aesthetic techniques are simple, relying on shadows, light, or framing, but they're used perfectly. Almost every scene has some kind of overtly aesthetic effect: mottled shadows dancing across rustic interiors with a single character lost in reflection; circular ripples in a desert oasis expanding outwards and dissipating across the mirrored sky; endless waves slowly swelling and breaking, an infinite field of blue motion lacking any solid foundation.
I don't know if the film falls in any genre of aesthetic style. The mottling, rippling, dappling, and other techniques used to infuse motion, light and shadow in the film feel distinctly Impressionist. The haunting mixture of emotion and vibrant natural scenery feel Expressionist. And the elements of Wu-Xia mastery, most notably the use of qi to create spectacular explosions in the water, or perhaps the epic struggle between a single lone swordsman and an infinite army of bandits, provide the film with moments of Magical Realism. These all contribute to the distinctly dreamy quality of the film, and after watching it I feel like I've woken up to a reality that is much less interesting than the film I just watched.
Like a dream, it feels incomplete and haunting, with scenes that linger or shift without expectation. The characters divulge themselves almost entirely through minuscule, subtle expressions. There are moments of battle, but even these are captured in blurry swaths of action, like brush strokes rapidly slashed across a canvass.
Perhaps it is this dreamlike, impressionist quality that makes the film so difficult as well. The narrative is so elliptical and fragmented that I didn't really feel like I understood the importance of everything that was happening until maybe three-fourths of the way through the film. Once the pieces came together, it was stunning. Fortunately, I've seen Wong Kar-wai films before, and know they often avoid conventional story structures. This is one of the reasons I enjoy his films (like the films of Almodovar, which are also reliably unconventional). Even for Wong Kar-wai, however, I thought this narrative was particularly difficult. Much like a dream, characters appeared or disappeared often with little reason, or with reasons that materialized after the action, as if hastily constructed by the sleeping brain.
The irony is that, despite how much we tell ourselves to the contrary, isn't this how much of life actually works? We tell ourselves that we are fully aware of our actions at all times, or that we live according to carefully thought out plans. But the reality is that much of our rationality constructed world appears only after the fact, that people enter and leave our lives frequently, and often for reasons that ultimately are never fully clear. Like a dream, we put together the pieces after the fact, trying to make a coherent picture of the multitude of impressions and experiences from our waking lives. In this respect, the difference between dream and waking life is not so different. When we make the distinction based on the conventionally dichotomy of image versus "reality," then the we tell ourselves the difference is clear. But if we look at the issue in terms of desire, experience, and post-hoc rationalization, then the difference between dream and reality becomes wavering and thin.
Perhaps it is this quality that Wong Kar Wai was hoping to capture - the murky shiftings of desire and memory, and the way these filter and color our waking lives, like the mottled shadows rippling across the faces of his emotionally wounded protagonists. The ashes of time settle in our hearts like dust collecting on a mirror. We no longer see the world bright and clear like when we were young, but all becomes mixed and cloudy through our losses and regrets, until we no longer realize we have slipped fully into the dream.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.13
1.13: 有子曰：「信近於義，言可復也；恭近於禮，遠恥辱也；因不失其親，亦可宗也。」
義, 信, and 言 (yì, xìn, and yán)
One of the things I find most interesting in this passage is the relationship between 義 (righteousness/rightness), 信 (trust), and 言 (speech/doctrine). For most of the 20th century philosophy took for granted that propositional statements could clearly and accurately convey meaning without concern for time or distance. In direct contrast to this we see classical Chinese philosophy recognize the degradation of meaning that occurs over time and distance and the importance of maintaining clear and trustworthy speech. As we spend more time in ritual activities we build trust with a circle of relations - this sense of trust, gained from experience, allows for communication to be passed back and forth reliably (or at least more reliably than not). This is especially important when considered in the context of a pre-modern society where effectively governing large territories involves effectively communicating over long distances with little ability to confirm whether one's messages are being accurately conveyed.
義 (yì)
The etymology of 義 is particularly insightful (Ames and Rosemont Analects of Confucius 1998): the character is composed of 我 and 羊 and (in their interpretation) represents a person with axe in hand approaching the sacrificial sheep. Proper performance of ritual requires not shrinking from one's duty or responsibility. With Confucius duty and responsibility are not viewed as oppressive intrusions on individual freedom, but rather as the means by which we grow and participate in relationships. These relationships begin with the family and then grow outwards into society. In the context of the politics of the Zhou Dynasty, this kind of 義 involves the Sage dutifully serving a Ruler with skill, wisdom, and virtue. Such dependability both requires and generates trust, and allows language to pass back and forth faithfully and with a sense of reliability.
1.13: “Trust emerges from rightness, so speech can pass back and forth; respect emerges from ritual, so shame remains far away. By not neglecting intimate relations there can be a true respect for the ancestors!”
The political subtext here is interesting because honoring the ancestors involves making the proper forms of ritual respect at the shrines of the ancestors. This includes placing the ritual tablets in the correct order and paying homage to the ritual tablets of the Zhou dynasty. Thus we can interpret the passage in a “superficial” or general sense, where nurturing one’s close relations (family) is a form of behavior supported by the ancestors in general. Nurturing one’s immediate family helps the family survive, and by perpetuating the family line the family brings honor to the ancestors.
1.13: Yǒu Zǐ yuē: Xìn
jìn yú yì, yán kě fù yě; gōng jìn yú lǐ, yuǎn chǐ rǔ yě, yīn bù shī qí qīn, yì
kě zōng yě.
1.13: You Zi says:
Trust/trustworthiness (is) nearby in rightness, speech/doctrine capable (of)
repetition/repeating (affirm!); respectful near/approach in ritual, distant
shame (and) humiliation; because (of) not lose his family/intimate, also can (have)
honor ancestors (affirm!)
1.13: Trust draws near
in rightness (duty), so speech can pass back and forth; respect draws near in ritual,
so shame remains far away. By not neglecting intimate (relations) one honors
the ancestors!
義, 信, and 言 (yì, xìn, and yán)
One of the things I find most interesting in this passage is the relationship between 義 (righteousness/rightness), 信 (trust), and 言 (speech/doctrine). For most of the 20th century philosophy took for granted that propositional statements could clearly and accurately convey meaning without concern for time or distance. In direct contrast to this we see classical Chinese philosophy recognize the degradation of meaning that occurs over time and distance and the importance of maintaining clear and trustworthy speech. As we spend more time in ritual activities we build trust with a circle of relations - this sense of trust, gained from experience, allows for communication to be passed back and forth reliably (or at least more reliably than not). This is especially important when considered in the context of a pre-modern society where effectively governing large territories involves effectively communicating over long distances with little ability to confirm whether one's messages are being accurately conveyed.
義 (yì)
The etymology of 義 is particularly insightful (Ames and Rosemont Analects of Confucius 1998): the character is composed of 我 and 羊 and (in their interpretation) represents a person with axe in hand approaching the sacrificial sheep. Proper performance of ritual requires not shrinking from one's duty or responsibility. With Confucius duty and responsibility are not viewed as oppressive intrusions on individual freedom, but rather as the means by which we grow and participate in relationships. These relationships begin with the family and then grow outwards into society. In the context of the politics of the Zhou Dynasty, this kind of 義 involves the Sage dutifully serving a Ruler with skill, wisdom, and virtue. Such dependability both requires and generates trust, and allows language to pass back and forth faithfully and with a sense of reliability.
於/于 (yú)
It may seem as if yú
handles an uncomfortably large set of prepositional responsibilities: in, at, to,
from, by, than, or out of – these are all possible translations. Despite this
wide variety of terms the core concept is consistent: 於 signifies something contained inside something
else or something happening by virtue of being contained within something else.
Given this, we could reword 1.13 to reflect a more active quality from the
terms following 於:1.13: “Trust emerges from rightness, so speech can pass back and forth; respect emerges from ritual, so shame remains far away. By not neglecting intimate relations there can be a true respect for the ancestors!”
宗 (zōng)
According to
Fuller 宗 means “honor the ancestors.” According to
Zhongwen 宗 means “ancestors”
or “religion.” According to CTP 宗 means “lineage”
or “ancestry.” The key between all these translations is honoring the ancestors
at the ancestral shrines. Out of all the various choices “honoring ancestors”
best captures the fusion of family relations with religious practices.The political subtext here is interesting because honoring the ancestors involves making the proper forms of ritual respect at the shrines of the ancestors. This includes placing the ritual tablets in the correct order and paying homage to the ritual tablets of the Zhou dynasty. Thus we can interpret the passage in a “superficial” or general sense, where nurturing one’s close relations (family) is a form of behavior supported by the ancestors in general. Nurturing one’s immediate family helps the family survive, and by perpetuating the family line the family brings honor to the ancestors.
On another level –
the subtext – we can see (again) how this translates into supporting the
legitimacy of the Zhou dynasty specifically: “by not neglecting one’s intimate
relations one can bring honor to the ancestors (of the proper rulers, the Zhou
dynasty).” One possibility here is Confucius may be advocating the proper
ritual education in ritual education as the ranks of the minor nobility prove
insufficient to fill the growing demands of governance in the Spring and Autumn
Period. This might, presumably, help ensure proper understanding of the ritual
hierarchy of the nobility.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.12
1.12: 有子曰：「禮之用, 和為貴。先王之道斯為美，小大由之。有所不行，知和而和，不以禮節之，亦不可行也。」
1.12: Yǒu Zǐ yuē: “Lǐ zhī yòng hé wé guì, xiān wáng zhī dào sī wéi měi, xiào dǎ yóu zhī. Yǒu suǒ bù xíng, zhī hé ér hé, bǔ yǐ lǐ jié zhī, yì bù kě xíng yě.”
1.12: You Zi (the philosopher) said: "Using/usefulness of ritual, harmony becomes valuable. Way of Frist Kings this/thus became beauty, small and large follow it. Having (this) and not acting, knowing harmony but not (having) harmony, this cannot be walking/doing/capable!”
禮之用, 和為貴
The first half of the phrase, 禮之用 (Lǐ zhī yòng), has a straightforward grammatical structure. The initial interpretation gives us “use of ritual” or “usefulness of ritual.” It probably means something like: “when using ritual…” but we have to infer this from context. The second half is more complicated. 為 is very versatile in classical Chinese and can result in several interpretations. 為 is often parsed as “A for B” and can mean exchanging A for B or A is doing something for the sake of B. Because 為 signifies a relationship between two terms the resultant interpretation can use a wide variety of words to represent that relationship. Tricky stuff.
1.12: Yǒu Zǐ yuē: “Lǐ zhī yòng hé wé guì, xiān wáng zhī dào sī wéi měi, xiào dǎ yóu zhī. Yǒu suǒ bù xíng, zhī hé ér hé, bǔ yǐ lǐ jié zhī, yì bù kě xíng yě.”
1.12: You Zi (the philosopher) said: "Using/usefulness of ritual, harmony becomes valuable. Way of Frist Kings this/thus became beauty, small and large follow it. Having (this) and not acting, knowing harmony but not (having) harmony, this cannot be walking/doing/capable!”
禮之用, 和為貴
The first half of the phrase, 禮之用 (Lǐ zhī yòng), has a straightforward grammatical structure. The initial interpretation gives us “use of ritual” or “usefulness of ritual.” It probably means something like: “when using ritual…” but we have to infer this from context. The second half is more complicated. 為 is very versatile in classical Chinese and can result in several interpretations. 為 is often parsed as “A for B” and can mean exchanging A for B or A is doing something for the sake of B. Because 為 signifies a relationship between two terms the resultant interpretation can use a wide variety of words to represent that relationship. Tricky stuff.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.11
1.11學而: 子曰：「父在，觀其志；父沒，觀其行；三年無改於父之道，可謂孝矣。」
1.11: Zǐ yuē: Fù zài, guān qí zhì;
fù méi, guān qí xíng; sàn nián wú gǎi yú fù zhī dào, kě wèi xiào yǐ.
1.11: Master says: Father here,
observe his will; father not (here), observe his going; three years not/without
change in way of (the) father; (this) able to call filial!
1.11: The Master says: "When your father
is here, observe his will; when he is not, (continue to) observe his business;
going three years without changing the ways of your father, this we can call filial!"
Regarding the use of 父 I see no reason why contemporary translations could
not generalize “father” to “parents.” That would leave us with this
interpretation:
1.11: The Master says: When your parents are here, observe their will; when they are not, (continue to) observe their actions; going three years without changing the ways of your parents, this we can call filial!”
1.11: The Master says: When your parents are here, observe their will; when they are not, (continue to) observe their actions; going three years without changing the ways of your parents, this we can call filial!”
Some depth can be added to this passage by looking
at the different meanings of 行. In modern Chinese 行 means “go, walk, move travel, or circulate.” In
classical Chinese we see a different (but related) meaning: as a verb 行 means “walk,” but as a nount it means “business,
row, or line of business.” So the admontion to observe the ways of the parent
is more than simply continuing a series of habits or customs (as if they were a
matter of simple choice); rather the advice is to continue the parent’s work or
line of work.
We could interpret this as a call to maintain social stability by
maintaining the structure of ritual observances and (thereby) political order
in a region. Or we could interpret this as pragmatic advice for maintaining
stability and continuity in a time of uncertainty. Or (yet again!) we could
interpret this as part of the Confucian project of making different values
accessible to non-nobility: 孝 would certainly be
term that could very easily be elevated into a culturally universal value.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Translation - Analects of Confucius 1.10
1.10: 子禽問於子貢曰：「夫子至於是邦也，必聞其政，求之與？抑與之與？」子貢曰：「夫子溫、良、恭、儉、讓以得之。夫子之求之也，其諸異乎人之求之與？」
1.10 Zǐ Qín wèn yú Zǐ Gòng yuē: “Fū zǐ zhì yú shì bāng yě, bì wén qí zhèng, qiú zhī yú?” Zǐ Gòng yuē: “Fū zǐ wēn, liáng, gōng, jiǎn yǐ dé zhī. Fū zǐ zhī qiú zhī yě, qí zhū yì hū rén zhī qiú zhī yú?”
1.10: Zi Qin asked Zi Gong: If a gentleman arrives in a correct/right nataion, certainly must listen/come to know its laws/government, (does) he seek/request it? Or give it (to him)?” Zi Gong said: “The gentleman is warm, virtuous, respectful, temperate, (and) this allows him to obtain it (knowledge of the laws). The gentleman who seeks/demands it, perhaps different from/to people who seek/demand it?”
1.10: Zi Qin asked Zi Gong: If a gentleman arrives in a state, certainly he must come to know its laws; does he seek it out? Or is it given to him?” Zi Gong said: “The gentleman is warm, virtuous, respectful, and temperate; this allows him to obtain it. The gentleman’s seeking of it, is it different from other people’s seeking of it?”
夫子溫、良、恭、儉
The final sentence is very ambiguous and I suspect something of a red herring. As you may notice it is not clear if the gentleman's method is or isn't any different from that of other people. The point, I suspect, is to draw attention to the virtues expressed in the previous phrase: 溫、良、恭、儉. These describe the master’s way of gathering information: being warm, respectful, virtuous, and temperate. In principle this allows the gentleman to more safely navigate the new customs or laws. This helps the gentleman gain information that may help him avoid trouble, and it may help him negotiate his situation should he accidentally transgress a custom or law. There will always be areas where the gentleman lacks knowledge, so the point is not that he gets all the information beforehand (though this helps) – the point is his disposition helps him enter a new society in a manner that is non-threatening and that allows for negotiation and dialogue.
求之與？抑與之與?
1.10 Zǐ Qín wèn yú Zǐ Gòng yuē: “Fū zǐ zhì yú shì bāng yě, bì wén qí zhèng, qiú zhī yú?” Zǐ Gòng yuē: “Fū zǐ wēn, liáng, gōng, jiǎn yǐ dé zhī. Fū zǐ zhī qiú zhī yě, qí zhū yì hū rén zhī qiú zhī yú?”
1.10: Zi Qin asked Zi Gong: If a gentleman arrives in a correct/right nataion, certainly must listen/come to know its laws/government, (does) he seek/request it? Or give it (to him)?” Zi Gong said: “The gentleman is warm, virtuous, respectful, temperate, (and) this allows him to obtain it (knowledge of the laws). The gentleman who seeks/demands it, perhaps different from/to people who seek/demand it?”
1.10: Zi Qin asked Zi Gong: If a gentleman arrives in a state, certainly he must come to know its laws; does he seek it out? Or is it given to him?” Zi Gong said: “The gentleman is warm, virtuous, respectful, and temperate; this allows him to obtain it. The gentleman’s seeking of it, is it different from other people’s seeking of it?”
夫子溫、良、恭、儉
The final sentence is very ambiguous and I suspect something of a red herring. As you may notice it is not clear if the gentleman's method is or isn't any different from that of other people. The point, I suspect, is to draw attention to the virtues expressed in the previous phrase: 溫、良、恭、儉. These describe the master’s way of gathering information: being warm, respectful, virtuous, and temperate. In principle this allows the gentleman to more safely navigate the new customs or laws. This helps the gentleman gain information that may help him avoid trouble, and it may help him negotiate his situation should he accidentally transgress a custom or law. There will always be areas where the gentleman lacks knowledge, so the point is not that he gets all the information beforehand (though this helps) – the point is his disposition helps him enter a new society in a manner that is non-threatening and that allows for negotiation and dialogue.
求之與？抑與之與?
抑 can be tricky. 抑 can mean restricting something, or it can serve as
a disjunctive. In this case, it occurs in the middle of two alternatives and so
probably serves as the disjunctive. If we think of the second option as
limiting or excluding the first then we can see how the idea of an alternative
is coherent with the idea of an alternate option. In other words, one of the
two possibilities may occur, but whichever does restricts or cuts off the
possibility of the other.
其諸異乎人之求之與?
The final proposition is also difficult because 之 can function as a pronoun and
possessive. We can parse 夫子之求之也 as “the
gentleman of seeking of (it). It seems the possessive meaning (of) is the basis
of the character. The pronoun status comes from merely shortening the usage to
omit redundant information, reducing “of it” to “(of) it. The presence of 也 may also be a clue that 之 is functioning more like a
pronoun in this case.
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