The Ludibrium of Living Well

Abstract

In the present article a new case will be made for the philosophical and religious merit of the Xiang’er commentary to the Laozi. Throughout the text there is a normative emphasis on reaching sagehood and the levels of obedience and cultivation that this entails. The Xiang’er prescribes a preparatory morality that readies Daoist practitioners for the eventual return to the Dao from which everything sprang. While this creates a temporary equilibrium in which commoners are held in check by a matrix of morality, this is but a stepping stone towards the ultimate dismantling of the edifice of human consciousness and the cosmic return to the Dao, as of yet the prerogative of sages. This creates a grim religious worldview in which humans are tasked with muting the clamour of the species in order to restore the original calm and stillness of the cosmic Dao.

本文旨在探討《老子想爾注》在結合道家理論與實踐方面作出的宗教與哲學價值。當人類文明陷於絕處亟待拯救，道家卻嚮往回歸世界離析前的道。這種對發生時序的重新編寫有兩條進路：首先是道德，即一些必須嚴格服從的規訓。這些規訓由史官把持，小至絲毫的道德逾矩，到超越想象的暴行，都會被記錄在案，作為道德的歷史評判。可是，這套道德體制不隻是為了讓俗世生活更安寧舒適，它還帶有一種指向宇宙的宗教架構﹔因此，在道德以外的另一條進路是氣的內在修煉。這種氣指的是宇宙萬物的構成母體。道德和內在修煉兩條進路讓人回到墮落之前的原初混沌。由此可見，道家的道德是結合了其形而上學的：對規訓的服從和內在修煉的最終目的是與道的重新連結。由此兩者獲得的世間幸福生活，就如玩偶一樣應合一個更高的真實。這並非說在《想爾注》中道德是無關緊要的，但它隻是復歸的起點﹔真正的道路由陪養人與宇宙的連結而展開。這條道路有不同程度的成就：低下者不服從道德卻自私地欲求得道﹔得道的聖人則能超越世間和生死。

Keywords:

• Daoism
• sagehood
• return
• consciousness
• morality

關鍵詞:

• 道家
• 聖人
• 復歸
• 意識
• 道德

Notes

1 Strickmann 1979, pp. 165–167.

2 Girardot 2008, p. 6.

3 Girardot 2008, p. 55.

4 Girardot argues that both Confucianism and Daoism are medicinal in nature in that they diagnose a fundamental illness that human society must be cured of through any of a variety of means. What sets the Daoist medicinal approach apart from the Confucian one is that the latter aims to return to the harmony at the time of the great sages of some remote, almost mythical, past. This is not thoroughgoing enough for the Daoist, and a return to even that which came before the golden days of civilization is called for (Girardot 2008, p. 32).

5 The version of the commentary known to us was part of the Dunhuang 敦煌 cache procured by Aurel Stein and is listed as Stein 6825 in the British Library (Schipper – Verellen 2004, pp. 74–77). It is mostly referred to as Laozi xiang’er zhu 老子想爾注, which in itself is shortened to simply the Xiang’er 想爾. The longer name Laojun Daodejing xiang’er xun 老君道德經想爾訓 is also used. While the term xiang’er can be roughly translated into “thinking of you,” it is, per academic custom, left untranslated here. Liao Shu-Hsien explains that the title has a religious connotation, as it relates how, in deep contemplation it might suddenly feel as if the immortals descend to illuminate. Accordingly, these words were recorded for the purposes of revealing and teaching this esoteric realization (Liao Shu-Hsien 2017, p. 41).

6 Girardot argues that this “return” is a never-ending movement of return, unrestricted by any terminus. I will argue that there is good reason to entertain the thought that there is exactly such a terminus posited in the Xiang’er. Whatever this end-point is, it lies far away from ordinary, conscious human existence. While Girardot is certainly not wrong in highlighting the importance of “return,” it will be argued below that this concept is not one-sided and consists of two avenues. This tension in Girardot’s understanding of the concept of return has also been picked up by two early critics. Sarah Allan pointed out that “[i]n evolutionary terms […] hun-dun was not this era of simplicity but an even earlier stage before the world had taken its present form with men and animals living upon it” (Allan 1985, p. 390). Even more critically, Harold Roth wonders, “[h]ow could hun-tun possibly refer to both a ‘paradise condition’ before the rise of the phenomenal world and a primitive society that quite obviously must come after it?” (Roth 1985, p. 237).

7 Ziporyn 2020, p. 72. 南海之帝爲儵，北海之帝爲忽，中央之帝爲渾沌。儵與忽時相與遇於渾沌之地，渾沌待之甚善。儵與忽謀報渾沌之德，曰：「人皆有七竅以視聽食息，此獨無有，嘗試鑿之。」日鑿一竅，七日而渾沌死. Zhuangzi jishi, p. 309.

8 Girardot 2008, p. 10.

9 Goldin 2008, p. 3, emphasis in original.

10 Girardot 2008, p. 30.

11 Girardot 2008, p. 8.

12 The movement was also (pejoratively) known as Wudou mi dao 五斗米道 (Way of the Five Bushels of Rice) after the tithe initially demanded of its followers.

13 Kleeman 2016, p. 74.

14 Zhang was also referred to as Zhang Daoling 張道陵. Kleeman writes that “Ge [Hong] is the first source to record the name Daoling, with the addition of the character dao [道] to indicate his religious status” (Kleeman 2016, p. 65).

15 Goldin 2002, p. 118.

16 Raz 2012, p. 67.

17 According to Grégoire Espesset, while the Hanzhong community under Zhang Lu is often described as a theocracy in secondary and tertiary Western sources, “theocratic forms of political authority were the rule rather than the exception” in the history of China (Espesset 2009, pp. 1070–1071). Accordingly, referring to the original Celestial Master community in present-day Sichuan, as a theocracy would mean fairly little.

18 For an overview of the research done into the authorship and dating of the commentary see Bokenkamp 1999, pp. 58–62.

19 According to Alan K.L. Chan there is a certain upwards trend in the commentarial history available to us, and works like the Xiang’er should, thus, not be viewed as isolated from other works that similarly build a new narrative around the Laozi. Taking the commentaries of Yan Zun, Heshang Gong and Xiang’er together, we can see a move away from the political recommendations of the Laozi towards a more spiritual and religious focus on the individual himself. More than commentarial regurgitation of this ancient political treatise, these commentaries of the latter Han can, and should, therefore be seen as important testimonies to a new sensitivity to spiritual and religious self-enhancement, and the place that the practices recommended have in an ideal clustering of Daoists. See Chan 1998.

20 Yu Ping argues that the Xiang’er is of inestimable value because it represents the religious system of actual believers, namely the early members of the Celestial Master movement. Yet it was more than just a religious manual. It effectuated a shift in religiosity in China as a whole. He thus describes the Xiang’er as a kind of signpost that marks the formation of Daoism as the autochthonous religion of China (Yu Ping 2012, p. 56).

21 Boltz 1982, pp. 103–109.

22 Boltz 1982, p. 109.

23 Jiang Zhenhua writes that the critical spirit of the Xiang’er commentary participated in the overall critical atmosphere that surrounded the end of the Han Dynasty. This critical posture, moreover, was necessary for the authors to solidify the position of (religious) Daoism at the time. Of course, Jiang continues, this was the only way for these young religious movements to develop in the first place (Jiang Zhenhua 2005, p. 155).

24 In a later text Puett also relates the Xiang’er to two spirit visualisation manuals, the Huangting jing 黄庭經 and the Laozi zhongjing 老子中經. See Puett 2010.

25 Puett 2004, p. 19.

26 Zheng Changqing and Zhan Shichuang show how influential the commentary actually was in the history of Daoism and argue that its importance far transcended its use by members of the early religious sect. Historical records indicate that the Xiang’er commentary became common currency among Daoist initiates. According to the Northern and Southern Dynasties era Chuanshou jingjieyi zhujue 传授经戒仪注诀 [Annotated Instructions on Liturgies for the Transmission of Scriptures and Precepts] it was already a must-read scripture for Daoists. Accordingly, Zheng and Zhan write that the commentary’s value cannot merely be reduced to the religious doctrine of the sect of the Wudou mi dao. In fact, it proved to have an immense impact in the development of later Daoism more generally (Zheng – Zhan 2010, pp. 84–85).

27 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 79; Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 7. I have used Bokenkamp’s translation of the Xiang’er passages. Unfortunately, as Terry Kleeman notes in his review of the work, “[i]t is regrettable […] that Chinese and Japanese characters are limited to [the] endnotes, a glossary, and the bibliography” (Kleeman 2000, p. 145). For the Chinese I have used Jao Tsung-I’s 1956 study and reproduction of the Xiang’er text (Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian). Citations from this work are given alongside the translation by Bokenkamp. It must be noted that Jao “not only punctuated the text, but divided it into the standard chapters of the received Laozi. The manuscript is not so divided, so this amounts to an act of interpretation which silently valorizes the received text” (Bokenkamp 1993, p. 37n2). In spite of Bokenkamp’s observation I have copied Jao’s punctuation.

28 Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 17.

29 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 95. 貪榮寵，勞精思以求財. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 17.

30 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 79. 勿知邪文，勿貪寶貨. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, pp. 6–7.

31 Bokenkamp writes that the “[t]he disdain shown by the Laozi for the primary Confucian moral concepts is well known. The Xiang’er commentary intensifies this attack and places it within the all-embracing framework of its metaphysics” (Bokenkamp 1999, p. 52).

32 Straw dogs are mentioned in the fifth chapter in the Laozi and refer to figures of dogs made out of straw or grass that served a temporary, sacrificial purpose. They are also mentioned in the Zhuangzi. Ames and Hall write that these “sacrificial artifacts are celebrated according to the proper season, then abandoned when that season has passed. Even a clutch of straw is entitled to reverence at the proper time and place” (Ames – Hall 2003, p. 85). These straw dogs are, as it were, playthings and therefore serve as an excellent metaphor in the present work.

33 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 82. 黃帝仁聖知後世意，故結芻草爲茍，以置門戸上，欲言後世門戸皆芻茍之徒耳；人不解黃帝微意，空而效之，而惡心不改，可謂大惡也. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, pp. 8–9.

34 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 137. 道尊且神，終不聽人，故放精邪，變異汾汾，將以誡誨. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 47.

35 Watson 2007, p. 109. 人能弘道，非道弘人. Lunyu yizhu, p. 168. Although Dao had vastly different connotations in Daoism and Confucianism, this citation aptly introduces the difference between so-called Confucian humanism and Daoist anti-humanism (or non-humanism).

36 Boltz finds an important clue in the Xiang’er commentary on Chapter 4 in the Laozi. In the Mawangdui manuscript we read 湛呵似或存 which Ames and Hall translate as “[s]o cavernously deep – it only seems to persist” (Ames – Hall 2003, p. 83). The idea here is that while Dao is ineffable, and infinite in complexity and depth, it seems to appear sometimes as huo cun 或存, and, perhaps, not at other times. The character huo 或 is replaced in the Xiang’er by chang 常, meaning “always.” In other words, despite the ineffability of Dao, it is nonetheless always there. It does not show itself now and then like a prairie dog but is always watching. Dao’s ambassadors in the Celestial Bureaucracy, then, can also be believed to be active around the clock.

37 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 108. 天察必審於人，皆知尊道畏天. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 25.

38 This interpolation is Bokenkamp’s, based on context. In the Xiang’er passage cited here, as well as in the original Laozi passage, the character used to refer to wind is feng 風. In the classical texts at our disposal, both feng and qi 氣 are used to refer to wind(s). The difference between these lies in the quality of the wind(s) alluded to. Elisabeth Hsu explains that feng generally referred to violent wind(s), while qi referred to more natural wind(s). She adds that in the early texts, qi also had the connotation of so-called internal wind(s), while feng referred to external, environmental wind(s). While there was certainly overlap between the two, Hsu cautions that, at least “[i]n medical writings, the notion of qi never entirely replaced feng” (Hsu 2007, p. 118). In fact, feng would later on be understood as potentially causing madness (Hsu 2007, p. 129).

39 Bokenkamp 1999, pp. 117–118. 不合清靜自然，故不久竟日也 … 天地爲飄風趍雨，爲人爲誡，不合道，故令不久也. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 32.

40 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 115. 古今常共此一道，不去離人也. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 30.

41 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 100. 人欲舉事，先考之道誡，安思其義不犯道，乃徐施之，生道不去. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 20.

42 Ōfuchi Ninji 1991, pp. 25–57; Kleeman 2016, pp. 91–94.

43 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 96. 道如是，不可見名，如无所有也. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 18

44 Bokenkamp 1999, pp. 96–97. 今世間僞伎指形名道，令有服色名字，狀貎，長短，非也，悉邪僞耳. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 18.

45 Bokenkamp somewhat archaically translates qi 氣 as pneuma(s). See Bokenkamp 1999, pp. 15–20 for his explanation of this. Other than in citations from Bokenkamp, it is here simply left untranslated.

46 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 82. 道氣在間，清微不見，含血之類，莫不欽仰。愚者不信. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 9.

47 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 113. 分之與萬物，萬物精共一本. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 29.

48 Despite this intellectual pedigree, Puett stresses that the Xiang’er differs from these earlier texts quite significantly as well. For these earlier texts inner-cultivation had the goal of personal transcendence and its concomitant spiritual potencies such as immortality, time travel, the ability to fly, heal, etc. In the Xiang’er, man is enjoined to enter a program of self-divinization in order to fulfil a desire of Dao itself, and to become, in essence, a ventriloquial figure sitting on its lap.

49 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 83. 精結爲神，欲令神不死，當結精自守. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 9.

50 Bokenkamp 1993, p. 43.

51 Bokenkamp 1999, pp. 113–114. 要諸行當備。所以精者，道之別氣也，入人身中爲根本 … 夫欲寳精，百行當脩萬善當著. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 29.

52 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 95. 人但當保身，不當愛身，何謂也？奉道誡，積善成功，積精成神，神成仙壽，以此爲身寶矣. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 17.

53 Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 8.

54 Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 8.

55 For Wan Zhiquan, the Xiang’er is important for its aesthetics. In earlier Daoist aesthetics, naturalness (ziran 自然) was emphasized. While in newer texts like the Xiang’er moral cultivation is extolled, and the highest value becomes “virtue” (shan 善). This process is valued as being beautiful (mei 美). Wan thus argues that the commentary’s elevation of Dao to truth, virtue and beauty should be seen as one of its main contributions. This gives new impetus to the obtaining of longevity as the highest aesthetic ideal in religious Daoism (Wan Zhiquan 2010, pp. 128–129).

56 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 90. 嬰兒無爲故合道，但不知自制，知稍生，故致老，謂欲爲柔致氣，法兒小時. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 13.

57 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 86. 水善能柔弱，像道。去髙就下，避實歸虛，常潤利萬物，終不爭，故欲令人灋則之也. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 11.

58 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 80. 能行者，便像道也，似帝先矣. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 8.

59 Philosophical “truths” have traditionally been viewed as communicated most fluently by concepts and terms. Against the wave of rationalization sweeping through the academic world, Zürn defends the value of images and metaphors in the communication of valuable philosophical ideas. This responds directly to a problem inherent in how humans perceive the world. Rationality cannot account for everything that goes on and everything that passes. Our enquiries, consequently, always fall short of completeness. In order to combat this perceived “lack,” we employ an army of imagery and metaphors. Paradoxically, perhaps, their use reflects our relationship with the world around us more clearly than strict and impersonal terminology ever could. When we map out the changes in the application of such imagery and metaphor we essentially engage in an “archeology of the imagination” (Zürn 2018, p. 303) that calibrates our insight into people’s worldview.

60 Zürn 2018, pp. 321–322.

61 Chai 2019, p. 25.

62 Chai 2019, p. 26. Chai is realistic about the contentious nature of the term, especially in any discussion of classical Chinese sources. Therefore, he affirms that the freedom he reads into texts like the Zhuangzi does not refer to any notion of (individual) human freedom (Chai 2019, p. 143), but to some more distinct, cosmological variant. As such, freedom does not refer to the overcoming of whatever obstacles in life (Chai 2019, p. 139), but rather encompasses the complete letting-be of all things in existence. Only then is all in communion with Dao (Chai 2019, pp. 149–150). Heeding this inherent connection is the same as cosmological freedom. Freedom, then, is the gold-standard of all existence free from human interference by means of human consciousness.

63 We could also argue that the Dao “merely” desires to streamline human society to such a degree that these same patterns will not develop. This would require an overhaul of everything that is so essentially human, that the aim would be for some sort of transhumanist empire that would resemble any clusters of humankind only in form. It is doubtful that we could still speak of “humankind” in that case.

64 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 108. 治國法道，聽任天下仁義之人，勿得強賞也. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 25. Force (qiang 強) and reward (shang 賞) are of course prime characteristics of the traditional means of societal management by the ruling elite. When these fall away, society must have changed significantly and, fairly certainly, unrecognizably.

65 Pines 2016, p. 12.

66 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 135. 富貴貧賤，各自守道爲務. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 45.

67 Bokenkamp 1999, p. 108. 是故絕詐聖邪知，不絕眞聖道知也. Laozi Xiang’er zhu jiaojian, p. 25.

68 It is interesting to note that in two other texts associated with organized Daoism, actual quotas are given. In the Nüqing guilü 女青鬼律 (The Demon Statutes of Nüqing) we read that “[t]he lords of the Three Bureaus will select the seed people from among those who employed Merging Pneumas [heqi 合氣] to the total of 18,000. From the past till the present only a few [have been selected]; the great quota is yet unfilled so you should exert yourself, change your heart, and transform your innards to become a Perfected of the Dao” (Raz 2008, p. 107). Furthermore, as Hubert Seiwert writes, according to the Taiping jing 太平經 only ten percent of the people will survive the impending apocalypse (Seiwert 2003, p. 50n78).

69 As mentioned above, this seems to be Girardot’s interpretation of the constant movement of return.

70 Unfortunately, the commentary on this particular chapter is missing.

71 Lau 1982, p. 61. 反者道之動. Laozi gujin, p. 417.

72 Michael Puett takes these ideas to their extreme when he writes that “[t]he Way wishes not to have a body. But it also wishes to nourish spirits […] bodies are necessary for this activity. Thus, the Way has a body – the cosmos – in order to nourish spirits. And the Way wishes for humans to nourish spirits as well – and thus we have bodies too” (Puett 2004, p. 14). In fact, Puett argues that while this is not spelled out in the text, it appears that “the Way – reluctantly – formed a cosmos and, to a lesser level, formed human bodies. All of these forms are but vehicles for the completion of spirits” (Puett 2004, pp. 15–16, emphasis added). While this sounds strangely appealing, there does not seem to be sufficient evidence in the text. If humankind is nothing more than a vehicle of essence, why would it have emerged? Why, moreover, given the overwhelming powers of the Dao does it not just get rid of humankind altogether?

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Robbert Zandbergen

Robbert Zandbergen obtained his Ph.D. from the University of Macau. He previously studied in Leiden, the Netherlands, and Shanghai, China. He researches Eastern and Western philosophies, in particular the Huainanzi, Laozi, Schopenhauer, Freud, and Nietzsche. He currently lectures in Amsterdam where he researches the cloudy interface between transhumanism and antinatalism.