Wandering on the Way

"There are a number of important texts that form the core of the Daoist tradition. The most famous one, and the earliest, is Laozi’s Tao Te Ching , which is very short but suggests a lot. The second most important is what this book is a translation of. In Chinese it’s called Zhuangzi , supposedly written by a man named Zhuang Zhou, and it is one of the most playful texts you’ll ever read. It’s not philosophy in the way Plato or Aristotle did it, it’s very literary and, although written in prose, wonderfully poetic. Although written in a very early period of Chinese history, the fourth century BCE, in a way it’s post-modern. It questions all the things that we take for granted. There is a very famous passage in which the author dreams he is a butterfly, and he doesn’t really know whether he is a man dreaming he is a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he is a man. It’s a poetic image that is designed to question our accepted view of reality. There’s also the story of the frog in the well, who can’t see the great big complicated world outside because he only knows the well. Or the story of insects that only live for one season, so will only know summer and never understand the concept of the cold. There’s a lot in the book about relativism, perspective and ways of looking at the world. Zhuang Zhou challenges and problematises our conventional notions of reality every step of the way. He asks: Why do we make these kind of assumptions about the world? There is a religion that became identified with the Daoist tradition. This book is incorporated into that tradition to a certain degree, but it is really quite separate from what eventually becomes the Daoist religious tradition – which is tied up with things like alchemy, longevity and so on. To me, this book is more of a polemical attack on an emerging Confucian orthodoxy. In addition to subverting our accepted views of reality, it challenges the idea that the social world and political life is most important, as it is for the Confucians. There’s a wonderful story in the book about Zhuang Zhou being asked to take up an official post by the king of a nearby state. The king’s ministers say: “We’ve heard of your wisdom, we want you to become an adviser to the ruler of our state.” Zhuang Zhou replies: “I have heard there is a dead turtle that the king cherishes and is kept in a gold box, wrapped in the finest silks. Do you think this turtle would be happier sitting up there on the emperor’s throne or dragging his tail through the mud with the other turtles?” The ministers scratch their head and Zhuang Zhou says: “I prefer to just drag my tail through the mud.” He suggests that there is a deeper and more fundamental reality and experience of life than the order, harmony and social duty and responsibility that Confucians value – this book is a wonderfully playful attack on that. In China, Confucianism has been the orthodoxy, so when most people learn about Chinese culture it’s through a Confucian lens. For many scholars and political figures throughout history, Confucianism has become the definition of what it means to be Chinese – you follow these rituals and you read these texts. Zhuangzi represents an alternative tradition within Chinese thought. When I visit Chinese schools, some of them seem to me incredibly militant. Students live in a very authoritarian school system where they are made to memorise a lot of facts, and recite poetry and ancient texts. I’ve always thought that these schools could use a little less Confucius and a little more Zhuangzi. I don’t dare! But Zhuangzi does offer the idea that there is a natural order to things, and that the Confucians were trying to change or regulate the natural order of the universe. The Confucians would say they were harmonising with the universe by building an orderly society. The Daoists would say the Confucians were creating a very artificial and authoritarian society, whereas people should be free to follow their natural instincts and not follow a rule book in meeting challenges, but just go with the flow. Zhuang Zhou has wonderful stories about artisans – for example, a butcher who can cut through animals missing all the bones because he is not focusing on the technique or thinking about what he’s doing. By just acting naturally, he’s able to follow the natural patterns and lines within the animal, and cut through it in almost magical ways. Again, it’s incredibly post-modern. He says we don’t need to have elaborately defined and structured rituals of performance that regulate Confucian society, we can just feel it and go with our instincts. That’s a wonderful thing to discover in a society which often wears a Confucian gown, and puts a Confucian spin on almost everything that it does."