When Laozi, Zhuangzi, and Liezi appear on Earth, the collection of poems known as the Book of Changes or the Book of Changes ["the classic of change"] is already a classic. It is not only well known and admired in the entire culture and the country in which it is produced, it is also often worshipped. This problem will only worsen over time.
However, the smart people mentioned above rarely, if ever, mention the Book of Changes in their own work. They just use it. If our prophets of Western culture, saints and religious leaders adopt the same approach to our Bible, many mistakes will be avoided, not to mention the mass slaughter.
When I read Stephen Mitchell's latest book, The Second Book of the Tao, I was attracted by this idea, from what he called Zhuangzi and the Doctrine of the Mean. I took the choice. As Mitchell explained in his preface, he decided to divide it into chapters 64 because "it is the number of turns in the Book of Changes, the number of squares on the board, the number of sexes in the Karma, and the only There are two stars in the Beatles song."
What Mitchell created is a miracle - the sequel is fresher and more energetic than the original. Because he is as clear as the translation of the 1988 Tao Te Ching, sometimes it seems very nervous, as if it is trying from
Yes from
Translation, even if he knows such things is impossible. By the way, I have the same impression on Laozi's poetry, so maybe this is just a projection of mine.
But the second book of this Tao is an unfettered dance of the fun of the Tao. As Mitchell pointed out, "If Laozi is a smile, Zhuangzi is a laugh." Mitchell seems to be immersed in the despicable dignity of Zhuangzi; he likes the eccentric irony and irony of the ancient masters. The rendering of prose and poetry is spontaneous, full of vitality, full of simple beauty. As Mitchell said in the original text, they "cut into the bones."
This quality was triggered in Chapter 19 of Mitchell, about the story of Huizi attacking Zhuangzi, where the original critic compared Zhuangzi's teachings with an old tree, the "trunk of the tree is so Rough and knotted, no one can cut straight." Hui-tzu concludes: "Your teaching is like this: big and useless. That's why everyone ignores it."
Well, Chuang-tzu made a pleasant roar of wild cats, yaks and Nothingness. Mitchell commented:
[Huizi] is like a mosquito biting an iron cow. His criticism is completely correct, but it is not the point... We like to see the saint get the best results, and his conclusion is like a tonic chord. If he is useful, what is going on? He was planted in his own righteous manner, where he stood, rough and knotted, completely relaxing himself, his roots deep into the earth, and his branches lifted up to let light enter.
This humorous, precise and gentle ideology refuses to permeate the second book of the Tao, just as they are about the 64s of the Book of Changes. Another example can be found in Chapter 61, which is the behavior of Zhuangzi after his wife's death ["He found Zhuangzi lying on the floor and singing in the bathtub"]. This story actually echoes the third line. Six-star from
From the Yijing 61 ["now he cried, now he sings. If he no longer plays drums, he will find a comrade"]; in addition to Zhuangzi has turned this metaphor into a bump. Mitchell's comments reveal his understanding of this:
In his answer [for the shock of Hui-tzu's behavior], Zhuangzi is a patient soul. What came out of his mouth was amazing. He spoke as if he was waiting for his wife to die to understand death. After the horse was stolen, the barn door should be closed.
Throughout the book, Mitchell's comments are clear, honest, and interesting. I can't think of a more enjoyable and unobtrusive book about the Tao, not the second book of this book.
Orignal From: Book Review - Stephen Mitchell's "Book of Tao"
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