Tao Te Ching

  TAO TE CHING

  A Bantam Book / September 1990

  Published simultaneously in hardcover and trade paperback.

  Bantam New Age and the accompanying figure design as well as “the search for meaning, growth and change” are trademarks of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Translation copyright © 1990 by Victor H. Mair.

  Cover art copyright © 1990 by Dan Heitkamp.

  Book design by Maria Carella.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Lao-tzu.

  [Tao te ching. English]

  Tao te ching : the classic book of integrity and the way / by Lao Tzu ; translated, annotated, and with an afterword by Victor H. Mair ; woodcuts by Dan Heitkamp.

  p. cm.

  “An entirely new translation based on the recently discovered Ma-wang-tui manuscripts.”

  Includes bibliographical references.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-43463-0

  I. Mair, Victor H., 1943- II. Title.

  BL1900.L26E5 1990

  299′.51482—dc20

  90-242

  CIP

  Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

  v3.1

  FOR DAVE,

  who dances with the Tao.

  The supreme perfection of actionlessness

  He attains through renunciation.

  Bhagavad Gītā, XVIII.49.3–4

  While you …

  Focus your breath until it is supremely soft,

  Can you be like a baby?

  Tai …

  Chuan ch’i chih jou,

  Neng ying-erh hu?

  Tao Te Ching, 54.1, 4–5

  What is the use of running when we are not on the right way?

  Was hilft laufen, wenn man nicht auf den rechten Weg ist?

  German proverb

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Preface

  Acknowledgment

  Note on the Numbering of Chapters

  Note on the Use of Pronouns

  Integrity

  The Way

  NOTES AND COMMENTARY

  AFTERWORD

  Part I: Did Lao Tzu Exist? The Tao Te Ching and Its Oral Background

  Part II: The Meaning of the Title and Other Key Words

  Part III: Parallels Between Taoism and Yoga

  Part IV: Sinological Usages and Principles of Translation

  APPENDIX

  SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

  About the Translator

  PREFACE

  Next to the Bible and the Bhagavad Gītā, the Tao Te Ching is the most translated book in the world. Well over a hundred different renditions of the Taoist classic have been made into English alone, not to mention the dozens in German, French, Italian, Dutch, Latin, and other European languages. There are several reasons for the superabundance of translations. The first is that the Tao Te Ching is considered to be the fundamental text of both philosophical and religious Taoism. Indeed, the Tao, or Way, which is at the heart of the Tao Te Ching, is also the centerpiece of all Chinese religion and thought. Naturally, different schools and sects bring somewhat different slants to the Tao, but all subscribe to the notion that there is a single, overarching Way that encompasses everything in the universe. As such, the Tao Te Ching shares crucial points of similarity with other major religious scriptures the world over.

  The second reason for the popularity of the Tao Te Ching is its brevity. There are few bona fide classics that are so short, yet so packed with food for thought. One can read and reread the Tao Te Ching scores of times without exhausting the insights it offers.

  The third aspect that accounts for the wide repute of the Tao Te Ching is its deceptive simplicity: In the words of the author himself, it is supposedly “very easy to understand,” when actually it is quite difficult to comprehend fully. Paradox is the essence of the Tao Te Ching, so much so that even scholars with a solid grounding in classical Chinese cannot be sure they have grasped what the Old Master is really saying in his pithy maxims. For this reason, I vowed two decades ago that I would never attempt to translate the Tao Te Ching. However, an unexpected event forced me to recant: The recent discovery of two ancient manuscripts in China made it possible to produce a totally new translation of the Tao Te Ching far more accurate and reliable than any published previously. These manuscripts are at least a half a millennium older than commonly translated versions.

  This translation of the Tao Te Ching is based wholly on these newfound manuscripts. Their availability has made it possible to strip away the distortions and obfuscations of a tradition that has striven for two millennia to “improve” the text with commentaries and interpretations more amenable to various religious, philosophical, and political persuasions. And they have provided me with the means to make the translation in this book significantly different from all other previously existing translations.

  In late 1973, when Chinese archaeologists working at Ma-wang-tui, in central China about a hundred miles south of the Yangtze River, unearthed two silk manuscripts of the Tao Te Ching, scholars of ancient China around the world were overjoyed. Forty-nine other important items, including the earliest extant version of the Book of Changes, were also found. It will be many years before sinologists fully absorb the wealth of new materials made available by the Ma-wang-tui manuscript finds, but we are already beginning to reap important benefits.

  By relying on the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts for the present translation of the Tao Te Ching, I have solved a number of problems that have puzzled interpreters of the text for centuries. For example, line 8 of chapter 77 reads “To die but not be forgotten.…” In previously available editions of the Tao Te Ching, this read “To die but not perish …,” which does not really make sense even in a religious Taoist context. There are dozens of such instances where the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts are much more intelligible than the old standard editions, which are the basis of almost all other translations. I have pointed out several of these cases in the Notes.

  The Ma-wang-tui manuscripts have also enabled me to make breakthroughs in determining the origin and composition of the text. In the Afterword and in my translation, I view the core of the Tao Te Ching, as having derived from oral tradition rather than from a single author. This characteristic is obscured by the explanatory comments in all other versions of the text and even more frequently by the use of misleading Chinese characters that has resulted from phonological change over the course of many centuries. Since the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts are much nearer to the date of the composition of the original Tao Te Ching, it is natural that they preserve more faithfully many of the features of the oral wisdom on which it was based.

  Working on the relatively unstudied Ma-wang-tui manuscripts is more difficult than resorting to the ready solutions of the standard editions, which have been repeatedly commented upon and translated. It is also much more inspiring to come to grips with the Ma-wang-tui materials than to rehash t
he standard version yet again. One is conscious of being in the presence of manuscripts written close to the time when the Tao Te Ching crystallized as the foundation of both religious and philosophical Taoism. Without the discovery of the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts, I would never have been prompted to translate the Tao Te Ching; with them, reinterpreting the Tao Te Ching has become a stimulating challenge.

  Once I assumed the task of creating an entirely fresh translation of the Tao Te Ching, I became preoccupied with endless details, such as how to convey the meaning of the second word in the title. I spent two full months trying to arrive at a satisfactory translation of te. Walking through the woods, riding on the train, buying groceries, chopping wood—the elusive notion of te was always on my mind. The final choice of “integrity” is based on a thorough etymological study of the word, together with a careful consideration of each of its forty-four occurrences in the text. In certain instances perhaps another word such as “self,” “character,” “personality,” “virtue,” “charisma,” or “power” might have been more befitting. But “integrity” is the only word that seems plausible throughout. By “integrity,” I mean the totality of an individual including his or her moral stance, whether good or bad.

  We shall return to explore this concept in much greater depth in Part II of the Afterword, but I should like to add here that the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts were instrumental in helping me decide upon “integrity” as the right translation for te in the Tao Te Ching. In the first place, the archaic forms of the Chinese character for te used in the manuscripts caused me to realize that this term signified the holistic inner quality or character of a person. The basic components of the Chinese graph at the time of the writing of the Tao Te Ching were an eye looking straight ahead, and the heart, and a sign for movement or behavior. Visually, these components are much clearer on the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts than they are in later stylized forms of the character for te, which become far more abstract and arbitrary. Secondly, several of the previously unknown texts among the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts, especially those dealing with metaphysical questions, also contain elaborate discussions of te. These, too, served to sharpen my appreciation of te as it was used in the intellectual milieu in which the Tao Te Ching took shape.

  Whether seeking the right English word for te or coping with unusual Chinese graphs that were not to be found in any dictionary, my paramount guide has been historical linguistics. Only by the most rigorous application of this discipline can we hope to come close to a full understanding of ancient texts. At the same time I also sought inspiration from the muse so as not to betray the poetic beauty of the Tao Te Ching. My aim has been to create an authentic English version of the Tao Te Ching that is both eminently readable and sinologically precise. Because the original is in many places maddeningly obscure and frustratingly ambiguous, this was no mean task. Nonetheless, I am satisfied that the final result has been worth all the effort and that the present rendition comes closer than any other to affording someone who knows no classical Chinese the thought-provoking, mind-bending experience of reading the original.

  An unusual feature of the present translation is its format. The layout of the words on the page is very carefully calculated to reflect the linguistic structure of the classical Chinese text. By paying attention to the arrangement of the words of the translation, the reader will be able to discern various grammatical, syntactical, and stylistic features of the original. Placement of particles, parallelism, antithesis, and so forth are all more or less evident in the physical appearance of the translation. Most, but not all, of the Tao Te Ching may be divided into rhymed sections. The rhyme schemes, in turn, fall into many different categories. Only occasionally do I employ rhyme in the translation, instead approximating its effects for the modern American reader by such devices as consonance, assonance, and other familiar poetic techniques.

  The primary duty of the translator is to convey, as nearly as possible, a semblance of the original text in his or her own language. To do so, one must pay attention to form, content, style, diction, and sound. It is not enough merely to transfer the meaning of the original text; one also needs to replicate its effects. If a text is somewhat rough in places, one should resist the temptation to ameliorate it; if it is lyrical, one’s own verse should sing. Because of the history of its composition, the style of the Tao Te Ching varies greatly. I have striven to recreate in my own rendition the various voices we hear speaking out of the past—the Taoist mystic, the political strategist, the Utopian architect, the anti-Confucian philosopher, the clairvoyant poet, the meditative Yogin. If the reader is able to hear with any degree of fidelity more than one of the strains in this thought-provoking concertstück, my efforts will have been amply rewarded.

  In the Afterword I again endeavor to break virgin territory. The first part shows how the Tao Te Ching represents the accumulated wisdom of centuries, not the enterprise of one author. As such, the real title of this book should be something like Sayings of the Old Masters. For the sake of convenience and familiarity, nonetheless, I continue to refer to it as the Tao Te Ching. The Afterword provides an etymological examination of the three words that make up the customary title of the book, together with explanations of the name of the presumed author and several other key terms.

  Another radical departure from the past is my recognition of the Tao Te Ching’s intimate relationship to that other well-known oriental classic the Bhagavad Gītā. Having read both of them in their original languages repeatedly and attentively over the past two decades, I have come to believe that they are connected in an essential way. In the Afterword and Notes I have also discussed many similarities between Indian Yoga and Chinese Taoism, schools of religion and philosophy with which both books are closely associated.

  At present there are only three conceivable explanations for how this relationship could have developed: (1) China borrowed the Yogic system and its attendant practices from India; (2) India borrowed Taoism and its attendant practices from China; (3) both India and China were the recipients of inspiration from a third source. Much research remains to be done, of course, before a conclusive answer can be given. We must also await the results of more thorough archaeological excavations, particularly in Sinkiang (the Chinese part of Central Asia), through which the famous silk roads passed, and along the southeast coast of China, where ships from India and Arabia regularly arrived. Nonetheless, presently available data indicate an Indian priority that can be traced back to at least the beginning of the first millennium B.C.

  It is ultimately of little consequence whether Taoism is indebted to Yoga or Yoga to Taoism. What really matters is that they are both unique manifestations of a common human heritage. That is the light in which I have endeavored to view them in this little volume.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENT

  I would like to thank my editor, Linda Loewenthal, for managing to be both gentle and firm in helping me to make this book more accessible to the people for whom it was written.

  NOTE ON THE

  NUMBERING OF CHAPTERS

  The numbers running consecutively from 1 to 81 follow the sequence of the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts. The numbers in parentheses indicate the corresponding chapters of the previous standard text.

  NOTE ON THE

  USE OF PRONOUNS

  The third person pronoun is often omitted in classical Chinese, but even when it is explicitly stated, rarely is the sense of gender implied. The translator not only has to supply a subject to satisfy the requirements of English grammar, but is forced to decide in each instance whether “he,” “she,” or “it” is more appropriate. To avoid overemphasis on the masculine, I have used impersonal or feminine pronouns for the third person whenever possible. When referring to the “sage king,” however, I have had to use the masculine form because it is a simple fact of history that in ancient Chinese society this term always referred to men.

  INTEGRITY

  1

  (38)

  The person of superior integrit
y

                 does not insist upon his integrity;

  For this reason, he has integrity.

  The person of inferior integrity

                 never loses sight of his integrity;

  For this reason, he lacks integrity.

  The person of superior integrity takes no action,

      nor has he a purpose for acting.

  The person of superior humaneness takes action,

      but has no purpose for acting.

  The person of superior righteousness takes action,

      and has a purpose for acting.

  The person of superior etiquette takes action,

      but others do not respond to him;

  Whereupon he rolls up his sleeves

      and coerces them.

  Therefore,

      When the Way is lost,

                 afterward comes integrity.

      When integrity is lost,

                 afterward comes humaneness.

      When humaneness is lost,

                 afterward comes righteousness.

      When righteousness is lost,

                 afterward comes etiquette.

  Now,

      Etiquette is the attenuation of trustworthiness,

                 and the source of disorder.

      Foreknowledge is but the blossomy ornament of the Way,

                 and the source of ignorance.