China Root: Taoism, Ch'an, and Original Zen

This is an illuminating book on the origin of Chan/Zen Buddhism in China. In order to fully understand and appreciate Zen, as Hinton points out, we must see it within the context of the native Chinese (specifically Daoist) cosmology and ontology of which Zen is a product. Important Daoist/Zen ideas such as Mind, Buddha, Dharma, Emptiness, Absence/Presence, Dao, Yin-Yang, Li (Inner Pattern), Mirror, Mountains and Rivers, and Wu-Wei are explained with remarkable clarity, relying on the works of people such as Laozi, Zhuangzi, Xie Lingyun, Huineng, Huangbo, and Linji.As illuminating as this book is on the origin of Zen, however, I think the author has unwittingly revealed the limitations of Daoist/Zen philosophy when pursued on their own without regard for other teachings. Although I greatly admire them for their clarity and wisdom, it is my conviction that the Daoists and particularly the classical Zen masters of Tang dynasty placed too much emphasis on the inner freedom and insight that result from the awakening experience without also highlighting the equally important need for social responsibility and the gradual cultivation of character. This imbalance becomes especially salient when we look at the radical non-dualist masters like Huangbo, who is pretty much openly antagonistic against the gradualist scriptural schools that emphasize the continuous Bodhisattva practice of the six transcendent perfections.Spiritual awakening is sometimes held up on such a high pedestal that people tend to mythologize it as a state that confers permanent sainthood on us once we attain it. In truth awakening, by itself, doesn’t make us any holier in our conducts. Even after awakening, we are still very much the same person, with the same awful biases and habits that lead us to unnecessary suffering for ourselves and the people around us. We may be awakened to the essential purity of our Buddha nature, but the karmic hindrances that prevent our Buddha nature from flowing naturally outwards in our thought, speech, and conduct are still deeply entrenched within our subconscious, hence the necessity for continuous moral cultivation after enlightenment.Masters that only emphasize sudden awakening completely ignore this gradualist aspect of practice that one must undergo before and even after he/she is enlightened. Furthermore, they have a tendency to present enlightenment as a panacea that will eradicate all of our life problems once and for all, with no need for continuous practice after having a complete awakening experience. With all due respect, this is seriously misguided. Enlightenment is no magic pill; it gives us profound insights into the nature of consciousness and experienced reality, but it doesn’t automatically produce the perfection of character, which is a different matter altogether. It is apt to explain this problem in terms of the two cardinal values most cherished by modern society: Freedom and Responsibility. As everyone intuitively knows, freedom without responsibility is meaningless self-indulgence, a criticism pertaining to the Daoist and Zen school. Likewise, emphasizing responsibility without freedom is oppressive tyranny, a criticism pertaining to certain aspects of the Confucian school. Therefore, the importance of having a balanced perspective on spirituality cannot be stressed enough: The pursuit of liberating, transcendent wisdom on the one hand, and the compassionate embodiment of that wisdom in everyday life in the other. The Daoist/Zen perspective that this book highlights is important and pertinent to the problem of awakening to our true nature but it is only half the picture of the full spiritual life, the other half being the practice of actualizing the intrinsic goodness of our original nature through our conduct in the world, which is the common goal of both the Confucian gentleman and the Bodhisattva.Although interpreting Zen purely as an extension of philosophical Daoism is illuminating in certain respects, this approach impoverishes the richness of Zen practice to merely the self-centered pursuit of esoteric wisdom for the sake of individual freedom. No wisdom is complete unless it is applied in the service of all sentient beings, which is the core message of Mahayana Buddhism of which Zen is an integral part. And if Zen is to be continually categorized under the label of the Mahayana, we must make it absolutely clear from the start that awakening is not its end goal, but merely an important stepping stone to the bigger end of walking on the eternal Bodhisattva path. For this reason, I strongly support the “sudden awakening, gradual cultivation” (頓悟漸修) approach advocated by the Huayan/Chan master Guifeng Zongmi and the Korean Seon master Jinul, instead of the “sudden awakening, sudden cultivation” (頓悟頓修) advocated by masters of the Hongzhou school like Huangbo and Linji. We can still appreciate the Daoist roots of original Zen, which Hinton beautifully illustrates in this book, but Zen cannot be confined solely to a Daoist vision of attaining spiritual awakening and forgetting about the worries of the world. Zen must absorb and internalize all the Daoist wisdom and move beyond its scope to the project of ever-continuous growth of self and betterment of the world. Zen must move beyond the freedom of enlightenment, important as that is, and take active responsibility in relieving the suffering of the world.As much as I disagree with Hinton’s take on the fundamental role of Zen though, I think this book is an illuminating and valuable guide. The core concepts underlying Daoist philosophy and Zen are clearly explained in the proper context of the Chinese world view. This book is an indispensable read for any student of Zen or Chinese philosophy in general, because it helps us understand clearly that the origin of Zen was as much Daoist as it was Buddhist. But I am also cautious about interpreting the entirety of Zen as Daoism disguised in Buddhist robes, which would in effect relegate the lofty humanitarian ideals of the Mahayana to a philosophy that is primarily concerned with relishing in absolute freedom for freedom's sake, and the spiritual life is about much more than that.+++*On a side note, Mr. Hinton seems to hold the view that the empirically-minded Chinese thinkers, in contrast to their Indian counterparts, did not believe in the existence of an absolute, transcendent reality because the Chinese were thoroughly this-worldly people uninterested in metaphysical speculations about the fundamental nature of the universe. To this, I would like to say that Mr. Hinton does not seem to understand what Indian thinkers mean by metaphysical or transcendent reality as opposed to physical, immanent reality.The world that we live in is characterized by space, time, causality, and duality. Everything that we can see, hear, touch, smell, feel, etc. is confined by those four characteristics. “Transcendent reality,” as abstract and mystifying as the term sounds, simply refers to that area of our experience which exists beyond the confines of space, time, causality, and duality. And from the perspective of Indian thinkers, the only thing in the universe which is spaceless, timeless, causeless, and non-dual in its nature is consciousness, which is precisely what Mr. Hinton in this book calls the “empty mind.” When a person enters samadhi, the thoughts, feelings, and sense perceptions that usually churn in our mind gradually drop away until only a sense of pure being/consciousness remains, a state in which empty awareness is confronting itself. Space, time, causality, and duality do not apply to this state; only the self-existing bliss-being-awareness remains. And this state of consciousness is what Indian thinkers mean by transcendent or absolute reality. The term does not refer to some abstract, speculative realm of existence that we have no way of directly experiencing. I think scholars of Chinese philosophy have a tendency to confuse the word "transcendent" to mean something that lies beyond all human experience, when it simply denotes that which lies beyond the confines of ordinary experience. Consciousness is the timeless "ground" on which all experiences occur, so it is for this reason that Zen teachers have called consciousness the "mind-ground" (心地) and Aldous Huxley the "immanent and transcendent ground of all being."With all this considered, to say that Chinese masters did not recognize the transcendent nature of consciousness is absurd, when it is clearly within the realm of empirical experience through meditation. The Chinese were just more concerned about the immanent aspect of existence in which the Absolute is expressing itself as the ten thousand things of the world. They saw that the immanent and the transcendent were two inseparable sides of the same coin, like yin and yang, so it made no sense to abandon one side in the singular pursuit of the other, which is the general tendency of Indian masters.It's important to always keep in mind that the Indian and the Chinese essentially share the same world view, which they both arrived at, not by abstract intellectualizing that is so characteristic of modern Western philosophy, but by direct empirical investigation into the nature of consciousness. In the end, the key difference between the two is not in their world views, but in that they emphasize different things and thus arrive at two different conclusions on what we should ultimately strive for in this life.(The Indian strives to cease existence in the world by shedding all traces of the ego and completely merging with the unmanifested Absolute of pure consciousness, while the Chinese seeks to actively engage in and better the world by placing one foot in the Absolute and the other in the relative.)

Hinton does some really novel things in this work. Trying to ground Zen in it's Chinese origins, and in turn, in the Taoist style, is a great change of pace for modern Zen. Showing common ideas between the traditions, like enlightenment being inherent by comparing chapters of the Tao-Te-Ching to Zen stories such as Hui-Nengs famous poem, is also great. He also rightly challenges the sort of obsessive meditation culture nowadays, using Taoism and Zen Masters to denounce demonizing thoughts and concepts while not deifying them. His points on the inherent problems of transliteration which blur out the cosmological influence of Daoism seem apt to say the least, and his emphasis on a grounded language as opposed to vague fluffy metaphysics also seems on point.That said, I do have quite a few personal gripes. Grounding Zen in it's philosophically Taoist roots is a huge project. Given the almost anti-philosophical position Zen takes at times, as well as Taoism, you can imagine the challenge of Hinton's task here. Seeing as he doesn't want to spend a millenia doing this work, which he says explicitly in the appendix, "The Absence of original Cha'an in books about Zen cannot be shown beyond the simple statement of the fact (to prove a negative here would require citing the entire literature)" this places a lot of weight on choosing the most important passages, explaining as much as necessary, and or hoping the right poetics (in the Zen/Daoist fashion), can do the work for you (Pg 137).I'm not trying to denigrate the work for attempting to swallow the ocean in one gulp (if there is any subject where boldness is encouraged, it would be Zen) but simply point out that a work of roughly 135 pages is going to depend a lot on taking arguments on good faith. Afterall, as Hinton said himself, they "cannot be shown beyond the simple statement of the fact". This seemed to happen a lot, where it feels like Hinton just sort of "states the fact", giving quote after quote and insisting, with his new translation, and sometimes a repetitive explanation, that this passage from Joshu or Hui-Neng undoubtedly has a Taoist cosmological significance. Now, he may be right, but as I was reading I commonly felt that propositions were made with some backing but never enough to make me very convinced (or at least not enough for me see the significance his translation added). Of course, it doesn't help that in many ways Taoism is fairly vague in it's philosophy, and like Zen, loves to establish propositions just to knock them down. This, again, puts a lot of pressure on poetry, or communicating with words in a way that hits our intuition just right to fill the gaps (or leave them empty) to help us cross the river.It is here that, I think, the readers impression of the work comes down to their appreciation of Hinton's transliterations, such words as "Genitive-source-tissue" as Tao, and it's fundamental attributes of "Presence" and "Absence" which escapes most, if not all translations. While I appreciate how these words, especially "genitive-source-tissue", ground us in empirical and physical experience, otherwise they feel incredibly clunky. In other words, they do nothing for my poetic appreciation. Hinton insist that these translations are important, as they carry over specific philosophical implications from Taoism (Absence and Presence essentially being forms of Yin and Yang) yet, when he puts them into use they commonly make passages strange to read and feel needlessly philosophical. Now, I'm a big fan of the original works of Zen. The Mumonkan, the Blue Cliff Record, and Book of Serenity and the sayings text are my go-to's when it comes to studying Zen. I also have been a fan of the Tao-Te-Ching for many years. This is to say, while I appreciate the philosophical implications Hint's translation might bring, I have always found the intuitive poetics that are at play in each of these works to go much further than insistence on philosophical clarity. This is a personal preference, and one that I may be inclined to because my pre-established familiarity with both traditions. That said, if Hinton is correct about these translation being crucial for understanding Zen, then perhaps I know very little of Zen at the end of the day!Some additional comments:As other have said, Hinton transliterates Zen masters names, and while very neat, loses its charm fairly quickly. Because he doesn't make it explicit who "yellow-bitter root-Mountain" is more than once (it's Huang'po, I believe), and his translations have a good bit of difference than most, it's very hard to feel like you know who's talking. This goes even if you are familiar with the Master.Unless Cleary or Redpine start transliterating the names like Hinton, not reminding the reader which Zen master is speaking really only hurts this work and other students trying to incorporating his contributions.There are also many short chapters going over topics that either felt somewhat beside the point, or as if they needed a lot more room to really flourish... I think Hinton is at his strongest in the introduction, the readers note, and the first few chapters as well in the appendix. It is here I found Hinton most engaging because his writing seemed to have some fire in its belly. This is most apparent in the appendix, where Hinton compares his translations directly with other well known translators and argues his are more accurate. If more of the book was something like this, I think I would have enjoyed it quite a bit more. Though, I don't think most people enjoy that sort of thing.To be clear, for all my complaints, again, I really appreciate the direction Hinton is taking. More and more people are focusing on the original patriarchs of Zen, bringing up contentious question about its origin the sometimes stark difference between Modern American Zen, and original Cha'an. I think Hinton hit's the important aspects of Zen that, though I believe can be gleaned without a clear Taoist influence, are definitely missed in many people's study of Zen.

This is generally a very insightful and interesting book. Some years ago I bought David Hinton’s English translation of Mencius and it was one of the best English translations of ancient Chinese classical texts I’ve ever read. Recently I have purchased the paperback version of David Hinton’s translations of the Analects, Dao De Jing, Zhuangzi and I Ching to complete the collection of his translations of core ancient Chinese texts, as well as this book in ebook format.One criticism I have is not towards the book itself but towards one particular aspect in the Amazon description of this book. The description states that David Hinton’s interpretation of Ch’an/Zen is “anti-Buddhist”. This is completely incorrect. There is no element of “anti-Buddhism” in Hinton’s book at all. He emphasises on the Daoist roots of Zen as this is an aspect that tends to get relatively neglected in many mainstream Western interpretations of Zen, and it is a common Zen approach to abandon the construct once enlightenment is reached with the help of it. The finger can point you to the moon, but once you see the moon you no longer consider the finger. This approach applies to both the Buddhist and Daoist constructs that underpin Zen. Therefore to deconstruct conventional Buddhism in Zen is not “anti-Buddhist” at all. Chinese Ch’an tradition does the same with its Daoist and Confucian sources too.Confucianism, Daoism and Chinese Buddhism are the three central pillars of traditional Chinese philosophy and spirituality. Unlike the West, the Chinese approach to religion and spirituality is generally inclusive and syncretic instead of antagonistic.

Enjoyed other David Hinton books, especially translations. This is a little disappointing as it often repeats ground already covered in Existence and Awakened Cosmos, also not a single reference is made to the great female Tao masters such as Sun Bu-er! It seems that Buddhist institutional sexism still holds sway for Mr Hinton.

Important (to me anyhow) topic beautifully explored in elegantly crafted poetical prose which is wholly suited ( & necessary) to the subject.

Un libro eccezionale nella ricostruzione dell'universo concettuale e nella pratica dei Maestri Ch'an originaliFilologicamente rigoroso, esteticamente godibileConsigliato ai praticanti Ch'an/Zen e agli appassionati di pratiche e filosofia dell'Asia Orientale