Unit 4
English 203: 
Literature of the NonWestern World 
Introduction .Explication Questions Review

Explication:
Reading: 813-38, 848-50, 855-8

T'ao Ch'ien (365-427):

I know that you are very likely reading these Chinese poems for the first time. I also know that this is very likely to be the first time you have studied Confucianism, Taoism, & Buddhism. The poets in this unit each advocate one of these outlooks & denigrate its opposites. 

Knowing that you are not yet very adept at recognizing the characteristics of each outlook, you should look for these images in the poems: The Return

What is T'ao Ch'ien returning from? What is he returning to? The autobiographical story is clear from the first line:
I was poor, & what I got from farming was not enough to support my family.
Although this is a universal problem, you should notice that in this case such concern falls under the purview of Confucianism, which emphasizes family duty. More family:
Friends & relatives kept urging me to become a magistrate. . . . An uncle offered me a job . . . & I trembled at the thought of going away from home.

Again this is universal. But T'ao Ch'ien is Chinese & in his cultural matrix this universal human feeling falls in the purview or category of Daoism, which emphasizes staying at "home" (i.e., not losing one's original nature by imitating fancy Confucian role models). So T'ao Ch'ien uses the universally recognizable experience of homesickness to advocate Daoist values against Confucian values. T'ao Ch'ien argues that Daoist values keep you at home; Confucian values are affected, false or pretentious, & cause you to be alienated from your authentic self. No doubt because of the pressure exerted on him by his family, T'ao Ch'ien tries to do his Confucian duty:
Before many days had passed, I longed to give it up & go back home. Why, you may ask. Because my instinct [original nature] is all for freedom, & will not brook discipline or restraint [imitating li]. Hunger & cold may be sharp, but this going against myself really sickens me. Whenever I have been involved in official life [Confucianism] I was mortgaging myself to my mouth & belly, & the realization of this greatly upset me.

Notice how T'ao Ch'ien turns the tables. Typically the Confucian outlook would sneer at peasant concerns for "mouth & belly," knowing nothing more refined. Here T'ao Ch'ien implies that Daoism offers a more refined & aesthetic life style compared to the Confucian concern for money & status: "mouth & belly."  The "return," then, is from the Confucian world of jobs & money & prestige.  It is a return to one's original nature; a return to the Dao. 

My fields & garden will be overgrown with weeds--I must go back.
Does T'ao Ch'ien really imagine that it is more important to hoe weeds than to be a magistrate?  In the Confucian outlook of professions, prestige, honor, & public service, there is no comparison.  Anyone can hoe weeds.  Being a judge or a magistrate (being called "Your Honor") is prestigious, well paid, & a form of public service (thus paying part of one's debt to the Emperor; i.e., being a good citizen).  The weeds that T'ao Ch'ien is concerned with are those growing in his life or character.  They are Confucian virtues: carefully cultivated manners & duty! The Daoist calls them weeds! 

I consider how easy it is to be content with a little space. 
The poet is only talking about his peasant hut? Poetry is never so flat or literal. He is using the hut to say that he is content with common, peasant life; that in fact he has chosen this unassuming lifestyle in preference to the life of the Mandarin in a city where he would have "a great space" in the sense that he would command those in the entire city or district. His "home" would be the entire district. It would certainly be a life of duty & he could not:
Every day . . . stroll in the garden for pleasure

College students, whose lives are typically very harried, often think that Daoism is almost irresistibly attractive in comparison to Confucianism. What you probably wish for is a little bit of both. When the Confucian pressure is too great, it would be nice to take a Daoist vacation. When we become bored at "home," we wish to get reinvolved with work & people. The Daoist poets are more hard core. They typically advocate abandoning Confucianism & entirely embracing the Daoist lifestyle. This is costly life choice. When you get a toothache there is no money to go to the dentist. The Daoist sage may have drinking friends, but he typically has no family. T'ao Ch'ien has a family (My little son waits at the door 16), but:
As the sun's rays grow dim & disappear from view
I walk around a lonely pine tree, stroking it.
May my friendships be broken off
Our poet is likely to mean official or formal friendships that are part of his Mandarin duty. He is not likely to be thinking of casual relationships he has with his farming neighbors, because these involve no meticulous duties or obligations. 

Near the end of his poem T'ao Ch'ien combines a Buddhist observation with a Daoist value:
So little time are we granted human form in the world!
Let us then follow the inclinations of the heart
The first line is a very familiar Buddhist moral admonition. However, no Buddhist would ever make the inference that T'ao Ch'ien does. Buddhists make the observation about how fleeting life is in order to scold. The point is not to waste your time, but to study Buddhist doctrine & get on with the process of enlightenment. Don't waste a second. Our Daoist tells to "follow the inclinations of the heart." From a Buddhist perspective, this is exactly what is wrong with life; exactly what you must cease to do. 

T'ao Ch'ien rejects both Confucianism & Buddhism in preference for Daoism:
I have no desire for riches [attainable only through Confucian methods]
& no expectation of Heaven [attainable through Buddhist methods]
Rather on some fine morning to walk alone . . .
Or climbing the east hill & whistling long
Or composing verses beside the clear stream
So I manage to accept my lot [natural life] until the ultimate homecoming.
Rejoicing in Heaven's command

What is "Heaven's command"? It is simply to live. Do you first require Confucian instruction & role models to imitate before you can live? Nonsense. Is life as nasty & disappointing as the Buddhists think? Not in these lines. Life is not a problem requiring esoteric religious solutions. Life is to be lived. So, live. 

Biography of Master Five Willows

The footnote tells you that the title suggests autobiography. Any reference to 5 in Chinese culture should cause you to think of what? In the West, probably the first "place" to look or consider in regard to allusions or symbols is The Bible. In China he first place to look is Confucius. The Chinese may not know the Ten Commandments, but they know the Five Human Relationships. Each one of them specifies obligations & duties. So this little piece is a kind of parody of the 5 human relationships that disguise human beings from monkeys. T'ao Ch'ien thumbs his nose at the Confucians & is proudly content with his impoverished, natural life.

We don't know what age the master lived in, & we aren't certain about his real name.
The principle discipline of Confucianism is li: tradition, doing what is proper. Li is necessary defined historically. It must refer to an actual, historical performance by someone. So, T'ao Ch'ien is making fun of the Confucians, suggesting that what they consider fundamentally important doesn't really matter. 

He liked to read but didn't try too hard to understand.
Why not? Because if he did, he would be in danger of becoming a professor or an author, which are Confucian professions. Soon he would be concerned with writing webpages for his classes! Or writing scholarly articles, being concerned about tenure & what editors at various journals are interested in seeing. Weeds. It is better to be:
such a man--swigging wine & writing poems to satisfy his inclinations.

Of course there is a price for neglecting duty:
His dwelling was a shambles . . . . His coarse clothes were full of holes & patches; his plate & pitcher always empty.

Returning to the Farm to Dwell

Pretty much the same theme as "The Return." The first lines make the declare faith in Daoism:
From early days I have been at odds with the world;
My instinctive love is hills & mountains.
"Instinct" is a key word for Daoists, referring to one's original & uncorrupted nature that instinctively knows what is authentic & how to live:
Simplicity intact, I have returned to farm.

Again there is a price to be paid:
My home remains unsoiled by worldly dust
Within bare rooms I have my peace of mind.
His "home" is his mind & character. The "bare rooms" are those of his mind or character. Notice the paradox of Daoists so elegantly declaring their ignorance! T'ao Ch'ien says he knows nothing -- "bare rooms" instead of libraries. Yet the elegance of the poem belies the claim of being a "bare room." Unless we are militant Confucians, it is not necessary to attempt to drive Daoists to admit such contradictions; to admit that they, at least as much as the Confucians, are dedicated to poetry. 

On Moving House

Bashing Confucianism again. The theme contrast simple folk (who unconsciously follow the Dao) with the artificial & affected lifestyle of Confucian Mandarins:
For long I yearned to live . . .
Where many simple-hearted people live
With whom I would rejoice to pass my days.
We can easily imagine what T'ao Ch'ien hopes to escape: false sincerity, office politics, malicious gossip, petty & sneering competition.

Much of the poem is universal. We could imagine these sentiments & insights to be about almost any society. Lines 9-12, however, are distinctly Chinese. Why? T'ao Ch'ien sketches an ideal life. The implied question might be: "what is the meaning of life?" We can imagine that Jewish/Christian/Muslim answers would I to be concerned with examining the Torah/Bible/Koran for explicit & perfect answers to life's questions. We could also imagine Socrates or Plato or some later scientist relentlessly questioning experience to find the Truth. Remember the beginning of our study of China? Our text said:
In contrast to other ancient literary cultures . . . The Chinese tradition begins with lyric poetry (534).

The ideal life is one devoted, not to the Truth, but to poetry, which defies every attempt to pin down an exact meaning or Truth:
From time to time my neighbors come
A good poem excites our admiration
Together we expound the doubtful points.
The Dao cannot be mathematically or scientifically made explicit. It can only be poetically suggested or evoked.

Notice that T'ao Ch'ien is careful to get in a last dig against Confucianism, suggesting that the peasants can adequately "expound the doubtful points" without any help from a professor or critic or any other Confucian type. 

In the Sixth Month of 408, Fire

In literature houses are often symbols for building an identity or ego (e.g., comprised of many rooms). So it is not only T'ao Ch'ien's modest thatch hut that burns, it is his Confucian moral identity that is also in ashes. The poem also invites a judgment on the Daoist life. It implies the question of whether or not T'ao Ch'ien is satisfied to have "burnt his bridges," renounced the conventional Confucian measures of life (prestige, money, accomplishment, etc.). Does T'ao Ch'ien have regrets?
Since youth I've held my solitary course
Until all at once 40 years have passed.
My outward form follow the way of change [cf. Buddhist anicca]
But my heart remains untrammeled still.
Firm & true, it keeps its constant nature

No regrets. It is a good thing that my house burned down, because I can now see the stars & the moon. Conversely, those who live in Mandarin palaces see nothing but their own image reflected in mirrors. 

20 Poems after Drinking Wine

By now you should be familiar with the Daoist outlook & message. These poems repeat the basic themes.
With the mind detached, one's place becomes remote.
This not only invites us to imagine the simple life. "One's place" also alludes to the social hierarchy & prestige. If you are sufficiently detached, you won't care about your status or moral reputation. 

"Dressed in rags beneath a roof of thatch
Is not the way a gentleman should live.
All the world agrees on what do do--"
"My sincere thanks for your [Confucian] advice, old man.
Though one can learn of course to pull the reins [i.e., imitate Confucian li],
To go against oneself [the Dao] is a real mistake."

Li Po (701-762):

At first glance Li Po seems to repeat the same Daoist themes as T'ao Ch'ien & to similarly denigrate Confucian values. He does express both of these judgments. In addition, he recognizes Buddhist principles without being as dedicated to them as our last poet, Li Ch'in-Chao. 

The Sun Rises & Sets

The title suggests both the natural rhythm of the Dao & temporality -- the common Buddhist recognition that being is temporal. The sun rises & sets a billion times & nothing that takes place under its light persists. Being is process. Being is a verb, not a noun. Sure enough, the poem combines Daoist advice to forget about Confucian obligation with a Buddhist recognition of how fleeting our lives are:
Plants feel no thanks for their flowering in spring's wind,
Nor do trees hate losing their leaves under autumn skies
The implied message of the first line is that you should follow nature (i.e., the Dao) & not be obsessed with obligations & gratitude. The second line implies the Buddhist advice to let go of everything, including Confucian hsiao (filial piety), because it is as futile to try to hang on to experiences as for the trees to hang on to their leaves in the winter. 

The rise & the ending of all things is just the way things are.
This is a forthright declaration of Buddhism, expressing the central belief that there are no permanent structures of any kind, including your ego or soul. Consequently, there is no (Confucian) work to be done. Li Po's inference from this recognition is still recognizably Daoist, rather than Buddhist:
For satisfaction in this life taste pleasure to the limit

Yearning

The title & theme of the poem are entirely Buddhist, treating the topic of tanha, which means thirst or yearning. Yearning:
heave(s) the sigh that does no good.

For 2 reasons. Because being is dynamic, nothing can be possessed. Perceptions rise, have a short duration & expire. Nothing can change that however much we yearn for something permanent. Secondly, we do not know exactly what it is we yearn for. Whatever desire obtains, it is never entirely (permanently) satisfying. We yearn for something new, something different, something we cannot adequately name. The poem ends with the recognition of Buddhist dukkha: that life is inherently disappointing:
endless yearning
Crushes a man's heart.

Li Po doesn't suggest how to "fix" life or escape dukkha, because it is necessary. Everyone in China who read the poem would understand that the "fix" is prescribed by Buddhism. The Western parallel might be a poem about guilt & sin. We would all understand the tacit reference to Christianity; that the "fix" for such feelings is prescribed in Christianity.

Dialogue in the Mountains

I can't prove my judgment about this poem, but I feel that it is about 80% Daoist & 20% Buddhist. Let's read it from the bottom up. The last lines sound Buddhist:
there is another world, not of mortal men.
Daoists are dedicated to this life & never talk about a spiritual realm "not of mortal men." To reach that realm Buddhists join a monastic community & pursue a very acetic & disciplined life. Clearly Li Po does not have this in mind as he is lodged in "these emerald hills" amid the "peach blossoms" & "flowing water," which is always associated with the Dao that takes the path of least resistance, like water flowing downhill.

Drinking Alone by Moonlight

Buddhist ideas are evident in this poem as well. Again it is easiest to read from the bottom:
Let us join in travels beyond human feelings
& plan to meet far in the river of stars.

What is "beyond human feelings"? This sounds somewhat like Chuang-Tzu's "music from empty holes": joy, anger, grief, delight, worry, regret," etc. It is not the same. Chuang-Tzu says: "they are the means by which we live. Without them we would not exist" (558). The emphasis is very much on this world, on the aesthetic appreciation of perceptions & emotions. Li Po's poem conjures the mystery of the void out of which things arise & ultimately into which they go. With "no close friends here," Li Po does not seem lonely. He invites the moon to join him in drinking, even though "the moon never has known how to drink" or have a good time on earth. In nearly all cultures, the sun is associated with conscious thinking, the moon with the unconscious. So too, here Li Po suggests depths in consciousness that echo from the program & discipline of Buddhist meditation & analysis of consciousness.

Tu Fu (712-770):

A contemporary of Li Po, Tu Fu "has always been strongly associated with Confucian virtues" & is considered "to be China's greatest poet" (834). Unlike our previous 2 poets, Tu Fu is not so direct in condemning Daoism, nor so direct in advocating Confucian virtues.

Song of P'eng-ya

How does Tu Fu advocate Confucian values in this poem? By illustration rather than direct advocacy. It is all very well when someone as accomplished & sensitive as Li Po or T'ao Ch'ien let their emotions carry them where they will. It is an entirely different matter when barbarians follow their emotions to weave calamity & tragedy. Our poem describes the flight of refuges from rebels. Tu Fu does not specifically mention the 5 human relationships, but you should have noticed the list of relationships that was conspicuously missing in the Daoist poems:

My baby girl gnawed at me in her hunger
My little son did his best to take care of things
We clung together

The family is saved by "an old friend of mine." After making them comfortable, he "brought in his wife & children" & vows:
That forever I will be your brother, your kin.
The poem ends with the barbarians still destroying these (Confucian) human relationships.

Chiang Village

Another "return" poem. Notice how different Tu Fu's return home is from T'ao Ch'ien's "The Return" (821) or his "Returning to the Farm to Dwell." In T'ao Ch'ien's poems, the actual "home" is always symbolic of being at home in the sense of being in harmony with the Dao. Three is none of this with Tu Fu. Once again we find that the joys in life can be found at home among family & friends. The narrator struggles heroically against rebels or barbarians for what cause? For justice, liberty, freedom -- nothing so lofty. What makes his life worth living is his family:
Wife & children are amazed I survived
Our neighbors are filling the wall,
so deeply moved they're sobbing too.

My Thatched Roof Is Ruined by the Autumn Wind

So the Panhandle isn't the only place that the wind blows! Again notice how different the narrator's outlook is in this poem compared to T'ao Ch'ien's "In the Sixth Month of 408, Fire" (825). T'ao Ch'ien was happy to be unencumbered by a thatched house, feeling that it obstructed his view of the moon & stars. One's true home is the Dao, not a mud hut. But then T'ao Ch'ien doesn't seem to have anyone but himself to worry about. Tu Fu is worried that "my little boy slept poorly" because:
no place was dry,
And the raindrops ran down like strings, without a break.
I have lived through upheavals & ruin
& have seldom slept very well,
But have no idea how I shall pass
this night of soaking.

In this poem, as in the previous 2, Tu Fu does not find beauty & the subtle order of the Dao in the world. He finds ruin, calamity, & barbarian violence that can only be rectified by Confucian (moral) behavior. That is the "house" that Tu Fu hopes to see built at the end of the poem:

A great roof for the poorest gentlemen [ren] of all this world,
a place to make them smile,
A building [of manners] unshaken by wind or rain,
as solid as a mountain,
Oh, when shall I see before my eyes
a towering roof such as this?

Notice the emphasis on "this world," which rejects the consolation of Buddhism. Daoism hardly needs to be rejected, because, as Chuang-Tzu said:
The sage leans on the sun & moon, tucks the universe under his arm, merges himself with things, leaves the confusion & muddle as it is (563). Not much consolation to your crying child. But then getting involved with (Confucian) family life was an error in the first place. 3 of the 5 human relationships are family relationships. Finally, the word "gentleman" is always associated with Confucianism (a person of ren or benevolence; one whose humanity is fully realized); just as the word "sage" is associated with Daoism.

Spending the Night in a Tower by the River

At first sight this poem seems Daoist. Tu Fu has escaped the world, climbed the mountain to look out at the beauty of nature. You should, however, be suspicious of the narrator's dedication to Daoism when you find him, not only in a lodge, but in a study. Daoists do not go into the mountains to look for a library! Then we notice how threatening nature seems:
Frail cloud on cliff edge passing the night
The lonely moon topples amid the waves.
Strangely, it seems that the frail cloud may snag on the knife edge of the cliff & tumble down the mountain. The feeling of danger & violence occurs in the next line as well. The lonely moon may be toppled & swamped like a small boat in the surf. Notice that both of these fears imply that the order in nature is frail & unreliable. Worse yet:
Steady, one after another, a line of cranes in flight;
Howling over the kill, wild dogs & wolves.

The cranes suggest "flight" in the sense of fleeing. The next line is obvious: nature is full of predators & violence. Obviously there is no Daoist consolation here: 
No sleep for me. I worry over battles.
I have no strength to right the universe.

Maybe not, but Tu Fu continues to be dedicated instead of taking Chuang-Tzu's advice to merge "himself with things" & leave "the confusion & muddle as it is" (563).

Li Ch'ing-Chao (1084-1151):

Li is a female poet. Her poetry is militantly Buddhist, indicating a shift of priority or emphasis among the three cultural forces in China 300 years after Li Po & Tu Fu. The theme is no longer a choice between Confucian manners or Daoist freedom. Neither system can cure what ails Li Ch'ing-Chao (& of course what ails the rest of us deluded beings). From the Introduction page, you will recall the 3 fundamental beliefs or "facts" professed by Buddhism:

To "Drunk in the Shadow of Flowering Trees"

What is it that breaks your heart?
Don't tell me this does not break your heart--

There is no specific or exact answer. The speaker is alone & yearning for love, companionship, but finds only:
Pale fog, then dense clouds--gloomy all day long

She has the holiday blues: "Once again it is that autumn holiday." Her hunger or thirst is unsatisfied:
the person,
as gaunt as the chrysanthemums
You recall that it is autumn & the chrysanthemums are withered. 

What would make her feel better? Because this is a Buddhist poem, the answer is nothing. She has a "jade pillow" & fancy "animal-shaped [incense] censer." So she could probably buy what she wanted. The problem is that she cannot name or define what it is that she wants. All the images suggest this: pale fog, dense clouds, gauze screen, the wind blowing up the curtains, &

A fragrance filled my sleeves unseen.

I don't know if the fragrance comes from the incense, but burning incense in Asia is comparable to a Catholic lighting a vigil candle in the West. It is always a prayer or offering to the divine. Why doesn't God or Buddha answer her prayers? Go back to the fundamental principles. Nothing is permanent, including the Buddha. No one can help you. Insight or enlightenment regarding what it is to be human can only be achieved by the individual. It is not a matter of faith in some other agency or being. It is insight into your own feelings. No one can give you that. 

To "Spring in Wu-ling"

Although the talk is of spring, suggesting hope & new life, it must be fall: "the flowers now are gone," their "fragrance [is] in dirt." Our speaker finds life hopeless:
late afternoon, too weary to comb my hair,
Everything in the [Confucian] world is right; I [my life] am wrong;
all that will happen is done;
before I can say it, tears come.
There is no hope for anything new or different that would make life better or interesting: "all that will happen is done." 

The boating in the 2nd stanza again deals in stock or common Buddhist imagery. Buddhist frequently talks about enlightenment as getting across the river of life. Whether this is a convincing interpretation or whether the poet is only hoping that life might be better in the spring at a holiday sight, the last lines are fraught with dukka:
those little boats of Double Creek
won't budge if they are made to bear
this much melancholy.

To "Note After Note"
The first lines echoes Li Po's "Yearning":
Searching & searching, seeking & seeking,
so chill, so clear,
dreary,
& dismal,
& forlorn.

What is she searching for? Happiness; not to be dismal & forlorn. It is not only the time of year when the weather suddenly shifts from warm to cold. It is also our emotions. We are cold, then hot; we love something or someone & then hate it. Our poet envies the wild geese because they seem to fly above our dreary world:
The wild geese pass by--
that's what hurts the most--
& yet they're old acquaintances.

What does that mean? That they are "old acquaintances." It means that even though they fly, the geese cannot truly escape. They will be back. They are "old acquaintances" who fly away but come back; hot & cold, yin & yang. 

The beauty of this world (the consolation of Daoism) lies:
In piles chrysanthemums fill the ground,
looking all wasted, damaged--

There is no refuge from dukkha anywhere in this world:

the fine rain,
on until dusk,
the dripping drop after drop.
In a situation like this [human life]
how can that one world "sorrow" [dukkha] grasp it?
That is, fully express our despair & repeated, profound disappointment with every experience in life. The poems do not provide answers or solutions. The point is to get readers to recognize what their lives are like. Only then are they likely to have a sincere interest in Buddhism, which promises to dispel sorrow. 

Here is a different translation of  "To 'Note After Note'":

I am looking for something missing,
It is so dull, lonely,
And so dreary, desolate, melancholic.
In the season of lingering cold and occasional warmth,
It's hard to stay fit.
By drinking two or three cups of wine
How can I keep off the cold wind at dawn.
It's sad to see wild geese passing by,
They are acquaintances of mine.

Now that chrysanthemum is blooming all over the courtyard,
I am too wearied and dreary,
But who else would pick some to enjoy?
Sitting by the window all alone,
I wish it be dark now all over.
Till evening a fine drizzling was falling on the plane trees,
Dropping, dipping.
How could just a single word "sorrow" be enough
To cover all this.




In our next lesson you will read xxxplease go to the top & click on the next section: Questions.