自然与神话:一种诗情
日期:04-03
游佐道子
美国西华盛顿大学
摘要美国西华盛顿大学
在互联网和智能手机的时代,我们总是忙于为愉悦而阅读。流行亚文化(与不朽相对)风头正劲,但我想讨论阅读的愉悦根本的重要性。恢复神话学(讲故事)维度对辛勤工作的学者有所补益。追随本心,我们可能会发现些道路,能够保证人、自然和宇宙意识的丰富与不竭三位一体的存在与整全。
在写作研究中国和日本诗歌和故事的文章时,我开始思考我的导师雷蒙·潘尼卡和我最爱的日本哲学家西田几多郎会怎么回溯他们的诗歌和故事。我意识到有一种将这些诗人和哲学家联系在一起的亲和力——也就是他们对自然的态度,与许多将自然视作文化行为的“背景”或“前景”的二元化方式不同,他们将自然当做我们存在的“内景”。“自然”似乎扮演着“原初的对话伙伴”的角色,是人类语言和思想的给予者和接受者。
作为创造力的源泉,自然处于“解释学循环”的活跃且繁盛的运动中——这与使人的想象力被概念钳制和扼杀的死循环截然不同。
我特意避免用“自然”或 shizen 等现代概念来指称“nature”,因为这些词汇内蕴的是自然科学视角下的自然。“自然”或“ shizen ”这样的现代词汇被广泛采用,我们就远离了自然本身。例如“山水”这样的词汇也指代“自然”。但这就是另一个议题了。
在下文中,我将解读几段文本,首先是柳宗元的《种树郭橐驼传》。然后是陶潜(陶渊明)的诗,诗中表达了对超越语言的体验的向往。接下来在进入日本中古禅师道元的经说之前,我们将研读川古俊太郎的日本现代诗和东坡的诗作。我将进而基于潘尼卡和西田几多郎的思想,对自然、文化、语言进行简要的哲学分析。
Nature and Mythos-legein: A Poetic Mood
Michiko YUSA
Western Washington University
AbstractMichiko YUSA
Western Washington University
We are often too busy to read for pleasure in this day and age of Internet and smart phone. Sub species aeternitatis (under the perspective of eternity), however, I would like to endorse the essential importance of pleasure reading. Recovering the dimension of mythologumenon (story telling), is a distinct privilege of otherwise hardworking scholars. And perhaps by following the voice of the heart, we may discover a way or two that will insure the "survival" and the "integrity" of the vital triad of humanity, nature, and rich and inexhaustible cosmic consciousness.
Indeed, what else is a more fitting tribute to honor the 80th birthday of my one-time teacher of Classical Chinese, Professor Weiming Tu?30 We are gathered here in this auspicious vicinity of Mt.Song 嵩山, where Bodhidharma and the second patriarch of Chan, Huike 慧可, met.
While working on this essay on Chinese and Japanese poems and stories, I began to think about how my mentor Raimon Panikkar and my favorite Japanese philosopher Nishida Kitarō would respond to their poetry and narratives. I sense that there is an affinity that bring these poets and philosophers together—namely, their attitude towards nature, their deep appreciation of
nature as the "ingroud" of our very existence, in contrast to more dualistic way of talking about nature as the "foreground" or the "background" of the cultural activities. "Nature" seems to have performed the role of the "primordial dialogue partner," as the giver and the taker of human words and thoughts. Nature as the source of creativity, sets in motion a dynamic and flourishing
30In the summer of 1974 Professor Tu, then at the University of California Berkeley, taught Chinese 130A, "Classical Chinese," at UC Santa Barbara. I was one of his students in that class.
"hermeneutical circle"—diametrically opposed to a vicious circle in which concepts shrivel and stifle our imagination.
Please note that I'm trying to avoid the use of the modern word, ziran, or shizen 自然, for "nature," as it carries the connotation of nature as viewed by the natural sciences. When this modern word "shizen or ziran" began to be widely adopted, we became estranged from nature. There are other words, such as "mountain and water" (shanshui 山水), for instance, to stand for "nature." But this is a topic for another essay.
In the following, I will read several texts, starting with Liu Zongyuan's delightful account of a tree grower Guo. Next, I will read Tao Qian (or Tao Yuanming)'s poem, which celebrates the experiential dimension beyond words. This will bring me to Tanikawa Shuntarō, a contemporary Japanese poet, before moving on to the medi Japanese Zen master Dōgen's sermon, featuring a poem by Su Dongpo. I will then engage in a brief philosophical analysis of nature, culture, and language, by drawing up on the philosophies of Nishida and Panikkar.
I. Text Reading
1. Liu Zongyuan: A story of a tree grower
Liu Zongyuan's remarkable tale on the skilled fruit tree grower, who happened to be hunchback. He picked up his nickname "Camel Guo," as his real name. Camel Guo understood the nature of trees and how "doing what is required at the time of planting a tree, and then doing nothing and leaving the tree alone to take its own course of growth," easily captures the imagination of the ecologically-conscious contemporary North American students.31 In this story, Camel Guo is asked by
31Liu Zongyuan 柳宗元 (773-819), "The story of the Tree Grower, Guo the Camel" 種樹郭槖駝伝, translated as "Camel Kuo the Gardener," by Cyril Birth and is compiled in Cyril Birch, ed., Anthology of Chinese Literature (New York: Grove Press, 1965), pp. 258-259. The original text with commentary is found online, see 種樹郭槖 駝傳, formalhautpsa.sakura.ne.jp/Kanbun/toso-hakkabun/kakutakuda.pdf.
someone, about his secret of growing excellent trees that bear sweet fruit. This is hisanswer.
I cannot make a tree live forever or flourish. What I can do is comply with the
nature of the tree so that it takes the way of its kind.
When a tree is planted its roots should have room to breathe, its base
should be firmed, the soil it is in should be old and the fence around it should be close.
When you have it this way, then you must neither disturb it nor worry
about it, but go away and not come back.
If you care for it like this when you plant it, and neglect it like this after
you planted it, then its nature will be fulfilled and it will take the way of its kind.
And so all I do is avoid harming its growth—I have no power to makeit grow;
I avoid hindering the fruiting—I have no power to bring it forward or make it more abundant.
With other growers it is not the same. They coil up the roots and they
use fresh soil. They firm the base either too much or not enough.
Of if they manage to avoid these faults, then they dote too fondly and worry too anxiously.
They inspect the tree every morning and cosset [i.e., "fuss over"] it
every night; they cannot walk away from it without turning back for another look.
The worst of them will even scrape off the bark to see if it is still living,
or shake the roots to test whether they are holding fast.
nature of the tree so that it takes the way of its kind.
When a tree is planted its roots should have room to breathe, its base
should be firmed, the soil it is in should be old and the fence around it should be close.
When you have it this way, then you must neither disturb it nor worry
about it, but go away and not come back.
If you care for it like this when you plant it, and neglect it like this after
you planted it, then its nature will be fulfilled and it will take the way of its kind.
And so all I do is avoid harming its growth—I have no power to makeit grow;
I avoid hindering the fruiting—I have no power to bring it forward or make it more abundant.
With other growers it is not the same. They coil up the roots and they
use fresh soil. They firm the base either too much or not enough.
Of if they manage to avoid these faults, then they dote too fondly and worry too anxiously.
They inspect the tree every morning and cosset [i.e., "fuss over"] it
every night; they cannot walk away from it without turning back for another look.
The worst of them will even scrape off the bark to see if it is still living,
or shake the roots to test whether they are holding fast.
And with all this the tree gets further every day from what a tree should be. This is not mothering but smothering, not affection but affliction. This is why they cannot rival my results: what other skill can I claim?32
I skip the rest of the text, which talks about the application of Camel Guo's knowledge of tree growing to the art of politics. I would like to mention here, however, that this text captures the meaning of "wu wei" 無 為 , which is sometimes isunderstood to mean a simple "laissez-faire" (letting go all efforts) attitude. In this story, Camel Guo observes and "listens to nature" with no ulterior motive. Nature then reveals the "nature" or property (xing 性) of things. Camel Guo listens to the "nature of the tree" (xing 性), which knowledge allows him to fulfill the tree's potential. Everything under the sun (shinra banshō 森羅万象) has its xing ("property"), which we may come to understand by unperturbed "listening."
2. Tao Yuanming: A poet who sought beyond human words
Tao Yuanming's poem, known to the Japanese as "picking chrysanthemums under the eastern hedge," celebrates the life of a retired poet, who prefer to live in nature, away from the busy world of politics.33
jie lu z a i ren jing いおり むす じんきょう あ Sure, I maintain my abode in
結 廬 在 人 境 廬 を 結びて 人 境 に 在 り the human world.
er wu c h e m a xuan しか ば しゃ けん But no noise of a carriage of
而 無 車 馬 喧 而 も 馬 車 の 喧 なし government officials reaches
wen jun he neng er きみ と なん しか here.
問 君 何 能 爾 君 は 問 う 何 ぞよく 爾 る You may ask, “Why?”
x i n yuan di zi pian と When my heart grew
心 遠 地 自 偏 こころとお ち indifferent to the worldly
cai ju dong li xia 心 遠 ければ 地 おのずから concerns,
采 菊 東 籬 下 へん
偏 なり
32Cyril Birch, ed., Anthology of Chinese Literature, pp. 258-259; emphasis added.
33Tao Yuanming 陶淵明 or Tao Qian 陶潜 (365-427, Six Dynasties), 「結廬在人境」飲酒詩(五)"Composed While Inebriated (5)" or "Poems on Drinking Wine." I used the text compiled in Hasegawa Kunio 長谷川国雄, ed., Chūgoku no koten meicho, Sōkaisetsu 『中国の古典名著、総解説』(Tokyo: Jiyū Kokumin-sha,1977), p. 267. The original Chinese poem, the Japanese reading, and the modern Japanese interpretation of this poem are given.
悠然見南山 きく と とうり もと My dwelling place naturally
you ran jian nan shan 菊 を 采 る 東 籬の 下 became obsolete.
山気日夕佳 ゆう ぜん なんざん み I gather chrysanthemums
shan qi ri xi jia 悠 然 南 山 を 見 る under the eastern hedge
飛鳥相共還 さん け にっ せき よ Lost in time, I gaze at the peak
fei niao xiang gong huan 山 気 日 夕 に 佳 く of Lushan mountain.
此中有真意 ひ ちょう あいとも かえ The mountain air, clearing up in
ci zhong you zhen yi 飛 鳥 相 共 に 還 る the setting sun, is fresh.
欲弁巳忘言 なか しん い Birds fly back home in groups.
yu bian yi wang yan この 中 に 真 意 あり There is something true in this
べん ほっ げん scene.
弁 ぜんと 欲 してすでに 言 を Wishing to describe it, I have
わす already forgotten the human
忘る words.
In his masterful depiction of the clearing mountain air as the sun sets, Tao Qian notices that he was moved into the realm beyond the human "words." He is no longer able to express his thoughts. The logos has dissolved into the realm of mythos and merged into it, Panikkar would say (see below). This happens because his ego is absorbed into the mountain landscape, where the trace of his self is no longer present. Birds flying back to their nests blend into the gentle glow of the setting sun, and the mountain air embraces the poet. These are the lines:
"I gather chrysanthemums under the eastern hedge.
Lost in time, I gaze at the peak of Lushan mountain.
The mountain air, clearing up in the setting sun, is fresh.
Birds fly back home in groups.
There is something true in this scene.
Wishing to describe it, I have already forgotten the words."
A Japanese commentator interpreted these last lines and noted that Tao Qian found himself being transposed to the realm devoid of words.34 This is a veryLost in time, I gaze at the peak of Lushan mountain.
The mountain air, clearing up in the setting sun, is fresh.
Birds fly back home in groups.
There is something true in this scene.
Wishing to describe it, I have already forgotten the words."
34Hasegawa Kunio, Chūgoku no koten meicho, Sōkaisetsu, p. 267. この古巣に戻っていく鳥たちの光景にこそ
自然の真意があるが、私はそれを語ろうとして、すでに 言うべき言葉を忘れてしまっている。
interesting point to me, so I consulted an English translation of this poem by William Acke, contained in Cyril Birch's anthology. The last two lines by Acke read:
"Within these things there is a hint of Truth,
But when I start to tell it, I cannot find the words." 35
The English translation conveys to me a somewhat different impression. The sense of "I cannot find the words" is different from "I have forgotten the words." Language is after all the most essential means of expression available to human beings, and when the words "slip away from us," what else can we do but remain silent? But, no. This is the very region where poets dwell. Human words won't do, and yet it is the only means for the poets to convey their thoughts. In Panikkarian parlance, the logos gives
way to the mythos, and the mythos buds forth a new language.
In this context, I find the following observation by the late B. K. S. Iyengar (1918-2014), the celebrated yoga master, extremely pertinent. Iyengar describes the state of consciousness, which dedicated students of yoga practice of prānāyāma (breathing
exercise) enjoy:
Ultimately it produces the fruit . . . , where there is [an] experience of full
consciousness and supreme joy, where the yogi merges with the Maker of the
Universe and feels what he (or she) can never express—yet cannot entirely
conceal. Words fail to convey the experience adequately, for the mind cannot
find words with which to describe it. It is a feeling of that peace which
surpasses all understanding. 36
3. Tanikawa Shuntarō: Human words reaching out to nature's speechconsciousness and supreme joy, where the yogi merges with the Maker of the
Universe and feels what he (or she) can never express—yet cannot entirely
conceal. Words fail to convey the experience adequately, for the mind cannot
find words with which to describe it. It is a feeling of that peace which
surpasses all understanding. 36
35 C. Birch, Anthology of Chinese Literature, p. 184.
36 B. K. S. Iyengar, Light on Yoga (New York: Schocken Books, 1979), p. 436. The pronoun "she" is supplied
alongside "he." The last line is slightly edited; emphasis added.
This point leads me to another poet, who wished he could use some other means than the human words to express his thoughts. In his case, the words undergo "self-negation" and liberates itself from the yoke of hackneyed vestiges. Words enter the realm of mythos-legein (story telling), out of the self-negation of the logos, the words. The poet's words are purified and rendered truly "poetic." The following poem without a title, composed in April 2017, was Tanikawa Shuntarō's tribute to his lifelong beloved poet friend, Ōoka Makoto 大岡信, who passed a week before at age 86. Tanikawa, wishing to send his friend off with the nature's words of farewell, more eloquent than human words, composed this poem:
To tell you the truth, I wish to send
本当はヒトの言葉で君を送 you off not with human words
りたくない but with the sound of surging and
砂浜に寄せては返す波音で receding waves
風にそよぐ木々の葉音で with the rustling leaves in the wind
君を送りたい that's how I wish to send you off.
Bidding adieu to human voices and
声と文字に別れを告げて letters,
君はあっさりと意味を後に You lightly left the world of meaning
した behind.
朝露と腐葉土と星々と月の Morning due, rich soil with fallen
ヒトの言葉よりも豊かな無 leaves, stars, and the moon—
言 Their silence is far richer than human
words.
今朝のこの青空の下で君を Under this morning's blue sky, I shall
送ろう send you off
散り初(そ)める桜の花び Together with the cherry blossoms
らとともに now beginning to scatter
褪(あ)せない少女の記憶 Together with unfading memories of
とともに guileless innocent girls.
君を春の寝床に誘(いざ To the unnamed one who invites you
な)うものに to the bed of spring night.
その名を知らずに Though I know not its name,
安んじて君を託そう I shall entrust you in peace. 37
37 Tanikawa Shuntarō 谷川俊太郎, "No title." Asahi Shinbun, April 11, 2017. It was a tribute by Tanikawa Shuntarō to his close friend, Ōoka Makoto, who died on April 5, 2017.
In his attempt to transcend the human words, he transcended his individual self. I can sympathize with him that it was the only way Tanikawa, a year junior to Ōoka, could bid farewell to his bosom friend.
4. Dōgen: Nature as the source of awakening (satori)
Dōgen came to consider nature as embodying spiritual awakening, as he observed how one can completely void the races of one's selfish ego through a life of diligent religious practice. It is possible to become "one" with nature, because ultimately the self is "nature." The moon, the plum blossoms, the snow, the azure sea, the mountains—they all symbolically embody "awakening" (enlightenment, or satori 悟). We will read two texts of Dōgen's that illustrate how nature and awakening belong together.
The first is a passage from the "Genjō kōan" 現成公案, "Manifestation of reality as it is," compiled in his collection of sermons, Shōbōgenzō.
人のさとりをうる。水に月のやど Human beings attain "satori," just as the
るがごとし。 moon reflects on a pool of water.
月ぬれず、水やぶれず。. . . The moon does not get wet, and the
悟りの人をやぶらざること、月 water is not agitated. . . .
の水をうがたざるがごとし。 How awakening does not tear apart the
person is like how the moon reflecting on
the water does not disturb the water. 38
Next is a longer text from his "Keisei sanshoku" 渓声山色, "Sound of Valley Streams, Form of the Mountain," also from his Shōbōgenzō. I chose this text, in part because it starts out with the verse by Su Dongpo 蘇東坡 (or Su Shi 蘇軾, 1037-1101) . Dōgen unfolds his meditation following this poem.
38 Dōgen 道元 (1200-1253). His texts are taken from Mizuno Yaoko, ed., Dōgen, Shōbōgenzō in 4 vols, (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1990). "Genjō kōan," in Mizuno, vol. 1.56.
大宋国に、東坡居士蘇軾とてあ In the great country of Song there was a
りしは、…筆海の真龍なりぬべ man Su Shi, whose lay Buddhist named was
し、仏海の龍象を学す。. . . Tōba (Dongpo). He was the true "master
あるとき、廬山にいたれりし dragon" in the ocean of literary
ちなみに、渓水の夜流する声を composition, and in the sea of Buddhist
dharma. . . .
きくに悟道す。頌をつくりて、 One day he reached the vicinity of Mount
常総禅師に呈するにいわく。 Lu. At night, while listening to the sound of
渓声便是広長舌 the valley streams, he attained awakening.
山色無非清浄身 He composed the following verse and
夜来八万四千偈 presented it to his meditation master,
他日如何挙似人 Changzong:
The valley streams are the wide long
tongue of the Buddha.
. . . Form of the mountain is the pure
Buddha's body.
聞渓悟道(もんけいごどう)の All night long, they preach 84,000 verses.
因縁、さらにこれ晩流の潤益 How could I enumerate all these verses
(にんやく)なからんや。. . . to anyone on another day? 39
. . .
うらむべし。山水にかくれた What can we learn from this example of
る声色(しょうしき)あるこ Su Dongpo attaining awakening while
と。又よろこぶべし、山水にあ listening to the valley streams? . . .
らはるる時節因縁あること。舌 You may resent it that there is a message
相も懈倦(けげん)なし、身色 ("voice and form") hidden in mountain and
(しんしき)あに存没(ぞんも water.But you may also be happy to know
つ)あらんや。しかあれども、 that they provide with you the chance for
あらはるるときをや ちかし とな attaining awakening. Nature's tongue
らふ、かくれたるときをや ちか never tires, and nature's form and color
し とならはん。一枚なりとやせ never disappear. Know that when the sound
ん、半枚なりとやせん。. . . of the stream and form of mountain are
山流水不流より学入(がくに revealed to you, they are intimately present
ゅう)の門を開(かい)すべ in you. Also know that when they are
し。 hidden, they are still intimately present in
you. You and nature are one. Even an inkling
of this idea is beneficial. . . .
Begin your study by entering the gate of
"mountain that flows and water that does
not flow." 40
39 "Keisei sanshoku," in Mizuno, vol. 2.107-8.
40 "Keisei sanshoku," in Mizuno, vol. 2.109.
The question I may ask is, how can one see and hear the message of enlightenment preached by mountains and stream (sansui 山水)? Dōgen says that the break comes to one, when one undergoes a "metanoia"—the change of one's mental attitude, accompanied by repentance (zange). Only after one's heart is purified is one ready to prostrate before the Buddha. Mountains and river streams incessantly recite the verses of the praise of the Buddha. One must note here that "awakening" is not something "automatic" or "natural," but rather one attains it by discarding one's self-reliant hubris. Dōgen offers the following advice to his students:
また心も肉も、懈怠(けだい) When you feel exhausted and dull, both in
にもあり、不信にもあらんにはy our mind and body, and you are even
誠心(じょうしん)をもはらし unsure of your faith, discard everything,
て、前仏に懺悔すべし。恁麼す including sincerity, and repent before
るとき、前仏懺悔の功徳力、わ Śākyamuni Buddha. The power of such
れをすくひて清浄ならしむ。. . . repentance will save you and purify your
浄心一現するとき、自他おなじ mind. . . . Once this pure heart fills you, it
く転ぜらるるなり。その利益、 transforms you. The benefit of your self-
あまねく情、非情にかうぶらし transformation will widely spread blessings
む。. . . over sentient and non-sentient beings
alike. 41 . . .
正修行のとき、渓声渓色、山 When you practice your zazen meditation in
色山声、ともに八万四千偈をお this manner, the voice of valley stream is
しまざるなり。自己もし名利身 the form of valley stream; the form of
心を不惜すれば、渓山また恁麼 mountain is the voice of mountain. They do
の不惜あり。… not spare their 84,000 verses of praise. If
you exert yourself for the pursuit of the
Buddha's path, valley streams and
mountains do not spare their guidance and
certainly they will lead you to awakening. 42
II. A Brief Analysis
I will reflect on the points I raised in the previous part of this essay, by turning to the
philosophical ideas raised by Nishida and Panikkar.
41 "Keisei sanshoku," in Mizuno, vol. 2.124-5.
42 "Keisei sanshoku," in Mizuno, vol. 2.126.
1. Nishida Kitarō: Nature as the root of Culture
Nishida Kitarō 西田幾多郎 (1870-1945), right after the 1923 Great Kantō Earthquake that destroyed the Tokyo-Yokohama area, wrote his critical reflection on nature and culture. He saw that the great natural catastrophe was aggravated by the
lack of human foresight. He mentioned the lack of rational city planning, which should have prioritized the safety of the city dwellers. This neglect of the sanctity of life brought him to declare unequivocally that "nature is the root of culture" 自然は文化
の根である. 43 This simple reality, however, was overlooked in the hurried building up of "modern" cities. This issue is eve more urgent today, pushing us to come to terms with the ontological primacy of nature and life.
This conviction of Nishida's runs deep in the East Asian experience. In his earlier essay, Nishida quoted the words by Sengzhao 僧肇 (374-414?), a Buddhist master of Eastern Jin 東晋: "Heaven and earth share the same root, all things form one unified whole" 天地同根万物一体. 44
2. Raimon Panikkar: "Speech of Myth" (Mythologumenon)
In the foregoing, I have already referred to Panikkar's philosophy of the "myth" (or "mythos"), without formally explaining it. It was my hope that the reader may become familiar with Panikkar's idea, as well as to arouse the reader's interest in his
idea of the mythos and the logos.
Raimon Panikkar (1918-2010) developed his notion of the "myth" and the "logos." Here, I will mention only three aspects of the myth according to Panikkar.
43 Nishida Kitarō, "Daishinsai no ato ni" [After the Great Earthquake] (1923), NKZ 13.129.
44 Nishida Kitarō, Zen no kenkyū [An Inquiry into the Good] (1911), NKZ 1.156. Apparently, its full citation should read as follows 天地与我同根万物与我一体. See Mori Tetsurō, "Nishida Kitarō ni okeru 'hyōgen' shisō" [The philosophy of 'expression' in Nishida Kitarō], Nihon Shisōshi kenkyū [Studies in Japanese Philosophy] (University of Kyoto) (2019), 15.17. Sengzhao was a distinguished assistant of Kumārajīva (ca. 350-ca. 409), and helped the team of translators who translated numerous Indian Buddhist Sanskrit texts into Chinese.
(1) The epistemological aspect of myth: the myth is a unique form (sui generis) of consciousness, which stands for the process of thinking emerging and developing, without yet crystalizing that thinking into an idea. Panikkar evocatively describes these
two forms of consciousness as follows:
When the thinking has not yet landed on the thought so that it cannot yet
know what is being thought in the thinking, we are still in the domain of the
myth. 45
The myth (qua "the thinking") belongs to the realm of "direct awareness," while the logos (qua "the thought") belongs to that of "reflexive consciousness." Understood in this way, the "myth" is a kind of "intuition" in Nishida's language, while the "logos" corresponds to the moment of "reflection" (cf. Nishida, Intuition and Reflection in Self- consciousness, 1917).
(2) The hermeneutical aspect of myth: Panikkar sees a dynamic link between the mythos and the logos, marked by "the continual passage from the mythos to the logos, and the constant re-sourcing of the logos in new mythoi." 46 This continual movement of consciousness may be illustrated by the example of the poets trying to go beyond the human words (the logos), and to tap into the realm of life (the mythos), by way of language (the logos). This process gives birth to new imageries (the mythoi).
(3) The practical and existential aspect of myth: Panikkar wrote that myth "purifies thought, it bypasses thought, so that the unthought may emerge and the intermediary disappear." 47 The idea of "purification" brings to my mind Dōgen's advice to his students. Panikkar's reflection is set in terms of the practice of interreligious and intercultural dialogue. This point concerns the ideological conflicts, the necessity of tolerance, and the unexpected effect of tolerance that changes theone who tolerates. Panikkar observed that in order to bridge ideological differences, tolerance is needed. More importantly, he finds a "mystical moment" in the practice of tolerance, which necessarily involves the transformation of the ideas, as well as the person who experiences this transformation of the ideas. In Panikkar's words, this transformation actually "purifies the active agent as well as the passive agent of the tolerance." 48 Panikkar's understanding of the "mystical" does not refer to something "mysterious" but rather, it refers to the very fact that we become what we know. This self-transformation is something that defies logical explanations, or the law of the present cause and effect. The remarkable thing is that we can change, we can mature,
and we may become a more tolerant person. This is a profound mystery.
45 MFH p. 5, emphasis added.
46 MFH p. 100.
47 MFH pp. 4-5; emphasis added.
III. Conclusion
My attempt at the pleasure reading of Chinese and Japanese texts in fact led me to two serious observations. The first point is to do with unique resonance between the Chinese and Japanese poetic traditions. Of course, historically speaking, the Japanese were enriched by the Chinese poetic tradition for over 1500 years. Chinese classics are still taught at middle and high schools in Japan today. I think this kind of "familiarity" created for the Japanese the opportunity to appreciate classical Chinese writings not as literature in "foreign language." For this reason, I find it not accidental that going through the Japanese interpretation of classical Chinese literature actually adds another layer of experiences rather than subtract the richness from it. See how my interpretation of Tao Yuanming's poem may not be just such an example. This is my first observation.
48 MFH p. 23.
My second point is that Panikkar's notions of the "mythos" and the "logos" seem to work very well in uncovering the nature of poetic language. Take life, nature, or language—our experience is comprised of the mythos and the logos. If we were to forget the mythos and only emphasize the "logos" (i.e., the logical, the rational, the calculable), we defeat our own enterprise in the end, as we won't be able to experience reality fully and to realize the "fullness of being."
Already the realm of myth has been dealt with serious blow by the modern natural scientific worldview, and this effect has been translates into our action—in how we objectify nature, how we shamelessly exploit nature, how we manipulate nature and destroy nature for the immediate human gain. We have perhaps already succumbed to the culture of numbers (we reduce everything to numbers), the culture of uation based on efficiency, and the culture of measuring efficiency. Humanity is facing crisis, as much as the climate is threatened, and the health of the planet is questioned.
I wonder if our adopting a less dualistic way of thinking, in which the mythos as well as the logos are cherished, that might open new possibilities of being in the world. We may correct cultural myopia, and restore a healthier balance in our material, mental, and spiritual lives? In this endeavor, "nature" still has the upper hand and guide us and lead us to a saner mode of being in the world. It is time to stop and read more poems and good stories, perhaps.
In this kind of undertaking, I realize that "nature," as the primordial dialogue partner, shares the same abode with the "myth," which Panikkar defined as "the horizon of intelligibility." We can never objectify this horizon, because at the moment we objectify it, it ceases to be a horizon, and a new horizon enfolds us, while we remain unawares.
Abbreviations:
MFH Myth, Faith, and Hermeneutics, Raimon Panikkar, (New York: Paulist Press,1979).
Mizuno Mizuno Yaoko 水野八穂子, ed., Dōgen, Shōbōgenzō,『正法眼蔵』 4 vols.,(Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1990). Volume number is followed by pagenumber(s).
NKZ Nishida Kitarō Zenshū 『西田幾多郎全集』 [Collected works of Nishida Kitarō](Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten 1978-1980); 19 vols. Volume number is followed bypage number(s).
References:
Birch, Cyril. Anthology of Chinese Literature (New York: Grove Press, 1965).
Dōgen 道元. "Genjō kōan" 「現成公案」 in Mizuno Yaoko, ed., Dōgen, Shōbōgenzōin 4 vols, (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1990). "Genjō kōan," in Mizuno, vol. 1.53-61.
"Keisei sanshoku," 「渓声山色」 in Mizuno, vol. 2.107-127.
Hasegawa Kunio 長谷川国雄, ed. Chūgoku no koten meicho, Sōkaisetsu 『中国の古典名著、総解説』(Tokyo: Jiyū Kokumin-sha, 1977).
Iyengar, B. K. S. Light on Yoga (New York: Schocken Books, 1976).
Mori Tetsurō 森哲郎, "Nishida Kitarō ni okeru 'hyōgen' shisō" 「西田幾多郎におけ る表現思想」 [The philosophy of 'expression' in Nishida Kitarō], NihonShisōshi kenkyū 『日本思想史研究』 [Studies in Japanese Philosophy](University of Kyoto) (2019), 15.17.
Nishida Kitarō 西田幾多郎. "Daishinsai no ato ni"「大震災の後に」 [After the Great Earthquake] (1923), NKZ 13.128-129.
Zen no kenkyū 『禅の研究』[An Inquiry into the Good], (1911), NKZ 1.1-200.
Panikkar, Raimon. The Cosmotheandric Experience: Emerging Religious consciousness (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1993).
Myth, Faith, and Hermeneutics (New York: Paulist Press, 1979).