Chuang-tzu

Zhuangzi, (Chinese: “Master Zhuang”)Wade-Giles
romanization Chuang-tzu, original name Zhuang Zhou
(b. c. 369, Meng [now Shangqiu, Henan province],
China—d. 286 bce), the most significant of China’s
early interpreters of Daoism, whose work (Zhuangzi)
is considered one of the definitive texts of Daoism
and is thought to be more comprehensive than the
Daodejing, which is attributed to Laozi, the first
philosopher of Daoism. Zhuangzi’s teachings also
exerted a great influence on the development of
Chinese Buddhism and had considerable effect on
Chinese landscape painting and poetry.
Life
In spite of his importance, details of Zhuangzi’s
life, apart from the many anecdotes about him in the
Zhuangzi itself, are unknown. The “Grand Historian”
of the Han dynasty, Sima Qian (died c. 87 bce),
incorporated in his biographical sketch of Zhuangzi
only the most meagre information. It indicates that
Zhuangzi was a native of the state of Meng, that his
personal name was Zhou, and that he was a minor
official at Qiyuan in his home state. He lived
during the reign of Prince Wei of Chu (died 327 bce)
and was therefore a contemporary of Mencius, an
eminent Confucian scholar known as China’s “Second
Sage.” According to Sima Qian, Zhuangzi’s teachings
were drawn primarily from the sayings of Laozi, but
his perspective was much broader. He used his
literary and philosophical skills to refute the
Confucians and Mohists (followers of Mozi, who
advocated “concern for everyone”).
Zhuangzi is best known through the book that
bears his name, the Zhuangzi, also known as Nanhua
zhenjing (“The Pure Classic of Nanhua”). At about
the turn of the 4th century ce, Guo Xiang, the first
and perhaps the best commentator on the Zhuangzi,
established the work as a primary source for Daoist
thought. It is composed of 33 chapters, and evidence
suggests that there may have been as many as 53
chapters in copies of the book circulated in the 4th
century. It is generally agreed that the first seven
chapters, the “inner books,” are for the most part
from the hand of Zhuangzi himself, whereas the
“outer books” (chapters 8–22) and the miscellany
(chapters 23–33) are largely the product of his
later followers. A vivid description of Zhuangzi’s
character comes from the anecdotes about him in the
book’s later chapters.
Character
Zhuangzi appears in these passages as an
unpredictable and eccentric sage who seems careless
about personal comforts or public esteem. His
clothing is shoddy and patched, and his shoes have
to be tied to his feet with string in order to keep
them from falling apart. Nevertheless, he does not
consider himself to be miserable, only poor. When
his good friend Hui Shi comes to console him upon
the death of his wife, he finds the sage sitting on
a mat, singing and beating on a basin. Hui Shi
reprimands him, pointing out that such behaviour is
improper at the death of someone who has lived and
grown old with him and has borne him children.
When she died, how could I help being affected?
But as I think the matter over, I realize that
originally she had no life; and not only no life,
she had no form; not only no form, she had no vital
energy (qi). In the limbo of existence and
non-existence, there was transformation and the
vital energy emerged. The vital energy was
transformed to be form, form was transformed to
become life, and now birth has transformed to become
death. This is like the rotation of the four
seasons, spring, summer, fall, and winter. Now she
lies asleep in the great house (the cosmos). For me
to go about weeping and wailing would be to show my
ignorance of destiny. Therefore I desist.
When Zhuangzi himself was at the point of death,
his disciples began to talk about an elaborate
burial for him. Zhuangzi immediately stopped the
discussion by declaring that he did not need the
paraphernalia of a great funeral, that nature would
be his inner and outer coffin, the sun and the moon
his jade rings, and the stars and the planets his
jewelry. All creation would make offerings and
escort him. He needed no more. Somewhat taken aback,
his disciples declared that they were afraid that
the crows and the buzzards might eat him. To this
Zhuangzi replied,
Above the ground it’s the crows and the kites who
will eat me; below the ground it’s the worms and the
ants. What prejudice is this, that you wish to take
from the one to give to the other?
Zhuangzi’s eccentricities stem directly from his
understanding of the processional nature of human
experience. Insight for Zhuangzi comes with the
realization that everything in life is both dynamic
and continuous—what he calls dao.
Philosophy
Zhuangzi taught that what can be known or said of
the Dao is not the Dao. It has neither initial
beginning nor final end, nor limitations or
demarcations. Life is the ongoing transformation of
the Dao, in which there is no better or worse, no
good or evil. Things should be allowed to follow
their own course, and men should not value one
situation over another. A truly virtuous man is free
from the bondage of circumstance, personal
attachments, tradition, and the need to reform his
world. Zhuangzi declined an offer to be prime
minister of the state of Chu because he did not want
the entanglements of a court career.
The complete relativity of his perspective is
forcefully expressed in one of the better-known
passages of the Zhuangzi:
Once I, Zhuang Zhou, dreamed that I was a
butterfly and was happy as a butterfly. I was
conscious that I was quite pleased with myself, but
I did not know that I was Zhou. Suddenly I awoke,
and there I was, visibly Zhou. I do not know whether
it was Zhou dreaming that he was a butterfly or the
butterfly dreaming that it was Zhou. Between Zhou
and the butterfly there must be some distinction.
This is called the transformation of things.
The relativity of all experience is in constant
tension in the Zhuangzi with the unity of all
things. When asked where the Dao was, Zhuangzi
replied that it was everywhere. When pushed to be
more specific, he declared that it was in ants and,
still lower, in weeds and potsherds; furthermore, it
was also in excrement and urine. This forceful
statement of the omnipresence of the Dao had its
parallels in later Chinese Buddhism, in which a
similar figure of speech was used to describe the
ever-present Buddha (Buddhist scholars, especially
those of the Chan [Zen] school, also drew heavily on
Zhuangzi’s works). Zhuangzi was par excellence the
philosopher of the unattached man who is at one with
the Dao.
James Hamilton Ware, Jr.