20 Feb 2024

As I was doing some research for a longer post I’ve been working on I remembered (or was reminded of) a little passage in the Zhuangzi and made a Mastodon post about it. The passage is from the end of chapter 7 and is the conclusion to a longer story:

After this, Lieh Tzu concluded that he had never really begun to learn anything. He went home and for three years did not go out. He replaced his wife at the stove, fed the pigs as though he were feeding people, and showed no preferences in the things he did. He got rid of the carving and polishing and returned to plainness, letting his body stand alone like a clod. In the midst of entanglement he remained sealed, and in this oneness he ended his life.

Zhuangzi, Chapter 7, Watson trans.

The longer piece I’ve been working on concerns fatherhood, caregiving, masculinity, embodiment, etc., so when I remembered this passage I reread it with those themes fresh in my mind.

It seems to me that this brief passage offers, very succinctly, a model for a healthier masculinity. I, only somewhat jokingly, summarized this vision in my post thusly:

  • give up learning or increasing knowledge
  • stay home
  • cook all the food and do all the chores
  • extend personhood to all things
  • be flexible and yielding in all thing
  • become dull and plain and covered in dirt

Thinking about it more I think I would also add something about remaining sealed in the midst of entanglement, which to me implies or assumes that dependence and relationality are fundamental or constitutive of life and therefore inescapable, but the response to this entanglement is to remain sealed, that is, not broken or punctured. Another way to put it might be that amidst the chaos of relationality and entanglement you will become unsealed if you do not give up trying to increase your knowledge, are not flexible and yielding, etc. etc.

A different translation offers a complimentary reading:

That was when Liezi realized he had not yet begun to learn. He returned to his home and did not emerge for three years, cooking for his wife, feeding the pigs as if he were serving guests, remaining remote from all endeavors and letting all the chiseled carvings of his character return to an unhewn blockishness. Solitary like a clump of soil, he stood his physical form up on the earth, a mass of chaos and confusion. And that is how he remained to the end of his days.

Zhuangzi, Ziporyn trans.

This translation suggests that the chaos and confusion were his permanent state after he gave up increasing knowledge and when he took on a more domestic role. I don’t think, however, that this was a bad thing, because earlier in the Inner Chapters, chapter 2 specifically, Zhuangzi says:

Thus the Radiance of Drift and Doubt is the sage’s only map. He deploys no single definition of what is right, but instead entrusts it to the everyday function of each thing.

Zhuangzi, Ziporyn trans.

and a little later in the same chapter:

Hence when understanding comes to a stop at what it does not understand, when consciousness comes to rest there where it has no consciousness, it has arrived at the utmost. the demonstration that uses no words, the Course that gives no guidance, the Course that is not a course—who “understands” these things, what could know them? If there is some kind of knowing of them, it could only be what we might call the Heavenly Reservoir: poured into without ever getting full, ladled out of without ever running out, ever not-knowing its own source. This is called the Shadowy Splendor.

Zhuangzi, Ziporyn trans.

So Liezi’s state of unhewn blockishness and chaos and confusion were precisely what was described earlier in the text as the only map for a sage. Combining these two translations and their slightly different readings might result in a slightly amended summary, something like:

  • give up learning or increasing knowledge
  • stay home
  • cook all the food and do all the chores
  • extend personhood to all things
  • be flexible and yielding in all thing
  • become dull and plain and covered in dirt
  • pour yourself out without becoming empty
  • let the chaos and confusion be your guide

Two more closing observations. As Ziporyn notes, the title of Chapter 7 can be translated differently depending on how you read the characters. He suggests it is usually translated into something like, “Responses to Emperors and Sovereigns.” Watson translates it as “Fit for Emperors and Kings,” for example. He translates it as, “Sovereign Responses for Ruling Powers,” because he interprets the original as a sort of pun or play on words/characters (something very in character for Zhuangzi). He further notes,

[Chapter 7] consists of the kind of responses to questions about ruling that show real sovereignty, or the best of all ways to respond to rulers. These responses are suitable for rulers both in the sense of suitable for rulers to use and suitable to use in dealing with rulers and ruling.

Zhuangzi, Chapter 7, Ziporyn trans.

It seems fairly radical to me that Liezi’s domestic life, as described by Zhuangzi, ends up being the penultimate word on how to deal with rulers and ruling. The ideas I grew up with concerning how to “rule” one’s household and who was the “ruler” in said household (reinforced in many ways, media, religion, etc.) are very, very different from the image Zhuangzi paints. Admittedly, it is anachronistic to compare ruling an American suburban house to ruling a kingdom in Warring States China, but I think what Zhuangzi was advocating for is equally extreme and uncommon for the time.

Because I’m reading (into) this passage alongside my own life I can’t help but muse about the very last passage of chapter 7 (and the end to the whole of the Inner Chapters) and how it relates to my own experiences, as different as they are from that world. The last narrative, immediately after the conclusion to Liezi’s story, concerns Chaotic Blob:

The emperor of the southern sea was called Swoosh. The emperor of the northern sea was called Oblivion. The emperor of the middle was called Chaotic Blob. Swoosh and Oblivion would sometimes meet in the territory of Chaotic Blob, who always waited on them quite well. They decided to repay Chaotic Blob for such bounteous virtue. “All men have seven holes in them, by means of which they see, hear, eat, and breathe,” they said. “But this one alone has none. Let’s drill him some.” So every day they drilled another hole.

Seven days later, Chaotic Blob was dead.

Zhuangzi, Chapter 7, Ziporyn trans.

If I continue with my interpretation that Liezi’s sagely way of living (at least at the end of the Inner Chapters) is a good model for being a parent or caregiver then this story about Chaotic Blob seems to me to be a cautionary tale, what not to do when caring for someone—forcefully and violently transforming another so they adhere to certain criteria and expectations; making them in our own image. One of the themes of the entire Inner Chapters is the proliferation of courses (daos)—not just that there are multiple courses, ways, but that the multiplicity of courses generates more and more courses that constantly shift and transform endlessly. Insisting on one way over all others, literally drilling it into another, proves deadly.

Lastly, when considering the gendered aspect of caring for another, especially children, it is very interesting to note that in this passage where Liezi takes the place of his wife at the stove there is a strong resonance with several passages from the Daodejing that praise the female energies in the universe over the male energies—more than just praise, one is directed to follow the female, to embody the female. For example:

28

Knowing man
and staying woman,
be the riverbed of the world

Ursula Le Guin trans.

6

The valley spirit never dies –
it is called “the mysterious female”;
The gate of the mysterious female
is called “the root of heaven and earth.”
Gossamer it is,
seemingly insubstantial,
yet never consumed through use.

Victor Mair trans.

10

In opening and closing the gates of Heaven—can you play the part of the female?

Robert Henricks trans.

There is a sequence of chapters in the Daodejing that I think compliment the Liezi passage in chapter 7 of the Zhuangzi, advocating for nearly identical virtues practices, and when taken together give a compelling account of how to care:

6
The valley spirit never dies;
We call it the mysterious female.
The gates of the mysterious female—
These we call the roots of Heaven and Earth.
Subtle yet everlasting! It seems to exist.
In being used, it is not exhausted.

7
Heaven endures; Earth lasts a long time.
The reason why Heaven and Earth can endure and last a long time—
Is that they do not live for themselves.
Therefore they can long endure.

Therefore the Sage:
Puts himself in the background yet finds himself in the foreground;
Puts self-concern out of [his mind], yet finds self-concern in the fore;
Puts self-concern out of [his mind], yet finds that his self-concern is preserved.
Is it not because he has no self-interest,
That he is therefore able to realize his self-interest?

8
The highest good is like water;
Water is good at benefiting the ten thousand things and yet it [does not] compete [with them].
It dwells in places the masses of people detest,
Therefore it is close to the Way.

In dwelling, the good thing is the land;
In the mind, the good thing is depth;
In giving, the good thing is [being like] Heaven;
In speaking, the good thing is sincerity;
In governing, the good thing is order;
In affairs, the good thing is ability;
In activity, the good thing is timeliness.

It is only because it does not compete, that therefore it is without fault.

9
To hold it upright and fill it,
Is not so good as stopping [in time].
When you pound it out and give it a point,
It won’t be preserved very long.
When gold and jade fill your rooms,
You’ll never be able to protect them.
Arrogance and pride with wealth and rank,
On their own bring on disaster.
When the deed is accomplished you retire;
Such is Heaven’s Way!

10
In nourishing the soul and embracing the One—can you do it without letting them leave?
In concentrating your breath and making it soft—can you [make it like that of] a child?
In cultivating and cleaning your profound mirror—can you do it so that it has no blemish?
In loving the people and giving life to the state—can you do it without using knowledge?
In opening and closing the gates of Heaven—can you play the part of the female?
In understanding all within the four reaches—can you do it without using knowledge?

Give birth to them and nourish them.
Give birth to them but don’t try to own them;
Help them to grow but don’t rule them.
This is called Profound Virtue.

Daodejing, Henricks trans.

coda: I just had a thought about the whole of the Inner Chapters. While it is foolish to try to find anything like a narrative arc in the Zhuangzi, it is really interesting to note that the first chapter begins with what many interpret as a critical statement about Liezi:

Lieh Tzu could ride the wind and go soaring around with cool and breezy skill, but after fifteen days he came back to earth. As far as the search for good fortune went, he didn’t fret and worry. He escaped the trouble of walking, but he still had to depend on something to get around. If he had only mounted on the truth of Heaven and Earth, ridden the changes of the six breaths, and thus wandered through the boundless, then what would he have had to depend on?

Therefore I say, the Perfect Man has no self; the Holy Man has no merit; the Sage has no fame.

Zhuangzi, Chapter 1, Watson, trans.

and yet by the end of the Inner Chapters Liezi seems to have become the model with no self, no merit, no fame:

After this, Lieh Tzu concluded that he had never really begun to learn anything. He went home and for three years did not go out. He replaced his wife at the stove, fed the pigs as though he were feeding people, and showed no preferences in the things he did. He got rid of the carving and polishing and returned to plainness, letting his body stand alone like a clod. In the midst of entanglement he remained sealed, and in this oneness he ended his life.

Do not be an embodier of fame; do not be a storehouse of schemes; do not be an undertaker of projects; do not be a proprietor of wisdom. Embody to the fullest what has no end and wander where there is no trail. Hold on to all that you have received from Heaven but do not think you have gotten anything. Be empty, that is all. The Perfect Man uses his mind like a mirror—going after nothing, welcoming nothing, responding but not storing. Therefore he can win out over things and not hurt himself.

Zhuangzi, Chapter 7, Watson trans.

That last paragraph immediately follows the end of the Leizi story I began this post with. I can’t help but notice the symmetry and parallelism in those two passages. It seems to me that the path of the sage looks just like caregiving; the model caregiver is a sage.

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