Tao Te Ching The Classic Book of Integrity and The Way

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 TAO TE CHING
A Bantam Book / September 1990

Published simultaneously in hardcover and trade paperback.

Bantam New Age and the accompanying figure design as well as

“the search for meaning, growth and change” are trademarks of
Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing
Group, Inc.

All rights reserved.

Translation copyright © 1990 by Victor H. Mair.
Cover art copyright © 1990 by Dan Heitkamp.
Book design by Maria Carella.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Lao-tzu.
[Tao te ching. English]
Tao te ching : the classic book of integrity and
the way / by Lao Tzu ; translated, annotated, and
with an afterword by Victor H. Mair ; woodcuts by
Dan Heitkamp.
p. cm.
“An entirely new translation based on the
 recently discovered Ma-wang-tui manuscripts.”
Includes bibliographical references.
eISBN: 978-0-307-43463-0
I. Mair, Victor H., 1943- II. Title.
BL1900.L26E5 1990
299′.51482—dc20
90-242
CIP

Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada

Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam

Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the
words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in
U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca
Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York
10036.

v3.1
 FOR DAVE,
who dances with the Tao.
 The supreme perfection of actionlessness
He attains through renunciation.

Bhagavad Gītā, XVIII.49.3–4

While you …
Focus your breath until it is supremely soft,
Can you be like a baby?

Tai …
Chuan ch’i chih jou,
Neng ying-erh hu?
Tao Te Ching, 54.1, 4–5

What is the use of running when we are not on the right way?

Was hilft laufen, wenn man nicht auf den rechten Weg ist?
German proverb
 CONTENTS

Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Preface
Acknowledgment
Note on the Numbering of Chapters
Note on the Use of Pronouns

Integrity

The Way

NOTES AND COMMENTARY

AFTERWORD
Part I: Did Lao Tzu Exist? The Tao Te Ching and Its Oral Background
Part II: The Meaning of the Title and Other Key Words
Part III: Parallels Between Taoism and Yoga
Part IV: Sinological Usages and Principles of Translation
APPENDIX
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
About the Translator
 PREFACE

Next to the Bible and the Bhagavad Gītā, the

Tao Te Ching is the most translated book in the world. Well over a
hundred different renditions of the Taoist classic have been made
into English alone, not to mention the dozens in German, French,
Italian, Dutch, Latin, and other European languages. There are
several reasons for the superabundance of translations. The first is
that the Tao Te Ching is considered to be the fundamental text of
both philosophical and religious Taoism. Indeed, the Tao, or Way,
which is at the heart of the Tao Te Ching, is also the centerpiece of
all Chinese religion and thought. Naturally, different schools and
sects bring somewhat different slants to the Tao, but all subscribe to
the notion that there is a single, overarching Way that encompasses
everything in the universe. As such, the Tao Te Ching shares crucial
points of similarity with other major religious scriptures the world
over.
The second reason for the popularity of the Tao Te Ching is its
brevity. There are few bona fide classics that are so short, yet so
packed with food for thought. One can read and reread the Tao Te
Ching scores of times without exhausting the insights it offers.
The third aspect that accounts for the wide repute of the Tao Te
Ching is its deceptive simplicity: In the words of the author himself,
it is supposedly “very easy to understand,” when actually it is quite
difficult to comprehend fully. Paradox is the essence of the Tao Te
Ching, so much so that even scholars with a solid grounding in
classical Chinese cannot be sure they have grasped what the Old
Master is really saying in his pithy maxims. For this reason, I vowed
two decades ago that I would never attempt to translate the Tao Te
Ching. However, an unexpected event forced me to recant: The
recent discovery of two ancient manuscripts in China made it
possible to produce a totally new translation of the Tao Te Ching far
more accurate and reliable than any published previously. These
manuscripts are at least a half a millennium older than commonly
translated versions.
This translation of the Tao Te Ching is based wholly on these
newfound manuscripts. Their availability has made it possible to
strip away the distortions and obfuscations of a tradition that has
striven for two millennia to “improve” the text with commentaries
and interpretations more amenable to various religious,
philosophical, and political persuasions. And they have provided me
with the means to make the translation in this book significantly
different from all other previously existing translations.
In late 1973, when Chinese archaeologists working at Ma-wang-
tui, in central China about a hundred miles south of the Yangtze
River, unearthed two silk manuscripts of the Tao Te Ching, scholars
of ancient China around the world were overjoyed. Forty-nine other
important items, including the earliest extant version of the Book of
Changes, were also found. It will be many years before sinologists
fully absorb the wealth of new materials made available by the Ma-
wang-tui manuscript finds, but we are already beginning to reap
important benefits.
By relying on the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts for the present
translation of the Tao Te Ching, I have solved a number of problems
that have puzzled interpreters of the text for centuries. For example,
line 8 of chapter 77 reads “To die but not be forgotten.…” In
previously available editions of the Tao Te Ching, this read “To die
but not perish …,” which does not really make sense even in a
religious Taoist context. There are dozens of such instances where
the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts are much more intelligible than the
old standard editions, which are the basis of almost all other
translations. I have pointed out several of these cases in the Notes.
The Ma-wang-tui manuscripts have also enabled me to make
breakthroughs in determining the origin and composition of the
text. In the Afterword and in my translation, I view the core of the
Tao Te Ching, as having derived from oral tradition rather than from
a single author. This characteristic is obscured by the explanatory
comments in all other versions of the text and even more frequently
by the use of misleading Chinese characters that has resulted from
phonological change over the course of many centuries. Since the
Ma-wang-tui manuscripts are much nearer to the date of the
composition of the original Tao Te Ching, it is natural that they
preserve more faithfully many of the features of the oral wisdom on
which it was based.
Working on the relatively unstudied Ma-wang-tui manuscripts is
more difficult than resorting to the ready solutions of the standard
editions, which have been repeatedly commented upon and
translated. It is also much more inspiring to come to grips with the
Ma-wang-tui materials than to rehash the standard version yet
again. One is conscious of being in the presence of manuscripts
written close to the time when the Tao Te Ching crystallized as the
foundation of both religious and philosophical Taoism. Without the
discovery of the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts, I would never have been
prompted to translate the Tao Te Ching; with them, reinterpreting
the Tao Te Ching has become a stimulating challenge.
Once I assumed the task of creating an entirely fresh translation of
the Tao Te Ching, I became preoccupied with endless details, such as
how to convey the meaning of the second word in the title. I spent
two full months trying to arrive at a satisfactory translation of te.
Walking through the woods, riding on the train, buying groceries,
chopping wood—the elusive notion of te was always on my mind.
The final choice of “integrity” is based on a thorough etymological
study of the word, together with a careful consideration of each of
its forty-four occurrences in the text. In certain instances perhaps
another word such as “self,” “character,” “personality,” “virtue,”
“charisma,” or “power” might have been more befitting. But
“integrity” is the only word that seems plausible throughout. By
“integrity,” I mean the totality of an individual including his or her
moral stance, whether good or bad.
We shall return to explore this concept in much greater depth in
Part II of the Afterword, but I should like to add here that the Ma-
wang-tui manuscripts were instrumental in helping me decide upon
“integrity” as the right translation for te in the Tao Te Ching. In the
first place, the archaic forms of the Chinese character for te used in
the manuscripts caused me to realize that this term signified the
holistic inner quality or character of a person. The basic components
of the Chinese graph at the time of the writing of the Tao Te Ching
were an eye looking straight ahead, and the heart, and a sign for
movement or behavior. Visually, these components are much clearer
on the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts than they are in later stylized forms
of the character for te, which become far more abstract and
arbitrary. Secondly, several of the previously unknown texts among
the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts, especially those dealing with
metaphysical questions, also contain elaborate discussions of te.
These, too, served to sharpen my appreciation of te as it was used in
the intellectual milieu in which the Tao Te Ching took shape.
Whether seeking the right English word for te or coping with
unusual Chinese graphs that were not to be found in any dictionary,
my paramount guide has been historical linguistics. Only by the
most rigorous application of this discipline can we hope to come
close to a full understanding of ancient texts. At the same time I also
sought inspiration from the muse so as not to betray the poetic
beauty of the Tao Te Ching. My aim has been to create an authentic
English version of the Tao Te Ching that is both eminently readable
and sinologically precise. Because the original is in many places
maddeningly obscure and frustratingly ambiguous, this was no
mean task. Nonetheless, I am satisfied that the final result has been
worth all the effort and that the present rendition comes closer than
any other to affording someone who knows no classical Chinese the
thought-provoking, mind-bending experience of reading the
original.
An unusual feature of the present translation is its format. The
layout of the words on the page is very carefully calculated to
reflect the linguistic structure of the classical Chinese text. By
paying attention to the arrangement of the words of the translation,
the reader will be able to discern various grammatical, syntactical,
and stylistic features of the original. Placement of particles,
parallelism, antithesis, and so forth are all more or less evident in
the physical appearance of the translation. Most, but not all, of the
Tao Te Ching may be divided into rhymed sections. The rhyme
schemes, in turn, fall into many different categories. Only
occasionally do I employ rhyme in the translation, instead
approximating its effects for the modern American reader by such
devices as consonance, assonance, and other familiar poetic
techniques.
The primary duty of the translator is to convey, as nearly as
possible, a semblance of the original text in his or her own
language. To do so, one must pay attention to form, content, style,
diction, and sound. It is not enough merely to transfer the meaning
of the original text; one also needs to replicate its effects. If a text is
somewhat rough in places, one should resist the temptation to
ameliorate it; if it is lyrical, one’s own verse should sing. Because of
the history of its composition, the style of the Tao Te Ching varies
greatly. I have striven to recreate in my own rendition the various
voices we hear speaking out of the past—the Taoist mystic, the
political strategist, the Utopian architect, the anti-Confucian
philosopher, the clairvoyant poet, the meditative Yogin. If the
reader is able to hear with any degree of fidelity more than one of
the strains in this thought-provoking concertstück, my efforts will
have been amply rewarded.
In the Afterword I again endeavor to break virgin territory. The
first part shows how the Tao Te Ching represents the accumulated
wisdom of centuries, not the enterprise of one author. As such, the
real title of this book should be something like Sayings of the Old
Masters. For the sake of convenience and familiarity, nonetheless, I
continue to refer to it as the Tao Te Ching. The Afterword provides
an etymological examination of the three words that make up the
customary title of the book, together with explanations of the name
of the presumed author and several other key terms.
Another radical departure from the past is my recognition of the
Tao Te Ching’s intimate relationship to that other well-known
oriental classic the Bhagavad Gītā. Having read both of them in their
original languages repeatedly and attentively over the past two
decades, I have come to believe that they are connected in an
essential way. In the Afterword and Notes I have also discussed
many similarities between Indian Yoga and Chinese Taoism, schools
of religion and philosophy with which both books are closely
associated.
At present there are only three conceivable explanations for how
this relationship could have developed: (1) China borrowed the
Yogic system and its attendant practices from India; (2) India
borrowed Taoism and its attendant practices from China; (3) both
India and China were the recipients of inspiration from a third
source. Much research remains to be done, of course, before a
conclusive answer can be given. We must also await the results of
more thorough archaeological excavations, particularly in Sinkiang
(the Chinese part of Central Asia), through which the famous silk
roads passed, and along the southeast coast of China, where ships
from India and Arabia regularly arrived. Nonetheless, presently
available data indicate an Indian priority that can be traced back to
at least the beginning of the first millennium B.C.
It is ultimately of little consequence whether Taoism is indebted
to Yoga or Yoga to Taoism. What really matters is that they are both
unique manifestations of a common human heritage. That is the
light in which I have endeavored to view them in this little volume.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT

I would like to thank my editor, Linda Loewenthal, for managing to

be both gentle and firm in helping me to make this book more
accessible to the people for whom it was written.
NOTE ON THE
NUMBERING OF CHAPTERS

The numbers running consecutively from 1 to 81 follow the

sequence of the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts. The numbers in
parentheses indicate the corresponding chapters of the previous
standard text.
NOTE ON THE
USE OF PRONOUNS

The third person pronoun is often omitted in classical Chinese, but

even when it is explicitly stated, rarely is the sense of gender
implied. The translator not only has to supply a subject to satisfy the
requirements of English grammar, but is forced to decide in each
instance whether “he,” “she,” or “it” is more appropriate. To avoid
overemphasis on the masculine, I have used impersonal or feminine
pronouns for the third person whenever possible. When referring to
the “sage king,” however, I have had to use the masculine form
because it is a simple fact of history that in ancient Chinese society
this term always referred to men.