Daodejing
- Oct 26, 2023
- 2 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
★★☆☆☆
After reading my first translation (as the Tao Te Ching by John H. McDonald), I was immediately ready to sink my teeth into others. I soon stumbled across this one at a Books-A-Million while we were waiting for a table for dinner and promptly requested it from the library. My enthusiasm for this particular edition was primarily due to the book’s clean, unadorned design—a sharp contrast to the McDonald edition published by Arcturus that is lamentably bursting at the seams with stock art. At the core of Ziporyn’s Daodejing is the scholarship, as evidenced by the 19-page “A Note on the Translation” that precedes the text. Given the academic rigor, the stage was set for what was certain to be a very thoughtful—and perhaps definitive—translation.
That may be, but it did not work for me. I found it flat and uninspiring, the zest drained from the page—perhaps by the same forces that drove this particular translation or perhaps because I’d revisited the text too soon. I’m so perplexed about my wan response to Ziporyn’s translation that I’m not convinced I haven’t missed something profound. Did I just not “get it”? Maybe. Maybe not. I won’t drag you through the tediousness of side-by-side comparisons but will subject you to as much for one chapter—Chapter 9—to illuminate why the McDonald translation resonated with me while the Ziporyn one did not.
McDonald:
It is easier to carry an empty cup
than one that is filled to the brim.
The sharper the knife
the easier it is to dull.
The more wealth you possess
the harder it is to protect.
Pride brings its own trouble.
When you have accomplished your goal
simply walk away.
This is the pathway to heaven.
Ziporyn:
Better to stop short than to fill up all the way.
A blade polished keen cannot be long preserved.
When gold and jade fill the hall
no one can defend them.
Wealth and rank hoarded with arrogance
call forth their own reproach.
To retreat once the work is done—
that is the course of heaven.
For me, the biggest difference between the two is that the former is personable and instructionable. It’s as if it was being written directly to me as guidance for living the Tao. The latter feels cold and detached, more philosophical perhaps but harder to connect with or find inspiration in. Given that there are, according to Ziporyn, over 500 translations in English alone, it would take a lifetime (or more) to track down and read them all. Though I don’t imagine I’ll find myself so driven, there are worse causes a person can take up, and I will certainly keep trying to find the definitive Tao Te Ching for me.
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