In the barren northland there is a dark ocean, called the Pool of Heaven. There is a fish there several thousand miles across with a length that is as yet unknown named Kun. There’s a bird there named Peng with a back like Mt. Tai and wings like clouds draped across the heavens. Whorling upward, he ascends ninety thousand miles, breaking through the clouds and bearing the blue of the sky on his back, and then heads south, finally arriving at the Southern Oblivion. The quail laughs at him, saying, “Where does he think he’s going? I leap into the air with all my might, but before I get farther than a few yards I drop to the ground. My twittering and fluttering between the bushes and branches is the utmost form of flying! So where does he think he’s going?” Such is the difference between the large and the small.
Zhuangzi – Wandering Far and Unfettered (trans. Brook Ziporyn)
If Zhuangzi has any overarching proposal, then arguably “free and easy wandering” (Xiaoyaoyou) might be at the heart of it. This is his vision, not simply of meandering without destination, carefree in the forest or the mountains (although it might well include that), but a relationship or interface with life where we might relax our dependency on circumstances proceeding in a particular way and are thereby better able to enjoy and flourish fully within the givens of our lives. Fortunately, quite a few of the ‘givens’ turn out to be ‘takens’ which constrain us needlessly. Our assumptions about scale and the valuations that follow from these are, Zhuangzi suggests, perhaps one such a contingency which can profitably be undermined. As small mountaineers we can only concur, having tasted the visceral experience of freedom, flexibility and renewed wonder that imaginative adventures in miniature affords us.
The opening tale of the text is itself a glorious exploration of relative size and scale. Sweeping us dramatically between the minute and the vast, the repeated zooming in and out provides a warm-up routine for our imaginations, a loosening of our hardened categories in preparation for the numerous transformations we will encounter in the pages that follow. A giant fish named ‘Kun’ (which also translates as a tiny fish roe) transforms into the gigantic bird ‘Peng’ who sets out on his epic journey through the infinite blue yonder, from the Northern to the Southern Oblivion. On the ground we find the perspective of the tiniest of birds who scoff at the absurdity of Peng’s flight, so far beyond their ken are his endeavours. Why fly thousands of miles at a stretch when all they need do is flit from branch to branch? Isn’t their mode of travel clearly superior to Peng’s? From Peng’s elevated view point these tiny birds are insignificant specs, but from the perspective of ‘heaven’ Peng himself is nothing more than a swirling mote of dust.
By turns we are invited to imaginatively observe reality from the perspective of the huge being then the minute; to notice just how different they and their activities are and yet how from a still ‘higher’ perspective – what Zhuangzi later calls the ‘vastest arrangement’, they are to all intents and purposes identical. In what way identical? In necessarily having a perspective; in being sufficient unto their own nature; in precisely occupying the position that they inhabit; in their innate freedom to wander within their particular givens.
Commentating on this passage Guo Xiang (252-312 CE) beautifully summarises thus:
“Though some are larger and some are smaller, every being without exception is released into the range of its own spontaneous attainments, so that each being relies on its own innate character, each deed exactly matching its own capabilities. Since each fits perfectly into precisely the position it occupies, all are equally far-reaching and unfettered. How could any one be superior to any other?”
Zhuangzi then develops and expands on the theme. We encounter further juxtapositions, this time of duration: ‘the morning mushroom [who] knows nothing of the noontide; the winter cicada [who] knows nothing of the spring and autumn” contrasted with ‘Mingling’ a mighty tree for whom “five hundred years is a single spring and another five hundred years is a single autumn”. There is undeniably a sense in which Zhuangzi throughout the text, employs vastness as a metaphor for his own philosophy which might barely be cognizable by ‘nook and corner’ scholars preoccupied with hair-splitting minutia. But ultimately even this distinction is collapsed in his ‘equalizing assessment of things’.
As status obsessed primates, evolved to frequently operate in an environment where size certainly does matter, humans have in general, developed an inordinate respect for the physically large and a corresponding contempt for the diminutive. So widespread is this tendency that I’m sure I need not furnish you with examples. This is all very well and appropriate as far as it goes: we needs must make provisional evaluations based on such properties when navigating threats or opportunities. But ‘taking our minds as our teacher’ we begin to apply these valuations far beyond their applicability, leading to all kinds of trouble and estranging us from our capacity to perceive the world with the open, freshness that we delighted in as children.
Playfully, imaginatively inhabiting these differing perspectives while noticing what unites them, begins to perturb our familiar, cherished certainties, demands and value judgements offering an inkling of what it might mean to wander freely between them, without depending on anything being a particular way, taking a fixed form or carrying a definite unchanging value. Ultimately the suggestion is that such an interface may prove to be better suited to a constantly changing and transforming self and world. This isn’t stated as ‘Truth’ or dogma – that would of course undermine the whole essence of this message – we are merely invited to play with this, to discover for ourselves whether this is a helpful and life enhancing mode of being in the world.
In the same way that the Dao is ‘nameless’ I find that ‘interpreting’ Zhuangzi is a personal (and unique) effort. My own ‘path’ on this looks/feels/senses different – all I’m saying is that I think each person’s interpretation is their ‘relationship’ with this text and that’s a fine/fulfilling thing. There’s nothing to fear in wandering one’s own ‘version’ of a path. After all, each perspective is unique (while still being part of the whole).
In response then, to yours – I understand it as ‘perspective (offers) everything’ (rather perhaps than ‘is’ which might seem a trite observation) Certainly, to read this as a discourse on perspective offers much scope and content for reflection.
For me, I suppose when I think about perspective, I’m gripped by thinking about where we/I place ourselves in this perspective, and (for me) embodying Dao roots (me) firmly within the whole picture rather than as an observer ‘from’ any perspective. I am ‘part’ of the picture, perhaps part of the perspective/s. How does that relate to Kun and Peng? Well, I wonder whether they are goblet words? My own interpretation/investigations into this part of the text have led me down paths of (perhaps) etymology and of flexibility. Trying to discern which (character) Kun or Peng we are talking of entrances me. I’ve worked on interpretations which use this flexibility to consider what kind of ‘code’ might be offered by the characters (language over time). I’m currently exploring the notion of the text as a code, if you will, dressed up in a narrative. In this respect I think I may be quoting from Kuang-Ming Wu when I observe ‘ Non being is a vast sky in which we can receive everything in perspective’.
My most recent interpretation (this month) I called ‘riff on Kun’ (and it has shades of the opening of Noggin the Nog – https://youtu.be/Jisqle37uWI and it is simply:
In the Northern Darkness (sky – up there from earth) there is a vast unknown. Transformation occurs. Yin Transforms to Yang and the perspective shifts to the Southern Darkness (pond – down there from earth).
As you can see that’s travelled quite a long way from standard textual translation… and yet…
Well, just don’t ask me to ‘show my workings’ because they are very extensive and as I reflect on them so they change… perhaps speaking to the very perspective/transformation of the opening lines themselves. Or not.
Over to you – dialogue – the meeting place of perspectives?
White Daffodil –
Thank you for your comment – the first of many I hope!
I quite agree about personal interpretations. It’s such a foundational principle for me that I can almost take it for granted and forget that it does need to be emphasised from time to time lest any reader should think I was making any kind of truth claims or seeking to present myself as an ‘authority’. Nothing could be further from it. Fortunately (in my view!) the Zhuangzi text deliberately proofs itself quite beautifully (and successfully) against any attempts to pin it down to a specifiable meaning that can be fixed or dogmatised (not that this has prevented those of a religious bent from having a damn good try!) This is good news for those of us who like to play – we know it’s a personal response, (what else could it be?) and we’re more than content with that. Clearly this doesn’t license any old interpretation: an imposition is not a response.
I like your yin/yang interpretation. That seems very pertinent to me. Luckily again for us I feel the text is overdetermined and invites readings at multiple levels and through different if related lenses. So I don’t think there is any conflict here. The reciprocal, co-constitutive relationship between yin and yang surely reflects / is analogous to the relationship between great and small.
In regards to not having a perspective or embodying all perspectives – that is not something I have experienced or can imagine so I can’t really comment. I’ve heard plenty of people describe something similar so perhaps I may simply be a ‘victim of heaven’ in this regard. Certainly the Zhuangzian ‘sage’ is characterised as roaming ‘beyond the lines’ or abiding at the centre of the heavenly potter’s wheel, or harmonising the myriad things or whatever. I’ve tended to understand this in practice as having no FIXED identity or perspective rather than having none or all at once and thus recognising that there is nothing other than perspectives. In this way they are different and equalised. Two roads are walked. This would preclude the absolute transcendence of perspective but again this may be an interpretation that suits me and so is ‘self-right’. I’m interested to hear more of your experience.
I didn’t see Noggin the Nog coming! I’m a child of the 70’s so naturally Oliver Postgate is a total legend for me! I think we need an animated Zhuangzi in the style of Noggin the Nog! Perhaps the AI could arrange this for us? Hahaha!