There is probably no conflict that has been written about more than the U.S. Civil War. This is both due to the large audience for such works and the large number of amateur historians who are able to find publishers for their research. Such research usually focuses narrowly on a subject that is glossed over or even completely ignored by more general, popular works. The best of this work is based on local historical archives and other primary sources and casts the war or events in the war in a new and valuable light. The worst of it is highly derivative and contributes little to what is already known about the war. Often, these works detail events that provide no help in gaining a deeper understanding of the significance of the war. Sadly, James Knight's short book The Battle of Pea Ridge falls more in the latter category than the former.
The Battle of Pea Ridge is precisely what the title suggests: a blow by blow (or movement by movement) account of the battle between Earl Van Dorn's Confederate army and Samuel R. Curtis's Union army. It is mostly workman-like recounting of the events of the battle, though the presentation is sometimes disjointed and the writing is at best journalistic. It will be of interest to amateur military historians, but more expert historians might be disappointed. Its end notes indicate that it owes a great deal to William Shea and Earl Hess's book Pea Ridge (Chapel Hill, N.C.: UNC Press, 1992) and The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series 1, Volume 8 (Washington D.C.: GPO, 1880-1901).
Knight rightly recognizes that the battle is of much greater significance than it is commonly accorded, but it is a shame that he did not do more to place the battle in its broader social and political context.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
The Information Diet: A Case for Conscious Consumption / Clay A. Johnson -- Sebastopol, Cal.: O'Reilly Media, Inc., 2012
Quite a number of books have been published in response to the explosion of digital information and the technology that delivers it. Many of the works are breathless panegyrics. Others are panicky jeremiads. This should come as no surprise. Digital and internet technology has transformed our lives in unexpected ways and promises to continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Consequently, assessing the opportunities and dangers is no easy task, making it easy to predict both best case and worst case scenarios for the future.
Clay Johnson's The Information Diet is neither a best nor worst case assessment of our information future. His general disposition is that our social problems can often be addressed by technical solutions and as the founder of Blue State Digital and a former director of the Sunlight Foundation. So one might expect his leanings would be toward panegyrics. Nonetheless, the overall tone of his book is cautionary. Johnson has become concerned that far from solving our social problems, current information and internet technology is filling our information diets with the equivalent of junk food and poses a significant threat to the rational formation of public policy. Johnson is not only concerned about the individual's epistemic health, he is concerned about the effects that widespread "information obesity" is having and will have on society as a whole.
Much of Johnson's work is not particularly ground breaking. His analogy between information and food diets is perhaps the most novel feature of the work. The two critiques that most inform Johnson are by Nicholas Carr and Eli Pariser. Carr argues that the internet has come to be a complex distraction machine, designed to maximize the number of pages that we view. This has grave psychological consequences for our ability to concentrate, engage in deep, thoughtful reading, and remember what it is that we have read. Eli Pariser argues that the personalization of search results on the internet results in your receiving only information with which you agree, doing nothing more than confirming your previously held views. For politics, this means that people of with differing views are becoming more deeply convinced that their views are well-substantiated. Consequently, our ability to carry on reasonable dialogs with those who hold different views from us is declining.
Johnson is clearly sympathetic to Pariser's concerns. His attitudes toward Carr's thesis is, however, more complicated. Johnson writes, "the Internet is not some kind of meta bogey man that's sneaking into Mr. Carr's room while he sleeps and rewiring his brain." He also suggests that there is a "subtext" to Carr's thesis that "there may be some sort of corporate conspiracy to try to...'dumb us down.'" Having read Carr's recent book The Shallows, I am amazed that Johnson would find a conspiracy subtext in it. Furthermore, suggesting that Carr sees the Internet as a "meta bogey man" (whatever that might be) trivializes his arguments.
Johnson's critique of Carr appears to be founded on the power a person's will. He writes, "Blaming a medium or its creators for changing our minds and habits is like blaming food for making us fat." Such a view, "wrongly take[s] free will and choice out of the equation." For Johnson, the problem arises because we choose specific friends in an online social network, we choose to follow specific links, and we choose to spend a specific amount of time "consuming" specific information. Apparently for Johnson, only we are to blame for the changes we experience as we live our lives, more and more, in front of computer screens.
It is strange, though, that the great bulk of Johnson's book describes the powerful influences that the internet has on shaping all of these behaviors. One is left with the sense that Johnson has internalized Carr's criticism, but is unwilling to acknowledge it. To avoid doing so, he constructs a straw argument to attack and appeals to a dubious metaphysical dogma about free will.
His metaphysics does, however, underwrite the practical point of his book: to encourage us to take responsibility for the information we acquire. He writes, "This book's agenda is to help people make more sense of the world around them by encouraging them to tune into things that matter most and to tune out things that make them sick." This is unquestionably a worthy agenda. The amount of trivia that pours out of the internet when you dare to expose yourself to it is breathtaking.
Johnson's recommendations for tuning into the stuff that matters and tuning out the trivia is technological. For example, he recommends various filters and email preference settings that will reduce unwanted information. He recommends software that will show you the amount of time you spend at various kinds of Web sites and techniques for developing your ability to concentrate. All of his suggestions are fine as far as they go, but are hardly likely to achieve great success. The internet is insidious and seductive. Most of all, it is constructed to serve a profit motive which will not succeed unless most people participate in what it is doing to us. When information becomes the lure for commerce, widespread information obesity will naturally follow.
In general, Johnson's The Information Diet underestimates the power of the structural forces driving the internet and overestimates the power of individuals to resist its damaging force. Realistically, we may have only two choices: to embrace the brave new world of the digital information or to create a nearly internet-free counterculture that values face-to-face social interactions over virtual ones and makes limited forays into the virtual world for only specific and limited purposes.
Clay Johnson's The Information Diet is neither a best nor worst case assessment of our information future. His general disposition is that our social problems can often be addressed by technical solutions and as the founder of Blue State Digital and a former director of the Sunlight Foundation. So one might expect his leanings would be toward panegyrics. Nonetheless, the overall tone of his book is cautionary. Johnson has become concerned that far from solving our social problems, current information and internet technology is filling our information diets with the equivalent of junk food and poses a significant threat to the rational formation of public policy. Johnson is not only concerned about the individual's epistemic health, he is concerned about the effects that widespread "information obesity" is having and will have on society as a whole.
Much of Johnson's work is not particularly ground breaking. His analogy between information and food diets is perhaps the most novel feature of the work. The two critiques that most inform Johnson are by Nicholas Carr and Eli Pariser. Carr argues that the internet has come to be a complex distraction machine, designed to maximize the number of pages that we view. This has grave psychological consequences for our ability to concentrate, engage in deep, thoughtful reading, and remember what it is that we have read. Eli Pariser argues that the personalization of search results on the internet results in your receiving only information with which you agree, doing nothing more than confirming your previously held views. For politics, this means that people of with differing views are becoming more deeply convinced that their views are well-substantiated. Consequently, our ability to carry on reasonable dialogs with those who hold different views from us is declining.
Johnson is clearly sympathetic to Pariser's concerns. His attitudes toward Carr's thesis is, however, more complicated. Johnson writes, "the Internet is not some kind of meta bogey man that's sneaking into Mr. Carr's room while he sleeps and rewiring his brain." He also suggests that there is a "subtext" to Carr's thesis that "there may be some sort of corporate conspiracy to try to...'dumb us down.'" Having read Carr's recent book The Shallows, I am amazed that Johnson would find a conspiracy subtext in it. Furthermore, suggesting that Carr sees the Internet as a "meta bogey man" (whatever that might be) trivializes his arguments.
Johnson's critique of Carr appears to be founded on the power a person's will. He writes, "Blaming a medium or its creators for changing our minds and habits is like blaming food for making us fat." Such a view, "wrongly take[s] free will and choice out of the equation." For Johnson, the problem arises because we choose specific friends in an online social network, we choose to follow specific links, and we choose to spend a specific amount of time "consuming" specific information. Apparently for Johnson, only we are to blame for the changes we experience as we live our lives, more and more, in front of computer screens.
It is strange, though, that the great bulk of Johnson's book describes the powerful influences that the internet has on shaping all of these behaviors. One is left with the sense that Johnson has internalized Carr's criticism, but is unwilling to acknowledge it. To avoid doing so, he constructs a straw argument to attack and appeals to a dubious metaphysical dogma about free will.
His metaphysics does, however, underwrite the practical point of his book: to encourage us to take responsibility for the information we acquire. He writes, "This book's agenda is to help people make more sense of the world around them by encouraging them to tune into things that matter most and to tune out things that make them sick." This is unquestionably a worthy agenda. The amount of trivia that pours out of the internet when you dare to expose yourself to it is breathtaking.
Johnson's recommendations for tuning into the stuff that matters and tuning out the trivia is technological. For example, he recommends various filters and email preference settings that will reduce unwanted information. He recommends software that will show you the amount of time you spend at various kinds of Web sites and techniques for developing your ability to concentrate. All of his suggestions are fine as far as they go, but are hardly likely to achieve great success. The internet is insidious and seductive. Most of all, it is constructed to serve a profit motive which will not succeed unless most people participate in what it is doing to us. When information becomes the lure for commerce, widespread information obesity will naturally follow.
In general, Johnson's The Information Diet underestimates the power of the structural forces driving the internet and overestimates the power of individuals to resist its damaging force. Realistically, we may have only two choices: to embrace the brave new world of the digital information or to create a nearly internet-free counterculture that values face-to-face social interactions over virtual ones and makes limited forays into the virtual world for only specific and limited purposes.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
The Awakening a Faith / Attributed to Asvagosha -- Yoshito S. Hakeda, tr. -- N.Y.: Columbia University Press, 1967
The following review covers two translations of The Awakening of Faith. One by Timothy Richard and the other by Yoshido S. Hakeda.
I recently read two translations of The Awakening of Faith which is a concise presentation of the central ideas of Mahayana Buddhism. It is attributed to the Buddhist philosopher Asvagosha who is thought to have lived in the first to second century. It was thought to have been translated from Sanskrit into Chinese around the year 550; however, no Sanskrit version is extant. Consequently, many believe that it is in fact exclusively a Chinese work written in the 5th or 6th century.
The first of these two versions was translated by Timothy Richard in 1894. Richard describes how he first encountered The Awakening of Faith in 1884. He was struck by the fact that it was, in his words, "a Christian book." Perhaps motivated by the publication in 1900 of D.T. Suzuki's translation, Richard published his translation in 1907 (Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books). Richard consciously gave the work a notable Christian flavor. Richard wrote of Suzuki and his translation, "as he approaches the subject from a non-Christian point of view, the light which comes from a comparison between it and Christianity is denied him." Apparently, Suzuki's problem was that he interpreted a Buddhist text from a Buddhist point of view. For Richard, the preferred approach is to interpret it from a Christian point of view. This approach is, of course, problematic. It reverses the optimal order in which comparisons should be made between religious traditions and their texts.
There is no clear evidence that the author of The Awakening of Faith was significantly influenced by Christianity; hence, any parallels between the work and Christianity would suggest independent recognition of the same religious or spiritual ideas. Drawing parallels should only be done, however, after the comparable works are translated using the unique idioms of their separate traditions. To translate one into the idiom of the other essentially forces the parallels to the surface and hides any alternative interpretation of the relationships between the traditions. To translate key terms of one tradition into the vocabulary of another tradition creates a pseudo-translation that appropriates the source text to serve the purposes of an alien tradition. The proper method of translating and comparing texts from different traditions would be to retain the idiom of the source text as much as possible through translation and only then compare its content to the alien tradition.
A far better translation is available, however, from Yoshita S. Hakeda. Hakeda notes that his text is translated in light of traditional commentaries, particularly those by Hui-yuan (523-592), Wonhyo (617-686), and Fa-tsang (643-712). Hakeda's translation is notably more literal than Richards and the vocabulary into which the work is translated is more standard within the Buddhist tradition. For example, Hakeda translates "Chen Ju" as "Suchness," while Richard translates it as "True Model," meaning God. Richard also suggests that what has been translated by Hakeda as "Tathagata" might be sometimes best translated as "Messiah."
The text of The Awakening of Faith is divided into five unequal parts: (1) a brief explanation of the reasons for writing the work, (2) a concise outline of what is to be elaborated in the work, (3) an exposition of the main philosophical ideas of the book, (4) a guide to the practical application of the ideas in section (3), and (5) devotional practices recommended by the author. Section (3) constitutes 2/3 of the entire work and is clearly the most significant section. Here the central idea of "Suchness" or the all-inclusive reality or the unconditional absolute is developed. Suchness is first of all monistic; however, the author recognizes that it has two aspects: transcendental and phenomenal. Ontologically, they are one, but epistemologically they are two. Furthermore, it is fundamentally "mind" and so most of the section is an elaboration of the nature of mind in both nirvana and samsara. These, however, consistent with the general monism of the philosophy, are ultimately described as being one and the same.
The Awakening of Faith is of great importance to several Chinese, Korean, and Japanese Buddhist schools, particularly the Hua-yen, Ch'an, Zen, and Pure Land schools.
My reading of this work was something of a disappointment. My expectations were built out of my recollections from having read the Richard translation many years ago. At that time, I found it to be among the most enlightening books I had encountered. This may have been a consequence of my then fascination with mysticism. Richard's translation rightly emphasizes this aspect of the work and for anyone interested in the mystical currents in Buddhism, The Awakening of Faith is well worth reading.
I recently read two translations of The Awakening of Faith which is a concise presentation of the central ideas of Mahayana Buddhism. It is attributed to the Buddhist philosopher Asvagosha who is thought to have lived in the first to second century. It was thought to have been translated from Sanskrit into Chinese around the year 550; however, no Sanskrit version is extant. Consequently, many believe that it is in fact exclusively a Chinese work written in the 5th or 6th century.
The first of these two versions was translated by Timothy Richard in 1894. Richard describes how he first encountered The Awakening of Faith in 1884. He was struck by the fact that it was, in his words, "a Christian book." Perhaps motivated by the publication in 1900 of D.T. Suzuki's translation, Richard published his translation in 1907 (Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books). Richard consciously gave the work a notable Christian flavor. Richard wrote of Suzuki and his translation, "as he approaches the subject from a non-Christian point of view, the light which comes from a comparison between it and Christianity is denied him." Apparently, Suzuki's problem was that he interpreted a Buddhist text from a Buddhist point of view. For Richard, the preferred approach is to interpret it from a Christian point of view. This approach is, of course, problematic. It reverses the optimal order in which comparisons should be made between religious traditions and their texts.
There is no clear evidence that the author of The Awakening of Faith was significantly influenced by Christianity; hence, any parallels between the work and Christianity would suggest independent recognition of the same religious or spiritual ideas. Drawing parallels should only be done, however, after the comparable works are translated using the unique idioms of their separate traditions. To translate one into the idiom of the other essentially forces the parallels to the surface and hides any alternative interpretation of the relationships between the traditions. To translate key terms of one tradition into the vocabulary of another tradition creates a pseudo-translation that appropriates the source text to serve the purposes of an alien tradition. The proper method of translating and comparing texts from different traditions would be to retain the idiom of the source text as much as possible through translation and only then compare its content to the alien tradition.
A far better translation is available, however, from Yoshita S. Hakeda. Hakeda notes that his text is translated in light of traditional commentaries, particularly those by Hui-yuan (523-592), Wonhyo (617-686), and Fa-tsang (643-712). Hakeda's translation is notably more literal than Richards and the vocabulary into which the work is translated is more standard within the Buddhist tradition. For example, Hakeda translates "Chen Ju" as "Suchness," while Richard translates it as "True Model," meaning God. Richard also suggests that what has been translated by Hakeda as "Tathagata" might be sometimes best translated as "Messiah."
The text of The Awakening of Faith is divided into five unequal parts: (1) a brief explanation of the reasons for writing the work, (2) a concise outline of what is to be elaborated in the work, (3) an exposition of the main philosophical ideas of the book, (4) a guide to the practical application of the ideas in section (3), and (5) devotional practices recommended by the author. Section (3) constitutes 2/3 of the entire work and is clearly the most significant section. Here the central idea of "Suchness" or the all-inclusive reality or the unconditional absolute is developed. Suchness is first of all monistic; however, the author recognizes that it has two aspects: transcendental and phenomenal. Ontologically, they are one, but epistemologically they are two. Furthermore, it is fundamentally "mind" and so most of the section is an elaboration of the nature of mind in both nirvana and samsara. These, however, consistent with the general monism of the philosophy, are ultimately described as being one and the same.
The Awakening of Faith is of great importance to several Chinese, Korean, and Japanese Buddhist schools, particularly the Hua-yen, Ch'an, Zen, and Pure Land schools.
My reading of this work was something of a disappointment. My expectations were built out of my recollections from having read the Richard translation many years ago. At that time, I found it to be among the most enlightening books I had encountered. This may have been a consequence of my then fascination with mysticism. Richard's translation rightly emphasizes this aspect of the work and for anyone interested in the mystical currents in Buddhism, The Awakening of Faith is well worth reading.
Monday, April 16, 2012
The Awakening of Faith / Ashvagosha -- Timothy Richard, tr. -- New Hyde Park, NY: University Books, 1960
The following review covers two translations of The Awakening of Faith. One by Timothy Richard and the other by Yoshido S. Hakeda.
I recently read two translations of The Awakening of Faith which is a concise presentation of the central ideas of Mahayana Buddhism. It is attributed to the Buddhist philosopher Asvagosha who is thought to have lived in the first to second century. It was thought to have been translated from Sanskrit into Chinese around the year 550; however, no Sanskrit version is extant. Consequently, many believe that it is in fact exclusively a Chinese work written in the 5th or 6th century.
The first of these two versions was translated by Timothy Richard in 1894. Richard describes how he first encountered The Awakening of Faith in 1884. He was struck by the fact that it was, in his words, "a Christian book." Perhaps motivated by the publication in 1900 of D.T. Suzuki's translation, Richard published his translation in 1907 (Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books). Richard consciously gave the work a notable Christian flavor. Richard wrote of Suzuki and his translation, "as he approaches the subject from a non-Christian point of view, the light which comes from a comparison between it and Christianity is denied him." Apparently, Suzuki's problem was that he interpreted a Buddhist text from a Buddhist point of view. For Richard, the preferred approach is to interpret it from a Christian point of view. This approach is, of course, problematic. It reverses the optimal order in which comparisons should be made between religious traditions and their texts.
There is no clear evidence that the author of The Awakening of Faith was significantly influenced by Christianity; hence, any parallels between the work and Christianity would suggest independent recognition of the same religious or spiritual ideas. Drawing parallels should only be done, however, after the comparable works are translated using the unique idioms of their separate traditions. To translate one into the idiom of the other essentially forces the parallels to the surface and hides any alternative interpretation of the relationships between the traditions. To translate key terms of one tradition into the vocabulary of another tradition creates a pseudo-translation that appropriates the source text to serve the purposes of an alien tradition. The proper method of translating and comparing texts from different traditions would be to retain the idiom of the source text as much as possible through translation and only then compare its content to the alien tradition.
A far better translation is available, however, from Yoshita S. Hakeda. Hakeda notes that his text is translated in light of traditional commentaries, particularly those by Hui-yuan (523-592), Wonhyo (617-686), and Fa-tsang (643-712). Hakeda's translation is notably more literal than Richards and the vocabulary into which the work is translated is more standard within the Buddhist tradition. For example, Hakeda translates "Chen Ju" as "Suchness," while Richard translates it as "True Model," meaning God. Richard also suggests that what has been translated by Hakeda as "Tathagata" might be sometimes best translated as "Messiah."
The text of The Awakening of Faith is divided into five unequal parts: (1) a brief explanation of the reasons for writing the work, (2) a concise outline of what is to be elaborated in the work, (3) an exposition of the main philosophical ideas of the book, (4) a guide to the practical application of the ideas in section (3), and (5) devotional practices recommended by the author. Section (3) constitutes 2/3 of the entire work and is clearly the most significant section. Here the central idea of "Suchness" or the all-inclusive reality or the unconditional absolute is developed. Suchness is first of all monistic; however, the author recognizes that it has two aspects: transcendental and phenomenal. Ontologically, they are one, but epistemologically they are two. Furthermore, it is fundamentally "mind" and so most of the section is an elaboration of the nature of mind in both nirvana and samsara. These, however, consistent with the general monism of the philosophy, are ultimately described as being one and the same.
The Awakening of Faith is of great importance to several Chinese, Korean, and Japanese Buddhist schools, particularly the Hua-yen, Ch'an, Zen, and Pure Land schools.
My reading of this work was something of a disappointment. My expectations were built out of my recollections from having read the Richard translation many years ago. At that time, I found it to be among the most enlightening books I had encountered. This may have been a consequence of my then fascination with mysticism. Richard's translation rightly emphasizes this aspect of the work and for anyone interested in the mystical currents in Buddhism, The Awakening of Faith is well worth reading.
I recently read two translations of The Awakening of Faith which is a concise presentation of the central ideas of Mahayana Buddhism. It is attributed to the Buddhist philosopher Asvagosha who is thought to have lived in the first to second century. It was thought to have been translated from Sanskrit into Chinese around the year 550; however, no Sanskrit version is extant. Consequently, many believe that it is in fact exclusively a Chinese work written in the 5th or 6th century.
The first of these two versions was translated by Timothy Richard in 1894. Richard describes how he first encountered The Awakening of Faith in 1884. He was struck by the fact that it was, in his words, "a Christian book." Perhaps motivated by the publication in 1900 of D.T. Suzuki's translation, Richard published his translation in 1907 (Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books). Richard consciously gave the work a notable Christian flavor. Richard wrote of Suzuki and his translation, "as he approaches the subject from a non-Christian point of view, the light which comes from a comparison between it and Christianity is denied him." Apparently, Suzuki's problem was that he interpreted a Buddhist text from a Buddhist point of view. For Richard, the preferred approach is to interpret it from a Christian point of view. This approach is, of course, problematic. It reverses the optimal order in which comparisons should be made between religious traditions and their texts.
There is no clear evidence that the author of The Awakening of Faith was significantly influenced by Christianity; hence, any parallels between the work and Christianity would suggest independent recognition of the same religious or spiritual ideas. Drawing parallels should only be done, however, after the comparable works are translated using the unique idioms of their separate traditions. To translate one into the idiom of the other essentially forces the parallels to the surface and hides any alternative interpretation of the relationships between the traditions. To translate key terms of one tradition into the vocabulary of another tradition creates a pseudo-translation that appropriates the source text to serve the purposes of an alien tradition. The proper method of translating and comparing texts from different traditions would be to retain the idiom of the source text as much as possible through translation and only then compare its content to the alien tradition.
A far better translation is available, however, from Yoshita S. Hakeda. Hakeda notes that his text is translated in light of traditional commentaries, particularly those by Hui-yuan (523-592), Wonhyo (617-686), and Fa-tsang (643-712). Hakeda's translation is notably more literal than Richards and the vocabulary into which the work is translated is more standard within the Buddhist tradition. For example, Hakeda translates "Chen Ju" as "Suchness," while Richard translates it as "True Model," meaning God. Richard also suggests that what has been translated by Hakeda as "Tathagata" might be sometimes best translated as "Messiah."
The text of The Awakening of Faith is divided into five unequal parts: (1) a brief explanation of the reasons for writing the work, (2) a concise outline of what is to be elaborated in the work, (3) an exposition of the main philosophical ideas of the book, (4) a guide to the practical application of the ideas in section (3), and (5) devotional practices recommended by the author. Section (3) constitutes 2/3 of the entire work and is clearly the most significant section. Here the central idea of "Suchness" or the all-inclusive reality or the unconditional absolute is developed. Suchness is first of all monistic; however, the author recognizes that it has two aspects: transcendental and phenomenal. Ontologically, they are one, but epistemologically they are two. Furthermore, it is fundamentally "mind" and so most of the section is an elaboration of the nature of mind in both nirvana and samsara. These, however, consistent with the general monism of the philosophy, are ultimately described as being one and the same.
The Awakening of Faith is of great importance to several Chinese, Korean, and Japanese Buddhist schools, particularly the Hua-yen, Ch'an, Zen, and Pure Land schools.
My reading of this work was something of a disappointment. My expectations were built out of my recollections from having read the Richard translation many years ago. At that time, I found it to be among the most enlightening books I had encountered. This may have been a consequence of my then fascination with mysticism. Richard's translation rightly emphasizes this aspect of the work and for anyone interested in the mystical currents in Buddhism, The Awakening of Faith is well worth reading.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Buddhism: Its Essence and Development / Edward Conze -- N.Y.: Harper and Row, 1975
Edward Conze's Buddhism: Its Essence and Development is among the most popular general introductions to Buddhism and for good reason. Conze is one of history's foremost European scholars of Buddhism. He translated numerous sutras and shastras and wrote works of his own on the history and philosophy of Buddhism.
The subtitle of Buddhism: Its Essence and Development aptly describes the character of the work. The early pages provide a brief listing, and account of the significance of the most important Buddhist documents and address some of the common questions and impressions about Buddhism that arose in Europe and the U.S., e.g., Is Buddhism atheistic and is it a pessimistic philosophy?
The core of the work describes the philosophical tenets of early Buddhism and those ideas that most all Buddhists accept, e.g., The Four Noble Truths. It also describes how different Buddhist schools of thought developed these ideas. In particular, the doctrines of the Theravadin, Sarvastivadin, and Mahasangikan schools are discussed and then later, he presents the doctrines of the Mahayana tradition (the Madhyamika and Yogacara schools). All of this might count as the "essence" of Buddhism.
Its "development" describes the full scope of historical Buddhism, including how it became transformed by the specific cultures that adopted it. Here the magical and mythological views that became attached to the core ideas are discussed. Conze also presents the views of Bhakti, Tantric, and Pure Land Buddhism. These seem to reside at the intersection between reasonable developments of Buddhist thought and the degeneration of its core ideas, brought on by the superstitions of the societies which produced these schools.
Perhaps the greatest (only?) weakness of the work is the brevity of the treatment that Conze gives to Ch'an and Zen Buddhism, making the work a bit too "Indo-centric" as a general treatment of Buddhism. At just over 200 pages, the work could have been much improved with an additional 30-50 pages on these schools of Buddhism.
The subtitle of Buddhism: Its Essence and Development aptly describes the character of the work. The early pages provide a brief listing, and account of the significance of the most important Buddhist documents and address some of the common questions and impressions about Buddhism that arose in Europe and the U.S., e.g., Is Buddhism atheistic and is it a pessimistic philosophy?
The core of the work describes the philosophical tenets of early Buddhism and those ideas that most all Buddhists accept, e.g., The Four Noble Truths. It also describes how different Buddhist schools of thought developed these ideas. In particular, the doctrines of the Theravadin, Sarvastivadin, and Mahasangikan schools are discussed and then later, he presents the doctrines of the Mahayana tradition (the Madhyamika and Yogacara schools). All of this might count as the "essence" of Buddhism.
Its "development" describes the full scope of historical Buddhism, including how it became transformed by the specific cultures that adopted it. Here the magical and mythological views that became attached to the core ideas are discussed. Conze also presents the views of Bhakti, Tantric, and Pure Land Buddhism. These seem to reside at the intersection between reasonable developments of Buddhist thought and the degeneration of its core ideas, brought on by the superstitions of the societies which produced these schools.
Perhaps the greatest (only?) weakness of the work is the brevity of the treatment that Conze gives to Ch'an and Zen Buddhism, making the work a bit too "Indo-centric" as a general treatment of Buddhism. At just over 200 pages, the work could have been much improved with an additional 30-50 pages on these schools of Buddhism.
Monday, April 2, 2012
The Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom / Edward Conze, trans. -- Berkeley, Cal.: University of California Press, 1975
Once again I'm faced with the daunting prospect of reviewing one of the world's greatest pieces of literature. This time it is the Pancavimsatisahasrika Prajnaparamita (PP), translated by Edward Conze as The Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom. The PP is among three important works in the Prajnaparamita literature. The three are distinguished mainly by how much repetition has been redacted from the longest version. The three versions are the Astadasasahasrika, the PP, and the Satasahasrika in 18,000, 25,000, and 100,000 lines respectively. While Conze's translation is largely from the PP, some parts are drawn from the other two versions. The Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom is a sprawling work of over 600 pages, so readers without a firm grounding in Buddhism may want to choose a different sutra to begin their exploration of Buddhism's primary sources, but anyone with a decent background in Buddhism and a modicum of dedication certainly should make time to read the Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom carefully.
The Prajnaparamita literature is without question one of the most important bodies of work in world religion, expounding the central ideas of the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. In particular, it details the concepts of the bodhisattva and sunyata or "emptiness." The bodhisattva is particularly significant in distinguishing the Mahayana tradition from the previous (Hinayana) tradition, while sunyata stands as the critical concept of the Mahayana abhidharma or higher learning. Both of these concepts appear in a less developed form in the Hinayana literature, but it is not until the Prajnaparamita that they are brought to center stage and fully developed.
To provide a context for these ideas, one should begin with the what Buddhists call "The Four Noble Truths." These are that (1) the world is a place of suffering, (2) this suffering is caused by one's desires, (3) this suffering can be eliminated by eliminating one's desires, and (4) the way to eliminate one's desires is to follow the Eightfold Path. The Eightfold Path is a prescription for living that is composed of maintaining right views, right intention, right action, right speech, right livelihood, right effort, right concentration, and right meditation.
Early Buddhist monks followed the Eightfold Path in two ways: the path of the disciple or the arhat and the path of the pratyekabuddha. The former strictly followed the prescriptions of the Buddha in attaining enlightenment in the context of a Buddhist community (samgha). The latter found enlightenment on his (generally not her) own. In both instances, the final destination of the path was to achieve individual enlightenment and escape the cycle of birth and death and find extinction in nirvana.
There were, however, certain tendencies within Buddhism that suggested a different more compassionate and all-inclusive path. Early Buddhism maintained the doctrine of anatma or no self. In essence, it denied the existence of the individual soul. In light of this doctrine, the notion that an individual might seek to achieve enlightenment separate from all other sentient beings seemed, well, selfish. (More on this later.) Instead, the only true path to enlightenment comes when all beings are enlightened. This is the task of the bodhisattva: to work for the enlightenment of all beings.
Working for the enlightenment or salvation of all beings required the bodhisattva to develop six virtues: giving, morality, patience, vigour, concentration, and wisdom. Of these, the Prajnaparamita literature stresses perfecting wisdom. Wisdom is compared to the right hand (of a right-handed person) while all the other virtues are the left hand. Perfecting wisdom involves at first understanding that the true nature of being is sunyata or "emptiness." The Hinayana tradition already recognized something like this with regard to persons. Persons are composed of the five skandas (form, feelings, perception, impulses, and consciousness). The skandas do not, however, "attach" to any core substance that is a self. They are ephemeral collections of attributes that combine without being grounded in a substance. In the Hinayana tradition (particularly the Sarvastivadan school) the skandas had a genuine existence. The Mahayana tradition rejected this and maintained that without a substantive basis, the skandas were empty. This is not to say they do not exist nor to say that they exist, but that existence and non-existence simply are not predicates that can be applied to the skandas. The Mahayana Buddhists applied this same treatment to worldly objects as they too are composed of the skandas. Consequently on this account, all things (dharmas) are empty.
One way to begin to understand emptiness is to compare what one sees in front of one's face with what one sees when one closes one's eyes. These are like existence and non-existence. Emptiness is like what one "sees" behind one's head. It is neither the colorful variation of what one sees with open eyes nor the blackness of what one sees with closed eyes. Instead, visual predicates do not apply.
While the PP is most certainly a work that encompasses ontology, epistemology, and ethics, it is most of all a practical guide to enlightenment. Understanding the emptiness of all things is an initial step toward adopting a point of view on experience which promotes non-attachment and ultimately a way of acting in the world that promotes the cultivation of the other five perfections. The final perfection of the perfections comes with the development of "skill in means." By this the PP means living one's life without consciously understanding that one is exercising the perfections. For example, one gives without noting that one is giving. One distinguishes neither the giver, the recipient of the gift, nor the gift. As an analogy, consider the pianist who has so perfected a piece of music that her hands play it without conscious command from her mind. Exercising the perfections, as with expertly playing the music, has become unconscious, second nature.
Most important within the PP is the concept of the bodhisattva or the enlightened being that forgoes complete enlightenment until the task of enlightening all beings is accomplished. As previously mentioned, the bodhisattva is an outgrowth of the concept of anatma, but furthermore it is also the natural outgrowth of the non-duality of all things. The non-duality of all things is a function of their emptiness. No predicate (e.g. existent/non-existent, caused/uncaused, enlightened/unenlightened) and no opposition (e.g., subject/object, self/other, phenomenal world/noumenal world) correctly characterizes what truly is. Hence, without the distinction of self and other, the salvation of what appears to be the individual self cannot be accomplished without also saving the apparent other. The perfection of wisdom then entails perfect, universal compassion.
A epistemological objection might be posed at this point regarding how we can understand any of this, if the distinctions and predicates of language strictly speaking are false. While it is true that all that is said in the PP is strictly speaking false, it is not so in the context of conventional knowledge. Attaining perfect wisdom involves treading the Mahayana "path." In the early stages of the path, conventional knowledge is used to point the monk in the direction of enlightenment, but in the final stages of the path conventional knowledge becomes unnecessary, skill in means is acquired, and an intuitive knowledge of the Dharma achieved.
Reading The Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom is a profoundly exhilarating experience. At the beginning, there is much that is puzzling and repetitive (as is true throughout the work); however, as concepts are explained again and again in slightly different ways, one gets the feeling of clouds drifting into a cloudless sky. In time one hears quiet rolling thunder in the distance which become louder, closer and more abrupt. Toward the end of the work, one experiences sudden flashes of understanding like bolts of lightening descending from the clouds. It is no wonder that the PP spawned one of the greatest spiritual movements in history.
The Prajnaparamita literature is without question one of the most important bodies of work in world religion, expounding the central ideas of the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. In particular, it details the concepts of the bodhisattva and sunyata or "emptiness." The bodhisattva is particularly significant in distinguishing the Mahayana tradition from the previous (Hinayana) tradition, while sunyata stands as the critical concept of the Mahayana abhidharma or higher learning. Both of these concepts appear in a less developed form in the Hinayana literature, but it is not until the Prajnaparamita that they are brought to center stage and fully developed.
To provide a context for these ideas, one should begin with the what Buddhists call "The Four Noble Truths." These are that (1) the world is a place of suffering, (2) this suffering is caused by one's desires, (3) this suffering can be eliminated by eliminating one's desires, and (4) the way to eliminate one's desires is to follow the Eightfold Path. The Eightfold Path is a prescription for living that is composed of maintaining right views, right intention, right action, right speech, right livelihood, right effort, right concentration, and right meditation.
Early Buddhist monks followed the Eightfold Path in two ways: the path of the disciple or the arhat and the path of the pratyekabuddha. The former strictly followed the prescriptions of the Buddha in attaining enlightenment in the context of a Buddhist community (samgha). The latter found enlightenment on his (generally not her) own. In both instances, the final destination of the path was to achieve individual enlightenment and escape the cycle of birth and death and find extinction in nirvana.
There were, however, certain tendencies within Buddhism that suggested a different more compassionate and all-inclusive path. Early Buddhism maintained the doctrine of anatma or no self. In essence, it denied the existence of the individual soul. In light of this doctrine, the notion that an individual might seek to achieve enlightenment separate from all other sentient beings seemed, well, selfish. (More on this later.) Instead, the only true path to enlightenment comes when all beings are enlightened. This is the task of the bodhisattva: to work for the enlightenment of all beings.
Working for the enlightenment or salvation of all beings required the bodhisattva to develop six virtues: giving, morality, patience, vigour, concentration, and wisdom. Of these, the Prajnaparamita literature stresses perfecting wisdom. Wisdom is compared to the right hand (of a right-handed person) while all the other virtues are the left hand. Perfecting wisdom involves at first understanding that the true nature of being is sunyata or "emptiness." The Hinayana tradition already recognized something like this with regard to persons. Persons are composed of the five skandas (form, feelings, perception, impulses, and consciousness). The skandas do not, however, "attach" to any core substance that is a self. They are ephemeral collections of attributes that combine without being grounded in a substance. In the Hinayana tradition (particularly the Sarvastivadan school) the skandas had a genuine existence. The Mahayana tradition rejected this and maintained that without a substantive basis, the skandas were empty. This is not to say they do not exist nor to say that they exist, but that existence and non-existence simply are not predicates that can be applied to the skandas. The Mahayana Buddhists applied this same treatment to worldly objects as they too are composed of the skandas. Consequently on this account, all things (dharmas) are empty.
One way to begin to understand emptiness is to compare what one sees in front of one's face with what one sees when one closes one's eyes. These are like existence and non-existence. Emptiness is like what one "sees" behind one's head. It is neither the colorful variation of what one sees with open eyes nor the blackness of what one sees with closed eyes. Instead, visual predicates do not apply.
While the PP is most certainly a work that encompasses ontology, epistemology, and ethics, it is most of all a practical guide to enlightenment. Understanding the emptiness of all things is an initial step toward adopting a point of view on experience which promotes non-attachment and ultimately a way of acting in the world that promotes the cultivation of the other five perfections. The final perfection of the perfections comes with the development of "skill in means." By this the PP means living one's life without consciously understanding that one is exercising the perfections. For example, one gives without noting that one is giving. One distinguishes neither the giver, the recipient of the gift, nor the gift. As an analogy, consider the pianist who has so perfected a piece of music that her hands play it without conscious command from her mind. Exercising the perfections, as with expertly playing the music, has become unconscious, second nature.
Most important within the PP is the concept of the bodhisattva or the enlightened being that forgoes complete enlightenment until the task of enlightening all beings is accomplished. As previously mentioned, the bodhisattva is an outgrowth of the concept of anatma, but furthermore it is also the natural outgrowth of the non-duality of all things. The non-duality of all things is a function of their emptiness. No predicate (e.g. existent/non-existent, caused/uncaused, enlightened/unenlightened) and no opposition (e.g., subject/object, self/other, phenomenal world/noumenal world) correctly characterizes what truly is. Hence, without the distinction of self and other, the salvation of what appears to be the individual self cannot be accomplished without also saving the apparent other. The perfection of wisdom then entails perfect, universal compassion.
A epistemological objection might be posed at this point regarding how we can understand any of this, if the distinctions and predicates of language strictly speaking are false. While it is true that all that is said in the PP is strictly speaking false, it is not so in the context of conventional knowledge. Attaining perfect wisdom involves treading the Mahayana "path." In the early stages of the path, conventional knowledge is used to point the monk in the direction of enlightenment, but in the final stages of the path conventional knowledge becomes unnecessary, skill in means is acquired, and an intuitive knowledge of the Dharma achieved.
Reading The Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom is a profoundly exhilarating experience. At the beginning, there is much that is puzzling and repetitive (as is true throughout the work); however, as concepts are explained again and again in slightly different ways, one gets the feeling of clouds drifting into a cloudless sky. In time one hears quiet rolling thunder in the distance which become louder, closer and more abrupt. Toward the end of the work, one experiences sudden flashes of understanding like bolts of lightening descending from the clouds. It is no wonder that the PP spawned one of the greatest spiritual movements in history.
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