2. Overview of the Translations: Interpretive Attitudes and Translative Trends
Since its first translation in modern Greek,
5 the
Daodejing 道德經 (or
Laozi老子) has become the most translated Chinese classic in the Greek publishing world.
6 With one exception, Greek renderings of the Daoist text are translations of (English and/or French) translations. Overall, lack of access to classical Chinese has not allowed direct engagement either with primary sources or with the Chinese commentarial tradition, and references to Western commentators are limited to non-existent. This paper specifically looks at three translations of the
Daodejing: Mania Seferiadis’s
7 Lao Tsu: Tao Te King Λάο Τσου: Τάο Τε Κινγκ (Laozi: Daodejing),
8 the first translation of the text in Greek (
Seferiadi [1971] 1995); Giοrgos Alexakis’s
Lao Tse Tao Te King: To Vivlio tou Logou kai tis Fysis Λάο Τσε Τάο Τε Κινγκ: Το Βιβλίο του Λόγου και της Φύσης (Laozi Daodejing: The Book of Logos and Nature;
Alexakis 1996); and Konstantinos G. Polymeros’s
Tao Te Tzingk: Tο Poiima tou Giraiou Τάο Τε Τζινγκ: Το Ποίημα του Γηραιού (Dao De Jing: The Poem of the Old Man) (
Polymeros 2021), the first Greek translation of the text from classical Chinese that has been published until today.
As a Daoist scholar and translator of the
Daodejing has succinctly put it, “the text, despite its cryptic nature, makes sense as a whole” (
Moeller 2007, p. vii). The co-existence of antithetical elements as a feature of the text itself (abstruseness and appeal to common sense and experience) has led to two opposing tendencies in the translations examined here: (over)reliance on familiar notions, frameworks, and cultural experiences coupled with attempts to preserve the text’s enigmatic character through mystification. Moreover, there is attention to the poetic qualities of the text and emphasis on what is perceived as its remedial function for a modern (Greek) readership. More specifically, the introductions and supplementary materials (notes, comments, glosses, and appendixes) examined here reveal an assumed-as-self-evident similarity between Daoist and more familiar themes, categories, and frameworks, mainly from Greek, but also from other non-Chinese philosophical, literary, religious, and folk traditions. Overall, these connections are presented without justification or reference to supporting sources or alternative readings. Secondly, there is at the same time an acknowledgement of the distinct character, difficulty, and even impenetrability of the classical Chinese language and/or of the
Daodejing itself. Whether a religious (Seferiadi), philosophical (Alexakis), or political (Polymeros) reading of the text is prioritized, there is, in varying degrees, an emphasis on its perceived mystical or esoteric character. Thirdly, all translations reveal some degree of attentiveness to the text’s poetic elements (rhythm, terseness, elusiveness, suggestiveness, ambiguity). Lastly, the
Daodejing is more or less explicitly proposed as beneficial and even remedial for its (Greek) readers, on an individual and/or communal level. In what follows we will look at varying manifestations of the above translative trends in each of the translations, starting with the first published translation of the
Daodejing by Mania Seferiadi.
Mania Seferiadi’s 1971 translation has been considered a “standard” for years. In her prologue to the edition, the translator admits she had no option but to use several earlier translations
9 internationally regarded as authoritative in order to “understand what the Chinese text says, or what it probably says.”
10 Seferiadi notes that any access to the primary text was through secondary sources, and occasionally references specific characters or “ideograms” (according to the traditional terminology, still used in Greek literature), and their alternative meanings. She does not fail to stress the difficulty of the text and cautions about its “fluidity” and its “rough and steep thought” (Ibid., p. 10). As the poet Giorgos Seferis (d. 1971) pointed out to her, the
Daodejing “breaks bones,” and Seferiadi admits that sometimes her “foot slipped” (Ibid.). She cautions that, faced with the immense difficulty, one is tempted to “hold on to the rope one carries” with them, that is, to resort to familiar notions and frameworks, projecting one’s own ideas (Ibid., p. 11). A historical example she mentions is the Jesuits’ reading of Chapter 42
11 as proof that the Chinese knew the Holy Undivided Trinity (
Seferiadi [1971] 1995, p. 12).
Seferiadi’s awareness of the danger of cultural reductionism is evident in the absence of any connections with non-Chinese ideas or cultural experiences in her own commentary of the translation (150 notes with glosses and alternative translations of words or phrases). The epigraphs to the edition, however, indicate an assumed commensurability between Daoism and more familiar sources: pre-Socratic philosophy and the New Testament. Explaining
yin and
yang and their relation in the introductory “Notes”, the translator describes them as opposites but not opponents; “victory does not mean exterminating one of the two, but unification of the two in absolute harmony” (Ibid., p. 16). The epigraphs, combined with other related references, as we will see below, imply that unification of conflicting forces or states often expressed in paradoxical language is taken to be a common idea in sources as diverse as the
Daodejing, the Gospel of Matthew (10:16: “Be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves”), Empedocles’s cosmogony of conflict between love and strife (Fragment 109), and Heraclitus’s paradoxical teachings (Fragment 71: “Remember the one who forgets where the logos leads” (
Diels 1903, p. 76)). Heraclitus is also quoted
12 in the “Additional Notes” (
Seferiadi [1971] 1995, pp. 185–89) section, where the translator describes the theory and practice of
dao as “unification of opposites,” holding that “Heraclitus saw something similar” (Ibid., p. 189).
These associations fit in with Seferiadi’s reading of the Daodejing, which she seems to appreciate primarily for its religious content. Discussing the issue of authorship in her introductory “Notes” (Ibid., pp. 13–16), the translator mentions the possibility of the text being the product of an oral tradition in passing, but mostly elaborates on the stories around the legendary author of the Daodejing, Laozi or Lao Dan 老聃. Moreover, she describes the Daoists as “famous alchemists and magicians,” and, as we saw, one of the mottos of the translation is a quote by Empedocles, known for infusing his philosophy with religious and magical beliefs and practices. In her “Additional Notes,” Seferiadi refers to Daoist practices (breathing, coitus reservatus) and adds the translations of two classical texts of folk Daoist religion in Appendixes A and B, respectively: the Taishang ganying pian 太上感應篇 (Treatise of the Exalted One on Response and Retribution) and the Qing jing jing 清靜經 (Classic of Clarity and Tranquility). The translator offers some information on these texts’ religious and ethical import, making no reference to authorship, textual matters, or the relation between the teachings therein with those in the Daodejing. She again seems to appeal to the reader’s common sense when she notes that “there is no need to interrupt the reading of the text with notes” in her brief introduction to Appendix B (Ibid., p. 202). She also appeals to the Greek reader’s (Christian) religious experiences in the few notes added in Appendix A. There, as in the translation of the Taishang ganying pian, words such as “sin” (amartia αμαρτία), “Lord” (kyrios Κύριος), and “neighbor” (plision πλησίον) trigger associations with biblical teachings (Ibid., pp. 193–98).
Poeticity is evidently also one of the translator’s main concerns, and Seferiadi’s language is undoubtedly most elegant and powerful. One year before the first publication of the
Daodejing in Greek and one year before the death of the poet Giorgos Seferis (in 1971),
13 her uncle, Seferiadi notes in her prologue that Seferis “brought the text to life” and the language of her translation “bears his mark.” Lastly, Seferiadi refers to the remedial function of the
Daodejing for a modern Greek reader with a brief note describing the relation between
yin and
yang as a “holy marriage” (Ibid., p. 16). Perhaps, she argues, this understanding, which is the “true alchemy” of the Daoists, is a remedy for “the divided human” of the modern world (Ibid.).
In Giorgos Alexakis’s translation, published twenty-five years after Seferiadi’s, the above interpretive attitudes and translative trends are comparatively more salient. The lengthy introduction (
Alexakis 1996, pp. 9–21) to the translation evinces reliance on an abundance of familiar notions, traditions, and frameworks. Alexakis parallels the
Daodejing’s teaching to the Socratic examination of one’s life and summarizes it through twelve key ideas. Among them are the “mean/measure” (
to metro το μέτρο), an interpretation of the text’s promotion of female (soft) rather than male (hard) qualities in Chapter 39, and “love” (
agapi αγάπη), the liberal translation of
xiu 修 (“cultivation”) in Chapter 54. The translator is more concerned with the philosophical rather than the religious import of the text, which he describes as “a book with poetic aphorisms about life and self-knowledge” (Ibid., p. 9) through the experience of Dao. He also dedicates a separate section in his epilogue to the “Parallel Lives” of Laozi and Heraclitus, whose philosophy, he agrees with Seferiadi, is in many respects reminiscent of that of the “wise old man” (Laozi). Alexakis finds resonances between Heraclitus’s
logos (λόγος) and the central teaching of the
Daodejing, stressing “the notable historical phenomenon” of finding two thinkers who lived in places very remote from one another and having “almost identical” teachings (Ibid., p. 118), specifically in terms of “the struggle and harmony of opposites,” constant flux, and “the hubris of arrogance” (Ibid., p. 117). Moreover, as the introduction informs the reader, the translator’s commentary is made up of explanatory notes, later Daoist comments and aphorisms, and passages from holy books of various religions, philosophers, poets, and writers, including a few passages from the
Yijing 易經 (Book of Changes) and the
Zhuangzi 莊子, two references to Wang Bi 王弼 (d. 249), many Heraclitean fragments and sayings from the Bible, the Quran, the Vedas, T. S. Eliot, Hermann Hesse, Khalil Gibran, Kafka, and others.
14The reader is invited to reflect on what seem to be taken as self-evident connections between the text and a variety of religious, philosophical, and literary sources, while the translator argues that the
Daodejing only has a “seemingly puzzling style and paradoxicality,” meant to help the reader grasp the “duality and continuous succession of phenomena” and their inner unity and harmony (Ibid., p. 111). The text is described as readily accessible without explication or popularization, and the reader is prompted, if they wish, to ignore the translator’s comments (Ibid., p. 21). Quoting Fritjof Capra (b. 1939) and Alan Watts (d. 1973), Alexakis stresses the idiosyncrasy of the Chinese language and gives a brief account of his own personal experience of translating the text (which started in 1983).
15 With a focus on familiarity and accessibility, he supports the legitimacy of translating English translations quoting Dimitris Velissaropoulos,
16 who writes, “the only language that has certain analogies [with Chinese] is English; there are few grammar rules in English, words are not declined, and they are often used as nouns, but also as verbs or adjectives” (
Alexakis 1996, p. 15). However, there is also a mystifying tendency in the translator’s epilogue. “Laozi’s Dao” is, Alexakis argues, directly associated with Heraclitus’s
logos, understood as the Inexpressible, according to Jean Brun (d. 1994), whom the author references (Ibid., p. 117). It is “what is situated in someone’s very heart and remains deeply hidden there;” it is the “original cause,” what Jacob Boeme (d. 1624), the philosopher and Christian mystic, also referenced by Alexakis, describes as
Urgrund; it is the “Mysterium Magnum.” (Ibid.) These analogies are made without further elaboration. Moreover, in his introduction, Alexakis focuses on the legends around the figure of Laozi, translated as “wise old man (
sofos geros σοφός γέρος)” or “old friend (
palios filos παλιός φίλος)” and treated as the thinker behind the teachings found in the
Daodejing.
In a separate section of his epilogue entitled “The Current Relevance of Laozi’s Teaching,” but also twice in his notes on the translation, Alexakis stresses the corrective function of the
Daodejing as “a timeless text of global significance” that proposes “a meaningful, simple, friendly, and conscious life” by promoting measure and simplicity against greed and confusion, faith and friendliness against suspicion and negativity, and focus and awareness against distraction and illusion (
Alexakis 1996, p. 122). Finally, even though at the expense of accuracy sometimes, the translation successfully reproduces the original text’s poetic-aphoristic style, preserving its terseness in the modern Greek version.
The third translation examined here, by Konstantinos Polymeros, is the first from classical Chinese. In his prologue, Polymeros offers a “pessimistic,” as he calls it, “Account of Betrayals.” Quoting the Italian saying which says “traduttore traditore,”
17 he recognizes that, despite his work’s uniqueness, translation still remains a “necessary betrayal” since the translator is compelled to choose one meaning of a character among many, one version of the text among various versions, and a certain number of commentaries among many (thus “betraying” all others) (
Polymeros 2021, p. 5). It is evident, however, that Polymeros put every effort in making up for the limitations of his endeavor. He is the only one among the three translators who draws directly on traditional and contemporary Chinese and Western scholarly work, as is also evident in his extensive bibliography. Unlike Seferiadi and Alexakis, Polymeros emphasizes the political import of the
Daodejing and pays particular attention to the notion of “the people” (
laos λαός), viewed as “perhaps the most complex notion in the text,” (Ibid., p. 125) which, however, is not discussed further.
18 The focus on the political philosophy of the
Daodejing, Polymeros explains, is the reason for choosing the commentaries and editions of the “Old Man on the Riverside”
19 (Heshang Gong 河上公 [c. 200 CE]) and, to a much lesser extent, Wang Bi—other thinkers are seen by the translator as more metaphysical and less political. This choice of commentary and the political reading, unlike “methods of breathing and meditation,” are regarded as beneficial for contemporary Greek society, which is characterized by “political cannibalism and moral decay” (
Polymeros 2021, pp. 7–8). Polymeros considers the political dimension of the key term
wu wei 無為 (non-purposeful or effortless action) as “revolutionary” not only for antiquity, but also for the present.
Apart from recognition of the text’s remedial function, the supplementary sections in Polymeros’s translation (prologue, introduction, commentary, and appendix) reveal other translative trends as well: reliance on familiar notions, frameworks, and cultural experiences, as well as mystification. The main body of the introduction makes use of Chinese classics, such as the
Book of Songs (
Shijing 詩經), the
Book of Rites (
Liji 禮記), the
Analects (
Lunyu 論語), and others. However, the translator draws on a variety of disciplines and sources, too: Greek and world mythologies, ethnography, Eastern religions, ancient Greek philosophy (e.g., Heraclitus and Plato) and literature (e.g., Homer and Euripides), the New Testament, and world folk traditions. Special emphasis is placed particularly on rituals and magic (sacrificial and divinatory practices). Some scholars have argued that the imagery and philosophy of the
Daodejing can be traced back to an ancient imagery connected to rituals.
20 Polymeros seems to imply a connection between the
Daodejing’s political philosophy and ritual practices but does not adequately support or elaborate on the connection. Moreover, folk traditions, ritual practices, and beliefs across time and cultures are presented as “coincidentally” similar. The frequent use of expressions such as “is remindful of,” “is related to,” and “is similar to” is telling. The translator resorts to familiar categories and traditions, and also seems to imply that world cultures share a common origin or can be explained in terms of a perceived shared humanity.
Along with assumed similarity, mystification is another feature of the translator’s approach, evident in the supplementary materials and commentary. Polymeros describes the “mythical mist” created around Laozi, who is treated as a historical figure that eventually developed into a religious figure and deity (
Polymeros 2021, p. 9). The legends around Laozi are, again, “very remindful of” the “various conjectures about the divine or human nature of Jesus, Bachus, etc.” (Ibid., p. 10). Laozi is also compared to Jesus and the Buddha in terms of the institutionalization and monetarization of their teaching. The epilogue, entitled “The Dark History of the People,” (Ibid., pp. 125–34) adds to the mystical atmosphere surrounding the discussion. It is introduced as a collection of “often dark” “details and personal thoughts,” and comprises three parts: on “The Mythology of Fear,” “Fear, Horror Movies, and Bourgeois Ethics,” and “Symbolization of Ancient Rituals.” Overall, there seems to be no unifying thread connecting the numerous notes and additional materials, which ultimately obscure rather than highlight the political message of the text. Finally, Polymeros seems attentive to the text’s poeticity and his Greek has measure and rhythm, as well as a certain poetic quality thanks to particular lexical choices and preferred structures.
In the following section I will look closely at how the translative trends discussed above play out in the explications and translations of the key notions dao 道 and de 德 in four passages. I situate the understanding of these two notions in each translator’s overall take on the text and the Daoist proposal, starting with one of its core notions, dao.
3. Dao 道: “TAO,” “Way,” “Path,” “Logos”
Dao 道 (or
Tao) is a central notion in the Chinese cultural tradition and a fundamental idea in Chinese thought. From the basic meaning of “path,” “course,” “way,” and “road,” as well as “to speak” and “method,”
dao acquired the broader meaning of the general principle of the world and human life (
Yang 2011, p. 319).
Dao thus involves both an ontological and a moral, both a descriptive and a prescriptive aspect. The
Daodejing abounds with illustrations, allusions, and images relating to
dao, which is also often described in paradoxical or negative terms—empty fullness, changeable constancy, the unnamable, the ineffable, the unformed, the solitary, or the silent. Its meaning and connotations differ between chapters and even within sentences. In the
Daodejing dao can refer to a metaphysical entity understood as ultimate true existence, to natural laws or patterns, or to exemplary models of human life (
Chen 2020, p. 2). In English editions of the text,
dao,
Dao, or the
Dao is often left untranslated or translated as “Way,” “the Way,” or, with an emphasis on its processual and dynamic character, as “way-making” (
Ames and Hall 2003).
In this section I look closely at the opening lines of Chapter 1 (
Table 1) and Chapter 42 (
Table 2). I present the three Greek translations, offer a brief discussion on the translation choices in each case, and summarize the commentaries identifying instances where the translative trends identified above (reliance on familiar categories and frameworks, mystification, attention to poeticity, and emphasis on current relevance) are most evident. The Chinese text
21 and the three Greek renderings with transcriptions and rough English translations are as follows:
Reliance on the familiar is apparent in all three translations of both verses (
Table 1 and
Table 2), in varying degrees and ways. First, capitalization, non-existent in Chinese, is one method the translators employ to point to the centrality of
dao in the teachings of the
Daodejing. In one case
dao is left untranslated (T1: TAO
22), and also rendered as
o Dromos in Chapter 9 (
tian dao 天道, ο δρόμος του Oυρανού
o dromos tou Ouranou, the Way of Heaven). In her introductory note, Seferiadi defines
dao as a noun meaning “road,” “path,” “method,” or “way something happens,” and as a verb meaning “to say” or “to lead, to guide.” She further compares
dao, in the broader sense it gradually acquired, with Western equivalents of “the One” and “Being,” such as the Gnostics’
Nous (Mind) and Heraclitean
logos. In the other two translations (T2 and T3),
dao is also identified with what are seen as similar central concepts in the Western philosophical and religious tradition: with the Greek terms
Logos (λόγος; here mainly: “word,” “speech”) (T2) and
Odos (οδός) (Τ3); the Koini Greek
23 variant for “road,” “path,” “way,” “passage,” and “method”; and Jesus’s self-description in the New Testament.
24While noting the absence of articles and plural markers in the Chinese language, as well as the verbal use of
dao, all three translators opt for translating
dao as a proper noun in the singular and with the definite neuter (T1), masculine (T2), and feminine (T3) article, respectively:
to TAO το ΤAO,
o Logos ο Λόγος,
i Odos η Oδός.
Dao is presented within a Western two-world theoretical framework solely in terms of oneness: as a single, unified principle generating, governing, and retaining an independent status in relation to all things and affairs. Moreover, in many Indo-European languages, articles accompany substantives and are thus related to substances. In Chinese, words that could be categorized as common nouns or substantives do not behave solely as substantives if at all. The addition of the definite article in all translations examined here reveals a reliance on the more familiar Western metaphysics of substance.
25 Particularly with regard to Chapter 40 (
Table 2), the exclusive use of the singular number (“the Dao,” “the Way,”
Logos) and the definite article brings
dao into the familiar hermeneutic framework of Western metaphysics, rendering it unilaterally an absolute principle of unity that produces and explains multiplicity.
Dao is thus perceived as independent and outside multiplicity. As we saw above, in some instances
dao is in fact alternatively translated or understood as the Absolute, the One, the Cause, the divine, or even God.
The pun in the original verse of Chapter 1, with the multiple meanings of the character
dao 道 (“way,” “to speak/to be spoken,” and its cognate
dao 導 “to guide/to be guided”), is untranslated and unexplained. Only in one case (
Table 1, T2) does the translator attempt to preserve the alliteration (
logos-legetai λόγος-λέγεται, “speech—it is said/spoken”), and he gives a paradoxical twist to the opening line (Name it Speech [
Logos], but it cannot be spoken), while seeming to focus on the ineffable aspect of
dao and taking the third
dao of the line (
chang dao 常道) as also referring to speech. In the other three translations,
chang 常 is translated with the adjective
aionios αιώνιος (“eternal”) and the adverb
aionia (
ametavlito) αιώνια (αμετάβλητο), meaning “eternally” (“unchanging”), a word often used in the Bible and in Christian theology to describe the eternally existent God.
Dao is thus assigned to a realm beyond time. Seferiadi, in particular, makes a related note in the Appendix. Dao as “being” or “presence” (
you 有) is the source of all things, “outside place and time” (
Seferiadi [1971] 1995, p. 189).
Dao is not translated as
logos in T1 and T3, but the connections with Heraclitean philosophy and Christian theology are still present, as discussed in the previous section. In Greek,
logos λόγος, a concept as vast in scope and versatile in meaning as
dao, is related to spoken language, rationality, and ratio: “what is said,” “word,” “story,” “account,” “mathematical ratio,” “proportion,” “calculation,” “right reckoning,” “reasonable proportion,” “reason,” “cause.” The explicit or assumed relation between
dao and
logos in these translations is an example of a long-standing trend. Discussions on the relation between
dao and
logos abound in both Chinese- and non-Chinese-speaking academia.
26 One of the first Chinese thinkers to discuss the commensurability between
dao and
logos was the writer Qian Zhongshu 錢鐘書 (d. 1998), who argued for the universality of the logical structure of thinking, even though he also acknowledged that thinking can be formulated in time- and culture-specific ways.
27 Many scholars have read the two terms as meant to serve similar purposes and as having cosmological, epistemological, and ethical functions. Among the three translators, Alexakis (T2) is the only one who renders
dao as (capitalized)
Logos, adding three quotes in the footnotes: from the Gospel of John
28, the
Rig Veda29, and Timothy Leary:
Tao is best translated as ‘energy’, as energy in process. Energy in its pure, unstructured state (the E in Einstein’s equation), and energy in its countless temporary states of structure (the M of Einstein’s equation).
30
Here, apart from the connection to Heraclitean
logos and Jesus Christ, the embodied
Logos in Christian theology
31, parallels are also drawn between
dao and Om (ultimate reality) in Hindu philosophy, and, as we saw, with Socratic self-knowledge. Alexakis also offers a lengthy list of alternative nouns and adjectives as possible renderings:
Onoma Όνομα (“Name”),
Noima Νόημα (“Meaning”),
Odos Oδός (“Path,” “Way”),
Pnevma Πνεύμα (“Spirit”),
Aitia Aιτία (“Cause”),
Theos Θεός (“God”),
Nomos Νόμος (“Law”),
Afto Aυτό (“It,” “This”),
Ena Ένα (“One”),
On Oν (“the Being”),
Mi-On Μη-Oν (“the Non-Being”),
Apolyto Aπόλυτο (“Absolute”),
Ateleftito Aτελεύτητο (“Inexhaustible”),
Ametavlito Aμετάβλητο (“Unchanging”),
Einai Είναι (“Being”),
Nous Νους (“Mind”),
Energeia Ενέργεια (“Energy”),
Armonia Aρμονία (“Harmony”), and
Logos Λόγος (“Speech,” “Word,” “Reason”).
32 The numerous references to what are viewed as parallel texts and similar ideas (T2, T3), and the abundance of what are perceived as related or equivalent terms (T2), in the absence of any accompanying explication, mystify rather than clarify aspects of the notion of
dao. Scarce and brief comments such as, “in religion, it [
dao] meant the magical communication with the divine and the spirits” (T2), and “in religion and magic it [
dao] meant communication with the divine and spirits” (T1) (
Seferiadi [1971] 1995, p. 13), intensify the mystification of the specific term and the text as a whole. Lastly, in all three translations there is concern for preserving the text’s aphoristic and poetic style in modern Greek. Examples are Alexakis’s choice of the more poetic
myria μύρια instead of “thousands” for
wan 萬, and
zevgari ζευγάρι (“mating couple”) (
Table 2). The metaphor of human reproduction is used in all three translations (
sheng 生 is rendered with the more vivid
genise/genisan γέννησε/γέννησαν, “it/they gave birth/generated”), whereas there is also attention to metric rhythm, especially in Seferiadi’s translation.
4. De 德: “TE,” “Virtue,” “Power,” “Grace”
De 德 gives its name to the second or, for some scholars, the first part of the
Daodejing33,
Dejing 德經 (The Classic of Power).
De is a central notion, not only in the
Daodejing, but in the entire Chinese tradition. One of the most common translations of
de is “character,” often understood as “good character.” As Lin Yutang 林語堂 (d. 1976) notes, “[a]part from the English, few nations have laid such stress on character in their ideal of education and manhood as the Chinese. The Chinese seem to be so preoccupied with it that in their whole philosophy they have not been able to think of anything else” (
Lin [1935] 1938, p. 42).
De is, however, also understood as having a broader cosmic and political meaning, and it is related to its cognate
de 得 (“to get,” “to receive,” “to attain”), as will be explained below.
On the ontological level,
de and
dao are viewed as two aspects of the same reality. As the root of all things,
dao has a metaphysical quality, but its physical manifestation in the myriad things (
wan wu 萬物) is
de (
Yang 2015, pp. 79–80). Moreover, in the
Daodejing, one of the aspects or expressions of
dao is to serve as a standard of human life, and that aspect is
de. In the political realm,
de describes the virtue a ruler gives forth but also what the ruler receives (
de 得) from the people in return.
De thus denotes the optimal relationship between the ruler and the ruled; it is “both the ‘beneficence’ extended to the people in response to their worth, and the ‘gratitude’ expressed by the people in response to the largesse of a worthy ruler” (
Ames and Hall 2003, p. 76). In English,
de is translated as “virtue,” “virtuosity,” “nature,” “potency,” “power,” “efficacy,” or “excellence,” which generally refer to the potential, power, or individual nature (
shuxing 属性) of each thing (
Chen 2020, p. 14), but also as “moral charisma,” “kindness,” “generosity,” “integrity,” “rewards,” “gratitude,” or “vibes,” which take
de as a kind of virtue, bringing out the ways
de manifests in one’s interaction with the world and others. Scholars have found resemblances between
de and ancient Greek
areti αρετή (“virtue”),
ithos ήθος (“moral character”),
charis χάρις (“grace”),
kalokagathia καλοκαγαθία (“benignity,” “benevolence”),
dynamis δύναμις (“power,” “potential”),
evnoia εύνοια (“favor,” “grace”), and
christotis χρηστότης (“probity,” “decency”).
In this section I look at two key verses on
de from Chapter 21 (
Table 3), which has been characterized as one of the most important if not the most important chapter of the book (
Chan 1963, p. 151), and Chapter 38 (
Table 4). I present the three Greek renderings, offer a brief discussion on some translation choices, and summarize the commentaries identifying instances where the translative trends identified above (reliance on familiar categories and frameworks, mystification, attention to poeticity, and emphasis on current relevance) are most evident. The original text and the three Greek renderings with transcriptions and rough English translations are as follows:
In the three translations we focus on here, de is rendered as “power” (dynami δύναμη) (T1), “virtue” (areti αρετή) (T2), and “grace” (chari χάρη) (T3). Two translations (T1 and T2) follow the division of the text into Daojing 道經 and Dejing 德經, respectively, the latter extending from Chapter 38 to 81. Dejing is translated as Te Kingk Τε Κινγκ (Dejing) (T1), and To Vivlio tis Fysis Το Βιβλίο της Φύσης (The Book of Nature) (Τ4).
As with renderings and explications of the key notion of
dao discussed in the previous section, reliance on familiar notions and frameworks aimed at illuminating the key notion
de and explaining its role in the philosophy of the
Daodejing has instead the effect of mystifying it. Little to no justification for what are seen as common-sensical parallels also adds to this effect, which becomes easily apparent in the supplementary notes and translations of
de. This is perhaps less so in Seferiadi’s translation (T1), which informs the reader about the diverse meanings of
de. She provides the nominal and verbal meaning of
de, and thus assigns both a substantive and a dynamic aspect to the term, rendering it as both “virtue” (
areti αρετή) and “power” (
dynami δύναμη). She explains that
de is “the hidden power, the potentiality inside the seed, the egg, or the field”; “to gain” (
apokto αποκτώ) and “profit/gain” (
kerdos κέρδος); the quality of a thing, its nature; and, finally, “the magical power it radiates” (
Seferiadi [1971] 1995, p. 12). Translating
de as “nature” (
fysi φύση), Seferiadi adds, is also precise and consistent since “TE” (
de), “initially TEK (
tek)” etymologically originates from the ancient word “NTΧΙΕΚ” (
dchiek), which means “to plant.”
34 Still, the translator is relying on the more familiar understanding of etymology in Indo-European languages when she assigns a single etymological root to the character
de. In line with a common interpretation that relates
de to the Greek
areti αρετή (“virtue”), she connects the etymological roots of
de and
areti,
ar-, also found in Aris Άρης (“Mars”),
aristos άριστος (“excellent”), etc., that corresponds to the Latin root
vir- in words such as
virtus (“virtue”). Both of these roots she understands to have the double meaning of “power” and “virtue”.
Seferiadi also notes the different usages of
de in the text. Unlike virtue, the translator explains,
de is not only perceived as positive, since “bad
de can come from a bad thing,” even though TE [
de] is usually good and life-giving” (
Seferiadi [1971] 1995, p. 12), and second, by preserving the paradoxical formulation
shang de bu de 上德不德 in Chapter 38 in the Greek rendering (
Table 4, T1). To this purpose, the words
dynami (“power”) and
areti (“virtue”) are here used negatively: “The highest
de is neither power nor virtue, that’s why it is
de.” In a footnote, Seferiadi offers an alternative translation: “The highest
de is not
de.” In the absence of elaboration on the paradox, however, the term and the verse ultimately remain obscure. Lastly,
cong 從 is given a poetic rendering with ontological implications:
pigazei πηγάζει (“it springs from”), a verb derived from the word
pigi πηγή (“water source”), renders the relation between
de and
dao as one of derivation, as noted above, and thus assigns temporal precedence and supremacy to
dao in relation to
de.
Attempts to explain the paradoxical formulation in Chapter 38 are evident in the other two translations (
Table 4, T2 and T3). The verbs “is displayed” (
provalletai προβάλλεται) (
Table 4, T2) and “appears as” or “shows himself to be” (
deichnetai δείχνεται) (
Table 4, T3) imply that
shang de 上德 is understood as “true” (
alithini αληθινή) and “natural” (
fysiki φυσική)
de (T2), to be displayed, superficial, or pretended 不德
bu de. A connection to the more familiar concept of
areti (“virtue”) is found in T3 (
Table 4). Here, the anthropocentric reading of
de, which is rendered as “he who appreciates virtue,” and the essentialistic understanding of
de as an attribute or quality one possesses (“he has Virtue”), are reminiscent of ancient Greek (Platonic) conceptions of
areti in the broad sense, the essence of specific virtues such as courage, wisdom, etc.
Similarly, Alexakis offers a basic understanding of
de as “going straight to the heart or coming straight from the heart, from the essence.” In his translation and explanatory notes, he seems to further embed
de in a Western paradigm by listing a number of possible meanings for
de:
Dynami Δύναμη (“Power”),
Ousia Oυσία (“Substance”),
Areti Aρετή (“Virtue”),
Gignesthai Γίγνεσθαι (“Becoming”),
Dynatotita Δυνατότητα (“Capability”),
Taxi Τάξη (“Order”),
Drasi Δράση (“Action”),
Axia Aξία (“Value”),
Chari Χάρη (“Grace,” “Favor”),
Agapi Aγάπη (“Love”),
Zoi Ζωή (“Life”),
Fysi Φύση (“Nature”),
doro δώρο (“gift”),
evgnomosyni ευγνωμοσύνη (“gratitude”),
ofelos όφελος (“benefit”), and the medicinal power of plants (
Alexakis 1996, pp. 16–17). Moreover, like Seferiadi, Alexakis also mentions the etymological relation of
de to “to plant” (
tiek τιεκ), which “implies the deeper nature of things where authentic virtue and spontaneous power spring from” (Ibid., p. 16).
De is thus to be understood in terms of a perceived “depth” or as an intrinsic essence, contrasted, as we will see below, with false or inauthentic appearance.
In his translation (
Table 3, T3), Polymeros seems to draw on a similar, and familiar, paradigm of distinction and opposition between “depth” and “surface,” true essence and false appearance, or genuineness and pretense. He offers some explanation on the meaning of the word
kong 孔 (“opening,” “hole,” “great”) as a characterization of
de, juxtaposing Heshang Gong’s and Wang Bi’s readings. The translator opts for Heshang Gong’s reading of
kong 孔 as “great” and translates
kong de 孔德 as “Great Virtue” (
Megali Areti Μεγάλη Aρετή), instead of Wang Bi’s reading of the character
kong 孔 as its homophone
kong 空 (“void,” “empty”). Among the four translators, Polymeros is the only one who translates the character
rong 容 (“capacity,” “volume,” “to contain,” “appearance,” “manner”). He chooses the word “content,” or, more literally, “what is contained” (
periechomeno περιεχόμενο), rather than “what contains.” The word
periechomeno in modern Greek implies a juxtaposition and superiority to a perceived appearance that can be less real, less true, and less valuable. This lexical choice creates associations with the familiar distinction and hierarchy between appearance and reality (e.g., in Parmenides and Plato).
De is thus understood as possessing a content that is hierarchically higher that an implied appearance or semblance of
de, since it is the content of the Great Virtue that follows or models
dao.
The three instances of
de in the first verse of Chapter 38 are translated in similar manners. In two cases (
Table 4, T1 and T2), the translators understand the first instance of
de to be referring to a “highest” (
anotati ανώτατη), “higher” (
anoteri ανώτερη), or “natural” (
fysiki φυσική) virtue, implicitly juxtaposed to a lower, unnatural, or ingenuine kind. Understanding the relation between the first instance of
de (
shang de) and the second as one of opposition and subordination evades the paradox and brings the reading of
de closer to more familiar categories, such as truthfulness, genuineness, integrity of character, and the acquisition of positive character traits or moral excellence. Moreover, in all the translations examined here, the relation between
dao and
de is viewed in terms of a Western metaphysics of universals and particulars, according to which concrete manifestations of specific
de derive from or model a superordinate principle, essence, or universal—
dao.