Representation of Daoist Knowledge Based on Philological Readings: An Analysis of Robert Henricks’ English Translation of Guodian Laozi

Abstract

Robert Henricks’ Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching: A Translation of the Startling New Documents Found at Guodian marks a milestone in Daoist studies and translation history as the first complete English translation of the Guodian Laozi. However, systematic research on Henricks’ version remains limited, particularly regarding its philological foundation and translation strategies. Drawing on the concept of representation, this paper addresses the gap through a descriptive case study of Henricks’ work. By examining Henricks’ philological readings of dating, authorship, chapter divisions, textual variants, and philosophical thoughts, the study shows how he reconstructs and represents Daoist knowledge embedded in the Guodian Laozi. The findings suggest that Henricks, as both a translator and researcher, integrates rigorous philological studies with extensive paratexts, producing a version that both faithfully represents the text and offers new insights into its formation and philosophy. His translation has demonstrated the necessity of philological approaches for rendering Daoist and other ancient Chinese classics.

1. Introduction

The Laozi, also known as the Daodejing, is a representative Chinese Daoist classic and one of “the world’s most ancient and honored books of practical wisdom” (Cleary 1998, p. 2). Succinct in style and profound in philosophical thoughts, the Laozi has acquired worldwide interpretations and translations. By far, the Laozi has been the most translated work in the world second only to the Bible (Goldin 2002; Tan and Huang 2015; A. K. L. Chan 2018; Tadd 2022a), thus making it “the most globalized philosophical work in history” (Tadd 2022a, p. 87). More specifically, there have been 2052 translations of the Laozi, in 97 languages (Tadd 2022b, p. 5), still with new translations keeping forthcoming. Thereinto, the number of the English translations has reached 603 since the first complete English translation1, The Speculations on Metaphysics, Polity, and Morality, of the Old Philosopher, Lau-Tsze by John Chalmers, was published in 1868 (Tadd 2022b, p. 56). Among them, a noteworthy and highly acclaimed version is Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching: A Translation of the Startling New Documents Found at Guodian (hereafter Tao Te Ching) by the American sinologist and theologian Robert Henricks. This version, included in the Translations from the Asian Classics series of Columbia University Press, is groundbreaking in the translation history of the Laozi, as it is the first complete English translation of the newly excavated Guodian Laozi manuscripts (hereafter Guodian Laozi).

Guodian Laozi was unearthed from a Chu tomb dated to roughly 300 B.C. in the village of Guodian 郭店, Jingmen 荊門, Hubei Province in 1993. It contains three separate texts, namely Laozi A, B, and C, as well as a heretofore unknown text called “Taiyi shengshui” 太一生水 (The Great One Generates Water)2, consisting of 39, 18, 14, and 14 bamboo slips, respectively. With only 2046 characters and 31 chapters, it corresponds to roughly 2/5 of the received Laozi. Also, its sequence of chapters and wording vary from those of the transmitted versions. About 150 years earlier than the Mawangdui Silk Laozi found in 1973 (Kohn 2004, p. 78), Guodian Laozi is generally considered by far the earliest known version of the Laozi ever unearthed, and can thus provide new insights into Laozi studies as well as the study of early China. Since its discovery, the Guodian Laozi has attracted extensive scholarly attention worldwide. Notably, shortly after the publication of the Guodian bamboo slips (Guodian Chumu zhujian 郭店楚墓竹簡) by Wenwu Press in early 1998 (Jingmen City Museum 1998), an influential international conference on the Guodian texts was held in May of that year at Dartmouth College, bringing together scholars from China, Japan, the United States, and other countries. The debates and findings presented at this conference significantly shaped subsequent research on the manuscripts. Current research on the Guodian Laozi has primarily focused on philological issues like textual collation, variant analysis, dating, and authorship (Cui 1997; Guo 1998; Gao 2000; D. Liu 2008; Perkins 2019), historical context including excavation work (Peng 2000; Z. Liu 2000), and its relationship to the received text (Xing 1998; X. Liu 2000) and philosophical interpretation (S. Chan 2019; Ikeda 2022). However, compared to the abundant research on the Guodian Laozi itself, studies on its English translations, particularly on Henricks’ translation, remain relatively limited and are often mentioned only briefly in broader discussions (X. Wu 2011; B. Wu 2014). To date, there seems to be hardly any comprehensive research dedicated exclusively to Henricks’ English translation of the Guodian Laozi.

Therefore, to bridge this gap, the present paper conducts a descriptive case study of Henricks’ translation. Drawing on the concept of representation, this paper analyzes Henricks’ translation and its paratexts to clarify the philological readings he employed in his Guodian Laozi version, and further examines how he represents Daoist knowledge, with the goal of shedding light on the translation of the Laozi as well as other Chinese classics.

2. Representation and Paratext in Translation

The concept of representation derives from Cultural Studies, which, together with the concept of ideology, is pivotal for the analysis of society and culture. Cultural theorist Hall (1997, pp. 15–16) initially described representation as “an essential part of the process by which meaning is produced and exchanged between members of a culture” through “the use of language, of signs and images which stand for or represent things”. These meanings, in Hall’s view, are “not fixed, final or true” (ibid., p. 61). This constructionist approach views representation as the production of meaning through discourse, rather than as a passive reflection or imitation of preexisting truth or as a simple expression of authorial intention (ibid., pp. 24–25). Within this framework, Foucault’s (1981) discursive approach extends this view, arguing that discourse, understood as “a group of statements which provide a language for talking about, a way of representing knowledge about, a particular topic at a particular historical moment” (Hall 1997, p. 44), produces knowledge rather than merely meaning (ibid., pp. 42–43). Representation, therefore, is not only about signification but also about how knowledge is produced, legitimized, and circulated within a culture. This insight is particularly relevant for translation studies, as translation itself, being a discursive practice, undertakes the task of reconstructing knowledge across cultures. This study therefore adopts a discursive approach to translation, viewing it as a representational act through which knowledge is reconstructed and negotiated.

Following this view of translation as a discursive reconstruction of knowledge, many scholars (Lewis 1985; Cheung 2005, 2009; Tymoczko 2007) have long seen translation as a form of representation shaped by discourses. In light of this, J. Liu (2019, p. 445) follows these scholars in claiming that the translation of classics is a process in which the translator represents, constructs, or produces new knowledge of the classics through various discourses. Paratexts, as Huang (2018, p. 74) notes, constitute a domain where translators exert influence beyond the translation proper. According to Genette (1997, p. 1), paratexts are “what enables a text to become a book and to be offered as such to its readers and, more generally, to the public”, encompassing peritext (titles, subtitles, forewords, prefaces, notes, afterwords) and epitext (reviews, interviews, correspondence, and other external materials) (ibid., p. xviii). In translation studies, paratexts are thus seen as “consciously crafted thresholds” that shape the reception of translated texts (Batchelor 2018, p. 142), carrying the “translator’s voice” (Hermans 1996, p. 23) and embedded discourses that mediate the representation of source-text knowledge (Tahir Gürçağlar 2011, p. 113). Thus, paratexts function not merely as supplementary materials but as active sites where translators negotiate cultural meanings and represent knowledge across linguistic and ideological boundaries.

As regards Henricks’ translation of the Guodian Laozi, it carries multiple paratextual elements shaped by different discourses. This paper, therefore, employs the concept of representation as an analytical framework to examine the philological discourses embedded in Henricks’ translation and its paratexts. Through this analysis, the study explores how Henricks constructs and represents Daoist knowledge regarding the Laozi’s date and authorship, textual structure, and philosophical interpretation.

3. Philological Readings: Representation of “Original or New” Daoist Knowledge

Based completely on the Guodian Laozi, Henricks’ Tao Te Ching is different from other versions as it incorporates new findings and interpretations based on the latest research of the bamboo manuscripts unearthed from the Chu tomb. In other words, Henricks’ version is characterized by thick translation (Appiah 1993) with profound academic research, belonging to one of the three types of the available translations of the Laozi divided by Knierim (2004, p. 5), that is, “scholarly and heavily commented”. Acting as both a translator and researcher, Henricks not only translates, but also conducts an extensive philological study on the Guodian Laozi with the help of diverse paratexts, such as informative introduction, detailed comments and notes, extensive (end)notes, and thematic appendices (see

Table 1. Types and numbers of paratexts in Henricks’ translation of the Guodian Laozi.

Preface	Translator’s Notes	Introduction	Comments and Notes	Notes *	Appendix	Bibliography	Index
1	2	1	123	305	3	89	289

* The notes in the introduction and appendix are included.

), thus fostering a deeper understanding of the text among readers. It is worth noting that Henricks was no newcomer to excavated manuscripts when he approached the Guodian texts. His scholarly foundation had already been established through his earlier translation and study of the Mawangdui Laozi, which equipped him with a critical comparative perspective and a refined philological methodology. These prior experiences directly informed his interpretation of the Guodian Laozi. Specifically, Henricks is very meticulous in version comparison and textual criticism, akin to an archeological endeavor, as noted by Alt (1994) and Kohn (2004). This approach aligns with his initial motivation for translating the Guodian Laozi, which may parallel his intent for the Mawangdui Laozi, namely, “to call attention, chapter by chapter, to where these texts differ from transmitted, received texts (and from each other), and to place the Ma-wang-tui readings in the context of other variants we have for the text” (Henricks 1984, pp. 179–80). Meanwhile, Henricks’ efforts have garnered widespread acclaim within the academic community. For example, Kohn (2004, p. 79) asserts that Henricks’ book “provides us with a truly encyclopedic access to this exciting new find” and “is very informative and highly suitable for both scholars and general readers”. Similarly, Victor Mair commends that “Henricks’ book is a model for the presentation and analysis of archeologically recovered texts” (cf. Henricks 2000, back cover). Cook (2012, p. 183) went further in praising Henricks’ translation, remarking that “Henricks’ ‘Laozi’ translations are in every respect first-rate”.

Philological studies or readings, placing the text back into its “original linguistic, historical, social, religious, and cultural contexts” (Shen 2019, p. 60), mainly address “the format of the text overall, its phrases and variants in punctuation, and the specific meaning of individual words” (Robinet 1998, p. 126). However, “philological interpretations, whether discussing format, punctuation, or individual words and phrases, are never just that. Instead of remaining mere textual notes, they always lead to theoretical speculation” (ibid., p. 130). This process of speculation, as Shen (2019, p. 388) argues, aims to faithfully reproduce the text’s original meaning, thereby enabling its interpretation. Also, as Henricks observes in the Introduction, “in attempting to understand what these three bundles are, we must pay attention to what is and what is not included in these bundles in terms of the ‘philosophy’ of the text” (Henricks 2000, p. 17), philological study is very necessary and important for interpreting the philosophy of the Guodian Laozi, as well as for representing the original or new Daoist knowledge.

When it comes to Henricks’ Tao Te Ching, his philological analysis focuses primarily on textual variants, wording, punctuation, dating, authorship, chapter division, and philosophical interpretation. Building on this, the present paper will examine how Henricks’ philological readings attempt to represent original or new Daoist knowledge.

3.1. Single Authorship or Not: Representation of the Laozi’s Date and Authorship

As Henricks notes in the opening of the Introduction, quoting Wing-tsit Chan’s observation that “Few controversies in modern Chinese history have lasted longer and involved more scholars than that concerning Lao Tzu, the man, and Lao Tzu, the book” (Henricks 2000, p. 1), the ongoing debate regarding the dating and authorship of the Laozi shows no signs of resolution. However, the excavation of the Guodian Laozi has introduced new evidence to this debate. Henricks discusses this in detail in his translation.

Earlier in the Introduction, he provides a concise overview of the historical controversies surrounding the text’s dating and authorship, setting the stage for his philologically grounded reappraisal. He examines the traditional Chinese view—namely, single authorship by the “Old Master” (Laozi) living contemporaneously with Confucius in the early 5th century B.C.—alongside various modern perspectives. These include the views of the young scholars writing in China in the 1920s and 1930s, as well as those of prominent figures such as D. C. Lau, Angus C. Graham, Chen Guying (陳鼓應), Li Xueqin (李學勤), Guo Yi (郭沂), and Xing Wen (邢文). To be specific, challenging the traditional view, the young scholars in the 1920s and 1930s held that the Laozi was produced during the “Warring States” period, while D. C. Lau argued that the book was an anthology, compiled by more than one hand, no later than 300 B.C. (Henricks 2000, p. 2). Graham, however, posited that “the Laozi appeared anonymously in China around 250 B.C.” (ibid.). In contrast, Chen Guying and Li Xueqin reverted to the traditional view, contending that the Laozi was the work of one person and one time (ibid., pp. 2–3). Guo Yi, however, proposed that there were two different Laozis in ancient China—the first written by Li Er (李耳) or Li Dan (李聃) around Confucius’ time, and the second written by another Dan (儋), the Grand Historian of Zhou, who met the Duke Xian of Qin in 374 B.C. (ibid., pp. 20–21). After reviewing these viewpoints, Henricks proposed his own perspective based on philological evidence.

On the one hand, Henricks examines the dating and authorship of the Laozi at a macro-level using the physical characteristics of the Guodian slips and their archeological context. In the section titled “The Site: Location and Date of the Tomb” within the Introduction, he examines the tomb’s date on the basis of a published excavation report, which dates the tomb to the late fourth or early third century B.C. according to its orientation, style, design and types of burial objects (Henricks 2000, p. 4). From this, he concludes that the Guodian Laozi “was buried around 300 B.C.” (ibid., p. 22). This means the Guodian Laozi predates 300 B.C. Additionally, based on the “high quality of the calligraphy on the slips”, which indicates that “these were not done in a ‘slap-dash’ fashion to be put into a tomb” (ibid., p. 204), Henricks further infers that the Guodian Laozi may date back even earlier, possibly “as early as 350 B.C.” (ibid., p. 22). Moreover, noting the marked differences in the size and style of the three bundles, Henricks remains unconvinced that “the three taken together were understood as a ‘text’” (ibid., p. 21). Rather, he argues that the Guodian Laozi bundles represent “copies” of copies, derived from at least three, and perhaps more, different originals (ibid., p. 22). This view is reinforced by the case of “Taiyi shengshui”, which is absent from the received versions but Henricks classifies as part of Laozi C because the “Taiyi” slips are “the same length and style as the slips in Laozi C, and the calligraphy is the same” (ibid., p. 8). Collectively, this evidence challenges the notion of the early Laozi as a self-contained, 81-chapter book, representing it instead as part of a fluid intellectual tradition, and supports dating the original Laozi, or at least some versions of the text, to well before 300 B.C.

On the other hand, Henricks approaches the dating and authorship of the Laozi at a micro-level by analyzing linguistic features and textual content. For instance, by comparing the different versions, Henricks observes that the Guodian Laozi omits the line—“Repay resentment with kindness” (bao yuan yi de, 報怨以徳), normally line 5 in Chapter 63 of the received versions, which is often “brought forth as evidence that the Laozi was in existence at the time of Confucius” (Henricks 2000, pp. 16–17). Its absence, Henricks contends, instead demonstrates that the Laozi had not yet been completed at the time of Confucius. Furthermore, based on his examination of specific wording in the Guodian Laozi, Henricks suggests that the text was compiled from different sources. One compelling example is his observation that the second part of Chapter 64 appears in both the Guodian Laozi A and C manuscripts, yet presents distinct versions. Based on this comparative textual analysis, Henricks (ibid., p. 21) argues that “I can think of no reason why a unified text would include two different versions of the same exact chapter”. He therefore endorses Roth’s claim that “the three bundles of bamboo strips that contain the Kuo Tien Lao Tzu material did not even come from the same source” (Roth 2000, p. 74). In a further example, Henricks (2000, p. 22) points out that “in unit 1 of Laozi A, dao (the ‘Way’) is written until we reach chapter 32 in the unit (the final chapter), when it suddenly changes to 道”. In a note on this, he points out another key variation, “in Laozi A and Laozi B the negative ‘without’ is consistently written as 亡 (wang), as it is in the Shang oracle bones, while in Laozi C, the more familiar character 無 (wu) is used” (ibid., p. 204). Henricks holds that these variations, coupled with “a blank space left on the slip between the end of chapter 2 (A:9) and the beginning of chapter 32 (A:10)” (ibid., p. 204). This textual evidence reinforces the view that the manuscript was compiled from multiple, distinct pre-existing versions.

In sum, Henricks, through detailed philological analysis, concludes that the Guodian Laozi slips are “copies” of “copies”, rather than “original writing”, indicating that slightly different versions of the Laozi were in circulation prior to 300 B.C. (Henricks 2000, p. 22). Although the find does not settle the debate over the date and authorship of the Laozi, it does allow for a cut-off date, namely, no later than 300 B.C. Moreover, it directly challenges the traditional view that the Laozi was written and largely finalized by Laozi during the late Spring and Autumn period. The find also lends stronger support to the perspective that the Laozi evolved over a long period through the accumulation of diverse materials. Its ultimate “author(s)” were likely groups of compilers or editors rather than a single writer, as it is difficult to imagine a single author leaving the above-mentioned internally inconsistent traces. In this way, based on his paratextual discussion of historical evidence, Henricks represents the Guodian Laozi not as a work of single authorship, thereby constructing a knowledge claim about its origin. This finding corroborates other research and provides both evidence and methodological guidance for future studies, especially for more precise work on the dating and authorship of the Laozi.

3.2. 81 Chapters or Not: Representation of the Laozi’s Textual Structure

The challenge of dividing and sequencing the bamboo slips is compounded by the fact that some of them were broken and the entire collection was in disarray upon discovery at the burial site. Furthermore, the manuscripts lacked original chapter numbers and titles, which were subsequently assigned by the editors. Therefore, dividing and sequencing the chapters of the Laozi have been subject to extensive scholarly debate, yielding a variety of differing viewpoints. These divergent viewpoints arise from the application of different methodological principles, ranging from historical comparison to internal textual analysis. Regarding this issue, Henricks has conducted a detailed discussion and expressed his perspectives in his translation, with the help of paratexts. For instance, he has dedicated two sections—“Punctuation and the Issue of Chapter Divisions” in the Introduction and Appendix III, entitled “Punctuation Marks and Determination of Chapter Divisions”—to specifically exploring this issue.

Henricks, in his earlier research on the chapter divisions of the Laozi, remarks that his discussion on this matter generally follows two main lines: “(1) an examination of sources on the Lao-tzu to see what has been said over the years about the chapter divisions in the text, and (2) my own close reading of the text to see where I would break the text and on what grounds” (Henricks 1982, p. 502). In a similar manner, Henricks adopts the same approach in this study. To be specific, in the section titled “Punctuation and the Issue of Chapter Divisions” in the Introduction, he first reviews various methods for dividing the text throughout Chinese history, such as the 81-chapter structure proposed by Liu Xiang, Yan Zun’s 72-chapter division, and Wu Cheng’s 68-chapter arrangement. In the endnote attached to this discussion, Henricks also refers readers to his own article on the subject for fuller documentation. This reference guides readers in comparing different views and facilitates further research (Huang et al. 2019, p. 241). Beyond simply documenting the chapter divisions, his scholarly analysis sheds light on their underlying motivations and meanings. For instance, Henricks offers his insights on the 81-chapter division, noting that while there is no general consensus on the optimal method, “eighty-one remained the most popular number of chapter divisions, and it is the number of chapters we find in most editions of the Laozi today” (Henricks 2000, p. 9). However, he also points out its limitations, specifically that the number 81 was derived from Yin–Yang speculation rather than from the ideas and rhymes of the Laozi. Consequently, this led Henricks to speculate about the chapter divisions of the Laozi, based on evidence from the text itself. This focus on text-internal, micro-level clues is a core feature of Henricks’ framework for interpreting the Guodian Laozi’s chapter division and sequence. Specifically, unlike macro-historical studies such as D. Liu’s (2008), which traced the evolutionary trajectory of the Laozi’s structure across versions (bamboo slips, silk manuscripts, Wang Bi’s commentary), Henricks confined his analysis to the granular evidence provided by the Guodian slips themselves. This approach was rooted in the unique nature of the Guodian Laozi: it is not a complete version of the Laozi, but an excerpted compilation of Laozi passages, as Henricks established in the preceding section, and later corroborated by D. Liu (2008) through cross-version analysis.

Based on philological readings, Henricks demonstrates that punctuation is a significant tool for dividing the Laozi into chapters. Unlike classical Chinese texts, which typically lack punctuation and require readers to parse sentences and phrases themselves—thereby shaping meaning through their own interpretive breaks (Robinet 1998, p. 127), the Guodian slips “are peppered with punctuation” (Henricks 2000, p. 10). As Rainey (2006, p. 352) notes, Henricks “discusses it [punctuation] clearly in terms of what one can find in original manuscripts generally and in the Guodian Laozi in particular”. In his Introduction, Henricks (2000, p. 10) summarizes the four types of marks used in the Guodian Laozi to signal chapter divisions: a sign made up of two short strokes or lines (=), used to indicate character repetition; a thin short line, like a dash or hyphen (), dividing sections within chapters; a small black square (■), normally marking the end of a chapter; and a distinct sign (), denoting the conclusion of a pian (篇) within the entire document. However, Henricks also notes that these punctuation marks cannot definitively resolve all chapter divisions due to their inconsistent application and exceptions in the Guodian Laozi. For example, in Chapters 46 and 30, “the thin line normally used internally in chapters at the end of sentences or sections seems to indicate the end of the chapter”, and “marks are sometimes used where they do not belong” (ibid., p. 10).

Building on this foundation, Henricks identifies some other methodological indicators for chapter divisions through further textual analysis, such as ideas and message, rhymes, and structural patterns. To begin with, he observes that passages containing erroneous punctuation marks may be divided based on their ideas and messages. This approach is exemplified in the division between Chapters 46 and 30. The last line of Chapter 46 is separated from the first line of Chapter 30 by a dash or hyphen, a mark originally used to divide different sections of chapters. However, since the two chapters are “clearly distinct in terms of ideas and message”, Henricks infers this punctuation mark must “indicate the end of a chapter” (Henricks 2000, p. 190). Similarly, passages lacking any punctuation can be divided the same way, as seen between Chapters 66 and 46. Although “no punctuation separates the end of chapter 66 from the start of chapter 46”, Henricks argues that “chapter 46 is ‘self-contained’ in terms of ideas…and is clearly distinct in message from chapter 66” (ibid., p. 189). Beyond conceptual unity, features like “continuation of rhyme” (ibid., p. 201) can also help to divide chapters. For instance, Henricks (ibid., p. 40) holds that in Chapter 15 of the Guodian Laozi, the last three lines (lines 11–13) appear to form a separate passage, despite the presence of a black square normally indicating the end of a chapter at the end of line 11. This conclusion rests on his observation that lines 11–13 form a clear rhymed unit, rhyming successively on qing (清), sheng (生), and ying (浧) (ibid., p. 190). Consequently, the black square at the end of line 11 is likely misplaced, and “chapter 15 was meant to end at the end of line 10—which is where the black square belongs” (ibid., p. 190). Finally, Henricks contends that structural patterns should inform chapter division. One case in point is Chapter 59. While a black square after line 4 of Chapter 59 suggests lines 1–4 and 5–9 are separate sayings, Henricks maintains that structure and wording demonstrate their unity. He points to the parallel structure in lines 4–7, arguing the correct marker should be double lines (=) indicating repetition: “line 4 ends with the words wu buke (無不克), the same words that begin line 5” (ibid., p. 193). Similarly, in Chapter 32, the black square at the end of line 4 suggests that “lines 1–4 and lines 5–12 should be regarded as two distinct passages or ‘chapters’” (ibid., p. 53) Nevertheless, the meaning of lines 11–12 parallels that of lines 1–4—with the latter expressing more directly what the former conveys metaphorically. Their syntactic structures also show similarities; for instance, the concept of “having names” (you ming, 有名) introduced in line 7 explicitly contrasts with the “namelessness” (wu ming, 無名) of the Way established in line 1 (ibid., p. 53). Due to these thematic and structural connections, later editions of the Laozi treat these two sections as a single chapter (ibid., p. 53). It should be noted, however, that these indicators are not mutually exclusive but function most effectively when integrated. Drawing on punctuation, idea, wording, and syntactic structure, Henricks (ibid., p. 11) argues that “Chapters 17 and 18 [of the received version] are clearly a single chapter in the Guodian slips”. He found that they flowed continuously without intervening punctuation, terminating only with a black square after what is conventionally labeled Chapter 18; the first line of “chapter 18”, namely, line 9 of the Guodian Laozi C:1, begins with the word gu (古=故, therefore), signaling conceptual continuity with preceding lines (1–8); and the lines further exhibit structural unity through their consistent eight-character meter and parallel syntactic construction (ibid., p. 195). Collectively, this evidence confirms his conclusion that Chapters 17 and 18 form a unified chapter.

Based on the methods or indicators discussed above, Henricks proposes five tentative conclusions regarding the chapter divisions of the Guodian Laozi: (1) chapters that are already complete; (2) chapters that are slightly longer in later editions; (3) passages that have been expanded to form the chapters as we found them in later editions; (4) two chapters that were combined into one in later editions; and (5) one chapter that was split into two in later editions (Henricks 2000, pp. 10–11). These five categories, derived from his philological framework, challenge the presumption of the 81-chapter structure as a normative standard and demonstrate the fluidity and complexity of the Laozi’s early textual form.

Regarding chapter sequence, Henricks provides an analysis, noting that although the original order of the slips cannot be established in the absence of numbering or explicit markers, the internal continuity of the Laozi passages offers important clues (Henricks 2000, p. 6). Specifically, when a passage continues from the bottom of one slip onto the top of the next, it indicates their sequential connection. In Laozi A, for example, five chapters begin at the top of individual slips, which allows the thirty-nine slips to be grouped into five distinct “units”, each consisting of slips demonstrably connected in sequence. In terms of the units, Henricks (ibid., p. 7) suggests that they are largely organized according to thematic coherence, a view also supported by Wang (1999) and consistent with D. Liu’s (2008) finding that the Guodian Laozi’s part-sequence reflected “thematic clustering”. Although the overall order of these units remains uncertain, Henricks’ philological method has proposed new perspectives to the chapter sequence of the Laozi.

Taken together, Henricks represents a new knowledge about the organization of the Laozi grounded not in the comparative evolution across versions but in the material and linguistic features of the Guodian slips themselves. Henricks’ framework is innovative not because it “extends” later scholarship but because it pioneers a manuscript-specific, philologically rigorous method for a text that had previously lacked targeted chapter division/sequence solutions.

3.3. Anti-Confucian or Not: Representation of Daoist Philosophy

The notion that the Laozi could have been compatible with Confucian thought was previously inconceivable before the discovery of the Guodian manuscripts in 1993. However, as Ames and Hall (2003, p. xi) note, “The recent recovery of new versions of existing texts…has provided both a pretext and an opportunity for philosophers to step up and rethink our standard readings”, recent archeological findings in Guodian have opened new directions for research into the philosophy of the Laozi as well as the dynamic relationship between Daoist and Confucian thoughts. In this new context, Henricks has undertaken a reinterpretation of the Laozi’s philosophy, grounding his work in meticulous philological research on textual variants across different editions. This approach aligns with Robinet’s (1998) observation that interpreting the Laozi has long been a site of “ideological negotiation”, where philological choices are inherently tied to positioning Daoist thought relative to other traditions. The pervasive textual variations between editions of the Laozi, often resulting from its inconsistent transmission, significantly affect the text’s core ideas and their interpretation. One notable example is the “Taiyi shengshui”. Through textual analysis, he demonstrates this text’s profound connection to the Laozi’s cosmology, arguing that the concept of “Taiyi”, which does not appear in the received version, is interchangeable with concepts like “Dao” and “One” (Henricks 2000, p. 124). Furthermore, by situating the “Taiyi shengshui” within the broader context of early Chinese texts like the Lüshi Chunqiu 呂氏春秋and the “Li yun” (禮運) chapter of Liji 禮記, Henricks represents new knowledge about the worship of “Taiyi” and the evolution of Daoist cosmology.

In Henricks’ version, the variants among editions, especially among the three editions, namely, the Guodian, Mawangdui, and Wang Bi editions, are explored in most detail so as to represent the “original” look of the Laozi and better understand its philosophy. Henricks has done this mainly through such paratexts as introduction, comments and notes in each chapter, appendix, and (end)notes. Henricks, for example, provides a detailed line-by-line comparison of the variants contained in the aforementioned three editions in Appendix II of the translation, titled “Line-by-Line Comparisons”. This illustrates the Laozi’s possible textual evolution and creates an intertextual dialogue that enhances understanding of both its form and meaning. In addition, Henricks makes heavy use of comments and footnotes throughout each chapter. In total, the translation features 123 such explanatory notes, with a significant number addressing differences across various editions, including punctuation, characters, wording, and line sequence. This is prominently reflected in the frequent appearance of expressions in the footnotes such as “in later editions, this line normally reads”, “all other editions have”, “in all other editions of the Laozi, this line says,” and “in most later editions, this line is”. This practice exemplifies what Robinet (1998) emphasizes that textual variants are not just philological accidents but windows into how a commentator represents Daoist knowledge. This is clearly illustrated in Henricks’ handling of critical variants. For instance, regarding the fourth line of the Guodian Laozi A: 19 (Chapter 40), Henricks notes in his commentary on this line that there are two different transcriptions: “The things of the world arise from being, and they arise from non-being” (天下萬物生於有, 生於無), and “The things of the world arise from being, and being comes from non-being” (天下萬物生於有, 有生於無). Although these two transcriptions differ by only one character-—he presence or absence of “being” (you, 有)—they have significant differences in philosophical implications. In considering these two perspectives, Henricks aligns himself with the latter one, asserting that “being arises from non-being”, based on his consultation of Guodian Chumu zhujian published by Wenwu Press (Jingmen City Museum 1998). He further argues that “with the Wenwu editors, I think this is a mistake; the copyist simply forgot to add the sign for ‘repetition’ (=) after the you in line 3” (Henricks 2000, p. 77). Also, Henricks provides target readers with Chen Guying’s view on the former perspective in this commentary and further directs them to Chen’s more detailed account in the endnote, thereby offering more information for a dialectical and deeper interpretation of the philosophical thoughts of the Laozi. In an additional note on Line 5 of the Guodian Laozi B:2 (Chapter 48), Henricks challenges the view that the concept of “doing nothing, and yet there being nothing left undone” (wuwei er wubuwei, 無為而無不為) is not of Daoist origin, but a saying developed in Legalist texts making its way into the Laozi in the late Warring States period or the early Han Dynasty. Instead, he confirms its Daoist roots through philological analysis, noting its presence in the Guodian version, despite its absence from the Mawangdui and other transmitted Laozi manuscripts (ibid., pp. 87–88). With these comments and notes, which are of scholarly interest and based on Henricks’ intensive research into the Laozi, readers can more easily make contextual connections, facilitating a deeper understanding of the Laozi’s original form, textual development, and core philosophy.

Moreover, Henricks, in the lengthy Introduction, not only offers a comprehensive overview of the archeological find and the contexts in which the find can be evaluated (for example, the tomb’s location and dating, the unearthed texts, and the three bundles of bamboo slip Laozi), but also provides a summary of the philosophical thoughts contained within the Guodian Laozi. By posing probing questions such as, “Do the passages cited mention the Dao, the ‘Way’? Is the Way fully described as the source of heaven and earth and the ten thousand things?” (Henricks 2000, p. 17), he scrutinizes the philosophical content of the Guodian Laozi, delving into what it embraces and what it omits. He discovers that the Guodian Laozi presents “a surprisingly well-grounded treatment of Daoist thought as we know it from the Laozi given the fact that we are dealing with only two-fifths of the text” (ibid.). For instance, such core Daoist concepts as “nonaction” (wuwei, 無為)3, “to serve without concern for affairs” (wushi, 無事), and “to know when it is time to stop” (zhizhi, 知止) are relatively fully developed in the text. Nevertheless, Henricks concludes “the Philosophy of the ‘Bamboo Slip Laozi’” section of the Introduction by pointing out some philosophical concepts omitted or not very fully treated in the Guodian Laozi, like the “Dao”, “One”, and “Way of heaven”, thereby prompting readers to contemplate the implications of these omissions on the interpretation of Laozi’s philosophy and thus paving the way for further philosophical analysis.

Based on this, Henricks delves deeper into these omissions and variations in the Guodian Laozi to further elucidate its philosophical ideas, in line with Robinet’s (1998) thesis on the ideological function of philological evidence. In the Guodian corpus, Chapter 19 perhaps stands out as one of the most prominent and significant sources of variations, where the character variants fundamentally change the meaning of the text. This chapter in the Mawangdui Laozi, and in various transmitted editions like the Heshanggong and Wang Bi editions, has similar wording and normally reads:

絕聖棄智，民利百倍。

絕仁棄義，民復孝慈。

絕巧棄利，盜賊無有。

Eliminate sageliness, get rid of knowledge,

And the people will benefit a hundredfold.

Eliminate humanity, get rid of righteousness,

And the people will return to filial piety and compassion.

Eliminate craftiness, get rid of profit,

And there will be no robbers and thieves.4

While the Guodian form of this chapter is as follows:

絕知棄辨，民利百倍。

絕巧棄利，盜賊無有。

絕化棄慮，絕復孝慈。

Eliminate knowledge, get rid of distinctions,

And the people will benefit one hundredfold.

Eliminate artistry, get rid of profit,

And there will be no robbers and thieves.

Eliminate transformation, get rid of deliberation,

And the people will return to filial piety and compassion.

(Henricks 2000, p. 28)

It can be seen that among the opening lines of this chapter, “Eliminate knowledge, get rid of distinctions” in the Guodian edition was replaced with “Eliminate sageliness, get rid of knowledge” in all later editions. “Eliminate artistry, get rid of profit”, which is made the second sentence in the Guodian edition, was replaced with “Eliminate humanity, get rid of righteousness”. These alterations suggest that key Confucian concepts such as “sageliness” (sheng, 聖), “humanity” (ren, 仁), and “righteousness” (yi, 義), which are severely criticized in the later editions of Laozi, are absent from the bamboo slips. Consequently, Chapter 19 in the Guodian version has no sentences that attack Confucian ethics and therefore, it “appears to be much less ‘anti-Confucian’ than the chapter 19 in all later editions of Laozi” (Henricks 2000, p. 13). Meanwhile, this is also frequently cited by scholars as evidence that the Guodian Laozi is not anti-Confucian or is not strongly anti-Confucian.

However, as Henricks notes in the comments and notes on Lines 1–6 in Chapter 19, “I do not think that is true, as I have argued in the introduction” (Henricks 2000, p. 28), he contends that the Guodian edition is “still very ‘anti-Confucian’” (ibid., p. 15), as when he examines other parts of the text, there are still some sentences resenting Confucian ethical norms. For example, the Guodian versions of Chapters 37 and 57 are contradictory to the Confucian concept of “morally transforming the people through education” (jiaohua, 教化). In Chapters 37 and 57, there are statements such as “道恆無為也” (the way constantly takes no action), “而萬物將自化” (and the ten thousand things transform on their own), “萬物將自定” (and the ten thousand things will be stable all on their own), and “我無為, 而民自化” (I do nothing, and the people transform on their own), which means that “the Daoist ruler ‘does nothing, and the people transform on their own’ (wuwei er min zihua, 無為而民自化)” (ibid., p. 15). However, the concept of “morally transforming the people through education” stands as a fundamental feature and an important part of Confucianism, shaping its philosophical core (Li 2006, p. 11). In this context, “‘filial piety’ and ‘compassion’ are virtues that require ‘transformation through education’ (jiaohua, 教化)” (Henricks 2000, p. 202), a notion that stands in stark contrast to the advocacy found in the Guodian form of Chapter 19, which posits, “絕化棄慮5, 絕復孝慈 (Eliminate transformation, get rid of deliberation, and the people will return to filial piety and compassion)”.

Moreover, drawing on the Chinese exegetics, Henricks transcribes Lines 9–11 of Chapters 17 and 18 in the Guodian Laozi C as:

故大道廢安有仁義；

六親不和安有孝慈；

邦家昏亂安有正臣。

Therefore, when the Great Way is rejected, it is then that “humanity” and “righteousness” show up on the scene;

When the six relations are not in harmony, it is then what we hear of “filial piety” and “compassion”;

And when the state is in chaos and disarray, it is then that there is praise for the “upright officials.”

(Henricks 2000, p. 112).

In this passage, fundamental Confucian virtues—“humanity”, “righteousness”, “filial piety”, and “compassion”—are portrayed as inferior to the Daoist concept of Dao, which seemingly delivers a negative critique of Confucian philosophy.

Therefore, based on the aforementioned philological study, Henricks concludes that the Guodian Laozi is generally still anti-Confucian. However, as regards the variants in Chapter 19, Henricks provides a plausible explanation in the Introduction:

I am inclined to think that the Guodian wording is the original wording and that the words “sageliness” and “humanity and righteousness” were later inserted as substitutions, possibly as a way of making the chapter a statement against the philosophy of Mencius (fl. 350 B.C.). As we know, Mencius was fond of talking about “ren and yi,” and, unlike his master Confucius, he believed that everyone had the potential to become a “Sage.”

(Henricks 2000, p. 14).

In light of this, He contends that Chapter 19 is “not yet ‘anti-Mencian’” (Henricks 2000, p. 15). This viewpoint stems directly from the philosophical differences between Confucius and Mencius regarding “ren”, “yi”, and “sheng”. Notably, the paired term “ren and yi” (仁義) only emerged during Mencius’ era. Moreover, the very concepts of “ren”, “yi”, and “sheng”—which are condemned in later Laozi editions—are actually more prominent in the Mencian texts. Lastly, unlike Confucius, Mencius elevated “ren” to a moral metaphysics of human nature, championed “ren and yi” against the utilitarian trends of the Warring States period, and proclaimed that “every individual can attain Sagehood”.

To sum up, through his philological analysis of textual variants, conveyed primarily through paratextual materials, Henricks portrays the Guodian Laozi as contextually anti-Confucian yet not anti-Mencian. In doing so, he represents a new knowledge of its philosophy and of the relationship between Daoism and Confucianism, thereby exemplifying Robinet’s (1998) thesis of grounding ideological claims in philological evidence.

4. Conclusions

Henricks’ translation of the Guodian Laozi is not merely a representative example of scholarly “thick” translation, but also a paradigmatic case of knowledge representation in cross-cultural classic translation, distinguished by its extensive paratextual materials, rigorous philological analysis, and textual criticism (Xin 2008, p. 218). This may be attributed to his solid academic background and his thorough research in Eastern philosophy and religions (Bebell and Fera 2000, p. 137). Through the lens of representation and paratext, this paper examines how Henricks utilizes paratexts including a detailed introduction, commentaries, notes, and appendices, to conduct a philological reading of the Guodian Laozi, thereby representing both the original or new Daoist knowledge.

To be specific, Henricks first challenges the traditional view of single authorship of the Laozi, arguing through textual and archeological evidence that the Guodian manuscripts are copies of different originals, thereby supporting the theory of a text that evolved over time and was likely compiled by multiple editors, with a definitive dating of no later than 300 B.C. His philological readings of punctuation, rhyme, and thematic coherence provides a new framework for understanding the chapter division and sequence of the Laozi, moving beyond the traditional 81-chapter structure imposed by later Yin–Yang speculation. Most significantly, through a comparison of textual variants, Henricks represents the philosophical stance of the Guodian Laozi that it remains anti-Confucian in philosophy, albeit less strident. He further introduces a key distinction, proposing that later alterations were a reaction against Mencian thought, making the original text anti-Confucian but not yet anti-Mencian.

While Henricks’ translation does not resolve all controversies, such as exactly when and how the Laozi was composed, the exact identity of the authors or the precise chronology of the text’s compilation, and further conclusions may remain tentative until new forms of evidence become available (Cook 2012, p. 216), this in no way diminishes its value. On the contrary, its core contribution lies in demonstrating how philological rigor enables accurate representation of ancient Daoist knowledge, providing a solid evidential foundation and methodological reference for subsequent research. His Tao Te Ching demonstrates that when a translation is enriched with rigorous scholarly paratexts, it can represent and disseminate knowledge. It not only offers insights for further studies of the Laozi but also provides inspiration for the translation of philosophical classics, illustrating that a philological approach combining research and translation is both necessary and highly effective for the translation of ancient classics.