Talking Chan the Long Way Round
Xuedou's verses already circle the old cases instead of explaining them, and Yuanwu then circles the verses. Whether that much speech can point past speech is what every chapter puts to the test.
Yuanwu says it plainly in the first case: verses on old cases only talk Chan the long way round. So he talks too, at three depths. An introduction sets the problem before the case is read, capping phrases of a few words jab at line after line of case and verse, and a prose commentary tells the background, unpacks Xuedou's allusions and lists the ways monks get the case wrong. Then he takes it back: whoever still reasons the case out, he warns, will see it burst into seven flowers and eight cracks.
- language
- interpretation
- koan
- conceptual thought
- understanding
- paradox
- silence
- zen buddhism
Enter a dialogue
- Verses on old cases only talk Chan the long way round, you say. Then what is a commentary on those verses doing?
- Deshan carried his Diamond Sutra commentaries south and burned them once he woke up. Why do you, who tell that story, keep commenting?
- A reader works out a tidy explanation of an old case. Why do you warn that such reasoning shatters it into seven flowers and eight cracks?
- The bodhisattva Manjushri sweeps words away by declaring the teaching wordless. Why liken him to a tortoise whose tail, brushing out its tracks, leaves new ones?
- Xuedou settles a whole case in four lines, praising one master and faulting another. What can a poem do to an old story that prose cannot?