Steven Shankman

Mighty Opposites: From Dichotomies to Difference in the Comparative Study of China

Introduction 1. The myth of the other 2. Montaigne, postmodernism and cultural critique 3. Jewish and Chinese literalism 4. Out of the cultural ghetto 5. Western theory and Chinese reality 6. Postmodernism and the return of the native Notes Index.

China and Colette Brunschwig’s Art of Witnessing

Abstract Steven Shankman discusses the genesis of a remarkable and singular work, influenced by calligraphy and traditional Chinese art, which today forms part of national French collections (Centre Georges Pompidou and the Musée d’art moderne, Paris). Hidden during the Second World War by a friend who introduced her to traditional Chinese art, Colette Brunschwig was seduced by the practice of calligraphy, the ‘interiority’ of painting liberated from the notion of representation, and by ‘le vide à la source de l’inspiration’, in the words of Marinette Bruno. The work of Emmanuel Levinas, particularly his theory that the truth of testimony is not the truth of representation, guides Shankman’s thinking throughout the article.

Response to David Glidden's Review of The Siren and the Sage

The essence of David Glidden’s critique of The Siren and the Sage (Philosophy East and West 52 [2] [2002]: 260–265) is that its authors have decided ‘‘to import a largely nineteenth-century, technically Western philosophical terminology’’ (p. 261) into their interpretation of the first chapter of the Daodejing and then used that grid to distort the texts they examine. May we suggest the possibility that it is perhaps rather Professor Glidden who is the willful distorter—in his case, of the text of The Siren and the Sage? Glidden’s chief objection is to our translation of the first chapter of the Daodejing, our analysis of which shapes the direction of the book’s argument. In speaking of the nature of one’s experience of the dao, Laozi says, ‘‘Therefore, constantly have no intention (wu yu) in order to observe its wonders; constantly have an intention (you yu) in order to observe its manifestations.’’ Now, while readers are, of course, free to disagree with our interpretation of this passage, it is an act of interpretive hubris, ignorance, and even irresponsibility for a reader who knows ‘‘no classical Chinese’’ (as Glidden admits, p. 261) to ground his fervent objections to our interpretation on the basis of his superficial comparison of our translation and that produced by just one other scholar, Robert G. Henricks. Our construing of the word yu as ‘‘intention’’ is not as idiosyncratic or as original as Glidden contends. As we observed in The Siren and the Sage (p. 186), Shigenori Nagatomo similarly argues that the word yu plausibly refers to ‘‘a directionality within a noetic act; I seek something; I intend something or desire something ’’ (‘‘An Epistemic Turn in the Tao Te Ching: A Phenomenological Reflection,’’ International Philosophical Quarterly 21 [2] [June 1983]: 176). We surveyed at least twenty versions of this passage, and while the favored translation of the word yu is ‘‘desire,’’ we came to the conclusion that for us to render yu in this manner would convey inappropriately Buddhist overtones ultimately deriving from the Buddhistinfluenced commentary of Wang Bi (226–249 C.E.). The word ‘‘intention’’ better suited what we wanted (or intended!) to say. Our choice of the word ‘‘intention’’ does not, in any event, alter or distort the meaning of the passage. Indeed, Glidden’s one alleged counter-example from the Henricks translation (‘‘Therefore, those constantly without desires, by this means will perceive its subtlety. Those constantly with desires, by this means will see only that which they yearn for and seek’’) is, in essence, not very different from our own, and can easily accommodate our analysis. Having made this fatal assumption (on the basis of no firsthand linguistic evi-