Paul Haspel's Reviews > The Analects

The term “analects,” in case you were wondering, is defined at dictionary.com as “selected passages from the writings of an author.” I mention this definition here because it seems that the only time we use the term “analects” is when we consider the writings of Confucius. Was there once a larger corpus of writings from Confucius, and is what we have today distilled from some larger body of work? If so, then I wish we had that entire larger body of philosophical work, the same way we have a good many books from classical Greek philosophers like Plato and Aristotle; but that being said, I certainly am glad that we have the Analects as a distillation of Confucius’ philosophy.

His Chinese name was K’ung Fu-tzu, 孔夫子, and the Latinate name that he bears today was probably bestowed by Jesuit missionaries to China in the 16th century. By any name, however, Confucius is a great philosopher who speaks to us today just as clearly as he spoke to the people of Chinese antiquity. He lived a long time ago – when he died in 479 B.C., the Spartan defense of Thermopylae had taken place just one year before – but it is astonishing how current and relevant his words and ideas remain.

“Analects” is, of course, a Latinate term; in Chinese, the book is 論語,the Lun Yü. It is divided into 20 books, and contains a total of 512 Confucian sayings, most of them quite short. On this re-reading of The Analects, I encountered some sayings that were already familiar to me: e.g., “To say you know when you know, and to say you do not when you do not, that is knowledge” (II.17, p. 65). Yet on this reading, I learned many things that I found new.

Perhaps because I’ve been reading a good deal of classical Greek philosophy lately, I found some striking parallels between Confucius and the Greeks who wrote sometime after him. For instance, when “The Master said, ‘Barbarian tribes with their rulers are inferior to Chinese states without them’” (III.5, p. 67), it made me think of how the ancient Greeks considered any non-Greek-speaking society to be βάρβαροι, barbaroi, barbarians. I found myself thinking of the doomed tragic heroes of ancient Greek drama, men and women brought down by their tragic flaws, when I heard Confucius reflect that “In his errors a man is true to type. Observe the errors and you will know the man” (IV.7, p. 73).

Confucius knows that his disciples aspire to government service in the bureaucracy of the Empire – hence the prevalence of sayings in which Columbus offers advice such as, “Do not worry because you have no official position. Worry about your qualifications. Do not worry because no one appreciates your abilities. Seek to be worthy of appreciation” (IV.14, p. 74),

Additionally, in an acutely status-conscious society, Confucius’ listeners are very interested in what will help them achieve the distinction of “gentleman.” With considerable focus on the value of benevolence, Confucius suggests that “The gentleman understands what is moral. The small man understands what is profitable” (IV.16, p. 74). And in one of my favorite passages from the Analects, Confucius remarks that “the gentleman hates to dwell downstream for it is there that all that is sordid in the Empire finds its way” (XIX.20, p. 155).

Readers who are interested in the Judeo-Christian philosophical and moral tradition may be struck by the ways in which Confucius disagrees with one of the primary moral imperatives of Christianity. In contrast with Lao Tzu, who in the Tao Te Ching tells his disciples to “do good to him who has done you an injury”, Confucius says, “What, then, do you repay a good turn with? You repay an injury with straightness, but you repay a good turn with a good turn” (XIV.34, p. 129). In other words, the only thing you owe to someone who has wronged you is straightness, directness, honesty. For Western readers, many of whom have been raised in the tradition of “whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Matthew 5:39), this may be the most challenging passage in the entire Analects.

At the same time, Confucianism invokes the Golden Rule in a way similar to all the other great moral, philosophical, and religious systems of the world. In response to a disciple’s asking, “Is there a single word which can be a guide to conduct throughout one’s life?”, Confucius replies, “Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire” (XV.24, p. 135).

Perhaps because I was reading Confucius during the presidential election year of 2016 here in the United States of America, I found that I was particularly interested in one particular example of Confucius’ advice to his disciples: “Be sure to go carefully into the case of the man who is disliked by the multitude. Be sure to go carefully into the case of the man who is liked by the multitude” (XV.28, p. 136). Good advice in the state of Lu during the Zhou dynasty, and good advice in any modern nation nowadays.

I had this edition of The Analects with me when my wife and I were traveling in Beijing, home of the second largest Confucian temple in the world. Walking in the Forbidden City, my copy of The Analects in my jacket pocket, I wondered how many readers, imperial or otherwise, referred to their own copy of this book while traveling between and among the buildings of this most impressive city-within-a-city.

This edition of the Analects includes a glossary of names and places mentioned in the book, an appendix on events in the life of Confucius, a textual history of the book, and a chronology of Confucius’ life. Particularly helpful is another appendix, one that describes the characters of the different disciples with whom Confucius speaks in the Analects. For readers of Confucius’ time, and indeed for followers of Confucianism nowadays, the differences in character among disciples like Tzu-kung, Tzu-lu, and Yen Yüan would be as self-evident as the differences in personality that Christians see among Saint Peter, Saint John, and Saint Thomas in the New Testament. This Penguin Books edition of Confucius’ Analects is a very fine way to acquaint, or reacquaint, oneself with one of the most important books ever written.