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Free Online Course
Windstone Press is happy to announce that we are hosting a free class taught by Richard Goodman. Classical Chinese Medical Texts (Vol I) will be the basis for the course, and topics that are indirectly related will also be discussed. The classes will be free to everyone and available on our website.
The course will span a total of 15 weeks starting July 15th. Each week will consist of one or more podcasts available on this website. After the class is finished, all podcasts will be left on the website so that anyone can access the material at any time. Each week will have a separate page so that participants can ask questions or make comments pertaining to that week.
We are offering this course to help give readers a chance to make their learning more structured, as many of us learn better in a class setting. Take advantage of this opportunity to learn more about reading classical literature from someone who has already done it the hard way!
Chinese Medicine and Daoism
Is Chinese medicine rooted in Daoism? Are all of the classical texts essentially Daoist ideas of the body and disease? Many teachers and authors support this idea and base many of their teachings on the idea that Chinese medicine has Daoism at its core. As much as I wish this were the case, I see very little evidence for this in the classics (as hard as I have tried to find it).
We Westerners like Daoism. I like Daoism. The Dao De Jing is the most translated book into English and therefore celebrated as one of the classics of Chinese culture (even though most people in Chinese speaking countries have never read it and have no interest in it). This does not make it central to the ideas contained in classical Chinese medical texts. In fact, even the term Daoism (Taoism) is problematic. For more on this, I highly recommend this article by Nathan Sivin.
If I were to narrow down any one philosophical thought as predominate in the earlier classics, I would have to say Legalism takes the prize. The zang-organs are given categories that correspond to government posts. The character 治 is used for the verb “to treat”; this is the same verb used to represent “to govern.” There are countless essays that equate treating disease with managing the affairs of the state.
This is not likely to be a poplar stance, as most of the modern teachers who have a following use Daoism as the basis for what they teach. I think there is nothing wrong with this, and I am attracted to such things myself. The difference, for me personally, is that I see this as a modern interpretation of classical medicine which often superimposes ideas on to texts. We want there to be a Daoist basis of the medicine, so we see it even when it is not there.
When I first embarked on the journey of learning to read classical Chinese medical texts, I also believed that Chinese medicine was rooted in Daoism; in fact, I had always been under the impression that it snubbed Confucianism and Legalism. This idea hampered my progress. I was always looking for something that wasn’t in the texts, therefore I didn’t understand the texts. It wasn’t until I started exploring Chinese philosophy in depth that I realized that Chinese medical writers were versed in all classics of philosophy. Very few medical writers snubbed any one tradition, and they often used aspects of all philosophies including “Daoism.”
I do not want to discourage people from developing interest in a Daoist Chinese medicine. There are certainly examples of Daoism in medicine, it’s just that they do not exist everywhere. I simply want to encourage people to become much more versed in philosophy and Chinese history so that they can have a better grasp of the texts they are learning to read.
Superior and Inferior Physicians
While working on selecting texts for Volume Two of Classical Chinese Medical Texts, I found some interesting information on what constitutes a superior physician. There is also some information on what constitutes an inferior physician. I have picked three texts to look at. These three texts do not necessarily represent all that has been written on the subject, but as they are three of the older texts in Chinese medicine, namely the Ling Shu, the Nan Jing, and the Jin Gui Yao Lue, I consider them great models for one who strives toward becoming a superior physician.
Ling Shu Chapter 55
The superior physician treats that which is not yet ill. The inferior physician treats that which is already ill.
This is a fairly famous statement, which is often interpreted to be a call to preventative medicine. Modern physicians often complain that patients come in with specific complaints and it is impossible to treat what is not yet ill. I find this stance strange, as if we are to believe if someone has a disease which has already become manifest, the practitioner is prevented from treating what is not yet ill.
At any rate, the following quote from Nanjing has a completely different interpretation of the above passage:
Treating what is not yet ill means that when one sees illness in the liver (for example), this (can be) transmitted to the spleen. First fill (shi2) the spleen qi so that there is no way for it to accept the liver’s evil qi. This is what is called treating what is not yet ill.
As you can read, the writer of the Nan Jing felt that the meaning of treating what was not yet ill did not mean some psychic rendering of signs and symptoms, but a way of treating a person who comes with a specific complaint. One might go so far as to suggest that when the superior physician sees that one zang-organ has been afflicted by evil qi, the zang-organ in the control/destruction (ke) cycle of the five phases needs to be supported.
The Jin Gui Yao Lue explains this method works because when the spleen is supplemented,
it can injure the kidney. If the kidney is injured, then water doesn’t move. If water doesn’t move, then fire becomes abundant. If fire becomes abundant then the lung is injured. If the lung is injured then metal doesn’t move. If metal doesn’t move then the liver becomes abundant and is naturally cured. This is the secret meaning of supplementing the spleen to cure the liver.
As can be seen from both the Nan Jing and the Jin Gui Yao Lue, the superior physician understands the consequences of the actions of treatment through the five phase relationships. This may or may not have been the meaning intended by the Ling Shu; however, the closer a commentator is to the classic being commented, the more likely I am to take their claim to understanding it seriously.
In modern times, the five phases are relegated to old quackery that needs to be replaced with rigid diagnostic strategies and a focus on patient complaints to determine the affected system. If the five phases are not ignored, they are often taken to be central to Chinese medicine and not well balanced with the many other aspects of the medicine discussed in the classics.
In most modern schools, students are taught to observe, ask questions, palpate, form a treatment strategy based on the affected system, and then treat the affected organ or meridian directly.
This is almost the exact definition of the inferior physician from the same chapter of the Ling Shu.
Response to Leon Hammer’s Article
In the most recent issue of Chinese Medicine Times (Spring 2009), Dr. Leon Hammer wrote an interesting article about pulses in Chinese medical classics: http://www.chinesemedicinetimes.com/section/320/1/a_discussion_on_wang_shu_he_pulse_classic___part_one).
I have no major qualms with the article itself, but take exception to one of the quotes he uses to make the point that studying the classics can be “dangerous.” Any disagreements I have with Dr. Hammer’s article are the same disagreements I have with the quote from James Ramholz, which reads:
“Unfortunately, the classics are actually poor teaching tools. They often mention things without clear details or explanations. Commentaries sometimes sound as if they’re about completely unrelated topics. Even if when we read the original text in Chinese, its meaning, translation, and interpretation are frequently in dispute. The classics are actually the starting point for study and research, not the accumulation or final arbiter of what can be known.”
Let me say first that I entirely agree with the last sentence. Every aspect of Chinese medicine, including the classics, is indeed a starting point. This is a big part of what makes the medicine, for me personally, a study which I never tire of. There is no final arbiter of what can be known. Thousands of pages of classical Chinese medical texts sit in libraries and have yet to be analyzed, much less written about in English. What can be known about Chinese medicine? Every piece of knowledge is the beginning of the next discovery.
I find all of the other statements are based on common misunderstandings of classical texts. Below, I will take each part of this statement and explain my thoughts on why each one misses the mark:
Unfortunately, the classics are actually poor teaching tools. They often mention things without clear details or explanations.
No specific classic is named here, so I will be forced to follow suit and also make generalizations. The assumption here is that the writing of the classics is flawed because modern readers find them unclear and want more explanations. A lack of explanation can be simply explained by the author assuming the reader would understand the text. The authors of classical texts could not have possibly had western readers of the future in mind when they wrote. They were writing for the audience of their time and based what they wrote on the “common knowledge” of their time.
It is also important to remember that the literacy rate in China was extremely low up until the last 30 years or so. The author’s audience was small and consisted of the period’s brightest scholars. Only the most wealthy and educated could read such classics. These texts were written for people well versed in not only medical classics, but in every aspect of current and historical literature. We shouldn’t be surprised that we are not as equipped to easily comprehend these texts.
Expecting medical books to give readers “clear details” is also a very modern notion. The classics were not written as treatment manuals, but as foundational theory books. The cosmology that underlies classical texts was known by readers of the time. Practical application of that theory was not learned through books, but through apprenticeships.
If the classics are poor teaching tools today, this is our responsibility. Our inability to use them shows a lack of knowledge on our part and has nothing to do with the authors of those texts. If we want to use the classics as teaching tools, then we need to first find out what pieces of information we are lacking.
Commentaries sometimes sound as if they’re about completely unrelated topics.
I have never found this to be a problem when reading texts in classical Chinese. At times, I find commentaries that do not seem to address the preceding passage directly. In the mind of the commentator, what they wrote is related, so the modern reader’s challenge is to find that connection.
Again, we have to look more closely at the period a text was written and when it was commented. A 16th century text commenting on a 2nd century text is explaining the text for 16th century readers. If hundreds of years separate a text from its commentary, we must assume that what was common knowledge during the time of the text was no longer common when the commentary was written. Historians even use data on which parts of a text were commented and compare them with which parts were not to gleam important historical data. For a modern reader to say that commentaries seem unrelated misses the most basic reason for a commentary, which is to explain the text to their audience.
The above sentence repeats the same mistake from the first, which is to assume that any historical text was written for us, with our current notions of culture, the body, and medicine. They were not. Assuming such texts should address our needs is unrealistic.
Even if when we read the original text in Chinese, its meaning, translation, and interpretation are frequently in dispute.
We must remember that, in spite of modern China’s wish to proclaim otherwise, there was not a wholly unified China that existed over the last 3,000 years. China’s history is complicated; when we consider all of the changes in dynasties, wars, famines, movements, rebellions, plagues, religions, uprisings, and regional distinctions over time, we have a very complicated history that occurred in the geographical region we now call China. The cultures of the Han and Tang dynasties, for example, cannot be treated as part of some imagined “one China.”
Each new era had its own distinct culture that needed to reinterpret the classics according to that culture. Many of the historical periods of China faced the same problem we are facing today: how do we interpret and use this medicine? This is not a new problem, as evidenced by the need for the commentaries spoken about earlier.
I find the disputes about meanings of the classics to be one of the most interesting aspects in the history of Chinese medicine. What is the Triple Warmer? What is the Shen? What is the Ming Men? In my own work, I have no desire to try to define these things concretely. I could argue that the Ming Men, for example, is the eyes. I could use the Nei Jing to back up my claim. However, I would be ignoring the many other writings that claim that the Ming Men is the right kidney or the space between the kidneys, among other possibilities. In my view, the need to define these things concretely does not reflect the spirit of the classics, but is a projection of our own culture, which wants conclusions based on concrete evidence. The classics had no such expectation.
In Classical Chinese Medical Texts (Ch. 6), one of the texts I used is from The Classic of Difficulties. One sentence makes a statement about the San Jiao, which was debated in later times. I find the sentence impossible to interpret with 100% certainty. Initially, I wanted to take this chapter out of the book because I was afraid readers would want something more concrete. In the end, I left it because readers need to know classical medical texts contain many statements that are wide open to differing interpretations. I do not see this as a problem, but more as one of the most fascinating aspects of the medicine.
I think Dr. Ramhoz’s quote above has helped to illustrate what I find to be the final barrier to entering the next stage of development in Chinese medicine: drop all assumptions and expectations, forget the world you live in just long enough, and the world of the classics will become wide open to you.
Ask the Author
Richard Goodman has agreed to moderate a forum for readers of Classical Chinese Medical Texts. This is a great opportunity to ask questions about areas that might be difficult for you.
Besides being the author of this text, Dr. Goodman has been working in the teaching Chinese field for several years. He has translated for and edited many teaching Chinese books in Taiwan. He is a great resource, so take advantage of this opportunity to ask him questions at http://classicalmedicine.wordpress.com
About the MP3 Files
Many people are downloading the PDF sample for “How to Use This Book.”
When I was writing the book, I had no idea that Windstone Press would offer MP3 recordings for each chapter (I don’t think they knew it either). For those who will have the recordings, this is a great benefit to studying.
At first, I thought it wouldn’t do much good. This is a reading book, after all. I only put the pinyin in the book for people who could already speak and read Mandarin so that they could use other dictionaries and compare definitions. Looking back at my own education in Chinese language, I realize that recordings of the textbooks I was using were essential for both reading and speaking. Reading while listening to the sounds helps readers focus and use more of their brain. You will remember more by listening.
The recordings are basically set up as follows: each of the 15 chapters has its own file. Each chapter file starts with a reading of the Vocabulary, number by number. For the earlier chapters, each character is repeated twice (through Unit one I believe). After the Vocabulary section, the text is read. Each unit gets a little faster, but the rate is still good for beginners and not too boring for those who can speak Mandarin already.
I suggest using the recordings on the “second pass” through each section. In other words, study the Vocabulary as outline in the introduction first, then go through again with the recordings. When you finally approach the text, read them as outlined in the introduction first, then use the recordings.
When using the review pages (the first page of each chapter), you can use the recordings especially when you are having trouble remembering the text. This will certainly help your ability to memorize the texts.
All in all, I’m really happy they are offering these recordings. I think they will be of great benefit to everyone using this book.
New Sample Pages Available
We have posted new sample pages for Classical Chinese Medical Texts: Learning to Read the Classics of Chinese Medicine.
Feel free to download and keep any of these pages.
The Unpublished Introduction
In the introduction, I wanted to write about how this book came to be, but it seemed a bit out of place. I am currently holding the first printed copy in my hand, which has inspired me to share what I did not put in the book.
About twelve years ago, while still a graduate student of Chinese medicine, I came across various copies of translations of the classics. What I read made no sense to me, so I asked some of the teachers who taught my classes. The overall response I got was, “Don’t worry about that.” This made me even more curious. How could I just forget the classics of the medicine I was studying?
I started getting my hands on anything I could read. I loved reading Paul Unschuld’s books, but in a very sneaky sort of way. I then started to discover academic work by Nathan Sivin, Charlotte Furth, Benjamin Elman, and others. They seemed to contradict much of what I was hearing from my teachers and I would use their work to ask more probing questions of my teachers.
After about a year of trying to understand the medicine through translations of the classics, I was told by a teacher whom I respected greatly that if I really wanted to get into the deeper meaning of classical texts, I would have to study Chinese…and not just Chinese, but classical Chinese. I was not excited by this.
Upon graduation, I vowed that after practicing for five years I would move to China and study the language. After a year in private practice, I was already quite bored. I missed the camaraderie that came with having classmates who were grappling with the same questions I had. I decided to keep practicing and enrolled in local Chinese courses. This was very satisfying at first, but after a year I realized I was no closer to being able to tackle Chinese medical texts.
I enjoyed clinical practice. Helping people with their physical, spiritual, and emotional issues was very satisfying; on the other hand, the desire to go more deeply into the medicine was eating away at me. After three years of practice (to the day), I decided to take on studying Chinese full time. I packed up as much as I could carry with me on a plane and gave the rest to the local Salvation Army. I gave up essentially everything I had built, but I knew I was treading the right path for me at that time.
My initial plan was to come to Taiwan for just one year, then apply for a graduate program in the UK or back in the US. I wanted to go all of the way through to PhD and not stop until I was done. After one year in Taiwan (studying Chinese 10 hours per week for the entire year), I realized I still needed more training. I couldn’t get through a modern Chinese book, let alone a classical text. For most of this time, I was working for a publishing company translating from Chinese to English. Most of the books I worked on were Chinese language textbooks. I didn’t realize how valuable this experience would be at the time-it was just a way to pay the bills.
After two years of studying and working, I received a full scholarship to attend the Chinese University of Hong Kong for two years. At this time, I decided to ramp up my knowledge of classical Chinese. I read and studied every book available.
Many of the classical Chinese textbooks I found to be great resources, but they do not cover medical literature. I probably spent about a year in total devoted to learning to read classical Chinese. The books that used English to teach classical Chinese were initially very helpful. After mastering these, I started reading classical Chinese to modern Chinese translations of medical texts.
I often asked myself, “Why is no one creating a good classical Chinese to English textbook?” Finally, I sat down at my computer and outlined what such a book would look like. I pulled some medical texts from my bookshelf and included what I found to be the best methods from all of the Chinese-English books. After a few chapters were put together, I had the beginnings of a textbook.
At the time, I was about to begin my second semester in Hong Kong and didn’t have time to work on the book. I was not serious about finishing it and was hoping someone else would pick up on the idea and do it. After about a month into the semester, I realized I was miserable in the academic world and knew I would only grow more miserable. I decided to give up the scholarship and went back to Taiwan.
The first few months, I had forgotten about the book. I traveled a lot and worked on bits and pieces. At some point, I looked at what I had put together and realized it could be a book-and a very useful one. I decided to start taking it seriously, which meant that I had to throw out a lot of what I had already done. I needed to consider what beginners could handle, check to be sure I was teaching each new character, make the texts short but still useful, explain the grammar in a way that could be understood, and make sure all of the texts followed one another in a language learner’s logic.
For the last six months or so, I have done nothing but work on this book. My goal throughout writing it was to create the book I wish I had when I started working on learning to read classical Chinese medical texts. I hope you will find that it makes tackling more difficult aspects of the medicine much easier.
traditional Chinese medicine (TCM)
The differences between Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), classical Chinese medicine, and modern medicine are mentioned frequently all over the internet. Many say that the creation of TCM was a deliberate act to destroy the medicine, but is this true? Why is a tradition created? What purpose does it serve?
The development of TCM was a necessary step for me to study the medicine I now practice. In fact, if it were not for TCM, chances are I would have never had the chance to study Chinese medicine at all. Although I do not practice TCM as taught in modern-day schools-and have no interest in doing so-I appreciate that without it I have no idea what I would be doing today.
There is a history behind traditions in medicine. During the Song-Jin-Yuan period, a few authors came up with some innovative ideas based on the classics, picking out pieces and developing “new” ideas. By the Ming and Qing dynasties, a bit of a separation was created because such authors’ works had contradictions. There had always been contradictions in Chinese medicine, and before this time authors were intent on resolving them by integrating all ideas. For the first time, a movement toward picking and choosing one contradiction over another began.
By the Ming and Qing dynasties, “study groups” began forming. Other groups who wanted to ignore the Song-Jin-Yuan era writers begin to emerge and call for a return to the earlier classics. Also during this time, medicine as practiced in the West also began to make its way into China. To the Chinese, this too was just medicine as practiced by foreigners. Much of it was rejected outright as complete insanity until the late 19th century.
So how did TCM come about? The medicine practiced before the beginning of the 20th century was on its way out long before the Cultural Revolution. Chinese intellectuals who started studying materialistic philosophies hated the traditional cosmology, some arguing that it was destroying China and that anything related to it must go. Sun yat-sen, the first leader of Republican China after the empire fell, was trained in western medicine in Japan and had many people close to him that wanted to rid the country of its medicine.
When Mao’s communist party took over, there was already a widespread movement to rid the country of traditional medicine. Mao was eager to drop the medicine until he found out the medical infrastructure to replace it didn’t exist. TCM was born out of the PRC government trying to solve a health crisis after the only medicine that had an infrastructure was already being pulled apart. TCM saved Chinese medicine from complete annihilation. Let’s stop tearing it down and appreciate it for what it is.
