Reviewing the Caigentan: Why the Repetition Is the Point — Epoche B1
We read quickly now. We take the main idea from a page and move on, and by evening we cannot say what we read at lunchtime. For the past eight months I have been reading a book that makes this impossible. The Caigentan was written by Hong Zicheng in the 1590s, near the end of the Ming dynasty. The title is usually translated as Vegetable Root Discourse, and it is not decoration: it points at an older line by the Song scholar Wang Xinmin — a man who can chew vegetable roots can do anything. Roots are what is left after the good part of the plant has been sold. They are hard and bitter, and chewing them takes time. The book announces its method on its cover. Inside there is no story and no argument. There are about 360 passages, most just two or three lines long, on how to behave, what to want, and when to stop wanting it. A passage of thirty characters gives you nothing if you read it in four seconds, and there is no next paragraph to explain it. The same idea — do not chase a reputation — returns a dozen times from a dozen angles, and some passages flatly contradict others: one tells you to step back from the world; a later one says that a man who steps back completely has only found a more comfortable selfishness. You have to decide which of the two is talking to you. One warning. Several English versions cut the collection down to a hundred or so favourite passages. That removes exactly the repetition that does the work — it keeps the sweet part of the plant and throws away the roots. Buy a complete translation. I am on passage 140. References Hong, Z. (c. 16th century). Cai Gen Tan (菜根譚). (Various modern editions and translations exist, e.g., 'Vegetable Roots Discourses'.)