This article is just random talk, don’t take it too seriously.
I have been reading some random things recently and unexpectedly found that there is a lot of connection between them. It is very interesting, so I wrote it down.
This connection can be said to be a gender issue, a relationship between males and females, or a relationship between men and women.
I’ve been using the idiom “決一女雄” (a showdown between male and female) since I was a kid. The meaning is clear: it means a matter of deciding who’s better, a matter of winning or losing. But one day, I suddenly wondered: Who’s better, male or female? Who wins?
The answer seems clear: female represents loss, male represents victory. But is this really the case? Who stipulated this?
If the explanation of the words corresponds to: a showdown = a showdown, then it is also obvious that the female wins and the male loses.
But this clearly doesn’t align with modern perceptions. Hearing the crowd yell “Hurry up!” at a football match is hilarious, even more exciting than cheering. But then again, when I was watching a women’s soccer match, I actually heard people yelling “Hurry up!” It was hilarious. But didn’t the media also write about “Chinese women’s soccer regaining its glory”?
Occasionally I read an article by Mr. Lei Yi of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.“Unconscious” sexism》
http://www.renwen.org/thread-5106–1‑1.html
I’ve discovered someone else has the same idea, and it’s much more thoughtful than mine. Two years ago, at a book fair, I met Mr. Lei. He reviewed books on the humanities and social sciences, while I reviewed children’s books. Mr. Lei is quite interesting, as you can see from this article. And it seems the one posted online is the “unabridged version,” complete with Chinese swear words.
In his article, Mr. Lei shows one side of our traditional culture: the side that intentionally or unintentionally discriminates against or weakens females.
Perhaps because I’m raising a daughter, I’m particularly sensitive to this “classical” aspect of traditional Chinese texts. For example, there’s a line in the Three Character Classic: “Once upon a time, Meng’s mother chose her neighbors carefully; when her son refused to study, she broke the loom.” When I talk to my daughter about this, I have to make a special comment. Meng’s mother, while choosing her neighbors was good, destroyed the loom because her son didn’t study—that’s terrible. In traditional Chinese families, the honor of a family rests with the man. There’s also the Dou family, whose family peddled pride because they raised five talented sons. But even if they had fifteen daughters, they’d still be considered exceptionally successful, and the family wouldn’t even bring them up. In fact, according to traditional rural customs, daughters weren’t even considered family members. So, Meng’s mother, convinced that her son didn’t like studying and skipped class one day, felt the family was doomed, so she destroyed the loom as well. What was a loom? It was the family’s livelihood. To remind her son, to warn him, she destroyed the very thing that fed the family. The point is, as a man, the true nobility of sons! ——We must not have this kind of thinking today.
There’s another line in the Analects: “Only women and villains are difficult to raise. If you keep them close, they will be disrespectful; if you keep them at a distance, they will resent you.” Recently, someone tried to find a “correct interpretation” of this saying, suggesting that Confucius was particularly sympathetic to women (such as single mothers) who raise children (villains) on their own. To put it bluntly, it’s probably: raising children is not easy for single mothers… I think this “correct interpretation” is quite creative, haha, but it’s also really too “creative,” haha.
Of course, it’s difficult to find evidence that Confucius wasn’t a “feminist” advocate. But judging from his various statements and actions (aside from this “corrected” statement), there’s really no evidence of this. This isn’t meant to criticize Confucius; he lived far removed from matriarchal society. As a follower and defender of Zhou ritual culture, he was also a source of later culture and didn’t attempt to reform it.
After the patriarchal system was established, the idea that males are strong and females are weak, males win and females lose, males are superior and females are inferior… seemed to become the default value of this cultural system.
A few years ago, when I first read The Da Vinci Code, I was fascinated by the bizarre stories, the secrets behind famous paintings, the code games, etc. However, after putting the book down for a long time, I suddenly realized that there was something in the book that was hidden by the suspenseful and thrilling story.
What I found most surprising about this book was its attempt to offer a different interpretation of Christianity through the concept of the so-called “Holy Grail.” The clue lies in the world-famous painting “The Last Supper,” known to everyone, and surprisingly, this interpretation makes a lot of sense, or at least is worth pondering. According to the story’s logic: after Jesus, power in the Christian church could have passed to a woman, and the possibility of this “fact” (of course, I’m referring to a fictional fact in the story) caused great panic among the existing church!
Actually, I don’t really care about the possibility or truth of this “fact” itself. What I find particularly inspiring is that religion also has gender!
How should I put it — religions dominated by men will show the characteristics of a patriarchal system, while religions dominated by women will show the characteristics of a matriarchal system — I guess we can say that.
So, what is the gender of the religions we are most familiar with today — Taoism, Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam?
I was once discussing The Da Vinci Code with a literary researcher, and he mentioned that the book’s creation had a Western “New Goddessism” background. I found this statement quite interesting.
Upon closer inspection, the book does hint at the existence of another female religion, one whose rituals mirror those of the Priory of Sion, which the heroine Sophie stumbled upon at her grandfather’s house as a child. For Sophie, witnessing such acts was unbearable, even unforgivable. However, from fragmentary references within the book, this ritual may have originated in ancient Greece, similar to offerings to the Earth Goddess.
Recently, I read another book called “The Witch of Portobello” and was so surprised…surprised squarely!
http://landaishu.zhongwenlink.com/home/upload20083/2009920175528467.jpg
I picked up this book to read mainly because it isThe Alchemist, but upon reading it, I found that it has a lot of connections with “The Da Vinci Code” — I mean the connection that surprised me.
“The Witches of Portobello” has a bit of the flavor of a suspense novel, but the author’s temperament as a scholar and poet makes the book exude a refreshing tranquility.
I spent a long time reading this book, progressing step by step, turning back when I felt confused (but never turning backwards). The book’s narrative structure is bound to be confusing. It recounts the life of this “modern witch” through the recollections of others, with a certain chronological order, but not entirely. Furthermore, each narrator has a deep relationship with the protagonist, making it impossible for them to truly objectively recount the story of this beautiful, passionate, mysterious woman whom they either love, hate, worship, despise, regard as mortal, or as a goddess.
I read very slowly. On the one hand, I was trying to imagine the original appearance of the protagonist from these fragmented and unreliable fragments (this is probably what Coleot expected readers to do), but on the other hand, I found that almost every detail was extremely inspiring.
I happened to be about to go on a trip, so I took the book with me and continued to read it slowly. I reached the final chapters while at a pass in the Helan Mountains. There was no electricity that night, so I finished the final section by dim candlelight, which perfectly matched the book’s atmosphere. When I finished, I breathed a sigh of relief, unbolted the wooden door, and prepared to venture out into the moonlit courtyard. I accidentally startled a giant black dog lying outside. It leaped up (luckily, backward), and I jumped up too (of course, backward). Then it barked furiously, and all the dogs in the pass joined in the barking. I quickly bolted the door, already covered in a cold sweat. I checked the time: it was just after midnight—perfectly fitting for the atmosphere of finishing the book.
As a novel, I find The Witches of Portobello less readable. It feels like the author lost interest in the novel as a whole by the end, and the ending feels a bit abrupt, completely lacking the thrill of reaching the end of The Alchemist. I suspect this is primarily due to the imbalanced narrative structure. The early part is incredibly suspenseful and complex, while the latter part is lightly narrated, offering a somewhat concise (but not necessarily unserious) resolution. The plot, broadly speaking, tells the life story of a woman embodying the aura of a “modern witch” (if you consider the final “death” as a closure). While the death adds a touch of detective suspense to the story, the subtlety and subtlety of the plot also make it feel a bit abrupt. I suspect this is the author’s intention: he doesn’t want to distract the reader, nor does he want to distract the reader.
As a unique book, “The Witches of Portobello” is captivating. I believe it’s worth reading for anyone with even a passing interest in the spiritual world and spiritual life (and who consistently dismisses them as “superstition”). The author firmly suggests that the beautiful and mysterious heroine, Athena, is truly a witch. While we could attempt to interpret Athena’s life through materialistic lense, a more convenient and natural interpretation is to acknowledge her as a witch. Her lifelong struggle can be seen as a story of self-discovery and spiritual practice. Her dancing, calligraphy lessons, return to the gypsy camp, chance encounters with new mentors, and her mentoring of new witches can all be seen as forms of spiritual practice. Coliot, with his novelist’s eloquence, strives to convince the reader of this, while simultaneously explaining it with the profound knowledge of a scholar.
There’s a subtle detail in the book that could be ignored as a novel, but I feel it’s probably the real reason the author wrote it. I remember it was only about one page long, and a historian who seemed to be an outsider explained the background of the witches to us.
In the view of that historian (I think it was Colliot himself), modern religion is masculine, a continuation of patriarchal religion. While he was primarily referring to Christianity, he could also apply this to Buddhism and other religions. The patriarchal characteristics of masculine religion (that’s the name I gave it) are most typically institutionalized, relying on religious institutions to maintain their existence and imbued with a rigid hierarchy. This institutionalization of religion has gradually distanced it from its original teachings and from the natural order. It often relies on order and fear, rather than on the most fundamental love. The feminine in religion is often suppressed or even persecuted by masculinity. He believed that the medieval church’s persecution of witches was essentially based on this. However, the feminine power of religion did not disappear; its teachings and adherents (both men and women) continued to be passed down in secretive ways. The story of the “Witch of Portobello” is just one part of this story.
Combining the novelist’s fragmentary descriptions, the deeply feminine religion he hints at bears some resemblance to the monastic order in The Da Vinci Code, both emphasizing the worship of nature, with the object of worship referred to as “Mother” or “Mother Earth.” However, in this witch’s book, the ways of accessing and inducing the ways of nature are both more mysterious and more everyday. One can reach a “peak” in a frenzied dance, gain enlightenment in a primeval forest, meditate in a dark room, or achieve the highest realms of calligraphy… In short, the methods are numerous, somewhat reminiscent of Taoist or Zen practice. The book’s discussion of the practitioner’s connection with nature also bears resemblance to the principle of “harmony between man and nature.”
This is probably what surprised me the most.
I’ve also been reading the Laozi (Tao Te Ching) lately. It’s a fascinating book, and the more I read it, the more I understand it. Sometimes it seems like I understand a lot, and sometimes it seems like I don’t understand it at all.
Some time after reading The Witches of Portobello, I suddenly seemed to have made a new discovery about Lao Tzu. That night, I excitedly announced to my wife: I have discovered that Lao Tzu is a true feminist!
We can find all the relevant texts in “Laozi”, and there is really no distinction between “male and female” in it (it is said that such a concept did not exist when the book was written). Laozi used “female, female” to correspond to “male, male”, and never put “mother” and “father” together (they are often put together in “The Analects of Confucius”). The word “father” only appears once (“I will regard him as my godfather”), and “mother” is often corresponded to “son”.
You can find these:
【About Mother】
The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth; the named is the mother of all things. (Chapter 1)
I am different from others in that I value eating my mother. (Chapter 20)
There is a thing, a thing in the universe, born before the heavens and the earth. It is silent and lonely, yet independent and unchanging, and it circulates without end. It can be the mother of the world. (Chapter 25)
The world has a beginning, which is the mother of the world. Once you have understood the mother, you will know the child. Once you know the child, you will protect the mother again. You will never be in danger. (Chapter 52)
A nation with a strong foundation can endure for a long time; this is the way to longevity and prosperity. (Chapter 59)
The “mother” here refers to the way of nature, the way of heaven, which is quite similar to the meaning of “mother” in “The Witch of Portobello”, but more primordial. The corresponding “son” probably refers to all things with form and name.
【About male and female】
The immortal Valley Spirit is called the Mysterious Female. The gate of the Mysterious Female is called the root of heaven and earth. (Chapter 6)
Before the union of male and female is known, ejaculation occurs, which is the culmination of essence. (Chapter 55)
The female of the world is the companion of the world. The female always triumphs over the male by being quiet, and by being quiet she is the lower one. (Chapter 61)
Chapter 55 discusses the “infant,” and the “union of male and female” here likely refers to the union of man and woman. Chapter 6 states, “The subtle and profound gate of maternity is the root of heaven and earth.” This is the highest praise, as maternal nature nurtures all things, giving rise to endless life.
【About male and female】
When Heaven’s gates open and close, can they be considered female? (Chapter 10)
Knowing its masculinity and guarding its femininity, one becomes the stream of the world. (Chapter 28)
——“To be female” means to “keep still” (to be able to overcome the stillness of males) and “keep soft”, which is also one of the supreme methods praised by Lao Tzu.
Interestingly, Chapter 28 states, “Knowing the strength of the male, yet guarding the softness of the female.” This statement seems to imply that, in the secular world, the male is still stronger than the female, which leads to the twist of phrase, “I will insist on guarding the female.” In other words, in Lao Tzu’s time, the “male prevails, the female loses” and “the male is strong, the female is weak” were already prevalent in the minds of the “common people.” Lao Tzu’s teachings can be said to transcend this secular world.
When I excitedly announced my discovery to my wife that day, I really thought it was a new discovery. Unfortunately, less than two days later, I accidentally flipped through the preface to the Laozi annotated by Xu Xiaotian. Oh! It turns out that he had already explained it as early as the 18th year of the Republic of China (1929), and even earlier in the “Jingzi Jietie”! — It’s really depressing :(
However, through my random reading and random encounters, I’ve found some similarities in insights with the great masters of the past, which is quite satisfying. However, judging by the citations, the “Explanation of the Classics” pushes Lao Tzu’s time further and further back, almost to the pre-Shang Dynasty, based on his “praise of women’s rights.” I think that’s a bit excessive. While Lao Tzu’s life is very unclear, it’s generally accepted that he served as an official in the Zhou Dynasty library.
From the text of the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu himself stated that his thoughts originated from ancient times: “Holding on to the ancient Tao, we can control the present. Knowing the ancient beginnings is called the Dao Ji” (Chapter 14). He also said, “From the present to the ancient times, its name has not faded, and it has been used to review the various beginnings. How do I know the state of the various beginnings? By this” (Chapter 21).
In “The Da Vinci Code”, the museum director also serves as the master of the monastery;
In The Witch of Portobello, the mysterious mentor’s public identity is also a famous religious historian;
Damn, there’s nothing wrong with publicly identifying myself as the director of the National Library!
If, in the long river of human cultural history, there truly exists a very ancient source, a spiritual cultural undercurrent or tributary that worships nature and deifies the mother (or even completely metaphysicalizes it), which can be called religion or not, then the strongly feminine side it manifests, the side Lao Tzu described as feminine, gentle, quiet, ever-lasting, and the highest good like water, is likely to constantly oppose, challenge, compromise, and merge with the strongly masculine side Lao Tzu described as male, strong, and impetuous…
I happen to have a copy of “Introduction to Religious Ethics” on hand, which mentions the “Declaration of World Religions Toward a Global Ethic,” adopted by the Second World Parliament of Religions in 1993. It contains four “bottom-line ethics,” or “four irrevocable rules.” The fourth rule is: “Uphold a culture of equal rights and partnership between men and women.” The declaration also states that we must recognize that without a “partner-like life together, there is no true humanity!”
There is also a particularly interesting popular science book: “Genome: The Autobiography of the Human Race Chapter 23”, which was given to me by my translator, Wawa Ma, a few years ago. The book mentions that the story on chromosome 15 is closely related to gender.
Genetic scientists have discovered through experiments that a fertilized egg with only two fathers but no mother, or only two mothers but no father, can become an embryo but cannot develop normally. Under normal circumstances, genes inherited from the father are responsible for producing the placenta, while genes inherited from the mother are responsible for most of the embryo’s development, especially the head and brain.
It is also a well-known fact that a child is born by the mother, but the child’s gender is determined by the father’s sex chromosomes.
This chapter mentions a famous and fascinating story: In the 1960s, a Canadian baby boy was forced to undergo specialized surgery and hormones to become a girl after a routine procedure failed. In 1973, a Freudian psychologist declared that he had fully adapted to female characteristics, thus convincingly stating that gender roles are socially constructed. However, in 1997, when researchers investigated and verified this famous case, they discovered that the boy had reverted to being a man, married, adopted a child, and lived happily with his family. The reason was that the child, raised as a girl, had a persistent desire to be a boy, which deeply troubled him. So, when he was 14, his family revealed the truth. Finally, he felt relieved, stopped hormone treatment, and underwent a mastectomy, becoming a man again.
This story tells us… I can’t quite remember what it is… Anyway, it must tell us something!
However, the metaphysical concepts of male and female, masculine and feminine, and male and female should not be reduced to the biological level. Otherwise, Laozi would be incomprehensible.
I also have a “new” discovery: I also have a children worship complex!
We’ll talk about it next time.
September 20, 2009, Beijing
English
