To choose a geographical model for the formal categorisation of subject matter presupposes an affinity with the traditional approach to understanding 'the other' while disregarding 'the self'. In so choosing, we admit to the essential desirability or undesirability of what lies on the proverbial 'other shore'.
The first direct implication of an East-West parallelism is that no 'centre' may be located. The two 'worlds', rather dogmatically, seem to have been made equal and contemporary, independent, and whole, open to scrutiny and altogether understandable in a single stroke.
While intellectually enticing, such a presupposition remains fundamentally incorrect, since the 'centre' abides in that unspoken element ('the self') which enjoys the privilege of non-scrutiny in the phrase 'East-West'. It is not so much that a centre cannot be found, but that its nature appears to be too malleable to act as a focus point.
Since the notion of 'centre' is inseparable from that of 'self' – a self that generates phenomena such as exile and conquest – the East-West ('self'/'other') dichotomy cannot be interpreted in narrow geographical terms.
Human attachment to personal and geographical values is at the origin of the principles of tradition and of our unabated desire for their renewal. For example, Motherland/Fatherland and Nation are prevalent concepts that encourage strong sentiments amongst the inhabitants of any part of the world, even though a clear definition of what they stand for is not easily achieved.1
The Australian literary critic Con Castan has crafted a satisfying explanation of the concept which most closely approximates the principle of nationhood within the Western tradition:
The word "topos" then, as I am using it, denotes one's native "spot", the place of one's birth and growth. But it carries richer and stronger connotations than any word or phrase that I can think of in English. And that is because as well as meaning "native place" it bears a sense of continuity, of a single life lived continuously within it, and of the continuity of that life with the lives that were lived there before it and will be lived there in the future.2
The ancient Chinese called their land Zhong Guo 中國 (Central Country)3 and their intent was with articulating the attributes of a fertile land located over the middle and lower reaches of the Huang He 黃河 (Yellow River). This toponymic, which is in current use, emphasises not only the geographical element of origin but its centrality to culture and race. Through the continued use of the word zhong 中, the Chinese seem to have harboured very few doubts about their relative importance as a nation and appear to be impervious to the tension created by such a conception (i.e., centre versus periphery). In fact, it is difficult not to become suspicious of the translation handed down by Western interpreters.
The word 'China' corresponds to the phonetic transcription of Qin 秦(Ch'in) (221-207 BC), the bloody dynasty that first united part of the territories we now call China under a single rule. The designation 'China' was used in print as early as 1516 in Barbosa and by García de Orta in 1563,4 and did not coincide with the country's proper name as referred to above.
Whether we attribute this metonymic translation to divergent opinions about the relative centralities of Europe and China, timing, or to obstacles in communication, the problem remains ultimately one of interpretation.5 Clearly, a name like 'Middle Kingdom' or 'Central Country' might have created at least some discomfort and certainly startled the political sensibility of foreign visitors and powers to China.6 The question extends into philosophy and politics.7
Westerners, in their interpretation of the name of this foreign land concur in a violation of conventional reality by misconstruing the Zhong Guo (中國Central Country-Kingdom) they themselves choose to see as "China", demystifying the powerful image provided by a literal translation and imposing a name that clings to a metonymic rendering and does not abide by the standards held for the naming of nations in the West.8
As a Chinese traditional conception, 'centrality' (zhong 中) and, by extension, such a notion as that denoted by ‘Central Country’, are still intrinsically related to concepts outlining a reality beyond the solely geographical compass, yet all such concepts are part of a single cosmology. Notions like xin 信 (trust) and qi 氣 (original energy) are not only coterminous within the scope of 'centrality', but they are also, 'central' to the political and philosophical inceptions at the base of Chinese civilisation.9
Therefore, choosing a geographical set of parameters as sole reference for the comparison or assessment of phenomena occurring in one part of the world, becomes a throwaway mechanism. In doing so, we run the risk of overriding the basic cognitive categories inherent to that environment and turning comparative practice into an exercise in appropriation of the 'other'. The tools handled by the critic cannot but belong to one of the poles of such blunt dualism.
On the other hand, if we opt for developing our investigations beyond a purely referential setting, be it geographical or cultural, then, it is also true to say that we may become absorbed or allow ourselves to be influenced by the environment under scrutiny. Following such a trend, inter-cultural undertakings become de-centralised, open to criticism from a variety of traditions and cannot be said to represent exclusively any of the perspectives particular to an individual cultural tradition.
A fitting paradigm for this process of inexorable assimilation can be found in a tradition based on oral history like that of Australian Aborigines. In the Aboriginal story-making process, the practices of recording and transmission of information about individuals active in a specific geographic area contribute to the myth-making exercise which, in turn, provides coming generations with their common law of behaviour.10
The Aborigine is born into a personal totem-ancestor relationship which automatically makes each individual a custodian of the myth.11 The inner life of an Aborigine is the ancestor's dream, and finds immediate expression in the outer world. Subjectivity configures objectivity, while the latter returns its due to memory in the form of mythmaking. The 'self' fashions the 'other' through its contributions to the myth. People and their activities are incorporated into the running record of life by being allowed to perform a role in the mythical pattern of the society in question.
Linda W. L. Young begins her socio-linguistic study Cross-talk and Culture in Sino-American Communication12 by acknowledging that "the unstated, culturally defined expectations which Chinese and Westerners bring to their face-to-face interactions do not coincide".
North Americans have, by and large, led modern research into Chinese topics and it is fair to say that, despite their efforts, the comparative philosophical, cultural, and literary criticism between the West and China has been, until recently, a field where both cultural traditions have appeared captivated by the other's cultural expression without however finding much common ground but that of unending reinterpretation.
Westerners, overall, tend to apply their microscopic, highly precise instruments of criticism in a constant reappraisal of forms, topics, concepts, and works of art in the Chinese tradition which lend themselves to such 'twisting and turning'. Their conclusions are like flashes of lightning discovering the immensity of possibilities for a single illuminating moment.
Chinese criticism on the other hand, basks in the sunny pool of a tradition that has undergone millennia of both native and foreign reinterpretation and finds it difficult to separate the commentary from the 'original'. The cumulative effect of such varied discourse offers the Chinese critic a sense of security and centrality which s/he finds difficult to abandon for the seemingly rootless speculations of her/his Western colleague.
This is because the Chinese cultural tradition, if it is to respond to criticism, demands an immersion into its ways, or, in other words, it demands a compliance with its alleged centrality.13
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On Solid Ground: Ezra Pound’s Metaphor of Knowledge - The Confucian Context
Though it may be hard to precisely define the nature and origin of such sentiments, the real-world consequences they trigger in life and death situations such as wars and sovereign claims (as has been clearly shown in Ukraine), are not that difficult to identify.
(Castan, 1990, p.2).
Julia Ching has written in the first paragraph of her book Chinese Religions: “For thousands of years, Europe and China each thought of itself as the centre of its known and inhabited world. The Greek term was oikoumene, and the Mediterranean called itself this. China, on the other hand, was to its own people 'all under Heaven' (Tianxia天下) or the 'Middle Kingdom' (Zhongguo 中國), a civilized oasis surrounded by what was thought to be a cultural desert.” (Ching, 1993, p. 1)
(Oxford University, 1985, p. 398). The辭海 (Ci Hai or Sea of Words), a Chinese encyclopaedic dictionary explains: “The meaning of中國 zhong guo in ancient times was not standardised. It either designated the capital city as the 'central kingdom' ... , the territory occupied by the Hua Xia or Han Chinese tribes (flanked in all four directions by the barbarian tribes) ... , or the site of the Hua Xia and Han Chinese tribal cities along the northern and southern shores of the Huang He river; in which case zhong guo 中國 could be considered homonymous with 'zhong tu' 中土 (central land), 'zhong yuan' 中原 (central plain), 'zhong zhou' 中州 (central administrative division), 'zhong xia' 中夏 (central Xia tribal territory), or 'zhong hua' 中華 (central Hua tribal territory).” My translation, (辞海上海辞书出版学会 Lexicographical Publishing Society, 1979, p. 3222)
Ernest Fenollosa has provided useful information about the origins of the word "China". He writes: “The rapidly expanding influence of China upon surrounding peoples must have reached our Western world of the Mediterranean precisely at this dramatic moment [around 200 BC]; for though the violent Tsin [Qin 秦] dynasty lasted only forty years [Fenollosa says the Qin prevailed between 240-207 BC], it contributed its name Sin, or Chin; and Sines, Sinico, and so the final form 'China,' to the earliest accounts of it written by the Greek geographers of the Ptolemaic school. A little later, [sic] the second century BC, China became known to the Greco-Roman world under an entirely different epithet, the Ser, or Seres, a people far to the north-east, from whom was brought by caravan route the precious fabric known by the Greek-formed adjective Serika or Serik, whence our word silk.” (Fenollosa, Epochs of Chinese and Japanese Art: An Outline History of Asiatic Design, 1963, (first published in 1913), Vol. I, p. 17)
In the times prior to the discovery of America, cartography had developed extensively, and the Mediterranean basin was being represented with accuracy. However, maps of the World still conveyed Christian beliefs, and some even showed Jerusalem as its centre.
The form "Cathay" is even more revealing. The Chinese characters from which such form was transliterated are 國 guo which means 'country/kingdom' and 泰 tai which can be translated as 'eminent/supreme' and carries connotations of harmonious development in ancient Chinese philosophy. Ironically however, the (Oxford University, 1985) does not contain an entry for "Cathay", but provides the following definition for the prefix “"Cata". Cata: (kata), cat, cath, (Gr. -, -, -, a preposition used in comp. with the senses a. down (locally); b. down (of diminution, reduction, consumption, waste, away, entirely, 'up'; c. implying disparagement or abuse (=mis); d. inferior, subsidiary; e. down upon, against (as blows fall); f. against and reflected back, hence, answering to, according to, alongside of, each to each; g. intensive, downright, thoroughly, completely; h. hence, like Eng. be-, making transitive. All these senses occur in Eng. words into which cata- enters; most of these are adapted or formed from compounds already made in Greek, others follow or extend Greek analogies.”
The naming of European kingdoms, as a rule, did not automatically impose the name of their ruling dynasties on the lands under their control. Although everyone knows the great power held by family lines like the Habsburgs, the Windsors, the Romanovs and the Bourbons, no country, however unified, chose to directly name the land they governed after the name of the reigning dynasties.
In the Chinese conception of universal relationships developed by Song scholars and ultimately traceable to the Yi Jing 易經 (Book of Changes) there exists a permanent relation among the directions of the compass, numerology, the five elements, the basic colours and tastes, and human qualities among other things. Thus, the Centre 中 (zhong) is associated with xin 信 (trust), qi 氣 (original energy), tu 土 (earth, soil, land), with wu 五 (number 5) and with wu 戊 (the 5th of the ten celestial stems used to calculate time measurements). The South 南 (nan) is associated with li 禮 (ritual), shen 神 (original spirit), huo 火 (fire), qi七 (number 7) and with bing 丙 (the 3rd of the celestial stems). The North 北 (bei) is associated with zhi 智 (knowledge), jing 精 (original essence), shui 水 (water), yi 一 (number 1), and with ren 壬 (the 9th of the celestial stems). The East 東 (dong) is associated with ren 仁 (humanity), xing 性 (natural disposition), mu 木 (wood), san 三 (number 3), and with jia 甲 (the 1st of the celestial stems). The West 西 (xi) is associated with yi 義 (rightness), qing 情 (emotion), jin 金 (gold-metal), jiu 九 (number 9), and with geng 庚 (the 7th of the celestial stems). It is remarkable that ‘the centre’ does not have a corresponding, express role in Western multidirectional narratives (East, West, North and South) and that, as such, Western cultures assume and conflate ‘a/the centre’ with the unnamed space occupied by the observer or self, as has been stated in the first paragraph of this chapter.
Archaeological findings in South Australia are believed to be the oldest human rock carvings in the world. According to the researchers, their function was to communicate the basic forms of tribal behaviour.
The definition of a totem according to (Nyoongah, 1994, p. 162) reads as follows: “Totems (or Dreamings) are one way of ordering the universe and the species therein. In the Dreamtime human beings were one with their Dreaming – humankind were yams [tropical plant], ants, owls, particular fish, waterlilies, turkeys, emus, wallabies, kangaroos and so on. Totem beings, the particular creative ancestors, often descended into the earth at particular places or energized particular places linked with a particular species. These djang ["energy stored in a sacred place"], thalu ["strong places of the Earth"] or wunggud places are where those belonging to a particular totem or Dreaming go to activate the life force which ensures that a particular species continues on. Totem, or Dreaming, and person are intimately connected, and he or she has been given the task to continue the totemic species. It is the law passed down from the Dreamtime ancestors.”
(Young L. W.-A., 1994, p. 1).
The metaphor of lightning used here has been developed to a large degree by Godzich (Godzich, 1994, pp. 149-50). His conclusions on the nature of reading as a formative factor in our understanding of culture can be used here to place our present effort within the scope of an eclectic landscape of information alternatives that will prove useful in dealing with Ezra Pound's Confucianism. Godzich writes: “There appear to be, then, two competing notions of expression at work here [Godzich is analysing Paul de Man's evolution as a critic and his comments are meant to be valid within the fields of Western literary criticism and philosophy]; the first is based upon the familiar model of the apparent and the hidden, where the hidden holds the key to the existential necessity of the apparent; whereas the second overcomes this model with an altogether different notion of the expression whose matrix is light. In opposition to the inside/outside dialectic of the first theory of expression, the model of lightning proposes a perfect congruence between the expression and that which is expressed. Lightning cannot be said to be hidden before its manifestation, but rather it expresses itself (if the word applies) fully in the instant of its illumination. In fact, it suspends the difference between the manifest and the manifesting, producing in its instantaneity a moment of perfect presence. However, the punctual brevity of its flash is such as to displace its significance away from itself onto the surrounding darkness whose internal composition it reveals ... The flash is not the secret but the occasion of the moment when all is in the light - the reward for peering into the dark. Although quite different in their characterization of the mode of being of that which we presumably read for, the two theories of expression are far from incompatible. Indeed, a dialectical necessity unites them, for the patience in the practice of perception enjoined by the first would be far too aleatory without the guarantee of revelation provided by the second, while the latter needs the ascetic practice of the first to avoid falling into the trap of understanding by the predestination of the elect only. Each needs the other as well as a discipline, in the sense of Ignatius of Loyola: the first to ensure that lightning does strike; the second, even more formidably, that it strike repeatedly, at will, in the same place and with the same intensity. Such a desideratum reveals at once the limitations of the model of lightning – it is well known that in nature lightning tends to be rather mobile – and the inordinate ambition of these theories of expression underlying the most common practice of reading. Yet this limitation and its ambition are two parameters of the question of methodology, for what is a method, but a procedure designed to produce at will a certain result through the adoption of specific steps, treating the text as a given that can be made to yield its inner configuration?”
Interesting linguistics insights- thanks for sharing. Would you mind explaining what is the meaning of centrality please. Is this anything relevant to geographic perspective of China.