As the title implies, the aim of Paul Fisher’s Self-Cultivation in Early China is to examine the concept of self-cultivation in early China, specifically from around 500 to 100 BCE (3). By self-cultivation, Fischer means the “pursuit of three distinct but related goals: individual health, social harmony, and environmental concord . . .” (1). His approach is philosophical rather than historical, and he seeks to make this book accessible and relevant to the modern reader. In keeping with the idea of accessibility, the tone is sometimes conversational, sometimes more academic, and the reader gets the impression they are being taken on a journey through ancient Chinese beliefs and practices regarding the body and the soul. Fischer has an impressive command of a large body of texts spanning from approximately the 10th through the 1st centuries BCE, and he quotes abundantly from these sources, demonstrating his skill in translating early Chinese texts. At the same time, the journey can at times be disorienting as there are methodological issues with the book that make it difficult to make sense of the topic of self-cultivation, both for the advanced scholar as well as a reader new to ancient Chinese thought.
For one, there is the problem of hermeneutics. To study the topic of self-cultivation in early China, or any topic for that matter, there needs to be a hermeneutic, an interpretive apparatus, that provides context regarding either who the main authors/texts of this topic are or, in this case, what the general “schools” of thought of ancient China were. Fischer provides neither of these, and explains: “I only want to outline what self-cultivation meant in early China, not what it meant to a particular author or in a particular text. Likewise, which schools of thought emphasized which aspects of that outline are not of concern to my project” (11). For him, then, there is no organizing principle or hermeneutical strategy beyond his “syncretic” approach. For the general reader, and even for the advanced scholar, this can be very disorienting. For example, the Zhuangzi is a text said to be written by a scholar named Zhuang Zhou (from approximately the 4th-3rd centuries BCE). While it is traditionally attributed to this scholar, it is now thought to have been written by several hands over many centuries. These are the types of basic facts that would be very helpful for a book aimed at general readers and undergraduates. But Fischer gives no background information about the Zhuangzi, nor for any of the other major Chinese thinkers.
Instead of having a focused view of the concept of self-cultivation with an established hermeneutic, we are given topical treatments of different concepts. In the section on the person, for example, there are chapters on the concepts of body, nature, and mind. In each chapter Fischer offers many views from scholars concerning these topics. But there is no overarching argument, and the result is that the views of each scholar seem disjointed, leaving the reader unsatisfied. In chapter 2, for instance, Fischer states that “’Human nature’ is an idea that is both fractured and contested” (77). This is true only if we attempt to syncretize all the varying views on human nature. Is human nature universal? Is it good or evil? These are all different views on human nature in early China, and it is commendable that Fischer outlines them. But because he does not have a focused hermeneutical lens, the reader has no takeaway point.
Of particular concern is Fischer’s treatment of the Zhuangzi’s views on human nature, where he states that “the evidence from the Zhuangzi is mixed” and mentions that the Zhuangzi espouses different theories on human nature (82, footnote 12). He claims, because of the polyvalent nature of the text, that it is “contradictory and cancels itself out” (82, footnote 12). Saying that the Zhuangzi has mixed views, and therefore discounting it, is an easy out for Fischer that does not account for the complexity of the text, which has several important views on human nature worth discussing.
Despite these shortcomings, there are some bright points. The number of sources and the depth of research in this work is truly impressive and not an easy task by any measure. That Fischer uses comparisons and analogies to make the content accessible to the modern reader is also laudable. However, attempting to view these sources through a syncretic lens is a difficult endeavor because there was no overarching view on these topics. Moreover, he states that his aim is to make this book accessible to the general reader but does not provide the tools to do so. At the same time, for the scholar of early China, his statements often seem rudimentary. In the final analysis, the result is a book that is flawed in methodology—too advanced for the non-specialist, and yet too elementary for the seasoned academic.
Adrien Stoloff is an assistant teaching professor of philosophy and religion at Worcester Polytechnic Institute.
Adrien Stoloff
Date Of Review:
March 13, 2024