[L. 3]   11 January 1964

Dear Mrs. Quittner,[1]

As far as I can gather from what you say, it may be such that you are one of the (regrettably) few people to whom the Notes are really addressed. So I think that I ought to give you the opportunity -- if you want it -- of writing direct to me about things in the Notes that are not clear to you. Many things, certainly, are difficult in themselves, and more words about them will probably not help much; but there may be other things about which the Notes are unnecessarily obscure, and perhaps also things left out without any apparent reason; and here some further discussion might be useful. (In this connexion, your lament that the notes on námarúpa are inadequate may be justified. In the first place, however, a certain amount of amplification will be found in other notes[a] and in the second place, I am not at all sure that a detailed study of the intricacies of námarúpa -- particularly à la Ñánavíra -- may not easily become a misdirection of effort: the very fact that the Notes say considerably more on this question than is to be found in the Suttas is already a doubtful recommendation. See Notes, RÚPA, last paragraph, third sentence from the end. But in these days of printed books a greater detail is demanded, and is perhaps not entirely objectionable. In any case, to say more I should have to say a lot more; and though the flesh is willing, the spirit is weak.)

I am by no means vexed that, as well as commendable, you should have found the book 'arrogant, scathing, and condescending', since the fact that it seems so is not altogether unintentional -- though, also, it is not wholly a contrived effect. The individual notes were, for the most part, originally inscribed in the margins of my P.T.S. dictionary,[2] without any immediate thought of publication. And yet, they were written in exactly the same tone as what you find in the present book.[b] In transcribing the notes for publication it was not through negligence that no attempt was made to alter the style: I preserved it knowing quite well that it would keep the reader at a distance -- which was what I wanted. Certainly, it is galling for the European (and perhaps not galling enough for the Oriental) to be treated as if he had no opinion worth consulting: the European reader expects his author to submit his reasons for what he says, so as to enable the reader to judge for himself; the author is required to take the reader into his confidence, and if he does not it is resented. In dealing with rational matters this is quite in order; both parties are assumed to have the same objective point of view (the same absence of point of view, in other words), and the reader follows the author's arguments in order to decide whether he agrees or disagrees; and having done so, he shuts the book and passes on to the next. But if the question at issue is not within the sphere of reason, all this is a misunderstanding. If the book is an invitation, or perhaps a challenge, to the reader to come and share the author's point of view (which may require him first to adopt some point of view instead of remaining objectively without any at all), it obviously defeats its own purpose if it starts out by allowing the reader to assume that he already does so. (At this point, I would refer you to three Suttas of the Anguttara: V,xvi,1-3: iii,174-6, i.e. Book of the Fives, Suttas 151-153, or the first three of the Saddhamma Vagga.[3]) In a live discussion, or in a correspondence, the appropriate relationship can perhaps be established gradually and painlessly; but in a book, impersonally addressed to unknown readers, the situation is less accomodating, and some outrage to the reader's self-respect (especially if it is what Camus calls 'l'orgueil européen'[4]) must be expected. Without presuming to say whether the Notes are adequate in this respect, I shall try to show what I mean by referring to a point that you yourself have raised.

In your letter you have remarked -- presumably with reference to note (a) of the Preface -- that the author, with a few strokes of the pen, has reduced the three baskets to two,[5] and that without giving any reasons. It is now 2500 years after the parinibbána,[6] and we find ourselves faced with a large accumulation of texts (to speak only of the Pali), some certainly reporting what the Buddha actually said, and others, no less certainly, the work of commentators, scholiasts, and so on; but one and all claiming to represent -- or rather, claimed by Tradition as representing -- the Buddha's true and original Teaching. The first difficulty, today, is to get started: it is obvious enough that we cannot accept all these texts, but where are we to draw the line? All we can do is to make a preliminary critical survey, and then, with an intelligent guess, divide the texts into those we will accept and those we will not. Having made the division we lay aside the critical attitude and set to work to grasp the Teaching. It would not be unduly difficult in the Notes to muster an array of critical arguments leading to the rejection of the Abhidhamma Pitaka. But at once the reader would have something positive and objective to seize hold of, and a learned controversy would start up moving more and more passionately away from the point at issue. 'In general,' says Kierkegaard,

all that is needed to make the question simple and easy is the exercise of a certain dietetic circumspection, the renunciation of every learned interpolation or subordinate consideration, which in a trice might degenerate into a century-long parenthesis. (CUP, pp. 29-30)

Do not forget that the book is written in Ceylon and not in England. With you there is no sacrosanct Buddhist tradition, and people will listen to new ideas proclaimed even in a normal tone of voice: here it is quite otherwise. People will listen, but only if the unfamiliar is uttered loudly and firmly enough to inspire them with courage to think against tradition. Once the ice is broken they may take the plunge; and one or two already -- laymen -- seem to have embarked on a serious study of the Notes. The few English-speaking monks who have seen the book mostly don't like it, but traditional orthodoxy does not have the same official backing here as it does in hard-headed Burma. We have thought it prudent not to send copies to the two pirivena universities here, which are strongholds of Sinhalese Nationalism; but we have received a polite letter from the Librarian of the Maha-Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok saying that the book will be 'a useful work of reference' for the many monks of various nationalities who come to study there. There is a certain ambiguity about the Siamese that I have not yet fathomed.




[L. 4]   12 April 1964

Many thanks for your letter. If you feel like it, and if I am still about the place, by all means come and see me when you next visit Ceylon. I shall be only too happy to discuss things with you; but, at the same time, I rather fancy that I am less proficient at talking than at writing. Although earlier I did discourage both visitors and correspondents, the situation has since changed. My chronic digestive disorder has worsened and has now been joined by a nervous complaint (caused, ironically enough, by a drug prescribed to cure the amoebiasis), and the combination drastically reduces the time I can devote to practice: in consequence of this I have to get through my day as best I can with thinking, reading, and writing (it is only on this account that the Notes have made their appearance). So outside disturbances are now sometimes positively welcome.

Possibly the Ven. monk, in saying that paticcasamuppáda is taught in the present by Burmese and Siamese meditation masters, was referring to the Vibhanga or Patisambhidá interpretations mentioned at the foot of p. 676 (Ch. XVII, n. 48) of the Ven. Ñánamoli Thera's Path of Purification (Visuddhimagga translation).[1] I admit that I have not investigated these, but from all accounts they are unsatisfactory. In any case, the paticcasamuppáda formulation (as I see it) does not admit of alternative interpretations -- there is one and one only. I do not see that anyone offering a number of different interpretations as equally valid can possibly be right in any of them. (It is quite possible that someone actually reaching sotápatti, and therefore seeing paticcasamuppáda for himself, might still hesitate before deciding on the meaning of the expanded -- twelve term -- formulation, since what he sees for himself is Imasmim sati idam hoti,[2] etc., and not its expansion in terms -- avijjá, sankhárá, and so on -- whose meaning he may not know. But one thing is certain: whatever interpretation he gives will be in conformity with his private knowledge, Imasmim sati..., and since he has already grasped the essence of the matter he will not look around for alternative interpretations.) But the Ven. Thera may have had something else in mind when he spoke.

There are several new references to, and quotations from, Bradley. I had already referred to him in ANICCA [a] without having read him, and merely on the strength of what others have said about him. But now I am actually in the course of reading his Principles of Logic, and I find that the reference was fully justified. It is satisfactory (and satisfying) to find someone else who has had the same thoughts (within limits, naturally) as oneself, particularly after the singularly depressing experience of reading some of the more recent English philosophers (Bertrand Russell & Co.). Bradley's idealism won't do, of course; but it is incomparably better than the current realism.

I am always pleased when I find a connexion between the Suttas and outside philosophies: it is not, to be sure, that the former can be reduced to the latter -- the Dhamma is not just one way of thinking amongst others --, but rather that the Buddha has seen all that these philosophers have seen, and he has also seen what they could not see; and to discover this is extraordinarily exhilarating. Nobody can say to the Buddha, 'There is this or that that you have not taken into account'[3]: it is all taken into account, and still more. The Suttas give not the slightest pretext for the famous Sacrifice of the Intellect -- Ignatius Loyola and Bodhidharma are strange bedfellows, indeed. Certainly there is more to the Dhamma than intellect (and this is sometimes hard for Europeans to understand), but there is nothing to justify the wilful abandonment of the Principle of Identity.

People, mostly, seem to be finding it difficult to make very much of the Notes (I, too, find it difficult sometimes, so I cannot say that I am astonished). The university professors who have had copies are silent except one from America who (very politely) attributes their unintelligibility to his ignorance of Pali, but whether this excuses me or him is not quite clear. Few bhikkhus have had copies, but one has remarked that 'they contain a lot of mistakes' -- which, from the traditional point of view, is quite true. This would probably be the opinion of the great majority, who, however, would perhaps add that, in a foreigner, it is excusable. Laymen here are sometimes interested, and at all events not hostile (except for one, who has been provoked to a fit of indiscriminate xenophobic fury, embracing Dahlke and the Ven. Nyánatiloka Maháthera[4] as well as myself -- also strange bedfellows!). Expressions of approval have come from Germany and 'Les Amis du Bouddhisme' of Paris, I am pleased to learn, are enthusiastic. About thirty copies went to England, but (apart from a bare acknowledgement from Nottingham, and a brief note from a personal acquaintance) yours has been the only comment we have received. Of course, it is not easy to know to whom to send, and the choice of addresses is largely a matter of chance.




[L. 5]   14 July 1964

The Principle (or Law) of Identity is usually stated as 'A is A', which can be understood as 'Everything is what it is'. Bradley (PL, Ch. V, p. 141) remarks that, in this form, it is a tautology and says nothing at all.

It does not even assert identity. For identity without difference is nothing at all. It takes two to make the same, and the least we can have is some change of event in a self-same thing, or the return to that thing from some suggested difference. For, otherwise, to say "it is the same as itself" would be quite unmeaning.

The traditional interpretation of the law is metaphysical. If "A" be regarded as symbolizing a subject of attributes, then the formula may be interpreted as expressing the permanence of substance, or the persisting of something through change.

In referring to Loyola and Bodhidharma in my last letter, I had in mind two 'wilful abandonments of the Principle of Identity'. (i) Loyola: 'In order never to go astray, we must always be ready to believe that what I, personally, see as white is black, if the hierarchical Church defines it so.' (ii) Bodhidharma (or, rather, a modern disciple of his, in an article -- 'Mysticism & Zen', I think -- in The Middle Way[1]): 'The basic principle of Zen is "A is not A".' (Note, in parenthesis, that once people start denying the Principle of Identity the question may arise whether the bare statement 'A is A' is quite as meaningless as Bradley supposes. A lot has been made in modern French writing, philosophical as well as literary, of Audiberti's imaginative phrase la noirceur secrète du lait;[2] and this suggests that it may not be altogether meaningless to assert the contrary, 'white is white'. This might perhaps seem trivial, except that a great deal of modern thinking -- including mathematics -- is based on a deliberate rejection of one or another of the Laws of Thought, of which Identity is the first. This may be all very well in poetry or physics, but it won't do in philosophy -- I mean as a fundamental principle. Every ambiguity, for a philosopher, should be a sign that he has further to go.)

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Footnotes:

[3.a] In general, as you get more familiar with the book you may find that difficulties raised in one part are answered -- or partly -- in another. [Back to text]

[3.b] A man, cast up alone on a desert island, might, after a time, and seeing no other people, give up wearing clothes without feeling immodest. Some strangers, landing on his island many years later and seeing him, might tell him about his immodesty in emphatic terms. But by that time he would quite likely have forgotten what the word means. So it is with one's thoughts. After a certain time in solitude they forget their modesty and go about naked. If one then shows them to a stranger without clothing them decently, he may well find them arrogant. But the word is no longer familiar. (I am, in any case, something of a solitary by nature, sadly lacking in warmth of feeling either for or against other people. This, really, is the unpardonable offence, and all the rest follows from it.) [Back to text]

Editorial notes:

[3.1] Mrs. Irene R. Quittner (1909-1984) was a prominent figure among British Buddhists. A few details that led to this correspondence are given in L. 80 and L. 84. [Back to text]

[3.2] P.T.S.: The Pali Text Society (73 Lime Walk, Headington, Oxford, OX3 7AD, England) has published all the Sutta and Vinaya texts in both the original Pali (roman-script) and in translation, as well as a Pali-English dictionary and other scholarly aids. [Back to text]

[3.3] Book of the Fives: 'Monks, endowed with five things one is unable, even when hearing the true Teaching, to get down to sure practice, the correct way in skilful things. Which five? He disparages the talk; he disparages the talker; he disparages himself; he hears the Teaching with a distracted mind lacking one-pointedness; he pays improper attention.' <A. V,xvi,1> The next two Suttas differ from this Sutta by substituting, in xvi,2, 'he has a poor understanding, is dull or witless' and 'he conceives as directly known what has not been directly known' for the last two terms and, in xvi,3, also substituting 'he hears the Teaching with contempt, obsessed with contempt', 'he hears the Teaching with a censorious mind, looking for faults', and 'regarding the one who expounds the Teaching his mind is upset and has become (non-receptive) like barren ground' for the first three terms. [Back to text]

[3.4] l'orgueil européen: 'The prodigous history evoked here is the history of European pride.' (The Rebel, p. 16) [Back to text]

[3.5] Three baskets: The Pali Canon is known, collectively, as the Tipitaka, the Three Baskets, since it consists of three major sections: the Vinaya Pitaka (Basket of Discipline), Sutta Pitaka (Basket of Discourses), and Abhidhamma Pitaka (Basket of Further Truth). Readers of the Notes can hardly be unaware that the Ven. Ñánavíra Thera rejected the Abhidhamma Pitaka as a scholastic invention not representing the Buddha's Teaching. [Back to text]

[3.6] parinibbána: 'full extinction' can refer to the breaking up of the body of any arahat, but in this case it is used with specific reference to the Buddha. [Back to text]

[4.1] Path of Purification, p. 676, note 48:

The Dependent Origination, or Structure of Conditions, appears as a flexible formula with the intention of describing the ordinary human situation of a man in his world (or indeed any conscious event where ignorance and craving have not entirely ceased). ...each member has to be examined as to its nature in order to determine what its relations to the others are.... A purely cause-and-effect chain would not represent the pattern of a situation that is always complex, always subjective-objective, static-dynamic, positive-negative, and so on. Again, there is no evidence of any historical development in the various forms given within the limits of the Sutta Pitaka (leaving aside the Patisambhidámagga), and historical treatment within that particular limit is likely to mislead, if it is hypothesis with no foundation.
     In this work...the Dependent Origination is considered from only one standpoint, namely, as applicable to a period embracing a minimum of three lives. But this is not the only application. With suitable modifications it is also used in the Vibhanga to describe the structure of the Complex in each one of the 89 single type-consciousnesses laid down in the Dhammasangani; and Bhadantácariya Buddhaghosa says 'This Structure of Conditions is present not only in (a continuity period consisting of) multiple consciousness but also in each consciousness singly as well' (VbhA 199-200). Also the Patisambhidámagga gives five expositions, four describing dependent origination in one life, the fifth being made to present a special inductive generalization to extend what is observable in this life (the fact that consciousness is always preceded by consciousness...i.e. that it always has a past and is inconceivable without one) back beyond birth, and (since craving and ignorance ensure its expected continuance) on after death. There are, besides, various other, differing, applications indicated by the variant forms given in the Suttas themselves. [Back to text]

[4.2] Imasmim sati idam hoti: 'When there is this this is' -- see A NOTE ON PATICCASAMUPPÁDA. [Back to text]

[4.3] 'Nobody can say...': See A. VII,55: iv,83: 'Monks, the Tathágata is one whose Teaching is well-proclaimed. Herein, monks, I see no sign that any recluse or divine or Evil One or Divinity or anyone else in the world should rightly reprove me: "In this way you are one whose Teaching is not well-proclaimed." And, monks, seeing no such sign, I dwell attained to security, attained to fearlessness, attained to confidence.' [Back to text]

[4.4] Dahlke...: The Ven. Nyánatiloka Maháthera (1878-1957), a prolific Buddhist scholar, was a follower of the traditional Commentarial view. Paul Dahlke was a more independent-minded German writer and lay-leader. [Back to text]

[5.1] The Middle Way: the organ of the London Buddhist Society. [Back to text]

[5.2] Audiberti: the secret blackness of milk. [Jacques Audiberti -- 1899-1965 -- was a French poet, playwright, and novelist noted for his extravagance of language.] [Back to text]