On 300 Poems of the T’ong Dynasty

I recently completed reading Three Hundred Poems of the T’ong Dynasty (Taipei, 1965), the traditional anthology of Tang Dynasty poetry compiled by Sun Zhu (孫洙, 1711–1778), who wrote under the name Hengtang Tuishi (蘅塘退士). The English translations in this edition are those associated with Witter Bynner and Kiang Kang-hu, originally published as The Jade Mountain: A Chinese Anthology, Being Three Hundred Poems of the T’ang Dynasty, 618–906.

I have written the original poems that I especially liked below with new machine translations into English. For now, I chose these as my favorite poems from the Three Hundred Poems because they concern themes that repeatedly interested me while reading: individual ability and worth, recognition and failure within institutions, public versus private life, independence, friendship, separation and return, the passage of time, and maintaining personal integrity against adversity.

Next on the poetry reading list is the “Classic of Poetry, also Shijing (詩經) or Shih-ching, translated variously as the Book of Songs, Book of Odes, or simply Odes.”

Taking Leave of Wang Wei – Meng Haoran

留別王維

寂寂竟何待,
朝朝空自歸。
欲尋芳草去,
惜與故人違。
當路誰相假,
知音世所稀。
只應守寂寞,
還掩故園扉。

Translation

Lonely, lonely – what am I waiting for?
Day after day I return home in vain.
I would leave in search of fragrant grass,
Yet I hate to part from an old friend.
Who among those in power will lend me help?
Those who truly understand are rare in this world.
I should simply keep to my solitude
And close again the gate of my old garden.

A note – (“one who knows the music”) – A classical expression meaning someone who truly understands and recognizes another person’s talent or character.

To Qiwu Qian, Bound Home After Failing in an Examination – Wang

送綦毋潛落第還鄉

聖代無隱者,
英靈盡來歸。
遂令東山客,
不得顧採薇。
既至金門遠,
孰云吾道非?
江淮度寒食,
京洛縫春衣。
置酒長安道,
同心與我違。
行當浮桂棹,
未幾拂荊扉。
遠樹帶行客,
孤城當落暉。
吾謀適不用,
勿謂知音稀。

Translation

In a flourishing age there should be no hermits;
All men of talent should come forward to serve.
So you, a recluse of the eastern hills,
Gave up gathering herbs and came away.
You reached the Golden Gate, yet remained far from favor
Who can say that our Way was wrong?
You will cross the Jiang and Huai around the Cold Food Festival,
While spring clothes are being sewn in the northern capitals.
I pour farewell wine on the road from Chang’an,
As a kindred spirit departs from me.
Soon your cassia-wood oar will carry you home,
And before long you will brush open your rustic gate.
Distant trees will accompany the traveler;
A lonely town will meet the setting sun.
Your plans simply happened not to be accepted
Do not think there are none who recognize your music.

Note – a recluse is one who withdraws from government service, contrasts private life with trying to gain official recognition.

My Retreat at Mount Chung-Nan – Wang Wei (p. 396)

終南別業

中歲頗好道,
晚家南山陲。
興來每獨往,
勝事空自知。
行到水窮處,
坐看雲起時。
偶然值林叟,
談笑無還期。

Translation

In middle age I grew fond of the Way;
Later I made my home beside South Mountain.
Whenever the feeling comes, I wander alone,
Enjoying things that I alone understand.
I walk until the stream comes to an end,
Then sit and watch the clouds rise.
By chance I meet an old man in the woods;
We talk and laugh, forgetting the time to return.

Note – (the Way) refers to a Daoist way of life and spiritual outlook.

A Note on a Rainy Night to a Friend in the North – Li Shangyin

夜雨寄北

君問歸期未有期,
巴山夜雨漲秋池。
何當共剪西窗燭,
卻話巴山夜雨時。

Translation

You ask when I will return; there is no date yet.
Night rain on the Ba Mountains fills the autumn pools.
When shall we sit together, trimming the candle by the western window,
And talk again about this night of rain in the Ba Mountains?

Note – Mountainous refers to the region of Sichuan/eastern Chongqing.

A Night Abroad – Du Fu

旅夜書懷

細草微風岸,
危檣獨夜舟。
星垂平野闊,
月湧大江流。
名豈文章著,
官應老病休。
飄飄何所似?
天地一沙鷗。

Translation

Fine grass, a light wind along the bank;
A tall mast, a solitary boat at night.
Stars hang low above the immense plain;
The moon surges with the great river.
Is fame really something won through writing?
An official should retire only from age and illness.
Drifting, drifting-what am I like?
A lone gull between heaven and earth.

At Wang Changling’s Retreat – Chang Jian

宿王昌齡隱居 — 常建

清溪深不測,
隱處惟孤雲。
松際露微月,
清光猶為君。
茅亭宿花影,
藥院滋苔紋。
余亦謝時去,
西山鸞鶴群。

Translation

Beside a clear stream, deep beyond measuring,
You live hidden among solitary clouds.
Between the pines a faint moon appears,
Its pure light seeming especially for you.
Flower shadows rest upon your thatched pavilion;
Moss patterns grow throughout your herb garden.
I too would leave this world behind
And join the phoenixes and cranes of the western mountain.

Note – Luan birds and cranes are traditional symbols of immortals and transcendence.

A Poor Girl – Qin Taoyu

貧女 — 秦韜玉

蓬門未識綺羅香,
擬託良媒益自傷。
誰愛風流高格調?
共憐時世儉梳妝。
敢將十指誇針巧,
不把雙眉鬥畫長。
苦恨年年壓金線,
為他人作嫁衣裳。

Translation

Born behind a humble gate, she has never known the fragrance of fine silk;
She thinks of trusting a good matchmaker, yet this only deepens her sorrow.
Who values graceful character and high refinement?
Everyone admires instead the fashionable painted face.
She could proudly show the skill of her ten fingers with the needle,
But she will not compete by painting her eyebrows long.
Bitterly, year after year, she works the golden thread-
Making bridal gowns for other women.

Notes – Humble gate versus fine silks – the poem contrasts poverty and social status with refinement and ability. And “making wedding clothes for other people” – using one’s skill and labor to benefit others while receiving no reward oneself.

Crossing the Han River – Li Pin

渡漢江 – 李頻

嶺外音書絕,
經冬復歷春。
近鄉情更怯,
不敢問來人。

Translation

Beyond the mountains, all letters and news were cut off;
Winter passed, and spring came again.
The nearer I come to home, the more fearful my heart becomes-
I dare not ask the people coming from there.

A Farewell to Secretary Shu-yun at the Xie Tiao Tower in Xuanzhou – Li Bai

宣州謝朓樓餞別校書叔雲 – 李白

棄我去者,昨日之日不可留;
亂我心者,今日之日多煩憂。
長風萬里送秋雁,
對此可以酣高樓。
蓬萊文章建安骨,
中間小謝又清發。
俱懷逸興壯思飛,
欲上青天攬明月。
抽刀斷水水更流,
舉杯銷愁愁更愁。
人生在世不稱意,
明朝散髮弄扁舟。

Translation

What has abandoned me is yesterday
Yesterday cannot be kept.
What troubles my heart is today
Today is filled with sorrow.

A great wind escorts the autumn geese for ten thousand li;
Before such a sight we can drink our fill in this high tower.
Your writing has the strength of the old Jian’an masters;
Mine has something of the younger Xie’s clarity and brilliance.
Both of us cherish soaring thoughts and magnificent ambitions,
Longing to rise into the blue sky and embrace the bright moon.

Draw a sword to cut the water-the water flows more strongly;
Raise a cup to banish sorrow-the sorrow grows still greater.
Since life in this world cannot satisfy the heart,
Tomorrow I will loosen my hair and take to a little boat.

Notes – “Penglai” imperial literary world, “Jian’an style” suggests strong, forceful writing, and “Little Xie” refers to the poet Xie Tiao, associated with clarity and elegance. And “loosen my hair and take to a small boat.” – Loosened hair is rejecting official formality and withdrawing from public life; the little boat represents freedom from worldly obligations.

Bringing in the Wine – Li Bai

將進酒 – 李白

君不見黃河之水天上來,
奔流到海不復回?
君不見高堂明鏡悲白髮,
朝如青絲暮成雪?

人生得意須盡歡,
莫使金樽空對月。
天生我材必有用,
千金散盡還復來。

烹羊宰牛且為樂,
會須一飲三百杯。
岑夫子,丹丘生,
將進酒,杯莫停。

與君歌一曲,
請君為我傾耳聽。
鐘鼓饌玉不足貴,
但願長醉不願醒。

古來聖賢皆寂寞,
惟有飲者留其名。
陳王昔時宴平樂,
斗酒十千恣歡謔。

主人何為言少錢?
徑須沽取對君酌。
五花馬,千金裘,
呼兒將出換美酒,
與爾同銷萬古愁。

Translation

Do you not see the waters of the Yellow River coming down from heaven,
Rushing to the sea, never to return?
Do you not see, in the bright mirror of the great hall, sorrow over white hair-
Black silk in the morning, turned to snow by evening?

When life goes well, we must enjoy it to the full;
Never let the golden cup stand empty beneath the moon.
Heaven gave me talents that surely have their use;
A thousand pieces of gold, once spent, will come again.

Cook the sheep, slaughter the ox, and let us be merry;
When we drink, let it be three hundred cups at a time.
Master Cen! Danqiu, my friend!
Bring in the wine-do not let the cups stop.

I will sing you a song;
Please incline your ears and listen.
Bells and drums, fine food and treasures are not worth valuing;
I only wish to remain drunk and never wake.

From ancient times, sages and worthy men have all been lonely;
Only the great drinkers have left their names behind.
Long ago the Prince of Chen feasted at Pingle,
Spending ten thousand on wine in extravagant delight.

Host, why say that money is short?
Go at once and buy wine for us.
The five-flowered horse, the coat worth a thousand gold-
Call the boy to take them out and exchange them for fine wine,
And together with you I will dissolve the sorrow of ten thousand ages.

Notes – 鐘鼓饌玉 – “bells and drums, delicacies and jade” may be shorthand for wealth, luxury, and high social status. 萬古愁 – “the sorrow of ten thousand ages” is the universal sorrow of mortality, frustration, and the passing of time.

Kitsch, Camp, and Ugliness

Ugliness can belong to judgments we make about people, periods, and other social classes. For example, a Gothic cathedral can be barbarous in one century and protected as a masterpiece in another. A body admired in one period can look strange in another, and the object remains while judgment changes.

This extends the problem I wrote about in Ugliness in Art – Redemption & Romanticism, where ugliness is material for art rather than a failure of beauty – see https://saemiller.com/2026/06/07/ugliness-in-art-redemption-romanticism/ Saverio Bettinelli could regard Dante as coarse. Gothic architecture itself was treated by many later Europeans as primitive and barbarous. The same buildings are now preserved as high achievements of European art. This is like the Eiffel Tower, which I discussed previously. The artists who protested against Eiffel were seeing a new form through a previous visual philosophy. Iron, exposed structure, and industrial scale violated what Paris was expected to look like. Eventually the tower became part of the city itself – see https://saemiller.com/2026/08/21/the-eiffel-tower-and-industrial-beauty/.

We compare what we see with what we have already learned to recognize. In Eros Barefoot, Beauty Unfinished, I considered a related problem. Once proportion becomes a rule then a departure from rule is a defect – see https://saemiller.com/2026/01/17/eros-barefoot-beauty-unfinished/ That is, beauty can be natural after its conventions have become familiar.

Ugliness can combined to be social through personal taste. The leisure class has often regarded the tastes of the working class as vulgar. Established wealth may regard new wealth as vulgar because it is displayed too openly. For example, a room can contain expensive stone, gold, furniture, paintings, and fabrics, and still be judged cheap. Their offense is a failure to follow an accepted measure.

Kitsch develops from this problem of taste. Garden gnomes, devotional pictures, fake Venetian canals, decorative lamps, political monuments, sentimental paintings, and reproductions of older styles can all be called kitsch. Schopenhauer approached the problem through seventeenth century Dutch paintings of food. If painted fruit mainly makes the observer hungry, then the work stimulates appetite rather than contemplation. Hermann Broch treated this production of effects more severely. Kitsch tries to produce the response reliably, and beauty, sadness, eroticism, dignity, nostalgia, and grandeur become the product.

Excellent art also produces effects – Michelangelo can produce grandeur, religious art can produce devotion, music can produce sadness, but art is not kitsch merely because it moves us. Kitsch often borrows the appearance of established art to justify a simple effect.

Giovanni Boldini provides a good example, where his portraits of wealthy women are technically accomplished and often beautiful. Dresses dissolve into long brushstrokes, backgrounds become indistinct, fabrics break into motion, and parts of the picture approach abstraction. The sitter is sensual, and the rest of the painting demonstrates that the painter is modern and sophisticated. This represents two artistic systems in the same picture. The first presents the woman as an object of desire, and the second presents the portrait as serious art.

Dwight Macdonald wrote about a similar problem through his distinction between masscult and midcult. Midcult borrows discoveries from high-culture, simplifies them, and makes them available as familiar products without completely giving up the appearance of difficulty. The association with age, craft, nobility, or culture is retained after the original structure that produced it is gone. This is opposite of what Eiffel accomplished by not concealing iron beneath stone. Kitsch works by hiding a new object inside an appearance of old authority.

Returning to Camp, Susan Sontag in Notes on “Camp” (1964), described Camp as a sensibility attracted to artificiality, exaggeration, theatricality, and excess. Art Nouveau, Opera, elaborate clothing, old movies, decorative interiors, comic books, can all become camp. The best camp often requires sincerity in the original object. Sontag gives the example of the Art Nouveau craftsman making a lamp with a snake coiled around it. Excess becomes camp when another observer recognizes the difference between intention and result.

An observer who enjoys something as camp is different from the person who simply enjoys the same thing. For example, one person loves the garden gnome because it is a garden gnome, and the other loves it because he knows he should hate it. This connects naturally with the twentieth century Avant-Garde where artists deliberately produce works that earlier standards judge ugly. https://saemiller.com/2026/09/13/avant-garde-and-ugliness/ For example, Picasso was accepted into museums and Duchamp was discussed in art textbooks.

The history of kitsch and camp should make the judgment of ugliness less certain. It is well to think about at judgement in that we should divide between identifying violation of our own conventions versus a defect in an object. When something is ugly, are we describing the object, its effect, or the observer who likes it? Historically, these have been shown to be separate judgements.

References

  • Susan, S. and Fabio, C., 1964. Notes on Camp. Partisan Review, 31(4), pp. 515-530.
  • McConnell, S. “E. Haldeman-Julius and the Little Blue Bookworms: The Bridging of Cultural Styles, 1919–1951.” Prospects 11 (1986): 59-79.
  • MacDonald, D, Masscult And Midcult: The Partisan Review, V27, No. 4, Spring, 1960.
  • Schopenhauer, A. The World as Will and Idea-Vol. I. Vol. 1. Read Books Ltd, 2015.
  • Broch, H. “Notes on the Problem of Kitsch.” Kitsch: the world of bad taste (1969): 49-76.
  • Greenberg, C. “Avant-Garde and Kitsch,” (1939): 1900-1990.
  • Bourdieu, Pierre. “A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste.” Cambridge, MA (1984).

Updates on the Class – Compressible Flow

I updated the YouTube playlists for Compressible flow. There are now two version of the class I taught for almost ten years. The first was recorded live in 2024 in front of an in person and online audience. YouTube Playlist – Fall 2024 Recording The original was recorded in one of my offices and edited extensively. YouTube Playlist Link – Original Recording. The original probably has more material. It is interesting to reflect on teaching improvement between the years they were made. Either way, they are available to the public. The notes and supplemental material remain under classes on this website.

Reading the Analects of Confucius (孔夫子)

I have completed reading the Analects of Confucius (Kong Qiu 孔丘, Zhongni 仲尼, Kongzi 孔子, Kong Fuzi 孔夫子) – English translation and commentary by an amazing scholar Annping Chin (2014).

Analects means a collection of selected sayings or short passages, especially sayings attributed to an important person. The original Chinese title is Lúnyǔ (論語), usually understood as something like “discussed sayings,” “conversations,” or “edited conversations.”

What interested me most in the Analects was Confucius’ treatment of learning as a form of self-cultivation. Learning is a continuing process of correcting mistakes, testing judgment, and changing oneself through what has been understood (see 1.14, 2.4, 7.3, 7.8 below). Learning like building a mountain one basket at a time captures this well (9.19). Progress depends upon continuous effort, while completion is always beyond reach – one should “learn as if you will never catch up” (8.17).

Closely connected to learning is humility. Confucius repeatedly distrusts certainty, reputation, wealth, display, and moral accomplishment (1.16, 7.16, 9.4). He does not call himself a sage or a “humane” (a key concept throughout the text) man, but describes himself as someone who continues to work toward these things without becoming satisfied (7.34). He worries instead about whether he practices what he already knows and whether he can recognize and correct his own errors (5.27, 7.3). Integrity exists independently of recognition. A person may speak well without possessing integrity, possess courage without being humane (14.4), or be widely admired without actually deserving admiration (13.24).

Service to government can be honorable in one circumstance and shameful in another (14.1). Withdrawal from society may preserve integrity, but withdrawal itself is not necessarily virtuous. In his encounter with Chang Ju and Jie Ni, Confucius refuses complete separation from human society, asking, “Whom can I be with if not with other human beings?” (18.6). His discussion of the recluses makes the point more explicitly: after describing several different forms of principled withdrawal, he concludes, “I have no preconceptions about what one can or cannot do” (18.8). Circumstances matter, and cultivated judgment is required to distinguish appearance from substance (13.24, 14.4, 20.3).

This is the thread I saw in myself through my chosen passages – Confucius presents moral development as continuous work carried out among people. One learns, observes, makes mistakes, corrects them, helps others, and tries again (4.15, 6.30, 7.3, 9.19). Humaneness goes beyond internal condition, and a person who wishes to steady himself helps others to steady themselves. One who wishes to reach their own goal helps others reach theirs (6.30). One should not seek certainty or perfection, but alignment between knowledge, conduct, and character.

Reference – Confucius, The Analects: Lunyu, translated by Annping Chin. New York, New York, United States of America: Penguin Books, 2014. ISBN: 978-0-698-15351-6.

The following are quotations of Confucius that I referenced above, and additionally, those that caught my attention.

1.14 The Master said, “A gentleman does not try to stuff himself when he eats and is not worried about the comfort of his dwelling. He is anxious about getting things done and careful about what he says. He gravitates toward those who possess moral integrity because he wants to put himself right. One could say that he is someone who loves learning.”

1.16 The Master said, “Do not worry that other people do not know you. But be concerned that you do not know them.”

2.4 The Master said, “At fifteen, I set my heart on learning. At thirty, I found my balance through the rites. At forty, I was free from doubts [about myself]. At fifty, I understood what Heaven intended me to do. At sixty, I was attuned to what I heard. At seventy, I followed what my heart desired without overstepping the line.”

3.24 A border official from the district of Yi asked to have an interview with Confucius, saying, “I have never been denied an interview with a gentleman who has come to this place.” Followers of Confucius arranged a meeting for him, and when he came out, he said, “Why should you worry about [your teacher] not having an official position? The world has been without the Way for a long time now. Heaven is about to use your master as the wooden tongue of a bronze bell. ”

4.15 The Master said, “Can [Zeng Can], my way has a thread running through it.” Master Zeng replied, “Yes.”

After the Master left, the disciples asked, “What did he mean?”

Master Zeng said, “The Master’s way consists of doing one’s best to fulfill one’s humanity and treating others with an awareness that they, too, are alive with humanity.”

5.12 Zigong said, “I do not wish others to impose what is unreasonable on me, and I also do not wish to impose what is unreasonable on others. ”

The Master said, “Si [Zigong], this is not something that is within your power.”

5.26 Yan Yuan [Yan Hui] and Jilu [Zilu] were in attendance. Confucius said, “Why don’t you each tell me what you would like to see yourself accomplish?”

Zilu said, “I would like to share my carriages and horses, my clothes and furs with my friends, and, even if these things became worn, to have no regrets.”

Yan Yuan said, “I would like never to boast of any good points I might have and never to claim credit for work I might have done for others.”

Zilu said, “We would like to hear what you would like to see yourself accomplish.”

The Master said, “To give comfort to the old, to have the trust of my friends, and to have the young seeking to be near me.”

5.27 Confucius said, “It’s hopeless! I have yet to see anyone who could recognize his mistakes and take himself to task privately.”

6.24 The Master said, “With one great change the state of Qi could resemble the state of Lu. With one great change, Lu could embody the moral way. ”

6.27 The Master said, “The gentleman broadens his learning in literature and holds himself back with the practice of the rites. And so he is able not to go beyond the bounds of the moral way.”

6.30 Zigong said, “If there is someone who is generous to his people and works to give relief to all those in need, what do you think of him? Can he be called humane?”

The Master said, “This is no longer a matter of humaneness. You must be referring to a sage. Even Yao and Shun found it difficult to accomplish what you’ve just described. A humane person wishes to steady himself, and so he helps others to steady themselves. Because he wishes to reach his goal, he helps others to reach theirs. The ability to make an analogy from what is close at hand is the method and the way of realizing humaneness.”

7.3 The Master said, “To fail to cultivate virtue, to fail to practice what I have learned, not to direct my steps toward what is right when I know what that is, and to make mistakes and not be able to correct them – these are the things that worry me.”

7.8 The Master said, “I will not give a person a boost or a start if he does not know the frustration [of trying to solve a difficult problem] or the frenzy one would get into when trying [to put an idea] into words. After I have shown a student one corner of a square, if he does not come back with the other three, I will not repeat what I have done.”

7.9 When the Master was eating at the side of someone who was in mourning, he never ate his fill. On a day when the Master had wept, he never sang.

7.16 The Master said, “Eating coarse grain, drinking water, and a bended arm for a pillow – joy could be found in these things, too. Wealth and power unrightfully gained mean as much to me as drifting clouds.”

7.19 The Governor of She asked Zilu about Confucius, and Zilu gave no answer. The Master later said to Zilu, “Why didn’t you simply say that he is the sort of person who forgets to eat when pursuing a question, who forgets to worry when suffused with joy, and who does not note that old age is coming?”

7.24 The Master said, “My young friends, do you think I am hiding something? I am not hiding anything from you. There is nothing I do that I do not share with you. That’s Qiu for you.”

7.26 The Master said, “Since I have no hope of meeting a sage, it would be enough if I could meet a gentleman. ”

The Master said, “Since I have no hope of meeting a truly good man, it would be enough to meet a person of constancy. As for those who
claim to have something when they have nothing, to be full when they are empty, to be comfortable when they are tight, it is hard to expect them to be constant.”

7.34 The Master said, “I dare not call myself a sage or a humane man. What could be said of me is that I work toward it without ever feeling sated and I am never tired of teaching.”

Gongxi Hua remarked, “It is precisely in this that we, your disciples, are unable to emulate you.”

7.36 The Master said, “Being extravagant often means that you lack humility. Being frugal often means that you are shabby. I would rather be shabby than lacking in humility. ”

8.10 The Master said, “If the people love bravery and at the same time are angry about their poverty, this is a formula for chaos. If the people are infuriated with men who are inhumane, this, too, will lead to chaos.”

8.13 The Master said, “Have unshakable trust in [the moral path you pursue]. Love learning. Hold on to the way of the good until you die. Do not enter a state threatened with danger. Do not reside in a state embroiled in conflict. Show yourself when the moral way is evident. Seek reclusion when it is not. When the moral way prevails in a state, being poor and lowly is a cause for shame. When the moral way does not prevail in the world, having wealth and position is a cause for shame.”

8.17 The Master said, “Learn as if you will never catch up, as though you are afraid of losing whatever you have already understood.”

9.2 A villager from Daxiang said, “How great is Confucius! He is vastly learned, and so has not made a name for himself in any particular area.”

The Master, having heard this, said to his disciples, “What should I specialize in? Charioteering? Or archery? I think I will specialize in charioteering. ”

9.4 The Master stayed away from four things: he did not put forth theories or conjectures; he did not think that he must be right; he was not obdurate; he was not self-centered.

Yan Hui said with a deep sigh, “The more I look up at it, the higher it appears. The more I bore into it, the harder it becomes. I see it before me, yet suddenly it is behind me. But my teacher knows how to coax me to move forward, and he does it a step at a time. He expands me with literature and culture and pulls me in with the rites. I cannot stop even if I want to, but having done all I can, it still seems to stand way above me. I don’t know where to start, however much I wish to pursue it.”

9.19 The Master said, “I could use the example of building a mountain. If with just one more basketful of dirt to go I stopped, then I was the one who stopped [and left the work incomplete]. I could also use the example of leveling ground. If I heaped just one basketful of dirt, then progress was made and I was the one who moved the work forward.”

9.28 The Master said, “Only in the deepest winter do we realize that the pine and cypress are the last to shed their leaves.”

11.4 The Master said, “Hui [Yan Hui] is of no help to me. He is pleased with everything I say.”

11.12 Jilu [Zilu] asked about how to serve the spirits of the dead and the gods. The Master said, “You can’t even serve men properly, how can you serve the spirits?”

“May I then ask about death?”

“You can’t even understand life, how can you understand death?”

11.23 When Confucius found his life under threat in Kuang, Yan Hui fell behind. [Later, when they reunited,] Confucius said, “I thought you were dead. ”

Yan Hui replied, “With you, Master, still alive, how would I dare to die?”

12.8 Ji Zicheng said, “What matters about a gentleman is the stuff he is made of. What need is there for cultural refinement?”

Zigong said, “I am sorry to hear what you have just said about the gentleman. Even a team of horses cannot catch up with [misspoken words] from a tongue. The stuff of a gentleman is not different from his refinement, and his refinement is not different from the stuff he is made of. The skin of a tiger or a leopard, shorn of hair, is not different from the skin of dog or a sheep. ”

12.9 Duke Ai said to You Ruo, “This is a lean year. I don’t have enough to keep things going. What should I do?”

You Ruo replied, “Why not apply the [Zhou] system of che, under which the people were taxed one part in ten?”

“If I don’t seem to have enough if I tax them two parts in ten, how will I manage if I tax them one part in ten?”

You Ruo replied, “If the people have enough, how can their ruler be left without enough? When the people do not have enough, how can their ruler hope to have enough?”

12.19 Ji Kangzi asked Confucius about the way of governing, saying, “In order to realize the moral way, how about if I were to kill those who do not live by it?”

Confucius replied, “As head of the government, why would you need to kill anyone [to bring about moral order]? The character of those at the top is like that of the wind. The character of those below is like that of grass. When wind blows over the grass, the grass is sure to bend.”

13.22 The Master said, “People from the south have a saying, “A man lacking constancy will not make a shaman or a doctor.” Well put, is it not? The Book of Changes says, ‘The person who lacks constancy in upholding his virtue will be met with disgrace.’ The Master said, “It means that there is simply no point for him to have his fortune told.”

13.24 Zigong asked, “What would you think of a person if everyone in the village liked him?”

The Master said, “I still would not be able to tell [one way or another about him]. ”

“What would you think of a person if everyone in the village disliked him?”

“I still would not be able to tell [one way or another about him]. Better if the good people in his village liked him and the bad ones disliked him.”

14.1 Xian [Yuan Si] asked what conduct could be considered shameful.

The Master said, “When the state is governed according to the moral way, one would accept a salary. When the state is not governed according to the moral way, it would be shameful to accept a salary.”

“[If a person] does not insist on winning and is not boastful, begrudging, or covetous, can such conduct be called humane?”

The Master said, “One can call that difficult, but I don’t know whether it measures up to being humane.”

14.4 The Master said, “A person who has integrity is sure to have something to say, but a person who has something to say does not necessarily have integrity. A person who is humane is sure to possess courage, but a person who possesses courage is not necessarily humane.”

18.1 The Viscount of Wei left him. The Viscount of Ji became his slave. Bi Gan remonstrated with him and, because of it, was put to death. Confucius said, “The Shang had these three humane men.”

The Han scholar Xu Gan writes:

In the Yin [Shang] dynasty there were three men who realized humaneness. The virtue of the viscount of Wei was firmer than rock and he acted promptly. Although confronted by adversity, the viscount of Ji was able to keep his aims squarely on course. Bi Gan remonstrated and had his heart cut out. The gentleman [Confucius] considered the viscount of Wei’s behavior as most exemplary, followed by that of the viscount of Ji, and Bi Gan’s being the least so. Hence in the Spring and Autumn Annals, all those counselors who were killed for remonstrating with their rulers are criticized for not using their wisdom to escape death.

18.6 Chang Ju and Jie Ni were yoked together as they plowed the field. [Confucius went past them.] He then sent Zilu to find out where the ford might be.

Chang Ju asked, “Who is that man driving the carriage?”

Zilu replied, “It’s Kong Qiu [Confucius].”

“Is it Kong Qiu of Lu?”

“Yes.’

“Then he knows where the ford is.”

Zilu then tried [the other man,] Jie Ni.

Jie Ni asked, “Who are you?”

“Zhong You [Zilu]. ”

“Then you must be a disciple of Kong Qiu of Lu.”

“I am.”

“[Look at the water,] it keeps on moving forward. Everywhere in the world is the same. So why bother to seek another [ruler] when you have given up this one? Why change? Moreover, why do you want to follow someone who keeps running away from men [who turned out to be the wrong ones to serve]? Why not follow those who have run away from the world altogether?” He then went back to planting his seeds, burying them one by one without stopping.

Zilu went to tell Confucius what these two men had said. Confucius seemed lost in thought for a while. Then he spoke: “We cannot flock with birds and beasts, can we? Whom can I be with if not with other human beings? The world has a moral way, so I will not change places with those two.”

18.8 Men of integrity who relinquished their rightful positions and became recluses include Bo Yi, Shu Qi, Yu Zhong, Yi Yi, Zhu Zhang, Liuxia Hui, and Shao Lian. The Master said, “Unwilling to lower their aim and bring disgrace upon themselves – that would be Bo Yi and Shu Qi. Liuxia Hui and Shao Lian were willing to lower their aim and bring disgrace upon themselves, but their words were morally sound and their conduct never wandered from their thought – this much is true. Yu Zhong and Yi Yi lived in reclusion and said whatever they liked; they were immaculate in character, and in giving up the world they acted with expediency. But I am different from all these men. I have no preconceptions about what one can or cannot do.”

20.3 The Master said, “A person will have no way to become a gentleman if he does not understand destiny. He will have no way to find his balance if he does not know the rites. He will have no way to assess people’s character if he does not have insight into words.”

Reference – Confucius, The Analects: Lunyu, translated by Annping Chin. New York, New York, United States of America: Penguin Books, 2014. International Standard Book Number 978-0-698-15351-6.

Avant-Garde and Ugliness

The twentieth century avant-garde presents an interesting problem in the history of beauty. What happens when artists no longer simply represent ugly things, but deliberately try to make art that earlier generations judge as ugly? This is different than painting a battle, an old body, suffering, poverty, or some other unpleasant subject beautifully. Here, ugliness is now the center subject.

Carl Jung, writing on Joyce’s Ulysses in 1932, suggested that ugliness can be a sign of transformations that are still coming. Something that appears distasteful today can later be recognized as important or even beautiful. This observation fits the historic avant-garde of the early twentieth century very well. This introduces an important distinction between ugliness in a subject and artistic ugliness. A painter can represent an ugly face through beautiful painting. A sculptor can represent a wounded or deformed body according to proportion, balance, craft, and order. The avant-garde is important because it broke this relationship. The subject may not be ugly, but the form could be distorted until the public experienced the artwork itself as ugly.

Picasso gives an obvious example through his paintings, where paintings of women were not generally intended as realistic representations. Eyes, noses, profiles, and planes no longer followed the expected structure of a human face. He purposely disrupted the visual order that was expected at the time. Political reactions showed how serious this argument became. Here are two major examples. First, Hitler condemned modern art as degenerate. Second, Nikita Khrushchev, accustomed to Soviet realism, later ridiculed avant-garde painting. Both reactions assume that art has a correct visual language and that departure from this language indicates failure or corruption. Questions were reframed to be political and who has the right to define what is correct.

Futurists like Marinetti famously claimed that a racing automobile was more beautiful than the Winged Victory of Samothrace. This is an extraordinary aesthetic claim. The classical statue represented beauty through proportion, restraint, the human body, and a connection to antiquity. The Futurists replaced this with a mechanical engine. They also criticized museums and libraries because these institutions represented the authority of the past. The problem for Futurism was that reverence for the old prevented a new industrial civilization from discovering its own aesthetic language. A world of automobiles, factories, electricity, airplanes, steel, and mass production could not simply continue pretending that the highest form of beauty remained an ancient marble sculpture.

There is something valuable in this argument, that machines do possess forms of beauty. Speed, force, repetition, engineering efficiency, and structural are their own kind of order. Yet the Futurist celebration of force also moved easily toward celebration of violence as many Italian Futurists became associated with Fascism. Destruction of an older aesthetic order did not produce a better moral order.

German Expressionism used ugliness for a different purpose. Artists such as Kirchner, Nolde, Kokoschka, Schiele, Grosz, and Dix represented bodies and faces through exaggeration and distortion, often as criticism of the society around them. Their people can look exhausted, corrupt, diseased, unpleasant, damaged, or spiritually empty. It became a means of describing social ugliness. If the society being represented is itself corrupt, then making it beautiful can be dishonest. Harmony in the painting may conceal disharmony in the world.

Cubism attacked another assumption, that European ways of representing the body and object were somehow natural rather than inherited. Braque and Picasso looked toward non-European art, including African masks. What had been categorized as ugly became a source of new form. This reveals that judgments of ugliness contain history. A person may believe they are simply looking at an ugly object, when in fact they are measuring the object against conventions they have inherited and rarely examined.

If anything can become art through selection and context, then craftsmanship, beauty, subject, and even direct manufacture by the artist are no longer necessary conditions. This created enormous freedom, but new unresolved problems. If almost anything can be art, then how can we now judge what is excellent art?

Surrealism moved the physical world toward the subconscious. Breton’s Surrealist Manifesto of 1924 called for forms of thought less restricted by rational control. Dreams, automatic writing, free association, disturbing combinations, and apparently irrational images became sources for art. Ernst, Dali, Magritte, and others created situations in which familiar objects appear in unfamiliar relations. An ordinary object placed into an impossible relation damages our expectation of order. Nature continues to look almost normal, but something within it refuses the rules. The Surrealists played games such as the exquisite corpse, where one person would draw part of a figure, fold the paper, and pass it to another person who continued the drawing without seeing what had come before. The figure’s structure came through an irrational combination.

Lautreamont had earlier given one of the great images for this new aesthetic, the accidental meeting of a sewing machine and an umbrella on an operating table. Beauty can emerge through an encounter that reason would never have organized. Bunuel’s Un chien andalou deliberately shows disturbing images. Artaud’s Theater of Cruelty sought an art capable of breaking through ordinary psychological restraints.

Later movements extended this interest. Pop art brought the ordinary objects and images of commercial civilization into art. Warhol did not need to rely on academic painting, but on consumer products and repeated commercial images which had already become part of the visual environment of modern life. Adorno gives this development a larger social meaning. If society itself contains injustice, repression, ugliness, and alienation, then an art devoted only to harmony can become false. Art can take into itself what society considers ugly and use it as accusation. What has been hidden, excluded, or rejected is given visible form.

The avant-garde wanted to scandalize the public, and eventually the public purchased the avant-garde. For example, Picasso entered museums, Duchamp is in undergraduate textbooks, surrealism became household knowledge, and Expressionist paintings became enormously valuable. What was ugly became beautiful. The avant-garde achieved something that is almost contradictory. It attacked the authority of beauty so successfully that many of its forms were eventually absorbed into beauty. However, ugliness can become as empty as beauty. Breaking a rule is not an accomplishment as once the violation becomes expected, it can become another convention. Ugliness can expose something hidden, correct a false harmony, or reveal that an inherited rule was never a law of nature.

References

  • Jung, C. G., “Ulysses: A Monologue,” The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Vol. 15: Spirit in Man, Art, and Literature, Princeton University Press, 1932.
  • Marinetti, F. T., “The Founding and Manifesto of Futurism,” Le Figaro, Paris, France, 1909.
  • Breton, A., “Manifesto of Surrealism,” Paris, 1924.
  • Artaud, A., “The Theatre and Its Double, Paris, 1938.
  • Adorno, T. W., “Aesthetic Theory” University of Minnesota Press, 1997.

The Eiffel Tower and Industrial Beauty

The Eiffel Tower rises above Paris with such familiarity that it is difficult to imagine the city without it. Its lattice of iron has become part of the visual order of Paris, alongside the stone facades, the river, the bridges, and the great monuments created from earlier centuries. Yet, when the tower was proposed in the 1880s, many of the most distinguished artists and writers in France regarded it as an assault upon the city.

This disagreement is more interesting than the familiar lesson that critics sometimes fail to recognize great art. The Eiffel Tower belonged to a much larger nineteenth century argument about machines, cities, industry, and beauty. It challenged those critics to accept engineering as an aesthetic order of its own.

The Industrial Revolution altered Europe before anyone had quite learned how to understand it aesthetically. Mechanical looms, steam engines, trains, factories, and systems of production transformed labor. It also created (or was driven by the motivation) to create extraordinary wealth. As a byproduct, it created crowded industrial cities, dangerous working conditions, smoke, noise, poverty, and forms of human organization that seemed increasingly distant from the scale of the individual craftsman. The machines of the industrial revolution are more than one can observe in museums of industry today (for example the Henry Ford museum in Michigan).

Giosuè Carducci captured something of this ambiguity in his `Hymn to Satan,’ 1863. The steam locomotive appears simultaneously as beautiful and terrible. An emblem of technological progress advancing against an older religious-medieval order. The machine possessed power, speed, heat, smoke, and movement. It frightened those first observing because it was impressive as it cut a dividing line through the countryside.

Other contemporaries observed the transformation and saw degradation. Marx and Engels interpreted the industrial system primarily through labor, capital, and class. John Ruskin approached it through another direction. Industrialization represented a problem of beauty, craft, and human dignity, and not just an economic transformation. His admiration for Gothic architecture was connected to this viewpoint. For example, a medieval cathedral contained irregularity because it contained the work of many individual artisans. Then craftsman work was observed in the stone, unlike the repeated industrial operations on assembly lines. Ruskin identified a problem that remains with us as efficiency does not necessarily produce meaning.

The nineteenth century city made the conflict readily visible. Factories, rail yards, warehouses, chimneys, crowded housing, and new transportation networks altered the structure of London, Paris, Berlin, and other rapidly growing cities in the early industrial revolution. Writers and artists responded accordingly. For example, Dickens made industrial poverty part of the moral landscape of Victorian England. Doré showed a London of darkness, crowds, bridges, smoke, and disparities of wealth. Zola used mechanisms of the new industrial society as machinery in his novels.

For the Universal Exposition of 1889, Gustave Eiffel proposed a tower of iron rising approximately 300 meters above Paris. Nothing comparable had ever been constructed. Unlike previous building efforts, it was not a classical monument. The internal structure was almost entirely visible. The static force balance was visible to the eye from all angles.

In 1887 a group of prominent writers, painters, musicians, and architects protested the tower publicly. Among them were Guy de Maupassant, Alexandre Dumas fils, Charles Gounod, and Charles Garnier – architect of the Paris Opera. They imagined the tower as an enormous factory chimney imposed upon a city whose beauty had been produced through centuries of stone architecture.

Imagine Paris without knowledge of what the Eiffel Tower would be. Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, the churches, bridges, and ordered facades all belonged, however differently, to architectural traditions. Into this city would suddenly rise an exposed iron framework taller than any structure ever built.

Eiffel’s viewpoint relied upon a different conception of beauty. Engineering, he argued, was not outside harmony. A structure could possess elegance because its form followed physical necessity. Beauty in this viewpoint relied on strength, proportion, efficiency, and boldness. Its visual form and its structural form are intimately connected.

A bridge can be beautiful because the path of its loads is intelligible. An aircraft wing can possess beauty because its form reconciles lift, drag, structure, weight, stability, manufacturability, and countless practical constraints. A turbine blade, a ship hull, or even the internal geometry of a fluid passage may contain an order that is almost invisible to someone who does not know the problem being solved.

One cannot always say that what functions well is beautiful. Factories could operate efficiently while producing miserable surroundings. Cities could become economically productive while becoming physically degrading. A machine may solve one problem while creating another. Ruskin’s criticism remains even with the survival and celebration of Eiffel’s tower.

We might question what kind of order machines produce, and what they ask human beings to surrender in obtaining function. Today the Eiffel Tower’s structure, once denounced as an industrial monstrosity, became inseparable from Paris itself. What was ugly is now beautiful, and what was alien became familiar.

Perception changed as well, and people learned to see and live with iron differently. Industrial construction introduced another vocabulary, based on iron, steel, glass, tension, compression, repetition, and increasingly large spans.

The nineteenth century suspicion of the industrial city never disappeared. Twentieth century writers and thinkers continued to describe the metropolis as both liberation and imprisonment. Alfred Döblin’s `Berlin Alexanderplatz’ presents the modern city as a harsh system of crowds, machines, commerce, violence, and chance. Adorno viewed much of modern mass culture with suspicion. Joyce turned Dublin into the immense human landscape of Ulysses, where the modern city becomes simultaneously comic, vulgar, intimate, frustrating, and magnificent – a simultaneous inferno and paradise.

This is the lesson of industrial ugliness. Technology changes the conditions in which beauty can be recognized. A civilization should not judge its machines only by whether they work, or its cities only by whether they grow. Technical accomplishment is real, and sometimes beautiful. Yet the final measure remains human. What sort of world has been created around the machine, and what sort of life is possible within it?

References

  • G. Carducci, A Satana. Pistoia, Italy: Società Tipografica Pistoiese Carducci, Bongiovanni, 1867.
  • K. Marx and F. Engels, Manifest der Kommunistischen Partei. London, U.K.: Office der Bildungs-Gesellschaft für Arbeiter, 1848.
  • J. Ruskin, “The Nature of Gothic,” in The Stones of Venice, vol. II, The Sea-Stories. London, Smith, Elder and Co., 1853, pp. 151-230.
  • C. Dickens, Hard Times: For These Times. London, U.K.: Bradbury & Evans, 1854.
  • G. Doré and B. Jerrold, London: A Pilgrimage. London, U.K.: Grant & Co., 1872.
  • É. Zola, Germinal. Paris, France: G. Charpentier et Cie, 1885.
  • E. Meissonier et al., “Protestation des artistes contre la tour de M. Eiffel,” Le Temps, pp. 3–6, Feb. 14, 1887.
  • G. Eiffel, Interview by P. Bourde, Le Temps, Feb. 14, 1887.
  • A. Döblin, Berlin Alexanderplatz: Die Geschichte vom Franz Biberkopf. Berlin, Germany: S. Fischer Verlag, 1929.
  • M. Horkheimer and T. W. Adorno, Dialektik der Aufklärung: Philosophische Fragmente. Amsterdam, Netherlands: Querido Verlag, 1947.
  • J. Joyce, Ulysses. Paris, France: Shakespeare and Company, 1922.

Literature – Cheng Yaotian

Its (literature) influence can be more inspiring than being in the presence of a great man because it calls upon us to articulate our ideas and it beckons us to draw analogies. And so what literature offers is more than just something to rely on: it takes us by the hand and bolsters us up; it holds us by the arm to get us on our way.

Cheng Yaotian (1725–1814)

United States 250 – July 4th ‘For the Nation’

For the Nation

Twelve score and ten years ago,
the British settlers of this abundant land
took matters into their own hands
and demanded that King George leave them be
and set them free.

From the Massachusetts Bay to Georgia’s red clay,
from Philadelphia’s philosophers
to Virginia’s founding elites,
cries of freedom were everywhere
like a relentless drumbeat.

Common sense and self-evident truths
were the language of the day.
Tyranny and intolerable acts
would no longer hold sway.

The settlers along the Atlantic coast
were dismayed by British rule.
They were ready to govern themselves,
to build something entirely new:
a form of government
that would benefit both the many and the few.

One quarter of a millennium ago,
when the settlers first yearned to be free,
the native tribes who were born on this land
were already practicing democracy.

Those indigenous caretakers of this amazing place
could not help but wonder
how the settlers with their calls for freedom
would change the lives of the native peoples.

And watching too in manacles and chains
were the Africans brought here enslaved,
who questioned in marginalized voices
whether this freedom would also make them free.

Now looking back over the arc of time,
we all can plainly see
that the promise of those opening years
is slowly coming to be.

It has not been a simple, uncomplicated course.
It has taken wars and marches and civil discourse
to get from where we started from
to the times in which we live,
where the essential promises of the American way
are becoming more accessible day by day.

Thus, we the people have molded ourselves
into what we had hoped to be:
a people who live with liberty
and who are happy being free.

We have made those words that inspired the world
the core values of our philosophy.

So now in 2026,
we can glimpse that ideal place
that America still aspires to
and hopes someday to fully embrace.

That place where all of us can be
all that we were meant to be,
and unite with our fellow citizens
to preserve this fragile democracy.

We must recall as we celebrate
what Ben Franklin reminded us of:
that this republic is ours to keep,
but only if we can lift it high,
ensuring that freedom does not die.

Then we who now uphold the torch
can pass it on yet again
in one long, continuous, unbroken chain
that will ensure that freedom continues to reign
in this land of the free
and home of the brave.

Source: John Charles Thomas, “For the Nation,” performed during America Made in Virginia: 250 Years Together, PBS and Virginia’s American Revolution 250 Commission, July 4, 2026.

The Uncanny and the Failure of Order

Let us journey back to the time of Dr. Freud in 1919 – A lamp sits on a table in an ordinary room. The lamp rises, but there is something wrong about the lamp. This is the peculiar force of the uncanny, where it is not an ugly event. It is ugliness of situation, which represents a defect in order. Here, the lamp remains a familiar object, but its place in the world has shifted. We are disturbed because the world still asks to be trusted, while one event inside it refuses the natural law by which we understand rooms, objects, and ourselves.

Dr. S. Freud, writing in 1919, gave this disturbance its modern psychological form. The uncanny, for him, was the strange. Many strange things do not frighten us. The uncanny is stranger than strangeness because it feels half remembered. It is the return of something hidden, something that should have remained buried but has come back into view. Schelling had already defined the uncanny in this way. Ernst Jentsch called it a form of “intellectual uncertainty,” a condition in which the mind cannot decide what it is seeing. We can see this in the art movement of the surreal.

That uncertainty often appears at the boundary between the living and the lifeless. Hoffmann’s ‘The Sandman’ gives Freud his central example – the adult enchanted by Olimpia, a beautiful woman who is really an automaton. The doll that may be alive, the face that may be human, the body that may be a machine, all unsettle us because they occupy two categories at once. The mind wants a border, and the object refuses one. Such themes are reemerging in 2026 with the rise of so-called AI language models.

Fairy tales show many more examples. A wolf in a story may not frighten a child. But a wolf imagined at night, just outside the window, is another matter. The marvelous belongs to worlds where supernatural events are accepted as part of the order. The fantastic appears where the order is rational, where miracles are no longer expected, and where the impossible therefore enters as a violation. A puppet that speaks inside a fairy tale belongs to its world. A puppet that speaks in our room wounds ours.

The same logic governs ghosts, doubles, vampires, and haunted houses. The ghost is not terrifying simply because it is dead. If the shroud moves, if the face flickers in uncertain light, if the dead seem to carry some remainder of life, then the boundary breaks. The ghost becomes a defect in the understanding between life and death.

The double is perhaps more troubling. In ancient images, the double could promise survival, a form by which the self endured. In modern literature, from Gogol and Poe to Dostoevsky, the double becomes a warning. Another person bears our form, occupies our place, perhaps knows something about us that we do not know ourselves. We are not frightened by difference alone. We are frightened by resemblance that has become uncanny.

Kafka showed this in Metamorphosis. The terror is not only that Gregor Samsa wakes as an insect, it is that his family adapts to the violation with an embarrassed practicality. The impossible has occurred, yet the household continues. The scandal is absorbed into routine, the world does not collapse, and it accommodates the grotesque.

That is the deepest form of the uncanny. Not the scream, not the apparition, not the supernatural event, but the discovery that disorder can enter ordinary life and be treated as normal. The uncanny begins when the lamp rises from the table. The uncanny becomes serious when everyone in the room decides, quietly, that this is how lamps have always behaved.

References

  • Jentsch, E., “On the Psychology of the Uncanny (1906),” R. Sellars, Trans., Angelaki: Journal of the Theoretical Humanities, vol. 2, no. 1, pp. 7–16, 1997.
  • Freud, S., “The ‘Uncanny,’” in The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, vol. 17, J. Strachey, Trans. London, U.K.: Hogarth Press, 1955, pp. 217–256.
  • Windsor, M., “What is the Uncanny?,” The British Journal of Aesthetics, vol. 59, no. 1, pp. 51–65, 2019.
  • Schlipphacke, H., “The Place and Time of the Uncanny,” Pacific Coast Philology, vol. 50, no. 2, pp. 163–172, 2015.
  • Kjeldgaard-Christiansen, J. and Clasen, M., “Creepiness and the Uncanny,” Style, vol. 57, no. 3, pp. 322–349, 2023.
  • Gray, K. and Wegner, D. M., “Feeling Robots and Human Zombies: Mind Perception and the Uncanny Valley,” Cognition, vol. 125, no. 1, pp. 125–130, 2012.
  • Rosenkranz, K., Aesthetics of Ugliness: A Critical Edition, A. Pop and M. Widrich, Eds. and Trans. London, U.K.: Bloomsbury Academic, 2015.

Copernicus’ Dedicatory Letter to Pope Paul III

I began myself to consider the movement of the earth. It seemed an absurd notion. Yet I knew that my predecessor had been granted the liberty to imagine all sorts of fictive circles to save the celestial phenomena. I therefore thought that I would be similarly granted the right to experiment, to try out whether, by assigning a certain movement to the earth, I might be able to find more solid demonstrations of the revolutions of the celestial spheres than those left by my predecessors.

To Save the Phenomena, English ed. 1969, University of Chicago Press, p. 63