Hon, Tze-Ki, Redmond, Geoffrey P - Teaching The I Ching (2014)

TEACHING THE I CHING (BOOK OF CHANGES)
TEACHING RELIGIOUS STUDIES
Series Editor
Karen Y. Jackson-Weaver, Princeton University
A Publication Series of The American Academy of Religion and
Oxford University Press
Teaching Lévi-Strauss Teaching the Daode Jing

Edited by Hans H. Penner Edited by Gary Delaney DeAngelis
and Warren G. Frisina
Teaching Islam
Edited by Brannon M. Wheeler Teaching Religion and Film
Edited by Gregory J. Watkins
Teaching Freud
Edited by Diane Jonte-Pace Teaching Death and Dying
Edited by Christopher M. Moreman
Teaching Durkheim
Edited by Terry F. Godlove, Jr. Teaching Undergraduate Research in
Religious Studies
Teaching African American Religions
Edited by Bernadette McNary-Zak
Edited by Carolyn M. Jones and
and Rebecca Todd Peters
Theodore Louis Trost
Teaching Jung
Teaching Religion and Healing
Edited by Kelly Bulkeley and
Edited by Linda L. Barnes and Inés
Clodagh Weldon
Talamantez
Teaching Mysticism
Teaching New Religious Movements
Edited by William B. Parsons
Edited by David G. Bromley
Teaching Religion and Violence
Teaching Ritual
Edited by Brian K. Pennington
Edited by Catherine Bell
Teaching the I Ching (Book of Changes)
Teaching Confucianism
Geoffrey Redmond and Tze-ki Hon
Edited by Jeffrey L. Richey
TEACHING THE I CHING
(BOOK OF CHANGES)
Geoffrey Redmond and Tze-ki Hon
1
1
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford.
It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship,
and education by publishing worldwide.
Oxford New York
Auckland Cape Town Dar es Salaam Hong Kong Karachi
Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Nairobi
New Delhi Shanghai Taipei Toronto
With offices in
Argentina Austria Brazil Chile Czech Republic France Greece
Guatemala Hungary Italy Japan Poland Portugal Singapore
South Korea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine Vietnam
Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press

in the UK and certain other countries.
Published in the United States of America by

Oxford University Press
198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016
© Oxford University Press 2014

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior
permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law,
by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization.
Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the
Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above.
You must not circulate this work in any other form

and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Redmond, Geoffrey P., author.
Teaching the I Ching (Book of changes) / Geoffrey Redmond, Tze-Ki Hon.
pages cm
ISBN 978–0–19–976681–9 (hardback)
1. Yi jing. I. Hon, Tze-Ki, 1958– author. II. Title.
PL2464.Z7R43 2014
299.5′1282—dc23
2014006212
135798642
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-free paper
CONTENTS
Preface vii
Acknowledgments xiii
Concise Chronology of Chinese Dynasties (with Reference to the
Book of Changes) xv
The Structure of the Yijing xix
Introduction: The Rewards and Perils of Studying

an Ancient Classic 1
1. Divination: Fortune-telling and Philosophy 19
2. Bronze Age Origins 37
3. Women in the Yijing 72
4. Recently Excavated Manuscripts 93
5. Ancient Meanings Reconstructed 122
6. The Ten Wings 140
7. Cosmology 158
8. Moral Cultivation 171
9. The Yijing as China Enters the Modern Age 181
v
Contents
10. The Yijing’s Journey to the West 192

11. Readers Guide 237
12. Predicting the Future for the Yijing 264
Bibliography 267
Index 285
vi
PREFACE
The Yijing易經, also referred to as the I Ching, or Book of Changes,

has been the most influential of the Chinese ancient classics. In the
present volume we attempt to meet the needs of university teachers
especially, but also the needs of anyone with a serious interest in the
Yijing, to provide a concise introduction to what is, together with the
Hebrew Bible, the world’s oldest book in continuous use.
The idea for the present work actually arose as a suggestion from
a member of the audience at a session of the American Academy
of Religion entitled, “Questioning the Spirits: The Yijing (I Ching or
Classic of Changes) as a Way of Personal Spirituality in the Confucian
Tradition” held in Chicago in 2008. Our experience presenting papers
in this session, which attracted a large and interested group from
diverse fields, demonstrated to us that many scholars were eager to
engage with this important but enigmatic Chinese classic, but did
not know where to start. Because of the obscurity of the text, por-
tions of which are 3,000 years old, together with its enigmatic dia-
grams and peculiar organization, beginning the study of the Changes
can seem overwhelming. Confidence in one’s understanding is not
easily acquired.
vii
Preface
Prior English-language studies of the Yijing are plentiful; there

are many excellent ones to which we are indebted in the writing of
the present book. What is lacking, however, is an up-to-date, detailed
introduction that will concisely cover such fundamental issues as
dates of composition, textual-critical considerations, imagery, phi-
losophy, cosmology, the development of ethical awareness, and the
effects of modernity. Recently the application of critical philological
method as well as the archeological discovery of previously lost man-
uscripts has altered our understanding of the classic in significant
ways.
Discussions with many university faculty suggests to us that in
teaching about Chinese civilization, the Yijing receives much less
attention than its importance merits, simply because of its obscu-
rity. Although it is the subject of some important English-language
scholarship, the great majority of works purporting to be about the
Yijing are actually adaptations by enthusiasts, few of whom display
any authentic knowledge of its language or history. Thus the need,
which we hope to meet with the present work, for an introduction to
historically informed understanding of this fascinating and frustrat-
ing text. We have tried to meet the needs of several groups, including
China specialists with other areas of concentration, scholars in other
fields within religious studies, as well as teachers of general Asian
and world history.
As with other classical or scriptural texts, the later commentar-
ies are at least as important as the text itself. Though the Yijing has
inspired thousands of commentaries, those of a few—notably Wang
Bi, Cheng Yi, Shao Yong, and particularly Zhu Xi—set the meanings
of the text for nearly 2,000 years. The commentaries are covered; but
unlike many treatments, this volume separates the early probable
meanings from the views of later commentators. The commentaries
add to the early meanings; they do not replace them.
While attempting to provide the necessary background for under-
standing the Changes, we also point to issues about which scholarly
opinion remains unsettled. When we have felt that one particular
view is right—that the roles of King Wen and the Duke of Zhou in
viii
Preface
composing the classic are mythical, for example—we have briefly

indicated this and summarized our reasoning. In general, however,
we have been more concerned to fairly present contested issues
rather than argue for one or another position. Inevitably, there will
be those who disagree vehemently with some of what we have said.
Throughout Chinese history, the authoritative status of the Changes
has been used to support a great variety of intellectual agendas.
Given the obscurity of the text and the open-ended possible mean-
ings of the diagrams, the classic has attracted diverse ideas. We have
tried to present the most important of these; however, to consider all
traditional ways of reading the Changes would require nothing less
than a multivolume comprehensive treatise on the history of Chinese
thought.
This work represents a collaboration between two scholars of
divergent interests and backgrounds. Geoffrey Redmond is a phy-
sician and biomedical researcher with an earlier graduate literature
degree emphasizing textual criticism. His particular interests with
respect to the Yijing are twofold: The reconstruction of the early
meanings when the text was composed in the Chinese Bronze Age,
and the ways its meanings have made it popular outside East Asia.
Tze-ki Hon is an historian of Chinese intellectual history with
interests in Song dynasty use of the Yijing and its fate in modern
China.
While we hope we have succeeded in distilling an immense
amount of complex material into readily comprehensible form, we
must admit that our own knowledge, such as it is, did not come
quickly or easily. Perhaps we are slow learners, but it took each of us
more than a decade of study just to feel a degree of comfort about
our understanding of this classic. Since then the Changes has con-
tinued to offer new mysteries for us to explore. Borrowing Laozi’s
famous phrase, “Within any mystery, there is deeper mystery — the
gateway to the profound.” We hope that this introduction will pro-
vide an easier entry to the study of the Changes than was available to
us when we began, and that it will encourage readers to further seek
its hidden profundities.
ix
Preface
While we have enjoyed a harmonious collaboration and agree on

much, we do not agree about everything and are aware, in the spirit
of the Yijing, that what is correct is itself changeable. An attentive
reader may note differences of opinion. We feel that such are best left
in place rather than artificially smoothed out.
While we were preparing the present book, Richard J. Smith’s
The I Ching: A Biography (2012) appeared. This work is a product of a
lifetime’s erudition, yet is written in a style that is both elegant and
lucid. It can be recommended without hesitation to readers of our
book. However, our intention is somewhat different. While we also
have done our best to clarify the meanings of the Changes, we have
emphasized difficulties and problems. After all, this is the mission of
the scholar—to glide over the easy parts in search of difficulties to
puzzle over. But beyond the pleasures of intellectual challenge, the
Yijing’s importance as a key text of traditional China is in no small
part because its difficulties often reveal key issues in its culture.
Another important work, though perhaps not appreciated to the
degree that it deserves is Richard Rutt’s work on the early meanings,
Zhouyi: The Book of Changes (1996). Finally, Edward L. Shaughnessy’s
long-anticipated work on the excavated manuscripts, Unearthing the
Changes: Recently Discovered Manuscripts of the Yi Jing (I Ching) and
Related Texts (2014), is already adding immensely to our knowledge
of the Changes. While we wish to acknowledge these works, there are
many other notable works which can be found in our bibliography.
The proliferation of New Age and other appropriations, while
having the happy effect of stimulating interest beyond scholarly
circles, gives little sense of the Changes in its Chinese context. The
literati certainly did not conceive of their esteemed classic as a way
of overcoming the ego (Anthony and Moog 2002), of writing one’s
first novel (Sloane 2005), of solving romantic relationship problems
(Karcher 2005), or of creating marketing plans (Mun 2006). Such
altered versions are even more numerous in Chinese. Adaptations
proliferate with little restraint, facilitated by 3,000 years of language
change that has made comparison to the original all but impossible
except for the few versed in the archaic language.
x
Preface
Though the yi in Yijing can mean “easy,” the book is not easy read-
ing, nor is it easy to write about with clarity and accuracy—though
we have tried to achieve both. We hope that the Yijing and early China
specialists will look upon our efforts indulgently and even, perhaps,
find it useful as an overview of the key issues in scholarship of the
Yijing.
A NOTE ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS
The Yijing, uniquely among scriptural texts, is inherently visual,

because the hexagrams form an essential part from the earliest
known examples. We have included diagrams from the massive com-
pilation Siku quanshu 四庫全書 (Four Treasures of the Emperor) car-
ried out from 1772 to 1778 in response to the order of the Qian Long
Emperor and supervised by his son, Yong Rong. Some of the figures
are included to illustrate the basic aspects of hexagram arrange-
ments. Others exemplify cosmological associations or simply the
use of trigrams as a decorative motif. Many Yijing illustrations are so
arcane as to be understandable only by their creators. A few examples
are included here to show the extreme degree of elaboration reached
by what began as a collection of ancient oracles. The illustrations
from the Four Treasures of the Emperor are available in a clear modern
Chinese version edited by Li and Guo (2004).
TRANSL ATIONS
In general we have quoted from the standard English translations,

most often Wilhelm-Baynes, but also Lynn and Rutt. We have occa-
sionally made minor alterations; but rather than offer our own trans-
lations, we have felt the reader is better served by quoting from
versions that are easily accessible. Wilhelm-Bayne’s hexagram names
have become almost standard in English, so we have used these
except in a few cases where we felt they are unclear.
xi
Preface
CHINESE WORDS
Chinese characters and pinyin are used sparingly. In general we pro-

vide characters when a word or proper name of particular importance
first appears. We have also provided them when the nearest English
equivalent does not adequately render a key term or phrase—for
example, yuan heng li zhen, the four words with which the classic
begins. When providing close textual analysis, we have also provided
the Chinese original. However, everything should be fully accessible
to those without any Chinese. After all the Yijing has become a world
classic, available in many languages.
AUTHORSHIP
While we both worked on all of the chapters, primary responsibility

was as follows: Tze-ki Hon, chapters 6, 7, 8, and 9 on the Ten Wings,
Cosmology, Moral Cultivation, and the Modern China; Geoffrey
Redmond, the Introduction and chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 10, and 11, on
Divination, Bronze Age origins, Women in the Changes, Excavated
manuscripts, Ancient Meanings, the Journey to the West, and the
Reader’s Guide.
xii
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We wish to acknowledge, first of all, the then editor of the AAR

Teaching series, Susan E. Henking, now president of Shimer College,
Chicago, who reviewed our proposal meticulously. Her many valuable
suggestions made for a better final result, as did those of the anony-
mous reviewers. Also our editor at Oxford, Cynthia Read, was both
supportive and patient; Keith Knapp encouraged the development of
the AAR session that ultimately led to creation of the present work.
Any work of scholarship is in a sense a collaboration of the many
individuals whose work constitutes the field of inquiry. Contemporary
scholars without whose work this book could not have been written
include, but are not limited to: Joseph Adler, Sarah Allan, Constance
Cook, Scott Cook, Catherine Despeux, Li Feng, Norman J. Girardot,
Paul Goldin, Marc Kalinowski, Richard John Lynn, S. J. Marshall,
Michael Nylan, Richard Rutt, Edward Shaughnessy, Adam Smith,
Richard J. Smith, Ken-ichi Takashima, Gregory Whincup, and Robin
D. S. Yates.
We also acknowledge the first Westerners who can be called
sinologists, those missionaries who went to China beginning in the
seventeenth century, when foreigners in the Middle Kingdom faced
great difficulties. While they made the long journey with the intent
of changing China, their work changed the West as well. Many took
xiii
Ac k n o wl e d g m e n t s
an interest in the Book of Changes. These include Fr Joachim Bouvet

S.J., perhaps the first Westerner to succumb to what a much later
missionary, Richard Rutt, termed “the fascination of Zhouyi.” The
nineteenth-century Scottish missionary, James Legge, later the
first professor of Chinese at Oxford, made the first comprehensive
translations of the early classics, despite his oft-expressed skepti-
cism about their content. The Yijing became a world classic with the
appearance of the German translation of Richard Wilhelm, further
translated into English by Cary F. Baynes. Of course, Chinese lite-
rati have been pondering the Changes and writing commentaries for
more than two millennia. Their ideas about the classic make up much
of the subject matter of this book.
Geoffrey Redmond wishes to express gratitude to the Columbia
University Early China Seminar and the Society for the Study of Early
China, both outstanding forums for cutting-edge research on early
China. These have provided some necessary background for the pres-
ent work as well as invaluable intellectual stimulation.
Most of all, he is grateful to his wife, Mingmei Yip, novelist, illus-
trator, and guqin virtuoso for her warm support, as well as for sharing
with him her deep knowledge of Chinese culture, past and present.
Tze-ki Hon would like to thank Joseph Adler, Dennis Kat-Hung
Cheng, Edward Shaughnessy, and Richard J. Smith for their inspira-
tion and support. They will find some of their insightful arguments
about Yijing studies incorporated in Tze-ki’s chapters.
When writing his chapters, Tze-ki was given the additional duty
to chair the History Department at SUNY-Geneseo. Without the care
and patience of his wife, Wan-chiung, he would not have been able to
continue to write while he dealt with administrative crises.
xiv
CONCISE CHRONOLOGY OF CHINESE
DYNASTIES (WITH REFERENCE
TO THE BOOK OF CHANGES)
Chinese history is conventionally divided into dynasties, of which

there are many. The following lists only those of particular impor-
tance for cultural history, as a guide for those unfamiliar with this
system. More complete chronologies are available in standard
sources. To give a general sense of each time, a key event or person-
age of each period is provided here.
Eras of mythical rulers and the Xia 夏dynasty: Mythical ori-

gin of Chinese civilization, including the trigrams. Whether
the Xia dynasty existed or is mythical is disputed, often with
political implications.
Shang 商 (ca. 1600–1046 BCE): Earliest divination records, the
oracle bones. These are from the latter Shang, often referred
to as the Yin 殷.
Western Zhou 西周 (1046–771 BCE): Composition of earliest
form of the Book of Changes, the Zhouyi.
Eastern Zhou 東周 (770–221 BCE): Divided into two periods:
Spring and Autumn (770–403 BCE): The time of Confucius.
The Zuozhuan, a record of some of the events of this period,
contains the earliest accounts of Changes divination.
xv
C o n ci s e C h r o n o l o g y o f C hi n e s e D y n a s t i e s
Warring States (403–221 BCE): Intense philosophical activ-

ity. Earliest extant Changes manuscripts.
Qin 秦 (221–206 BCE): First emperor whose tomb contains the
terra-cotta warriors.
Han 漢 (202 BCE–220 CE): Elaboration of cosmology, including
yin-yang.
Three Kingdoms (220–265): Wang Bi's influential commentary.
Tang 唐 (618–907): Systemization of Yijing commentaries by
Kong Yingda.
Song 宋 (960–1279): Formulation of neo-Confucianism by
Cheng Yi, Zhu Xi, Shao Yong, and others.
Yuan 元 (1271–1368): Mongolian rule. Zhu Xi orthodoxy.
Ming 明 (1368–1644): Song neo-Confucianism becomes state
orthodoxy.
Qing 清 (1644–1912): Extensive scholarship on the Yijing, includ-
ing that by the Kangxi emperor. Rise of critical philology.
Republic (1912–1949): Authority of the classics challenged.
Communist victory to death of Mao Zedong (1949–
1976): Suppression of the Yijing and other traditional cul-
ture during the Cultural Revolution (1966–1976) as "feudal
superstition.”
Contemporary (1980–present): Yijing revival within China and
beginning of worldwide interest.
The dynastic dates are those of the PRC standardization. These have
been controversial, particularly for the earliest three dynasties, the
Xia, Shang, and Zhou. Although the existence of a dynasty referred
to as Xia is generally doubted by Western sinologists, there is now
extensive archeological knowledge of pre-Shang cultures. Whether
any of these were the supposed Xia dynasty is heatedly debated. For
the views of Western scholars on the Xia and other issues of early
Chinese chronology, see Shaughnessy 2008; for the Chinese rebuttal,
see Yin 2002.
Whether or not the name “Xia” can be applied to any known
pre-Shang cultures, archeology has demonstrated beyond doubt
xvi
C o n ci s e C h r o n o l o g y o f C hi n e s e D y n a s t i e s
the extensive human presence in part of the area now called China.
Excavation continues to be very extensive and is greatly expanding
our knowledge of this formative period. For an up-to-date discussion
of the complexities of dynastic dating and the question of the Xia
dynasty, see Wilkinson 2012: 1–15; 678–80. Regarding the early cul-
tures in what is now China, see Liu 2004: 105 et passim.
xvii
THE STRUCTURE OF THE YIJING
The Zhouyi (Earliest Texts)
• Images of the sixty-four hexagrams (from to )

• Judgment texts (also referred to as hexagram texts) of the
sixty-four hexagrams (from Qian 乾 to Weiji 未濟)
• Line statements of the sixty-four hexagrams (from Qian to
Weiji)
The Ten Wings (Later Canonical Commentaries)
• 1–2: Tuanzhuan 彖傳 (Commentary to the Judgments)

• 3–4: Xiangzhuan 象傳 (Commentary to the Images)
• 5–6: Xici 繫辭 (Appended Statements), also known as the
Dazhuan 大傳 (Great Commentary)
• 7: Wenyan 文言 (Words of the Text)
• 8: Shuogua 說卦 (Explanation of the Trigrams)
• 9: Xugua 序卦 (Hexagrams in Sequence)
• 10: Zagua 雜卦 (Hexagrams in Irregular Order)
xix
Introduction: The Rewards
and Perils of Studying
an Ancient Classic
The Yijing (I Ching, or Book of Changes), along with the Hindu Vidas
Upanishads and the Hebrew Bible, is one of the world’s oldest books
in continuous use; it has been considered by Chinese to contain their
most profound philosophy. Yet it began three thousand years ago as a
humble divination manual, basically a collection of folk expressions,
magic spells, and allusions to long-forgotten ancient events. How it
came to be an ethical and philosophical text, and now a psychologi-
cal one, is a fascinating saga that takes us from the beginnings of
recorded human consciousness to the digital age.
Despite its centrality in Chinese intellectual history, it is with
much trepidation that one sets out to write about the Yijing. Its first
layer, the Zhouyi, is extremely ancient. Though the date of composi-
tion is disputed by a factor of three centuries, we have no idea who
composed it, or even if one can even speak of authorship at all regard-
ing a text assembled from diverse, long-lost sources nearly three mil-
lennia ago. Perhaps the Zhouyi’s meanings were clear to those for
whom it was contemporary, but since then, thousands of pages of
commentaries have been expended debating, often acrimoniously,
the meanings of even its seemingly most transparent passages. It
is not only the texts that elude definitive exegesis. The hexagrams,
the famous six-line figures often depicted surrounding the familiar
yin-yang symbol, were at times given meanings with little evident
basis in the text. These diagrams, being independent of language,
1
underwent a sort of diaspora and are now found in contexts rang-

ing from Tibetan art, to the flag of South Korea, to the T-shirts of
Western martial arts students. Whether understood or not, they
look like they mean something profound. Of course, it is this very
complexity and fluidity of possible meanings that have made possible
the universality of the Yijing and contributed to its fascination.1
Despite, or perhaps because of, all these intricacies, the Yijing
remains in use as a scriptural classic by many individuals throughout
the world, even though it is not an official text for any institutional
religion. In traditional China, however, it was one of the five formally
officially recognized “Confucian classics,” together with the Classics
of Songs, Documents, Rites and the Spring and Autumn Annals.2 The
Chinese word, jing, as in Yijing has a meaning in between what we
would term a scripture, that is a text of spiritual revelation, and a
classic, an important and esteemed book. Only a very select group of
Chinese texts were considered jing.
Full understanding and appreciation of the Yijing involves being
aware of its dual, even paradoxical, nature as an ancient historical
text embodying nearly forgotten ways of life and as a modern scrip-
ture (or self-help book) still consulted for practical guidance by mil-
lions throughout the world.
CL ASHING OPINIONS ABOUT AN

ANCIENT CL ASSIC
Few who have engaged with the Yijing have remained neutral about
it; controversy began centuries ago and continues into the present
day. The following gives a sense of the ranges of responses to the clas-
sic. We can begin by letting the Yijing speak for itself:
1. Much has been written about the fascination of the Zhouyi. Of particular inter-
est are the works of Jung 1950; Rutt 1996: 44–59; and Smith 2012.
2. The Confucian classics are discussed in detail in the monograph by Nylan
(2001).
2
I n t r o duc t i o n
The Changes is a paradigm of heaven and earth. . . . Looking up,

we use it to observe the configurations of heaven, and, looking
down, we use it to examine the patterns of earth. Thus we under-
stand the reasons underlying what is hidden and what is clear.
We trace things back to their origins then turn back to their ends.
Thus we understand the axiom of life and death.3
The Dazhuan, the Great Commentary, also implies that Confucius

endorsed the Book of Changes:
The Master [Confucius] said: “The Changes, how perfect it is! It

was by means of the Changes that the sages exalted their virtues
and broadened their undertakings.”4
This is now thought to be apocryphal. Given that the Dazhuan was

part of the Yijing, this can be regarded in somewhat the same light
as a modern publisher’s blurb, as a way of enhancing the appeal of
the work.
In a passage in the Lunyu (the Analects), Confucius was famously
represented as saying:
Give me a few more years. . . . [I]‌f I have fifty years to study the

Book of Changes, then perhaps I, too, can avoid any great errors.5
The Wilhelm-Baynes translation continues this conventional inter-

pretation, as do many Chinese sources; however, following current
scholarly consensus, Watson gives as the more likely translation,
“give me fifty years to study,” without any reference to the Book
of Changes. While current scholarship doubts that Confucius ever
made such a statement, throughout imperial Chinese history, it
was accepted as the Master’s endorsement of the Changes. This
3. Dazhuan I.4; Lynn 1994: 51.

4. Dazhuan I.7; Lynn 1994: 56.
5. Lunyu 7: 16; Watson 2007: 50.
3
contributed to the Yijing’s reputation for profound wisdom, however

difficult it may have been to understand. This appealing myth con-
tinues to be widely taught to students in China, Hong Kong, Taiwan,
and Singapore. Like many myths it does embody a truth: Whether
the great sage knew the Changes or not, it became an inextricable
component of the complex and syncretistic philosophy now referred
to as Confucianism.
Moving west, we find similar praise for the Changes. An early
admirer, Paul Carus (1852–1919), in what now seems quaint
Orientalist language, declared the Yijing to be
one of the most ancient, most curious, and most mysterious doc-
uments in the world. It is more mysterious than the pyramids of
Egypt, more ancient than the Vedas of India, more curious than
the cuneiform inscriptions of Babylon.6
It was Richard Wilhelm’s German version, as translated into English

by Cary F. Baynes, that made the Yijing accessible to non-sinologists.
Wilhelm extolled the classic as “unquestionably one of the most
important books in the world’s literature.”7
Likewise, Carl G. Jung expressed great esteem for the Yijing—and
its admirers:
The I Ching insists on self-knowledge throughout. . . . It is appro-

priate only for thoughtful and intelligent people who like to
think about what they do and what happens to them. . . . 8
Others, however, have been far less admiring. The translator James
Legge commented:
6. Carus 1907: 26.
7. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xlvi.
8. Jung’s (1950) Foreword to Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxxiii.
4
[U]‌ntil the Chinese drop their hallucination about the I [Changes]

as containing all things that have ever been dreamt of in all phi-
losophies, it will prove a stumbling block to them, and keep them
from entering upon the true path of science.9
Despite his rather dismissive rhetoric, Legge was an untiring scholar

who produced the first accurate English version (1882) of the ancient
Chinese classics.10
The great British historian of Chinese science, Joseph Needham,
noted the uniqueness of the Yijing:
[A]‌n elaborate system of symbols and their explanations (not

without a certain inner consistency and aesthetic force), having
no close counterpart in the texts of any other civilization.11
But he added that “the abstractness of the symbolism gave it a decep-

tive profundity,”12 substituting “for what was actually observed in
nature . . . an empty symbolism. . . .”13
Needham was preoccupied with the question of why science in
China did not develop systematically as it did in the West. He sug-
gested that the belief that the Yijing contained all necessary truth
inhibited further speculation about the natural world. While it is true
that the literati believed in Yijing cosmology, counterfactuals, such
as hypothesizing why something as broad as science did not hap-
pen at a particular time and place in history are dubious. Needham’s
point about the comprehensiveness of its symbol system does merit
attention here, because it hints at what is probably the Yijing’s most
positive cultural contribution—providing imagery that served as
unifying factors across the great ethnic, linguistic, cultural, and geo-
graphic diversity of China and East Asia.
9. Legge 1899; quoted in Needham (SSC II) 1956: 336.

10. See Girardot 2002 for a biography of Legge.
11. Needham (SSC II) 1956: 304.
12. Needham (SSC II) 1956: 304.
13. Needham (SSC II) 1956: 325.
5
YIJING PHOBIA
The suspicion expressed by Legge and Needham persists to this

day. Traditionally, graduate students have been warned away from
taking up this most challenging of Chinese classics. Thus, Edward
L. Shaughnessy, one of the most renowned anglophone scholars
of the Changes, recalls that he was told by his professor, the distin-
guished oracle-bone scholar David Keightley, that he had often been
admonished as a graduate student that “an interest in the Yijing was
one of three sure signs that a sinologist had gone overboard.”14
Another leading Western scholar of the Yijing, Richard J. Smith,
was similarly admonished:
For years, friends and colleagues have warned me not to tackle

the evolution of the Yijing, or Classic of Changes. The topic is too
big and too complicated, they said, and they were right. The study
of the Changes, or Yixue 易學, is a black hole within the China
field . . . that allows no possibility of escape for anyone drawn by
its powerful pull.15
Fortunately, these now eminent scholars did not allow themselves to

be frightened away from engagement with this sinological black hole.
They were undaunted, despite being well aware of the difficulties of
their subject. Indeed, those who claim to find the Yijing simple to
understand can be assumed not to have comprehended its subtleties.
No less a figure than the Kangxi emperor himself said as much. As
told by Richard J. Smith, the emperor asked his court lecturers “not
to make the Yijing appear simple,” and “when reading the Yi, with his
teachers, three days were spent on each hexagram.”16
Smith further tells us that one Qing scholar Qian Lucan, whose
fame as a Yijing savant attracted several hundred students, would
14. Shaughnessy 1995: 223.

15. Smith 2008: xi.
16. Smith 1991: 112.
6
spend a month teaching each hexagram.17 No doubt Qian and his fol-
lowers had more time on their hands than the emperor, though one
might speculate that the prolonged period of instruction may have
had pecuniary as well as intellectual motives. Nonetheless, anyone
who persists in trying to fully understand the Changes can find the
years slipping by. This does not mean that a useful knowledge of the
classic cannot be obtained in less time. Indeed, it is the purpose of
the present work to facilitate this process.
We are left to imagine for ourselves the reasons for these phobias
regarding the Yijing, though some will become clear as the present
book proceeds. A prominent, if not always acknowledged, reason for
suspicion regarding the Yijing is its association with divination, long
condemned by Western religious authorities and now disparaged
by the scientific establishment.18 Moreover, the enthusiasm of the
1960s occult counterculture for the newly translated ancient classic
engendered suspicion that interest in the Yijing signaled wavering
capacity for critical thought. Divination is discussed in more depth
in the following chapter.
The Western Yijing revival did introduce new ways of understand-
ing the ancient classic. Indeed, it is particularly the interpretations
of Carl G. Jung that have reinvented the Changes for modern readers.
Jung’s views are of considerable interest and are discussed in detail
in a later chapter. These reinterpretations make the Changes more
accessible to moderns, but can have the unfortunate effect of sup-
planting the traditional meanings of the classic. Modern psychologi-
cal interpretations of the Yijing are considered in c hapter 10. Despite,
or perhaps in part because of, its many difficulties, Chinese generally
regarded the Yijing as the most valuable of the Confucian classics,
and it is the only one to have attained best-seller status in the West.19
17. Smith 1991: 108.

18. Although science certainly does not support divination, it should not be
imagined that this is an important issue among scientists. Except for a few outspoken
debunkers, most scientists have little interest in the matter.
19. The Daodejing of Laozi is likely the second best-selling Chinese classic in the
West, and supposedly the most translated. It continues to be regarded as inspira-
tional by many. While Confucius undoubtedly enjoys the best name recognition of
7
GOING OVERBOARD: FACING THE HAZARDS

OF YIJING SCHOL ARSHIP
Sinologists are still known to shake their heads when the subject of
the Changes comes up. There is an extra irony here because one of the
meanings of the character “yi” 易 is “easy.” Some think this, rather
than “change” was the original meaning, because its use for divina-
tion with yarrow sticks was much easier than the elaborate prepa-
rations required for oracle-bone divination. Perhaps, the text was
indeed easy three thousand years ago, but it has not been since.
When there are so many warnings, there must be some real dan-
ger, and it must be acknowledged that expressing opinions about
this ancient text can be risky. Only the simplest statements about
the Changes can be made without fear of eventual refutation. Dates,
authorship, meanings of many key words and phrases, all are uncer-
tain.20 Yet the Yijing, for all its mythological and occult associations,
is simply a text; as with other ancient texts, meticulous consideration
of the received version, comparison to excavated variants, and recog-
nition of historical context can yield much of immense interest, even
if enough obscurities remain for the text to maintain its beguiling
sense of mystery.
Heedless of these many perils, we have decided to “cross the great
water” and provide this introduction to the study and teaching of the
Changes, hoping to have selected an appropriately auspicious moment
to do so. In fact, much suggests that this is indeed a favorable time for
crossing the great water of the Yijing. The revival of China’s presence
any Chinese philosopher, the Lunyu does not seem to have caught popular interest
outside China to the same degree as the Yijing or the Daodejing. This is not to say that
the Master lacks modern admirers. For an influential attempt to revalidate Confucius,
see Fingarette 1998.
20. There is an old story, likely apocryphal, that on the first day of medical school,
the professor announces to beginning students, “Half of what we are going to teach
you during the next four years is wrong. The problem is, we don’t know which half it
is.” Something like this may be true of the Yijing—and of history generally. The only
remedy is to continuously question our certainties.
8
on the world stage, the waning of ideological suppression of schol-

arship within the People’s Republic, easy travel to China, increased
enrollment in university courses on Chinese language and history—
all of these contribute to the present surge in worldwide interest in
the phenomenon that is China. In recent decades Chinese scholarship
has blossomed, providing much new information about the Changes.
Unfortunately, much of this scholarship is difficult to find, or it
assumes the reader already possesses detailed knowledge of the clas-
sic. What is needed is an integration of these new insights with tradi-
tional and early modern understandings of the Changes. One reason
for crossing the great water is to bring this new information to anglo-
phone readers. The great water is actually quite wide as it must cover
the reconstructed early meanings, the two millennium long classical
commentarial tradition, and the newly discovered manuscripts.
HELP FOR THE PERPLEXED: THE YIJING AND

ITS COMMENTARIES
The Chinese, too, when curiosity about the Yijing leads them to start
reading it, find themselves perplexed, even as they maintain faith
in its profundity.21 A fundamental reason is that the classical form
of the Chinese language has not been part of standard curricula
for the past century. The Yijing in the received version is actually a
much harder book to read in the original Chinese than in translation
because the many difficulties of the text have not been smoothed out
by a translator. Not that this removal of difficulties is entirely a good
thing. Translations, including those into modern Chinese, tend to
favor simplicity over accuracy. A good translation of the Yijing should
leave the reader puzzled by some passages because they are inher-
ently enigmatic.
21. Despite its obscurities, or perhaps partly because of them, the Yijing contin-
ues to fascinate. At the time of a recent visit to Hong Kong, one well-known general
bookstore had on display nearly one hundred works related to the Yijing.
9
The literati of premodern China who studied the Changes also

found it challenging, but they expected to spend much of their
youth, or even their entire lives, trying to refine their understanding
of the Yijing and other classics. Most importantly, they had access to
a commentarial tradition, both written and oral, extending back over
many centuries. These would have provided explanations for words,
phrases, and imagery that were already obscure by Confucius’s time.
(Meaning changes are discussed in c hapter 5.) Although the commen-
taries were far from unanimous, at least interpretations by esteemed
scholars were available to aid one in choosing between a variety of
exegetic traditions. The Han scholars emphasized cosmological
aspects, with the diagrams tending to be emphasized over the text.
An alternate tradition associated with the work of Wang Bi (226‒249
CE), focused on the philosophical ideas in the text, although the dia-
grams were still important. These schools are discussed in detail in
chapters 7 and 8.
During the Song, philosophical interpretations of the Changes
blossomed. Zhu Xi, often said to be the second most influential phi-
losopher of China, wrote two highly influential works on the clas-
sic; these established standard interpretations that lasted until the
early twentieth century. Other influential commentators included
Cheng Yi, who, like Wang Bi, emphasized ethical content, and Shao
Yong, who developed elaborate cosmological theories based on the
diagrams. This diversity of interpretative approaches should not sur-
prise us. Uniquely, the Changes has a dual nature, consisting of dia-
grams and texts—which of these is regarded as primary is essentially
a matter of temperament.
The high esteem in which the Yijing was held was based not only
on the existence of learned commentaries, but on something akin to
religious faith. Its creation was attributed to culture heroes, includ-
ing Confucius, who were regarded as the founders of Chinese culture.
Throughout the development of thought in premodern China, phi-
losophers usually justified their ideas as returning to the ways of high
antiquity. Since this ancient past was an idealized mythical creation,
not limited by an actual historical record, it was easy for Chinese
10
thinkers to project their own ideas onto it. Confucius frequently

assumed that the ancient past was superior to his own time in ethical
understanding and in practice of governance:
The Master said, “I was not born with knowledge, but being fond
of antiquity, I am quick to seek it.”22
As an example of how far his own age had fallen from the ideal, the
Master commented:
Formerly people studied to improve themselves; now they do so

to impress others.23
Concern with behaving in accord with prescribed rules affected the

minutiae of everyday life. If ritual propriety was violated, there could
be both social and supernatural consequences.24 Much of the value of
the Changes was that it could tell one what was the correct way to act
at a given moment.
Given its mythic origins with culture heroes, the Yijing was con-
sidered a definitive guide to harmonizing humanity with heaven and
earth. As stated in a Tang commentary:
When kings acted . . . they necessarily accorded with yin and yang

so that not a single thing was harmed. Therefore, since they
were able to hold together the cosmos and respond to the spirit
light, the royal altars were never exhausted and their reputations
never decayed.25
Here it is clearly implied that when rulers have an understanding of

yin and yang there results a state of balance and order within the
22. Lunyu 7: 20; Lau 1992: 61.

23. Lunyu 14: 25; Watson 2007: 100.
24. For examples of the extreme elaboration of regulation of behavior, see Major
et al. 2010: 182–206.
25. Shisan jing zhushu; quoted in Bol 1992: 95.
11
empire. Such an understanding came to be one of the basic principles

for Yijing interpretation.
This conventional account of the Changes did not go entirely
unquestioned. At least by the Song, there were a few literati
who doubted the received account of the book’s origins, though
not its profundity. However, the mythic account was generally
accepted, or at least doubts were suppressed, until the work of early
twentieth-century Chinese philologists. Their analysis fundamen-
tally changed the way the difficulties of the classic were viewed, as dis-
cussed in chapter 9. In the modern era, the Yijing may still be viewed
as a repository of secrets—now concerning humanity’s remote past,
rather than the ultimate meaning of the universe.
THE YIJING WAS FOR THE LIVING
Though it may not be noticed by most modern readers, a distinc-

tive feature of the Changes is that it almost entirely concerns the
living. Much other Chinese divination, notably the oracle bones, is
concerned with the welfare of the dead—though this is assumed to
have implications for the living. In Shang China, as evidenced by the
oracle bones, communication with the dead was a major activity of
rulers. Much Chinese divination, beginning with the oracle bones,
was addressed to the deceased or to spirits, because many human
afflictions, particularly disease, were assumed to be due to resent-
ments by supernatural entities. However loving they may have been
in life, after death relatives were assumed to be spiteful.26 In much
of the world, ghosts are still assumed to be real. Among Chinese,
“yin feng shui”—that is, feng shui for the realm of the dead—is still
employed by many to ensure that their deceased relatives will not
be angered by an unsuitable burial. Such is the level of anxiety that
26. Though such beliefs seem quaint now, fear of the dead persists. We are still
scared by ghost stories, and few will venture into cemeteries at night.
12
the feng shui masters receive large fees by offering advice on grave
siting.
The mystery of death has always been a major human preoccu-
pation. Despite the impossibility of objective knowledge about the
state of the dead, speculation and mythology about it have always
been extensive. Some still seek to communicate beyond the veil. In
the early twentieth century, so-called spiritualism, with its séances
intended to receive messages from the deceased, had many followers,
including even scientists and such luminaries as Arthur Conan Doyle
and William James—although there were prominent debunkers as
well, such as the stage magician Houdini. Mediumship, under the
newer term of “channeling,” enjoyed a revival of sorts in the 1960s
that continues to the present day.
In contrast to oracle-bone pyromancy, shamanism, and yin
feng shui, the Yijing does not explicitly address spirits or the dead
as being responsible for the welfare of the living. While in the
Western Zhou it was probably assumed that responses to inqui-
ries somehow originated with ancestors, there is little trace of this
belief in later use. Thus, the Yijing is this-worldly; as such, it is in
harmony with two of the best-known passages in the Lunyu. When
asked by his disciple, Jilu, about spirits and death, Confucius
replies:
When you don’t yet know how to serve human beings, how can
you serve the spirits? . . . When you don’t yet understand life, how
can you understand death?27
Despite Confucius, Chinese remained preoccupied with efforts to

reach the spirit world. However, the use of the Changes can be consid-
ered a cultural advance because it refocused attention on this-worldly
actions to attain one’s ends, rather than on the supposed wishes of
the dead. That the Yijing is a guidebook for life rather than death is a
necessary part of its continuing appeal.
27. Lunyu 11: 12; Watson 2009: 73.
13
THE THREE BOOKS OF CHANGES
Reading about the Book of Changes in disparate sources can induce a

sense of vertigo—each source may seem to be about a different book.
And, in a sense, this is true: While all literary and sacred texts, espe-
cially ancient scriptures, offer room for multiple interpretations, the
internal differences of the Yijing are particularly substantial. A use-
ful way to approach the classic is to consider it not as one Book of
Changes, but as three.28
The first iteration of the Changes consists exclusively of the
Western Zhou portions—the Zhouyi—either as part of the transmit-
ted text or as reconstructed by modern scholars. Each Zhouyi section
consists of four components: a title or tag, a six line gua (hexagram),
a general statement, usually referred to as the hexagram “text” or
“judgment,” and six individual line texts. In strict usage, the term
is employed, Zhouyi specifically refers to these elements composed
in the Western Zhou texts; it excludes the Ten Wings, the canoni-
cal commentarial texts that were not appended to it until several
centuries later.29 Many Chinese editions, as well as the translation
of Wilhelm and Baynes, place parts of the Ten Wings commentar-
ies with the Western Zhou texts, making it difficult to tell which is
which. The relation of the various portions of the text are discussed
in chapters 2, 4 and 5.
The second iteration of the Changes is what is properly referred to
as the Yijing—that is, the Zhouyi with the addition of the Ten Wings
commentaries. In our discussion, the terms “received text,” “received
tradition,” or “transmitted version” refer to the text that was declared
canonical in 136 BCE and became standard with minimal variation
28. The distinction here is a modern one. According to Chinese tradition, there
were originally three books of Changes, but of these only the Zhouyi survived (Hacker
1993: 101). The recently excavated manuscripts, which were found in tombs of the
late Warring States or early Han, also vary from the received version. The latter are
discussed in c hapter 4.
29. In common usage in China, however, the term Zhouyi often refers to the
entire Yijing.
14
from the Han dynasty onward. The traditional commentaries were

based on the received text, which seems to have been the only one
in general use prior to the twentieth century. The versions outside
the received tradition are the excavated manuscripts and the recon-
structed original meanings. The latter are important because pos-
sibly by the Spring and Autumn, and certainly by the late Warring
States, the meanings of some of the graphs had changed radically.
These alternative versions of the Changes are discussed in chapters
4 and 5.
The Changes was valued for its presumed antiquity, but was made
suitable for the classical canon by the addition of ethical and philo-
sophical content. Richard Rutt asserts that in itself the Zhouyi had no
intrinsic ethical or spiritual content, but that such was manifested
only in the minds of its later commentators. Certainly we do not find
the well-developed moral sense in the Western Zhou texts that we
find in later ones such as the Zuozhuan and the Lunyu. Yet we do find
concern with whether actions are proper or not.
The third iteration of the Changes is that of the globalized mod-
ern world. We refer to this as most non-Chinese specialists know
it—the I Ching, usually mispronounced in English as “eye ching.”30
Many know the I Ching only by reputation, but still believe it to be
a profound work. Some read the I Ching for divination, but have lit-
tle sense of its traditional meanings and tend to be unaware of any
scholarship later than that of Wilhelm and Jung. A large subgenre
of publications relates the I Ching to such contemporary concerns as
the DNA double helix, quantum physics, psychedelic drugs, business
administration, marketing, creative writing, romance, and others.
30. The spelling as I Ching is the old Wade-Giles romanization, now replaced by
pinyin, which is official in the People’s Republic. Some currently published works still
employ the old Wade-Giles system. Unfortunately, while there are several excellent
English translations, as listed in an appendix to the present volume, most of what
are purported to be the I Ching are very loose adaptations, often by “translators” with
no actual knowledge of Chinese. A similar situation exists with the Daodejing—one
recent “translator” of which claimed he was uniquely able to know what it really meant
because of his advanced spiritual development.
15
These contain a few vaguely Chinese ideas gleaned from secondary

sources diluted with New Age clichés, pop psychology, and misun-
derstood science. They appear in many languages, including Chinese.
Such treatments, however, demonstrate the remarkable fact that the
Book of Changes continues to seem relevant to many, three thousand
years after its initial portions were composed. Modern appropria-
tions of the classic are discussed in c hapters 9 and 10.
DUALITIES IN READING THE YIJING
Like yin and yang, opinions regarding the Changes tend to divide into
dualities, but without one ever completely replacing the other. A basic
difference concerns whether the classic is primarily a divination manual
or a book of wisdom. Those who see it as a monument of Chinese culture
tend to present it as a book of wisdom, divination being out of intellec-
tual fashion in the modern world. Yet in its earliest form as the Zhouyi,
there is no indication that it served any other purpose than divination.
At our present distance, this dispute seems unnecessary. A book
of wisdom may be consulted for practical guidance. Conversely, a
method of divination, to be useful, should give wise advice. To under-
stand the Yijing within Chinese culture, due consideration must be
given to both approaches.
To read the Zhouyi, or Yijing, or I Ching in linear order from begin-
ning to end is both confusing and frustrating. We need to remind
ourselves that in traditional use, the Changes was not read like a mod-
ern book. Usually, a chapter or line text was selected by a random
process to answer the question at hand. Alternatively, literati might
flip through the book, hoping to alight on something with personal
meaning. When passages are selected nonrandomly, the process is
less mysterious, but there may be a gain in relevance. However, use
of a random method may suggest possibilities that are unexpected,
yet pertinent.
16
Another duality is between approaching the Yijing as a timeless

classic or as an historically conditioned text. The former is often
the view of believer/practitioners and the latter that of scholars,
who recognize it as obscure in many places with fluid interpreta-
tions that varied over time. This mode is not primarily concerned
to validate the wisdom in the text, but rather to reconstruct the
changing ways it was understood. Here, too, both approaches can
be used for different intents. Practitioners use the Changes as a
source of guidance, whether simply by reading it or by divination,
selecting a hexagram by one of several random processes. They
respond to it as a living text relevant to modern life, all the more
credible because of its ancient provenance. Some believers adapt
an historically informed approach—for example, recognizing that
the culture heroes such as Fu Xi, King Wen, and the Duke of Zhou
were mythical, but still finding the Yijing useful for psychological
insight or decision making. Some scholars, one suspects, believe
the Yijing is effective for divination, but perhaps keep this to them-
selves (figure 0.1).
The wisdom of the Yijing was rarely questioned by Chinese lite-
rati until the modern era. The Yijing came under critical examination
by the iconoclastic Doubting Antiquity Movement (Yigupai 疑古派)
of the 1920s and 1930s and was intermittently suppressed under
Mao Zedong. Such is its durability, however, that it is now enjoying
a revival in China. Scholarly study has moved away from exegesis to
elucidating the text’s historical development.
A final note: The difficulty of the Changes is of a fundamentally
different kind from that of modernist works such as T. S. Eliot’s The
Wasteland, Ezra Pound’s Cantos, the novels of James Joyce, and even
the song lyrics of Bob Dylan. All of these contain obscure allusions,
often echoes of earlier literary works, and all juxtapose fragments
whose connection is not readily apparent. The difference is that
these works are deliberately obscure while the Zhouyi was likely clear
to those who used it three thousand years ago, or at least to those
schooled in its interpretation. Modernism in the arts has brought
17
with it a taste for obscurity, and perhaps the obscurity of the Yijing is
part of its contemporary appeal.
READING THE YIJING IN TRANSL ATION
It has to be acknowledged that some of the difficulty of reading

the Yijing is due to the problems posed in translating it. This is not
to disparage the work of such major translators as Legge, Kunst,
Wilhelm and Baynes, Rutt, and Lynn. Each is invaluable, and with-
out their efforts the classic would have remained inaccessible to
English-language readers. Working with an extremely obscure origi-
nal, each of these translators necessarily made decisions, each of
which unavoidably reduces the range of meanings that can be found
in the original. Understanding the choices that must be made by the
translator helps in understanding specific versions.
When reading a translation, it is important to be aware of what
stage in its interpretive evolution it is based on. We have versions
based on the Western Zhou (Kunst, Rutt), the time of Wang Bi (Lynn),
and the late Qing (Legge, Wilhelm-Baynes). The advantages and dis-
advantages of the major English versions are discussed in c hapter 11.
18
C hapter 1
Divination: Fortune-telling
and Philosophy
I have borrowed the subtitle of this chapter from Richard J. Smith’s

outstanding book on Chinese divination,1 because the phrase
expresses well what at first seems paradoxical—a relation between
divination and the highest levels of human thought. While in the
modern world divination is generally dismissed as mere superstition,
in traditional cultures generally, including China, it was regarded as
indispensable for making reliable decisions. Correct ritual perfor-
mance, especially divination, was essential for rulers to maintain
credibility, because there was no other way that the will of the gods
or of heaven could be known. The resources expended on divination
in early China, such as tortoise shells and sacrificial livestock, rep-
resented a significant portion of the society’s total wealth. As civi-
lizations evolved and total wealth increased, the cost of divinatory
procedures represented a far smaller proportion of a society’s total
expenditures but fees commanded by diviners were often high, as is
the case today. Another potential social cost was the undue influence
diviners could exert over people at all levels of society, even the most
politically powerful. Nonetheless, divination was felt to be essen-
tial to proper conduct of life. Both the knowledge and the materials
needed to write would have been available only to the elite, so all
1. Smith 1991.
19
traces of divination methods used by commoners have perished.2 Yet,

given the universality of divination among present-day indigenous
cultures, the non-elite must have had their own methods, which need
not have involved writing.
Among those who practiced divination in both China and the
West were many of the leading philosophers. With all the intelli-
gence and effort bestowed upon divination, it is not surprising that
over time it attained progressively higher degrees of complexity and
sophistication. Whether the ingenuity expended in creating ever
more complex systems was repaid by better results is a question not
readily answered.
Divination was not merely fortune-telling—it came to incorpo-
rate philosophy, cosmology, morality, and principles of social order.
From the Shang onward, divination results regarding state affairs
were meticulously recorded, sometimes on imperishable materials,
and now serve us as an indispensable part of the historical record.
The earliest surviving records, the oracle bones, recorded royal and
elite divinations; but as literacy became more prevalent, divinations
about personal life began to be set in writing on bamboo or silk, some
of which have been excavated, providing some of the best evidence
we have regarding the hopes and fears of the people of early China.
Even nearly a millennium later some texts contained phrases similar
to the oracle-bone inscriptions—for example, the Wangshan divina-
tion texts found in the tomb of an official buried in 316 BCE.3
Science has eroded the universality of divination, but has not
eliminated its use. Private use is widespread worldwide. In China
under Mao Zedong, use of the Yijing, as well as other “feudal” works,
was usually proscribed, though some believe that not only the Great
Helmsman, but his archenemy Chiang Kai-shek consulted it. In con-
temporary China, with the recent relaxation of state control over
2. The complexity of oracle-bone divination as a social phenomenon is now receiv-

ing more attention. For a valuable review, see Flad 2008, including the attached com-
mentaries by Sarah Allan and Rod Campbell.
3. C. Cook 2006
20
D ivi n a t i o n : F o r t u n e - T e lli n g a n d P hil o s o ph y
intellectual activity, the Yijing is resuming its place as a source of

cultural pride and spiritual inspiration. While the vogue it enjoyed
in the West with the 1960s’ counterculture has subsided, it contin-
ues to have many devotees outside China as well. Nor is the use of
divination in the modern world solely private. In Hong Kong no
major building is constructed without consulting feng shui masters
who may charge six-figure fees. Supposedly astrology was used in
the Reagan White House to pick optimal dates for official functions.
Though divination in the contemporary world holds nothing like the
central place it had in Shang China, it retains its hold on the human
imagination; for this reason, as well as for historical interest, it is
worth studying.
The Yijing is a difficult work, but these difficulties are not merely
sinological. The frequent dismissal of divination as mere superstition
makes it hard to understand why in the past nearly everyone, even
kings and philosophers, relied upon it. To understand premodern
thought in both East and West, it is necessary to appreciate the role
of divination. The first step is to recognize that divination is some-
thing more than is suggested by the phrase “fortune-telling.” Lisa
Raphals has provided a definition that makes clear the wider role of
divination:
By “divination” I mean a deliberate search for understanding of

the hidden significance of events in the future, present, or past.
For this reason, I do not use the term “prognostication” which
is concerned only with the future. Nor does it assume a divine
entity directly addressed. It does presuppose a diviner and a
topic of inquiry. It may, but need not, involve interaction with
a god or other extra-human contact. . . . Divination may rely
entirely on a hermeneutic system of signs, with no divine agency
implied. . . . Divination thus may, but need not, involve predic-
tion, and also may, but need not, involve magic.4
4. Raphals 2008–2009: 47f.
21
An even broader definition is that of Koch: “A way of exploring the

unknown in order to elicit answers (that is, oracles) to questions
beyond the range of ordinary human understanding.”5
Although a divination system is usually employed to answer spe-
cific questions, the system must be based on a cosmology, because
there must be some notion of how the universe permits access to this
special knowledge. Prescientific cosmologies were based on macro–
microcosmic equivalence and assumed correspondence between the
cosmic and individual levels. In earlier divination systems, such as
the oracle bones, the cosmology was only implicit—deceased ances-
tors somehow still existed and could affect the living. Their wishes
could be made known via pyromancy or yarrow divination.
Over time, divination methods tend to become progressively
more elaborate. This happened with the Yijing and also with Western
astrology, which began in ancient Mesopotamia and is now done by
computer. Though early divination records do not contain the sort
of speculative thought that can be considered philosophy, some—
though certainly not all—later works came to include ethical, reli-
gious, cosmological, and philosophical ideas. Socrates assumed
divination could yield accurate information, as did Confucius. In the
modern world, more than a few astrologers or Yijing practitioners
have advanced degrees and considerable professional attainment, and
are paid for their services.6 The study of divination continues, both by
practitioners and by scholars, their activities sometimes overlapping.
CONTEMPORARY THINKING ABOUT

DIVINATION
One frequently encounters strong condemnations of divination

by self-appointed spokespersons on behalf of “science.” These
5. Koch 2010: 44.
6. Many academic studies have demonstrated that stock market fluctuations can-
not be predicted. This has not stopped people from seeking market tips. The desire to
know the future remains, despite the fact that it remains mostly hidden from even the
most expert of us.
22
have been particularly prominent against astrology, which is the

most widely used form of divination in the contemporary West.
Similar criticisms have also been directed at the Changes. Such
diatribes usually assume simple-minded credulity on the part
of those employing divination and charlatanism on the part of
practitioners. They are not founded upon actual observation of
divination practices. There are, of course, those who use divina-
tion unwisely, though we should not forget that many are able to
make bad decisions without the aid of divination. Unfortunately,
there has never a shortage of charlatans who use divination as a
pretext to cheat the vulnerable of large sums of money. However,
this does not mean that all divination is fraudulent in intention,
nor that all who consult the stars, cards, or yarrow sticks (Achillea
millefolium) follow divination’s advice slavishly. Most are aware
of the need for caution; certainly those in traditional China who
patronized diviners were well aware of the prevalence of bogus
practitioners.
Another sort of condemnation of divination is religious. Judaism,
Christianity, and Islam traditionally denounce it as communication
with the devil, or as attempting to know what is reserved for God.
Such is the appeal of these practices, however, that official proscrip-
tions have never been very effective. Implicit in prohibitions of divi-
nation is the desire of established authority to control access to the
transcendent.
Divination has been criticized on political as well as religious and
scientific grounds. Modern Chinese governmental criticisms of Yijing
divination are discussed in chapter 9. Western philosophers, too,
have criticized divination—for example, the Frankfurt School social
philosopher Theodor W. Adorno, one of the early practitioners of the
“hermeneutics of suspicion.” In a book-length critique of newspaper
astrology columns, he writes:
The semi-erudite vaguely wants to understand and is also driven

by the narcissistic wish to prove superior to the plain people but
23
he is not in a position to carry through complicated and detached

intellectual operations.7
Ultimately, we find that Adorno’s grievance against astrology is

derived from his Frankfurt School version of Marxism:
[Astrology] . . . implies that all problems due to objective circum-

stances, such as, above all, economic difficulties, can be solved
in terms of private individual behavior or by psychological
insight. . . . 8
In this critique, astrology, like religion generally, is an opiate that

keeps the masses from revolting against the oppressive system. This
view of divination has some basis—the text of Yijing, especially the
Zhouyi, as well as later Confucian interpreters never questions the
hegemonic system of government. Historically, divination has cer-
tainly served power interests,9 but it has also served as a vehicle for
social criticism and even to inspire rebellion. Divination, like religion
and spirituality generally, concerns humanity’s deepest hopes and
fears, and thus can be an effective tool to influence and manipulate.
Most often divination has served to help people cope with the status
quo, rather than to seek to change it. The same can be said, however,
of modern psychotherapy, commercial entertainment, and many of
the other activities in which we spend our days.
Michel Gauquelin, a French psychologist and statistician who
began as a skeptic and came to devote himself to the question of the
scientific validity of astrology, expressed a measured sympathy:
Our age has purged the occult sciences, but it is not ungrateful,
or should not be. Sometimes the old doctrines held a grain of
truth in their multicolored veils. . . . Astrology is man’s . . . attempt
7. Adorno 1994: 45
8. Adorno 1994: 57.
9. See, for instance, Flad 2008.
24
to conceptualize the world, and to try to understand the mean-

ing of his presence in the universe and the mystery of his life.
Through the centuries it has fascinated peoples and influenced
civilizations, and caught the imaginations of mankind’s greatest
geniuses. . . . 10
In short, divination fascinates, whatever its validity.

More recent scholarship, like the present work, tends to focus on
understanding what the Book of Changes meant to those who used it,
rather than taking a stand on its efficacy. Yet this does not exclude
divinatory use, as Gregory Whincup comments:
One of the best ways to understand the Changes is to use it for

divination. Without this, the ancients’ attitudes toward it must
always remain partly hidden. I myself, however, no longer use
it in this way. . . . This is not because I do not think it works. My
own experience suggests that it does work—how I am not sure.
It usually gave me answers that seemed significant. . . . But rather
than allow the Changes to make my decisions for me, it seemed
better to make them myself.11
Richard J. Smith, one of the leading English-language scholars of the

classic, is somewhat more restrained in describing his interest:
[M]‌y interest in the Yijing rests entirely on its significance as a

cultural artifact. I am not a true believer in any sense. I do take
the Changes seriously, but primarily because every thinker of
consequence in traditional China did so, and it is important,
I believe, to understand why.12
10. Gauquelin 1969: 232f.

11. Whincup 1996: 223.
12. Smith 2008: 6.
25
Put differently, a full understanding of the Book of Changes does not

require believing in divination, but it does require examining why so
many have believed in it.
TO CONVERSE WITH THE NUMINOUS: HOW

DIVINATION MIGHT WORK
There is, of course, no scientific evidence that divination correctly

foretells the future, other than as coincidence. Striking anecdotes
of fulfilled predictions abound, but these are always after the fact
or depend on the veracity of someone else’s word. Most divinatory
prognostications tend to be ambiguous, making verification subjec-
tive.13 Thus, if the Yijing tells me that it is “not favorable to cross the
great water” and I therefore do not undertake a major project, it is
usually impossible to find out how things would have turned out had
I carried out the project anyway. Yet, this prognostication might have
been of use to me by bringing my underlying doubts to the fore. Or,
I might ignore the advice and move ahead with the project. When
prognostications are ignored or turn out to be incorrect, they tend
simply to be forgotten.
The typical diviner or client might not have reflected much on
why the process worked, just as most do not speculate on why other
rituals they perform might be efficacious. It is well to keep in mind
that divination is generally a response to anxiety and so critical
judgment may be suspended. Most people in the premodern world
simply assumed that divination could be accurate, though this did
not mean believing every claimant to divinatory ability. There were
always skeptics, and sensible people would be on guard against char-
latans. As early as the Warring States, we find skeptics, such as the
Confucian philosopher Xunzi criticizing magical practices. By the
13. Perhaps the most famous example is that of King Croesus of Lydia, who was
elated at being promised a great military victory, only to discover too late that it was
his enemies, the Persians, who achieved the victory.
26
Qing, members of the educated elite expressed worry about the “dan-
gers of inaccurate or unscrupulous divination.”14
In the West, too, there were skeptics, notably Cicero. Though
officially an augur, that is an official who could interpret the divina-
tory meaning of bird flights, Cicero concluded after a very complete
analysis in De divinatione that divination is not valid.15 No doubt
there were other skeptics who did not leave us their opinions in writ-
ten form, yet the mainstream opinion in premodern times seems to
have been that divination can work. Today fortune-telling is illegal in
many jurisdictions, though courts have generally permitted it as free
speech, which of course it is. Most of us probably know people who
are surreptitious users and would be embarrassed to admit it.16 How
divination might work is a more complex matter than it first appears.
A variety of beliefs and theories underlie its use.
Communication with Gods, Spirits, or Ancestors

In traditional cultures the world is filled with invisible beings who
have access to knowledge hidden from humans. Because they cannot
be seen and cannot speak directly to the living, special means are nec-
essary to communicate with these beings. In early China, divination
by pyromancy as recorded in the oracle bones, and yarrow, presumably
something like the Zhouyi, seemed to have been assumed to work by
somehow querying the king’s ancestors. In the modern world, medi-
ums (also referred to as “channelers”) give voice to what are held to
be communications from the deceased or from supernatural beings.17
Channeling is known in many cultures and is quite ancient. The most
14. Smith 1991: 73.

15. Cicero 1923.
16. One of us recalls an informal conversation at a scientific conference where the
subject of tarot somehow came up, and several of the scientists present admitted to
believing that the cards could be accurate. Whether any actually consulted the cards is
another matter. People regularly espouse beliefs they do not act upon.
17. For a discussion of an interesting modern example of channeling by the poet
James Merrill, see Lurie 2001.
27
famous example is the oracle at Delphi. In this sacred place, women

known as “pythonesses” sat on a tripod, where they became possessed
by Apollo, who was the source of the messages. Plato and many other
philosophers of the ancient world, including Augustine, considered
that divination did in fact involve contact with supernatural interme-
diaries, termed “daimones.”18 In part because these practices were part
of the competing pagan religion, Christians stigmatized them as the
work of the devil. Divination was also a threat because it could provide
prophecies contrary to the teachings and authority of the church. In
contrast, use of the Yijing was not likely to stir up the intense emo-
tional responses often evoked by “ecstatic” methods such as shaman-
ism or channeling.19 Probably in part because it did not lend itself to
subversive use, the Yijing was granted official status as a Confucian
classic by imperial decree in 136 BCE.
In the Shang, the primary reason for contacting supernatural
entities was to reduce anxiety by revealing how they could be pro-
pitiated. Yet such practices, as with modern spiritualism, serve the
broader function of maintaining a connection with the unseen world,
particularly the dead, who remain present in memory.
Soul Travel, Including Shamanism

In the previous examples, spirit entities send messages to the human
world, while in shamanism, the soul or spirit of the shaman was pre-
sumed to leave the body, typically during sleep or trance, to travel to
another realm where the cause of events in the ordinary world could
be discovered. In China, shamanism persisted despite the disdain of
Confucian orthodoxy and the occasional efforts of governments to
suppress it. Otherworld journeys were a frequent motif in Daoist lit-
erature from Zhuangzi onward. Even Zhu Xi, the name most associ-
ated with neo-Confucian orthodoxy, consulted shamans.20 However,
18. Johnston 2000: 9.

19. Smith 1991: 265.
20. Sukhu 2012: 76 et passim.
28
this did not seem to play a role in his Yijing interpretation, which did
not involve altered states of consciousness.21
The experience of psychedelic drug use has led some to propose
mind-altering substance use as factor in religious experiences. It has
been proposed that the seeming intoxication of the pythonesses of
Delphi was due to high concentrations of ethylene gas coming from
the cave where they sat upon their tripods.22 A relation between
shamanism and psychedelics is routinely claimed.23 Altered states
can certainly be induced by psychoactive substances, and prophetic
utterances may result. Whether or not the Delphian oracles were
pharmacologically induced, most divination, including premodern
use of the Yijing, clearly does not involve drug use. On the contrary,
divination with the Yijing seems to have been consistently rationalis-
tic and deliberative. In this it was consistent with Confucius’s famed
unwillingness to discuss spirits or anomalies.24
Divination as Inherent in the Operation of

the Cosmos
In traditional cosmologies all events are assumed to be intercon-
nected. Thus the random events employed for divination—such as
cracks on shells or bones, the sorting of yarrow sticks, or the fall of
coins—can, if properly interpreted, reveal the overall pattern of the
cosmos at that moment. This is most directly apparent in astrology in
which the positions of celestial bodies correlate with events on earth;
but the same assumption underlies all divination.
21. It has been suggested that Shang divination involved altered states. The diver-
sity of views on this is summarized by Childs-Johnston (2008: 55 n. 41). Nothing in
the Zhouyi makes reference to altered states, but we do not know how it was used in
the time of its composition. Later Yijing divination seems to have been rationalistic
rather than ecstatic. However, many who divined with the Yijing used ecstatic methods
as well.
22. Broad 2007.
23. Hayden 2003; McKenna 1994.
24. In the Lunyu 7: 20 we find the following line describing Confucius’s learn-
ing habit: “Subjects the Master did not discuss: strange occurrences, feats of strength,
rebellion, the gods” (Watson 2007: 50).
29
In ancient Greece, the basis of correlations was referred to as

sympathia.25 Events in the cosmos are somehow in resonance with
each other so that knowing one event implies being able to know
others. Only special methods or special talents make it possible to
perceive these correlations, however. Correlative thought is funda-
mentally different from scientific causality because, unlike the forces
described by physics, interconnections are metaphysical—that is,
not empirically knowable.26
Correlative metaphysics could be impersonal or could include
supernatural beings. The later form predominated in the ancient
world; deities were associated with the cardinal directions, geo-
graphic locals, and many other natural features. With oracle bones,
and likely with the Zhouyi during the Western Zhou, it was assumed
that answers came from deceased ancestors or other spiritual
beings.27 Gradually a more abstract cosmology developed, though it
did not replace supernatural beliefs. In later use of the Yijing, there is
little evidence that ancestors or spirits were thought to provide the
answers. Rather, it was the wisdom of the sages as passed on in the
diagrams and texts of the classic.
Special Human Ability

Some claim to have special abilities enabling them to know matters
hidden from most of humanity. Often they have followers who accept
and proselytize these claims. Shamanism is an instance of this, but
channellers and diviners of all sorts are often assumed to have a spe-
cial ability not possessed by the majority.
The Yijing was associated with the notion of sagehood, a special
ability, but not necessarily a supernatural one. Belief in the existence
of ancient sages was central to Confucianism and to Chinese culture
25. Johnston 2008: 13–14.

26. Male and female are empirical categories because there are objective criteria
for their application. Yin and yang are not. Female, dark, cool, wet, old are all yin cat-
egories, but do not have physically demonstrable properties in common.
27. Keightley 1985: 33–35.
30
generally. While it was generally assumed that there were no more sages
during historical times—even Confucius refused to claim this status for
himself—the concept was used to describe the ideal human, usually a
ruler. Sagehood involved recognition of incipience—patterns of events
at their earliest stage of manifestations, permitting intervention at the
most favorable time. When a sage ruled, society was in order without
the need for active intervention. Because the sage behaved correctly—
that is, in accord with the Dao, or will of heaven—society was in order.
As expressed by Confucius:
Of those who ruled through inaction, surely Shun was

one. . . . Dedicating himself to courtesy, he faced directly south,
that was all.28
Though recognition of the patterns underlying events was a special abil-

ity, sages were not described, in contrast to shamans, as entering an
altered state of consciousness, at least not in Confucian writings. They
are sometimes depicted with supernatural powers, but in general it is
their ethical and practical wisdom that is emphasized. Altered states,
however, are commonly described in Daoist texts.
Tradition states that sages utilized the Yijing or, alternatively, that
they created it but did not need to consult it, since they could directly
perceive cosmic patterns not apparent to ordinary humans. In this view,
although the ancient sages could understand the diagrams directly,
they created the accompanying texts for ordinary people, who could
not. Both traditions are represented in the Dazhuan:
The Master [Confucius] said: “The Changes, how perfect it is! It

was by means of the Changes that the sages exalted their virtues
and broadened their undertakings.”29
But, alternatively the sages created the diagrams:
28. Lunyu 15: 5; Watson 2007: 106.

29. Dazhuan I.7; Lynn 1994: 56.
31
The sages set down the hexagrams and observed the

images. . . . They appended phrases to the lines in order to clarify
whether they signify good fortune and misfortune. . . . 30
So close was the connection of the Yijing with mythical ancient sages
that the book was often written about almost as if it were a living
being. To use the classic was to come as close as possible to actual
contact with the sages. Given that the Yijing was the summa of sagely
wisdom, it followed that it would provide the best possible guidance
to those virtuous and learned enough to understand it. To make effec-
tive use of it, extensive self-cultivation and, above all, sincerity were
essential. Wrong answers could be excused as due to misinterpreta-
tion or lack of sincerity on the part of the inquirer. Self-cultivation
(considered in detail in c hapter 8) was intended to develop moral
qualities, not supernatural abilities. On the other hand, most literati
would have believed in much of what we now consider supernatural.
Modern disavowals of supernatural aspects of divination are a form
of apologetic that would not have been thought of in premodern
China.
As today, many of those who claimed special powers were not
sages but charlatans—though some had sincere belief in their own
special abilities. The precise nature of such a special ability is left
undefined. Sarah Iles Johnston quotes Cicero in De divinatione:
I know of no people, whether they be learned and refined or bar-

baric and ignorant, that does not consider that future things are
indicated by signs and it is possible for certain people to recog-
nize these signs and predict what will happen.31
However, Cicero concludes, after a very detailed consideration, that

divination does not work:
30. Dazhuan I.2; Lynn 1994: 49.

31. Cicero, De divinatione 1.2, quoted in Johnston 2008: 3.
32
Speaking frankly, superstition, which is widespread among the

nations, has taken advantage of human weakness to cast its spell
over the mind of almost every man.32
From a scientific perspective there is no evidence for special mental

powers. The famous Society for Psychical Research, founded in Great
Britain in 1882, which has included among its members such luminar-
ies as Sigmund Freud, W. B. Yeats, Alfred Russel Wallace, William James,
and Susan Blackmore, has never been able to find convincing evidence
of such powers, though some of its members are still trying. Perhaps
the most publicized effort to demonstrate psychic ability was that of
the late J. B. Rhine (1895–1980) of Duke University. This involved using
cards with simple visual images, such as circles and triangles. His posi-
tive results have been shown to result from deliberate fakery by his sub-
jects or fallacious statistical inference.
And yet there is a sense that we sometimes know things inexpli-
cably. Seeming special powers are part of human experience and the
basis of several forms of entertainment. A cautious agnosticism about
the possibility is not unreasonable, even while maintaining skepticism
about alleged instances.
Insight into Unconscious

That the Yijing was a device for exploring one’s unconscious mind
seems to have originated with Carl Jung, who generally explained
myth and other premodern beliefs as structures within the uncon-
scious. Viewed with this perspective, the elements of divination sys-
tems—such as the Yijing hexagrams or the planets in astrology—are
representations of archetypes.33 Jung’s interpretation of the Changes,
including his famous concept of synchronicity, is considered in detail
in c hapter 10.
32. Cicero 1923: 537.

33. Jung’s notion of archetypes was exceedingly complex, but can be understood
simplistically as ideas inherent in human consciousness.
33
This characteristically modern view changes the focus of divina-

tion from obtaining knowledge about the external world to revealing
the details of the psyche. That the Yijing might be helpful in reveal-
ing a person’s unconscious thoughts is quite different and less prob-
lematic than claiming that it predicts objective events. While there
is nothing resembling the concept of the unconscious in the Zhouyi
or even the Dazhuan, at times the latter does seem to prefigure the
psychological interpretation:
It is by means of the Changes that the sages plumb the utmost

profundity and dig into the very incipience [ji] of things. It is pro-
fundity alone that thus allows one to penetrate the aspirations of
all the people in the world. . . . 34
The notion of profundity here can be seen, if one is so inclined, as

analogous to depth psychology. Certainly the Changes was consid-
ered as a means for self-cultivation, as was Jung’s analytical psychol-
ogy, though the practices themselves were quite different.
Lateral Thinking
A common modern rationale for divination is that it helps one see
possibilities one would otherwise have overlooked. This is inherent
in Jung’s view of the Changes, but does not require his theories of
archetypes and synchronicity. As expressed by Thomas Cleary, “Using
DeBono’s model of lateral thinking, it is easy to conceive of the pro-
cess of I Ching divination as a means of expanding thought or opening
up new perceptions . . . ”35
A similar justification has been advanced with reference to astrol-
ogy: “the study of astrology—even if astrology itself is not considered
objectively valid—can disclose new perspectives on this world and the
way we relate to it.36 The statement would be equally valid in speaking
34. Lynn 1994: 63.

35. Cleary 1989: 5.
36. Phillipson 2000: 9.
34
about the Yijing,” Ultimately it comes down to a matter of taste: Some

find pleasure and satisfaction in the use of such methods. Others find
them distasteful because of their aura of “superstition.” Many are
simply not interested.
This “thinking-out-of-the-box” explanation has the advantage of
avoiding the need for any depth-psychological theory. In the sense
that it interprets the Yijing as an aid to better thinking, it bears some
relation to the sage-wisdom interpretation. Undoubtedly, Chinese
literati saw consultation with the Yijing as a way to gain a fresh per-
spective on a situation. However, they would have attributed this
perspective as recovering the wisdom of antiquity, rather than as dis-
covering something new.
THE MIND OF THE DIVINER
There seems to have been little study of the phenomenology of divin-

ing, yet the mental processes involved seem curious, to say the least.
Those who perform divination do not generally give clear explana-
tions of their own inner experience and possibly do not understand
it themselves. Though some of the diviner’s pronouncements are no
doubt prompted by nothing more mysterious than shrewd obser-
vation of the inquirer, there often does seem to be a special men-
tal state involved. This is true even in rationalistic methods such as
Yijing or astrology. The special state, assuming there is one, is usu-
ally more akin to intuition than to ecstatic or drug-induced states.
It is reasonable to assume that divination works by something like
intuition, which itself is both ordinary and mysterious—ideas just
enter consciousness without any subjective sense of how or from
where they originate. Intuitions are often evoked by external, often
random, stimuli that may have no clear relation to the thoughts they
inspire. Such can arise from music or odors, for example.
With divination there is usually a physical substrate—in the
case of the Yijing, not only the physical book, but also the diagrams
and the simple devices used to select the relevant hexagram. Other
35
familiar divinatory substrates are astrological charts, tarot cards, or

(specific to China) the shi mantic board and later the luopan, or geo-
mantic compass. Ritual may help create the right state of mind. With
the Yijing this may be as simple as lighting incense and facing north,
as one would for an audience with a sage.
Another way to look at divination is that it is a means of creating
a story, or narrative. Storytelling is a fundamental human activity
that has many functions. An important one is weaving events into
a coherent pattern. As with intuitions, stories may be inspired by
external events, but much is mysteriously created by the mind. Like
divinations, stories may be true, false, or, perhaps most often, a mix-
ture of both.
When divination is simply a method for manipulation and fraud,
there is nothing particularly mysterious about it. The psychology of
deceptive use for personal gain needs no comment here. There is,
however, a different sort of reason for divination being consciously
manipulative. In modern times this is simply to please the client. In
China, when the inquirer was a king or powerful person with life-or-
death power, providing divination was a risky business. The need to
flatter the powerful must be considered when analyzing recorded epi-
sodes. A famous example, discussed in more detail in chapter 2, is the
Zuozhuan anecdote in which Lady Mu Jiang is given a pleasing, but
erroneous, prognostication.
The rich variety of possible explanations for divination, together
with its ubiquity, its exuberant diversity, and its sometimes awe-
inspiring complexity, indicate that no reductive account of divina-
tion will be sufficient to explain its hold on the human imagination.
Rather, it is best regarded as an inherent aspect of human culture—
like music, storytelling, and ritual—the history of which opens a
window into human consciousness from remote times to the present.
36
C hapter 2
Bronze Age Origins
The Zhouyi—that is, the early texts of the Yijing without the later Ten
Wings commentaries—was composed in the Chinese Bronze Age, an
era as different from our own as can be imagined. To understand this
very ancient work, it is necessarily to have some sense of life at the
time it was composed. The Yijing often is read in modern guise; but
with knowledge of its historical context, it becomes a window onto
an early stage of human society. Many of its problems were utterly
different from those of today, yet others are constants of human life.
Books were physically quite unlike the bound volumes (codices)
that are familiar to us. Indeed, we do not know with certainty in what
physical format the Zhouyi was first read. The Shiji (Records of the
Grand Historian) composed by Sima Qian 司馬遷 (circa 145/35‒86
BCE), refers to Confucius reading the Changes so often that he wore
out the leather binding straps three times. This indicates the most
common format for books in that era—vertical bamboo strips held
together by cords of leather or other materials. The earliest extant
bamboo strip manuscripts are from circa 300 BCE. but this medium
was clearly in use from much earlier times.1 (Printed books would not
exist until the Eastern Han dynasty.) Though this appealing refer-
ence to Confucius’s devotion to the Changes is now regarded as apoc-
ryphal, it does indicate that in the first century BCE ancient texts
of the Changes were assumed to be in this format. This appealing
detail of Confucius’s lifestyle first appeared five centuries after the
Master’s life and even more centuries after the Western Zhou, so it
1. Tsien 2004: 96–125.
37
is not certain evidence of the early physical format of the Changes.

Nonetheless, what was transmitted was almost certainly in this for-
mat as we have no early bone, bronze or stone inscriptions of the
Zhouyi, and other writing materials were highly perishable.2
Modern editions of the Yijing and other ancient texts are pre-
sented in kaishu, or standard script, a form of writing which did not
appear until more than a thousand years after the work was com-
posed. In the Western Zhou, the Chinese language had not been stan-
dardized; moreover, the written characters differ so much from those
in current use that they can be understood only by expert paleogra-
phers. Despite all these difficulties, the Zhouyi text has been trans-
mitted to us in what is probably quite close to its original form.
DATE AND EARLY TEXTUAL HISTORY
To understand a text—or, for that matter, any historical object,

event, or personage—we need to know as much as possible about
what else was going on in its time. While our knowledge of Western
Zhou life and society has increased considerably in recent decades,
it is still quite limited compared to what we know about subsequent
later periods, even the Eastern Zhou. Establishing the dates of texts
is particularly problematic, as the received versions of the early
texts usually were edited during the Han, and possibly later. Often
texts were modified to accord with political or ideological agendas
that did not exist at the time of their original composition. The
Zhouyi, that is the Western Zhou textual component of the Changes,
may have been relatively unscathed by this, as it is thought to have
survived the notorious book burning ordered by the Qin emperor
at the advice of his ruthless counselor, Li Si, in 213 BCE. According
to traditional accounts, only practical manuals, such as those for
divination and agriculture, were spared, and scholars caught with
2. Although printing was invented in China, this did not occur until the Song
dynasty.
38
Bronze Age Origins
the proscribed books were buried alive. With the onset of the Han
(206 BCE‒220 CE), many texts had to be reconstructed from the
memories of scholars.3 Though the authenticity of many other early
works was debated throughout later Chinese history, the genuine-
ness of the received Zhouyi text seems not to have been much ques-
tioned, though in modern times the meanings were reinterpreted
(see c hapters 5 and 9). Recently excavated texts do contain many
variants, but overall are similar in both content and literary style.
No direct evidence exists to establish the exact dating of the
Zhouyi. The earliest excavated manuscripts date from circa 300 BCE,
long after the original composition. That the text was compiled
sometime during the Western Zhou (circa 1045/6 to 771 BCE) is
undisputed. 4 What remains controversial is when during this span of
centuries the work was set into writing. Given that the text derived
from heterogeneous sources that must have been created at different
times, possibly over several centuries, it could not in its entirety have
originated at a single date.
The nature of much of the material in the Zhouyi strongly sug-
gests it was orally transmitted before being set in writing. Some
phrases echo the much earlier Shang oracle-bone inscriptions and so
probably originated before the Zhou. A few phrases also occur in the
Shijing (Book of Songs), a collection of folk-song lyrics, some of which
probably also originated before the Zhou.5 The stylistic similarity of
some oracle-bone inscriptions to phrases in excavated Warring States
3. There is some doubt about how accurate this account is. Proverbally, history is
written by the victors. Just as the Zhou demonized the Shang they deposed, so did the
Han with its predecessor, the Qin.
4. Instituts Ricci 2003: 22; Nivison 1983: 481–590.
5. Standard works on the challenges inherent in studying early Chinese texts
include Keightley 1985; Shaughnessy 1983, and Loewe 1993. More recent treat-
ments are Kern 2005, Li and Branner 2011, Nylan 1994, and Richter 2013. Two doc-
toral dissertations are essential for serious study of the Zhouyi: Shaughnessy 1983
and Kunst 1985. The field is being reshaped as study of excavated manuscripts pro-
ceeds. The important excavated manuscripts have been transcribed and translated by
Shaughnessy—the Mawangdui silk version in 1997 and the Shanghai Museum bam-
boo strips as well as other manuscripts in 2014. The extensive discussion in the later
work is indispensible for those interested in the early texts.
39
texts of circa 300 BCE demonstrates that some divinatory material

was highly conserved over the passage of centuries. Since many of
the phrases are observations characteristic of those living close to
nature in an agricultural society, they may well even antedate the
Shang, the first historical dynasty.
The belief cited by the “Grand Historian” Sima Qian that the
Zhouyi was created in “middle antiquity” by Fu Xi and ancient sages
is now recognized as mythical. With the skeptical re-examination
of traditional lore regarding classical texts, initiated by Hu Shi 胡適
(1891‒1962), a prominent figure in modern Chinese literary study,
and further reassessment with the Doubting Antiquity movement of
the early twentieth century, the dates and provenances of the classics
were reconsidered. Initially it was hypothesized that the Zhouyi texts
originated in the early Western Zhou, circa 1000 BCE. By placing the
work’s creation near the beginning of the Western Zhou, this date is
not entirely inconsistent with the traditional mythical accounts that
assigned the addition of the texts to the hexagrams by King Wen 文王
and/or the Duke of Zhou. Shaughnessy, who considers the complex
arguments for different dates in detail, first concluded that the com-
position was during the reign of King Xuan 宣王 (827/5‒782 BCE),6
but later suggested a later date around the transition from Western
to Eastern Zhou.7 Some Western scholars have hypothesized an even
earlier date.8
For most readers, what is important is not the exact date but the
fact that the Zhouyi was composed nearly three thousand years ago,
with at least some of its content being even older.9 It is remote in
time, not only from our own day, but even from the time of Confucius
(551‒470 BCE). The Master was born five centuries after the found-
ing of the Western Zhou. The literati culture associated with his
name did not yet exist in the Western Zhou, though texts from that
6. Shaughnessy 1983: 16–49.
7. Shaughnessy 1999b: 296.
8. Hacker 1993: 26–8.
9. For comparison, these are the approximate dates Western scholars assign to
the composition of the Iliad and the Odyssey.
40
Bronze Age Origins
era, including the Zhouyi, were later incorporated into the multifac-
eted ideology we refer to as “Confucianism.”10 The first extant com-
mentaries, the Ten Wings, seem to have been composed at least two
centuries after Confucius’s death, in the late Warring States or early
Han. Even farther in time from the origin of the Changes were the
two most influential commentators, Wang Bi (226‒249) and Zhu Xi
(1130‒1200), who wrote nearly one and two millennia, respectively,
after the Zhouyi was composed.
LIFE IN BRONZE AGE CHINA
Though the Zhouyi was created in the land that later became China,
use of the term “China” needs to be qualified. Until the Qin dynasty
the area that became known by that name was comprised of sev-
eral smaller states that shared cultural features, though with some
linguistic and other differences. Intermarriage was usual, at least
among the ruling class. The writing systems were similar, though
with significant regional variations. Despite their similarities, these
states were almost constantly at war with each other.
Unification came about when the Qin dynasty supplanted the
Eastern Zhou. The creation of China as an empire was the accom-
plishment of Shi Huangdi, the famous first emperor of Qin, now best
known for the terra-cotta warriors that were buried with him. It has
been suggested that the name of his dynasty, Qin, may be the origin
of the word “China.”11 The Qin created a fundamental discontinuity
in the history of early Chinese texts because of the notorious book
burning referred to above.
What we know regarding Western Zhou life comes from three
sources: archeological excavations, early texts, and later histories.
The most direct are archaeological excavations, mainly of burial sites.
10. Nylan 2001: 3 et passim.

11. The Qin marks the end of what is properly referred to as “early,” or “ancient,”
China and the beginning of the imperial period.
41
Texts, either transmitted or excavated, including bronze inscrip-

tions and some oracle bones, provide the clearest evidence of what
people of the time thought and said; however, because composed for
ritual purposes, they are highly formulaic. Histories were modified
or composed long after the events they recount. Most important is
the Records of the Grand Historian composed by Sima Qian, which
strongly influenced what literate Chinese believed about their past.12
His work is an essential source for our knowledge of early China, but
since he worked from sources now perished, accuracy is often dif-
ficult to determine. The same is true for many other premodern his-
torical works.13
Extensive excavation by Chinese archeologists beginning in the
1970s has greatly extended our knowledge of early China. While the
previously unknown manuscripts are most interesting for Chinese
intellectual history, the most striking finding of the excavations of
intact tombs has been the lavish quantity of status objects, particu-
larly bronze vessels and jade jewelry. To give but one example, the
tomb of Count Yu of the early Western Zhou contained 46 bronze
vessels and weapons, as well as 280 objects of jade and other stone.14
This sort of extravagance was common among ancient cultures,
Egypt being the most familiar example. Given the extreme amount
of labor required to craft these objects, the proportion of available
social resources allocated to their production would have been great.
Jade is extremely hard; without diamond-tipped tools, working it
would have been tedious and slow. Bronze would have been expen-
sive as well. Given the danger of working at high temperatures, part
of the social cost would have been injuries to workers.
It is apparent from archaeology that the Western Zhou was a soci-
ety in which wealth was highly concentrated, far more so than today,
12. An excellent introduction to Sima Qian and his influential outlook on Chinese
history is Durrant (1995).
13. This is equally a problem with early Western histories, such as those of
Herodotus, Manetho, and Josephus, as well as later works.
14. http://depts.washington.edu/chinaciv/archae/tcoumain.htm (accessed
10/23/13).
42
Bronze Age Origins
with a tiny percentage of the population benefiting from the labors

of the rest.15 The common people, as continues to be true in parts of
rural Asia today, would have had few possessions, mostly household
necessities like cooking pots. Agricultural labor was back-breaking.
Public construction projects often utilized slave and convict labor as
well as corvée, in which the common people had to work for their rul-
ers for part of each year. While there is little record of daily life, care-
ful study of oracle bones16 and bronze inscriptions17 does shed some
light on early Chinese society, though it is not until the Warring
States that we begin to get a detailed picture.
Women of wealthy families also were buried with status objects.18
For instance, Lady Dai of the Mawangdui tomb had over two hundred
jade bracelets. Compared to their husbands, however, elite women
had less elaborate tombs and fewer status objects. As polygamy was
prevalent, as it has been in China even into the twentieth century,
more than one wife might be buried with their husband. “Following
in death”—that is, the practice of burying widows and servants with
the king or lord, presumably sometimes when they were still alive,
was practiced in very early times. The common people were buried
in the ground or in plain wooden coffins, sometimes with a few per-
sonal objects.
For reasons never determined, there are far fewer remains of
women than men in early Chinese burial sites.19 In very early times
15. Wealth is highly concentrated in the modern world as well, with the differ-
ence being that there is a large middle class that can afford good housing and plentiful
possessions.
16. Keightley 2012 gives a detailed account of the lives of workers based on the
oracle-bone inscriptions.
17. Use of bronze inscriptions as historical records is the subject of Shaughnessy
1991.
18. So many of these jade and bronze burial artifacts have been found that they
fill the galleries of many of the world’s museums. Though the scale is much reduced,
lavish funerals are still common among affluent families in Hong Kong and Taiwan,
though expensive burial objects have been prudently replaced by paper offerings, pre-
sumably equally acceptable to the dead. A detailed monograph is by Janet Lee Scott
(2007).
19. Keightley 1999: 1–63.
43
women were buried with their birth family rather than with their
husband. This practice suggests that many women continued to feel
a closer emotional attachment to their parents and other relatives
than to their marital family, not entirely surprising when marriages
were usually arranged.
Until late in the Spring and Autumn, cash was little used and taxes
were in the form of rice, grain, or corvée labor. Marketplace trans-
actions were by barter, and salaries of officials were paid in grain.20
Medicine was mostly shamanic, with disease causation attributed
to spiteful ancestors or other supernatural beings. Military ethics
mandated that wounded soldiers be attended to, but most would
nonetheless have died agonizing deaths. Being almost constant, war
would have been a significant cause of early mortality of males, prob-
ably leading to a shortage of potential husbands, possibly a factor in
polygamy.
Children were valued for their labor and as support when their
parents were too old to work. Maternal death in childbirth was com-
mon, and only about half of newborns survived to adulthood, mak-
ing fertility a life-or-death issue for families. Whether to raise a baby
rather than to let it die of exposure was a conscious decision. Girls, or
those with physical anomalies, were less likely to be kept. Providing
food for a child who would need a dowry, or who would be unable
to work, would be an economic impossibility for some poor families.
Only sons were qualified to make the ritual offerings necessary for
the well-being of deceased ancestors—an essential component of the
filial piety central to Chinese society. Sons with physical deformities
were not eligible to make the offerings. Thus both poverty and social
convention added to the harshness of life.
And yet, as expressed in some of the poetry of the Shijing, life
was not without pleasures, such as music, dancing, and feasting.21
Civilization progressively advanced. Bronze casting reached a degree
20. Hsu 1965: 12f.

21. The Shijing (Book of Songs) compiled in the early Western Zhou and translated
by Arthur Waley (1937) provides many glimpses of daily life in early China.
44
Bronze Age Origins
of technical perfection and aesthetic excellence that has never

been equaled. Intellectual speculation and philosophy arose by the
Spring and Autumn and became major activities of the literati. Much
thought was given to proper government, though practice, as always,
usually did not fully conform to the ideal.
DIVINATION AND REGUL ATION OF DAILY LIFE
At least for the elite, life was highly ritualized. Divination was a
state affair and as ubiquitous as government committees today.
Consultation with ancestors by tortoise and milfoil (yarrow) was
obligatory before all important state activities, including going
into battle. It was the ruler’s personal virtue and adherence to rit-
ual requirements, including divination, that were thought to bring
well-being to the people at large.22 Though there were public works,
such as water management to reduce flooding, modern concepts of
social welfare did not exist. Nor were there conscious social or envi-
ronmental policies in the modern sense.
Complex rules prescribed what clothes were suitable for each sea-
son, what rooms were to be used for each, even the proper sauce for
each dish, as well as innumerable other minor details of daily life.23
These rules often seem impossibly elaborate; actual conduct would
often have fallen short of the ideal.
Confucius frequently expressed admiration for the ancients,
particularly their exemplary fidelity to the rites. Most ethical writ-
ings devoted more attention to ritual requirements than to morality.
22. Regarding imperial virtue, Confucian advisors frequently attributed natural

disasters such as floods to the emperor’s excessive sexual activity and recommended
continence as the solution.
23. The Zhou rules were in the Li Ji, usually translated as the Book of Rites, but a
more descriptive title would be Book of Propriety. English versions are not very satis-
factory, but Nylan 2001: 168–201 provides a useful overview. Similar compilations of
rules regulating the minutiae of daily life are found in the later Lu Buwei Spring and
Autumn (Knoblock and Riegel 2001) and the Huainanzi (Master of Huainan) (Major
et al. 2010).
45
From a modern perspective it is tempting to conclude that the time

and resources devoted to ritual would be better spent on social wel-
fare. Yet among the benefits of ritual activity were community soli-
darity and government employment as many officials were appointed
to oversee these events.
While the Zhouyi does not provide systematic rules for conduct, it
does assume that human actions should accord with propriety and be
appropriate for the specific time they are performed. An alternative
tradition that first appears in the early Daoist classics, the Daodejing
and the Zhuangzi, belittles rule-making, proposing that self-cultiva-
tion is more effective than elaborate laws for ensuring harmony with
the Dao, the pattern of the cosmos. The Yijing, especially with the
philosophical perspective of the Dazhuan is equally compatible with
the strain of Chinese thought that emphasizes rules and ritual and
with the strain that prefers a natural, intuitive mode of behavior.
These two modes of thought, though often contrasted as Confucian
and Daoist, respectively, in actuality are intertwined.24
Inherent in the Changes is the importance of ensuring that an
action is carried out at the appropriate or propitious time. Chinese
divination systems assume that each interval of time has its own
character.25 More is involved than prudent timing. This is an aspect
of correlative cosmology, pervasive in ancient times, which assumes
that the structure of the cosmos is similar at all levels. A common
phrase for this in western correlative metaphysics is, “As above, so
below.” This works in both directions. Just as humans embody the
patterns of the cosmos, so the macrocosm also has human character-
istics. The qualitative pattern of time is modeled on the experience
of biological rhythms, which determine when we eat, work, sleep,
plant seeds, harvest, etc.26 These, in turn, are determined by cosmic
24. Confucianism and Daoism did not exist as such when the Zhouyi was com-
posed, though they did by the time of the Ten Wings. Sometimes it is asserted that the
Yijing is Daoist or Confucian, though it was not exclusive to either school. The prob-
lematic nature of this distinction is pointed out in Sivin 1978: 303–330.
25. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: lv.
26. Progressively more elaborate methods developed for determining favorable
times (hemerology) and continue to be used by contemporary Chinese. These methods
46
Bronze Age Origins
rhythms such as day and night and the seasons. In ancient times, it
was assumed by analogy that there were hidden patterns in the uni-
verse that determine human well- or ill-being and that these can be
discovered by divination.
SACRIFICE AND WARFARE
A much quoted phrase from Duke Cheng (576 BCE) states that “the
great affairs of the state are sacrifice and warfare.”27 Both of these
activities are prominent in the historical record of early China.
Determining the exact form of sacrifice that would please deceased
ancestors was the predominant concern of oracle-bone divination.
Sacrifice is also frequently mentioned in the Zhouyi, though the prac-
tice is rarely described in the later received tradition, which tend to
pass over unsavory practices. Similarly, most English translations
such as those of Wilhelm-Baynes and Lynn generally avoid referring
to sacrifice. Those versions intended to recreate the early meanings,
such as those of Kunst and Rutt, restore these references.
Warfare was frequent, not only with external enemies but
between internal factions contending for power. The fate of con-
quered peoples was grim. A major motivation for waging war was
obtaining captives for human sacrifice. Those not sacrificed were
likely to be enslaved. Human sacrifice seems to have been pervasive
in the Shang and earlier. While later Chinese tradition claimed that
this cruel practice ended with the ascendency of the supposedly vir-
tuous Zhou, archeological evidence indicates it continued well into
that dynasty, though to a lesser degree. There are direct references to
it in the Zhouyi.28 Human sacrifice was justified by the belief that it
utilize Yijing imagery, but are complex and require considerable knowledge of their
specialized Chinese technical language, which is probably why they have little follow-
ing in the West. English-language manuals are available however, such as Koh 2005
and Yap 2008.
27. Legge 1970: 81; quoted in Yates 2005: 19.
28. Historians tend to avoid discussing this exceedingly disturbing practice,
but it is perhaps better to face this peculiar propensity of Homo sapiens (Bremmer
47
would benefit society by pleasing supernatural beings, but mass kill-

ings, such as the inquisition or the holocaust, are always excused by
such pseudo-rationales. It is likely that, as now, many were appalled
by these cruelties; but explicit condemnation, indeed any mention
at all, is scarce in early ethical texts. Confucius himself spoke often
of the rites, but skipped over the details. These omissions suggest
discomfort with the practice, but an unwillingness to confront it
directly. Still, even its omission indicates an advance in moral con-
sciousness, compared to the Shang and Western Zhou.
Animal sacrifice was more common and persisted longer than
human; the former is still practiced in Taiwan, though to a very lim-
ited degree, and remains frequent in some tribal cultures. Blood sacri-
fice was considered essential for important occasions. Though carried
out in sacred locations, sacrifice was a messy business, with celebrants
smearing the blood on ritual objects and even themselves. Indeed, in an
instance referred to by Mencius, a treaty was considered invalid because
in its ritual affirmation no animals were killed and there was no smear-
ing of blood.29
Punishments for those convicted of crimes were harsh, usually
mutilation or death by torture, although those who could afford it
might avoid these by payment. Severity was progressively greater for
those in lower social strata. Not only the supposedly guilty party, but
also relatives might be executed or imprisoned when the crime was
severe enough or the authorities were sufficiently displeased. An early
source for Chinese attitudes toward punishment is “The Prince [or
Marquis] of Lu upon Punishments,” a section of the Shangshu, or Book
2007: 237–257). This repellent practice was not confined to “exotic” cultures, but also
existed in the West, being mentioned in ancient Greek writing—Polyxena in tragedies
by Sophocles and Euripides, and Iphigenia in the Iliad—and was prevalent in ancient
Rome in the form of the Coliseum “games.” It has been pointed out that the burning of
witches and heretics in the Inquisition was also a form of human sacrifice, as were the
twentieth-century mass killings ordered by Hitler, Stalin, Mao Zedong, and, unfortu-
nately, numerous other despots. Some regard capital punishment as a survival of this
abhorrent practice.
29. Pines 2002: 51–52.
48
Bronze Age Origins
of Documents.30 The work shows some awareness that restraint is appro-

priate in inflicting punishments; however, given that the five punish-
ments were tattooing the face, cutting off the nose, amputating one or
both feet, castration, and death, often by grotesque means, even the
mildest would be devastating. In doubtful cases the punishment was
to be lowered by one degree, for example, from castration to cutting
off the feet. A different set of penalties existed for women, including
beating and “permission” to commit suicide. The latter is presumably
because of the inflammatory effect of public infliction of bodily harm
upon women.
There was awareness that judges should be disinterested, as they
are warned not to be influenced by power, private grudge, “female
solicitation,” or by bribes.31 The “Prince of Lu” work concludes by stat-
ing, “I think with reverence of the subject of punishment, for the end
of it is to promote virtue.”32 In the Western Zhou, punishment was
socially expedient; there is no evidence that any real concept of jus-
tice had been articulated. Laws mandated more severe punishments
for those of lower social class.
SOCIAL MOBILITY AND THE BEGINNINGS OF

CHINESE PHILOSOPHY
Western Zhou society was hierarchical, with family relationships

being all-important determinants of a person’s life situation.
Extended families functioned as clans with their origin often attrib-
uted to deified ancestors. Government positions were filled with
members of the lord’s or king’s family. Though the term “dysfunc-
tional” had not yet been invented, within families power struggles,
30. This is available in various reprints of Legge 1865: 588–612 and online at
http://ctext.org/shang-shu/marquis-of-lu-on-punishments (accessed 4/15/14).
31. Legge 1865: 607.
32. Legge 1865: 609.
49
treachery, even murder were common, many examples are expounded

in the Zuozhuan.
Presumably use of the Zhouyi as a text was confined to the elite
who, even if not fully literate, would have professional diviners in
their service. Ordinary people must have employed divination also,
possibly with Changes-like systems in oral form. As Arthur Waley
points out, many of the phrases in the Zhouyi seem to be folk omens.
Such might have been familiar to people at all levels of society, as
with proverbs in the West.33
The power of the old noble families waned during the Eastern
Zhou. Since China, unlike India, did not have a system of fixed
castes, social mobility gradually improved. One of the most signifi-
cant social changes as the Zhou progressed was the rise of the shi 士
class. This social rank has no precise modern equivalent. Sometimes
it is rendered as “knight” in English, but “gentry” is closer. Although
it can mean “soldier,” shi also referred to the modestly well-off and to
the classically educated (wen shi 文士) or technically skilled. While
Chinese society remained hierarchical in both social structure and
ideology, it was possible for some to rise in the hierarchy by their
expertise, their connections to the powerful, or both. Generally shi
looked toward official appointments as the means of improving their
situation. Confucius himself was a shi, but was famously unsuccessful
in seeking office, though by his time, the shi class had already become
the main source of administrators. The eventual predominance of shi
in official positions has been attributed to the need for experts to
manage an increasingly complex society.
It is plausible that this increasing mobility and literacy created
the audience for divination methods less expensive than oracle
bones, which required the capture of tortoises and special processing
of their shells, or the slaughter of an ox to obtain the scapula. Yarrow
would have been cheaper—as well as much more convenient. One of
the characteristics of the Changes not always remarked upon is that it
can be applied not only to affairs of government, but also to personal
33. Hsu 1965: 34–37.
50
Bronze Age Origins
ones. Phrases such as “favorable (or not) to meet the great person”
can equally be applied to private life as to public meetings with
officials. Those having ambitions of rising in society, as did the shi,
would have needed practical guidance on how to conduct themselves
in situations for which their upbringing had not prepared them.
For guidance on how and when to act, the Changes could be easily
consulted. For the literati, it accorded with their social rank, while
consultation with shamans, did not, though often resorted to none-
theless.34 The prognostications provided by the Changes were consis-
tent with literati values, at least as it came to be read. It provided
not fatalistic declarations, but prognostications that could stimulate
thought and could nearly always be interpreted as ultimately posi-
tive. Conveniently, the Changes assumed that one could do the right
thing and still benefit personally.
Thus rise of the shi class, whose members achieved success by
education and expertise, brought with it this rise in importance of
the written classics, including the Changes. For those who were edu-
cated, but not necessarily wealthy, that is who would now be consid-
ered part of the “middle class,” the Changes was ideal. It was rooted
in the classical tradition and presumed to teach Confucian values, it
required literacy, and it could be carried out by individuals privately.
Other sorts of oracles were consulted by the literati, but the Changes
was the most authoritative.
ORIGINS OF THE ZHOUYI: MYTH AND HISTORY
According to legend, what ultimately became the Yijing was created

in several stages by four sages or culture heroes: Fu Xi, who invented
the eight trigrams and by some accounts also the sixty-four hexa-
grams; King Wen, who authored the explanations of hexagrams, or
34. Shamans were at times employed by kings or emperors and at other times
suppressed. Particularly in later China, Confucians were opposed to shamans, though
some consulted them surreptitiously.
51
the “judgment texts”; the Duke of Zhou, who wrote the line texts;
and Confucius, who collected (or wrote) the commentaries. Some
explanation of the nature of these eminent personages is in order.
Sages and Culture Heroes

In Chinese tradition, a sage is a person of extraordinary wisdom
who so well understands the nature of the cosmos as to anticipate
events and thus ensure good outcomes, even without the need to act.
A paradigmatic example given by Confucius in the Analects is Shun, a
mythical early ruler of whom the Master said:
Of those who ruled through inaction, Shun was surely

one. . . . Dedicating himself to courtesy, he faced directly south,
that was all.35
The correct position for a ruler is facing south. By thus observing

ritual propriety, Shun accorded with the cosmic order, ensuring that
society was in order. The essential trait of the sage is to know exactly
what action is appropriate at a particular time. This is a special ability,
not simply knowledge of abstract principles that can be mechanically
applied. Confucius said of himself:
I have no special knowledge. But if an uneducated fellow comes

to me with a question, I attack it . . . until I’ve exhausted it.36
Implicit in this is the notion that wisdom is not simply knowing a set
of rules in advance, but an ability to think through what to do as new
situations arise. The sages created the Changes, not as a list of guide-
lines, but as a system to aid one in thinking through how to act.37
35. Analects 15.5; Watson 2007: 106.

36. Analects 9.8; Watson 2007: 61.
37. People of all cultures are concerned to make decisions that are right for the
moment of time, but the Chinese made this a philosophical, as well as practical, con-
cern. This is the subject of a monograph by Jullien 1995.
52
Bronze Age Origins
Sagely wisdom was not only theoretical but also concerned the
practical aspects of governing. Many philosophical writers would
refer to the way of the ancient sages as a way to validate their views.
There are many such references to sagehood in the Dazhuan, the
“Great Commentary” to the Yijing.38 Unfortunately, as Confucius said
of his own time, the way of the ancients had been lost and so sages no
longer appeared. Even Confucius denied that he was one.
Sages were conceived as human beings with extraordinary abili-
ties, not as gods; but some of their attributes seem supernatural to
us. In China, as in other traditional cultures, there was no sharp line
between natural and supernatural, nor between myth and history.
This does not mean that everyone was equally credulous regarding
supernatural claims. The philosopher Xunzi 荀子 (circa 310‒210
BCE) was an early skeptic, declaring that events in heaven, such as
eclipses, are not caused by human action and that rain rituals do
not actually cause rain.39 Most likely there were other skeptics, but
they may have been silent regarding their dissent from orthodoxy.
Perhaps in response to an undertone of skepticism, interpretation
of the Changes came to avoid explicit reference to the supernatural.
The classic was assumed to work because the ancient sages put their
knowledge of the patterns of heaven and earth into it; there was no
need for further speculation as to why it worked. Sages might be
referred to as already knowing what was in the Changes, or as gaining
their wisdom from the Changes. Either way: “It is by means of the
Changes that the sages plumb the utmost profundity and dig into the
very incipience [ji] of things.”40
A related concept is the culture hero, one who made significant
contributions to the early development of civilization. Thus, in the
Dazhuan, Fu Xi is explicitly credited with the trigram system of the
Changes, but often also credited with the sixty-four hexagrams—as
well as nets for catching fish and animals, based on the trigram (or
38. Lynn 1994: 49–53 et passim.

39. Goldin 1999: 47.
40. Dazhuan I.10; Lynn 1994: 56.
53
hexagram) Li. A well-known section of the Dazhuan lists other sage

inventors who were supposedly inspired by the hexagrams, including
Shen Nong 神農 with the plow and, collectively, the Yellow Emperor,
Yao, and Shun with boats and paddles. Domestication of animals was
also supposedly based on a hexagram.41 Other sages or culture heroes
invented gates, bows and arrows, ridgepoles and rafters, and coffins.
These inventors were conceived of as human, though with special
abilities.
The Legendary Fu Xi
Fu Xi 伏羲 is a complex figure in Chinese mythology. In the lore of
the Changes, he was a very ancient ruler who discovered, or invented,
the linear diagrams.42 In later visual material, he is a wise old man
clad in an animal skin. According to the Dazhuan:
When in ancient times Lord Bao Xi [Fu Xi] ruled the world . . . he
looked upward and observed the images in heaven and looked
downward and observed the models that the earth provided. He
observed the patterns on birds and beasts and what was suitable
for the land. . . . He thereupon made the eight trigrams in order
to become thoroughly conversant with the numinous and bright
and to classify the myriad things. . . . 43
This passage was echoed recurrently in Chinese literature until the

present. It presents the trigrams—and thus, by extension, the hexa-
grams—as derived from direct observation of nature, reversing
what must have been the actual process in which the figures were
abstractions that were then applied to natural and human phenom-
ena. The culture heroes referred to after Fu Xi made inventions based
41. Dazhuan II.2; Lynn 1994: 77–79.

42. His traditional dates in the Chinese calendar are equivalent to 2852 to 2737
BCE. See Yan 2012: 6.
43. Dazhuan II.2; Lynn 1994: 77.
54
Bronze Age Origins
on hexagrams, but nothing is said regarding when, or by whom, two

trigrams were combined to make the hexagrams. Variant forms of
the mythology attributed this to Fu Xi or to King Wen, who, alterna-
tively, created the judgment (hexagram) texts but not the hexagrams
themselves.44
While simply finding patterns in nature does not necessarily
imply anything magical, other versions of this myth did involve mag-
ical events. The most common relates that Fu Xi saw an animal in
the Yellow River bearing the Hetu 河圖 (Yellow River) diagram. The
animal is sometimes a tortoise and other times a “dragon horse.” The
tortoise has a pattern on its back, usually the Hetu diagram in the
form of dots, less often the bagua 八卦 (eight trigrams). The dragon
horse had the numbers from 1 to 10 on its back and in its footprints
appeared the bagua. These numerical diagrams somehow inspired Fu
Xi to devise the trigrams and possibly the hexagrams as well. In other
versions, the culture hero is not Fu Xi, but Yu the Great, the mythical
inventor of flood control and founder of the Xia dynasty.45 There are
many minor variants of these myths, but they are not documented
prior to the Song (960‒1279), though possibly of Han origin. The
Zhouyi itself says nothing about its own origin.
The Hetu as well as the Luoshu diagram became very important
in Chinese numerological metaphysics and were alluded to in the
Analects.46 The Hetu is a cross-shaped diagram containing the num-
bers 1 through 10 represented as black or white dots. The numero-
logical chapter of the Dazhuan also uses the numbers 1 through 10:
44. For a summary of these confusingly contradictory forms of the myths of the
origins of trigrams and hexagrams, see Rutt 1996: 28f
45. Berglund 1990: 56.
46. Analects 9:9. Watson 2007: 61. The best discussion of these mysterious dia-
grams from a sinological perspective is that of Nielsen 2003: 103–105, 169–171,
236f. Swetz 2008: 9f. et passim summarizes the associated myths and also mathe-
matical aspects. The detailed monograph of Berglund 1990 addresses iconographical
and cultural associations, while Sherrill and Chu 1977 covers the diagrams from the
practitioner’s viewpoint. Because numerology appeals to a certain sort of intellectual
eccentricity, much of what has been written on the subject is not historically sound.
55
Heaven is one, and Earth is two; Heaven is three, and Earth is

four; Heaven is five, and Earth is six; Heaven is seven, and Earth
is eight; Heaven is nine, and Earth is ten.47
This is simply a long way of stating the heaven is associated with odd
numbers and earth with even ones, consistent with the line-type num-
bering in which yang is 7 and 9, and yin 6 and 8. The Hetu diagram
was also correlated with the five phases (wu xing 五行). The Luoshu is
a magic square of order three. It is usually arranged as a box divided
into nine squares, something like that for tic-tac-toe. The numbers 1
through 9 are so arranged that all rows add up to 15. The original dia-
grams consisted of dark or light dots connected by lines.
These numerical diagrams were associated with the Changes in
Chinese metaphysics, but the connection is rather tenuous, the result
of the desire to integrate distinct metaphysical conceptions. The tri-
grams and hexagrams long antedated the Hetu; its role in their origin
is entirely mythical, a product of the syncretic tendency of correlative
metaphysics. Except for the one phrase of the Dazhuan, quoted above,
any supposed relationship is tenuous at best.
The variations in the legends of Fu Xi’s creation of the trigrams
seem not to have bothered most Chinese scholars of the Changes. In all
its variants, the story of Fu Xi serves to place the Changes at the dawn
of Chinese civilization, and to emphasize its fundamental importance
by crediting it with inspiring the invention of the plow, boats, and
other essentials of civilization. It also serves to link the human mind by
means of the trigrams and hexagrams with the patterns of the natural
and social worlds. The Changes is thus made to respond to the human
spiritual need for meaning.
Fu Xi had another, quite different and much reproduced iconog-
raphy in which he is depicted with human torso and snake-like lower
body, intertwined with the similarly shaped body of his sister and
consort, Nuwa. Sometimes, like Adam and Eve, they are the primeval
parents.48 Fu Xi and Nuwa seem not to have been connected with each
47. Lynn 1994: 60.

48. Yang and An 2005: 118–124.
56
Bronze Age Origins
other until the Han.49 The iconography of Fu Xi intertwined with Nuwa

came to be associated with yin and yang, but not with the origin of the
Book of Changes, with which it has no evident connection.
The term “culture hero” usually refers to mythical figures but can
also be applied to historical figures around whom myths accumulated.
The addition of texts to the hexagrams was supposedly accomplished
by King Wen, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius. That these individu-
als existed is undoubted; however, as will be discussed shortly, much
attributed to them in Chinese tradition, including their roles in creation
of the Yijing, is myth.
King Wen and the Duke of Zhou: The

Shang-Zhou Transition in Myth and History
The conquest by the Zhou of the last king of the Shang dynasty in circa
1045 BCE was a pivotal event in traditional China’s understanding of
its history.50 It served as the paradigm for establishing the legitimacy
of a new dynasty and provided exemplars of virtuous rule. The mythic
narrative is complex in its details, but embodies a simple moral theme:
the replacement of an evil government by a virtuous one.
An important source for the traditional history, though of much
later date than the events it recounts is the “Great Declaration,” sec-
tions I‒III of the Shangshu, or Book of Historical Documents.51 There
are four key elements in this story: the cruelty of the degenerate last
king of the Shang, Zhou Xin; the resistance of the virtuous King Wen
of Zhou: the conquest of Shang by Wen’s son, King Wu; and the vir-
tue of the Duke of Zhou, who as regent unselfishly refrained from
usurping the throne from his nephew, King Wu’s infant son, King
Cheng.52
49. Schipper et al. 2011: 242–244.

50. Nivison 1983: 481–590.
51. See Legge 1865: 282–99 and http://ctext.org/shang-shu/great-declaration-i
(accessed 4/15/14).
52. These names and relationships can be confusing. The name “Zhou” of the last
Shang king is a different graph, 紂, than that of the Zhou dynasty, 周. For clarity he
57
Most famous of King Zhou Xin’s alleged cruelties was forcing

courtiers to walk along a greased pole placed over a pit of glowing
coals. When, inevitably, they fell in, he laughed boisterously as they
burned to death. Among a quite extensive repertoire of atrocities,
he was also alleged to have his servants cut open pregnant women.
Together with his licentious wife, Daji, he presided over orgies late
into the night.53
The number and variety of atrocities alleged was progressively
embellished in later writings, making their historical veracity sus-
pect.54 From the Confucian perspective, as it developed later, the last
Shang king’s sexual excesses and willingness to be led by his wife, the
wicked Daji, were also signs of his unfitness for rule. Aihe Wang sum-
marizes the allegations of King Zhou’s ritual impropriety as follows:
The Zhou blamed the last Shang king for having been disrespect-
ful to the gods and spirits and for ignoring the sacrifices, follow-
ing the advice of women, rejecting men from his own clan, using
criminals . . . and indulging in drinking alcohol. The Zhou justi-
fied their military action as correcting the Shang’s betrayal of its
own tradition. There has been an increasing consensus among
modern scholars that the late Shang did deviate from its ear-
lier religious norms—including replacing some divination with
highly formulated rituals, abolishing sacrifices to the high god
and natural powers . . . 55
is here referred by his complete name, King Zhou Xin, 紂辛. “King Wen” can be trans-
lated as the “literary king,” while “King Wu,” is the “martial king.” The Duke of Zhou
(Zhou Gong 周公 or Zhou Dan 周旦) was the brother of King Wu, whose son, King
Cheng, was thus the Duke’s nephew.
53. Chinese annals, notably the Zuozhuan, seem to relish accounts of men seduced
into evil by wicked women. Such salacious tales are found throughout the world’s lit-
erature, a notable example being Shakespeare’s Macbeth.
54. Atrocity stories have commonly been used to justify attack on the regime
supposedly committing them. At a distance of several millennia, it is impossible to
separate fact from propaganda. King Zhou Xin’s supposed many malfeasances and how
they led to his defeat by the Zhou are discussed in detail by Marshall 2001: 17–34.
55. Wang 2000: 58f.
58
Bronze Age Origins
Of interest here is that failure to divine properly was prominent in

the list of the Shang’s ritual errors. The oracle-bone evidence sug-
gests that during the Shang the function of pyromancy and yarrow
divination changed from asking for guidance to validating the auspi-
ciousness of decisions already made. The implication is that divina-
tion was no longer being performed to consult gods and ancestors
and thus the king was failing to obtain spiritual guidance. Not only
was King Zhou Xin dissolute and cruel, but his failure to properly
divine showed that he neglected the king’s responsibility of harmo-
nizing his reign with the cosmic order.
According to tradition, King Wen of Zhou, the initiator of the
Zhou campaign against Shang, was a complete contrast to King
Zhou Xin. He lived simply and treated his subjects well. The Grand
Historian, Sima Qian, recounts that King Wen sighed when he heard
that King Zhou Xin had cannibalized his own virtuous advisors when
they dared to admonish him. When the evil ruler learned of Wen’s
reaction to his atrocities, he had him imprisoned.56 After seven years
Zhou Xin was prevailed upon to release Wen, but only by the induce-
ment of lavish gifts.
As word of Wen’s virtue spread he gained followers at the expense
of Zhou Xin. His power increased to the point that he was able to
initiate the Zhou campaign against Shang, but he did not live to com-
plete the conquest. This was accomplished by his son, King Wu. Upon
his defeat, King Zhou Xin committed suicide.
When King Wu died, his son was in line to succeed him as King
Cheng, but was too young to rule. The Duke of Zhou served as regent,
but according to traditional accounts reinforced King Cheng’s even-
tual accession to the throne by making ritual preparations for it.57
This selfless support of the legitimate king made the Duke of Zhou a
paragon of virtue in later Chinese historiography.
Though all these men were real historical figures, it is possible that
King Zhou Xin was not quite as evil, and the others not as virtuous,
56. Marshall 2001: 21.

57. Wang 2000: 65f.
59
as in the traditional history. Then, as now, those who held power were
quite capable of ruthlessness when it served their purposes. Also, as
now, regime change did not necessarily benefit the people at large.
Each event in the traditional account of the Shang to Zhou transi-
tion provides a moral example. The overthrow of Shang was justified
not only by the cruelty and dissoluteness of the last king, but also by
his ritual neglect. King Wen represented patience in adversity because
he did not abandon his principles, even when imprisoned. The Duke
of Zhou remained regent rather than supplanting the rightful heir to
the throne, because he put principle before the wish for power.
Alternative historical sources tell a less pleasing story. Empirically
based historical research indicates that the victory of the Zhou over
the Shang was due not to virtue but to superior military technology
and morale, hardly a surprising finding. According to the Shi fu, or
“Great Capture,” upon his victory, King Wu displayed little mercy to
the defeated Shang king’s followers:
King Wu then shot the hundred evil ministers of [Shang king] Zhou.
He beheaded . . . their sixty minor princes and great captains of the
cauldrons and beheaded their forty family heads . . . then the south-
ern gate was flanked with captives to be sacrificed, all of whom were
given sashes and clothes to wear. . . . [T]‌he great master shouldered
the white banner from which the head of Shang king Zhou was sus-
pended and the red pennant with the heads of his two consorts.58
This account, of course, radically contradicts the ideology of the vir-

tuous early Zhou. Mencius, who was aware of the text, rejected it
because of its account of the bloodthirsty nature of the Zhou victory.
Yet a later Han commentator, Wang Chong observed: “One may say
that the conquest was easy, but to say that the [Zhou] blades were not
stained with blood is an exaggeration.”59
58. Marshall 2001: 17–34.

59. These passages are quoted from Shaughnessy 1997b: 35. This article trans-
lates the “Shi fu,” or “Great Capture.” Discussing the controversies surrounding it,
Shaughnessy concludes that it was composed around the time of the actual conquest.
60
Bronze Age Origins
While the Zhouyi does not refer to this episode, its references
to human sacrifice are consistent with this sort of victory celebra-
tion. In neither the Zhouyi, nor the Shi fu, is there any expression of
remorse about human sacrifice, nor any sense that it has to be justi-
fied; sacrifices were routine after a victory. Zhou rule may well have
been less harsh than that of Shang, but probably not by much. The
carrying of the heads of Zhou Xin and his consorts is gruesome, but
had the function of proving to the people, in an era with no media,
that the Shang rulers were dead and the Zhou triumphant. It would
also have discouraged rebellion by surviving Shang supporters.
The Duke of Zhou, without taking the title of king, seems to have
been the de facto ruler. He was no less ruthless than others in high
positions—for example, executing or exiling his brothers to pro-
tect both King Cheng, the legitimate heir, and the basis of his own
authority as regent.60
Confucius
Confucius is the final figure in the mythology of the Book of Changes.
His role was said to be the compilation or editing of the Ten Wings,
the commentaries that became attached to the Zhouyi to make it the
Yijing. These are discussed in c hapter 6. Yet as early as the Song, care-
ful readers recognized that the Master could not have composed the
Ten Wings, given the marked differences in style and content. While
the Dazhuan (Great Commentary) contains some ideas that could be
considered Confucian, the literary presentation is quite unlike the
Analects.
The traditional account is a compelling story, hence its persistence

over the millennia. Critical history, however, finds no role for any of
these culture heroes. Fu Xi is obviously mythical. King Wen and the
60. Nylan 2010a: 94–128. Fratricide by kings has been common in history
because brothers would be potential rival claimants to the throne.
61
Duke of Zhou were historical personages, but they could not have
written the Zhouyi texts, and there is no evidence that they even
knew the book. While Confucius may have known of the Zhouyi, and
did revere the Duke of Zhou, there is no convincing evidence that he
actually made use of the classic. Certainly he never claimed to have
done so, nor did he ever claim to have authored or edited the Ten
Wings.
THE IDEOLOGY OF LEGITIMACY AND THE

BOOK OF CHANGES
The mythical association of the Changes with King Wen, the Duke of
Zhou, and Confucius are as important as the actual history because
these figures were integral to the ideology of the Chinese system
of government, in which an all-powerful emperor was guided by
Confucian scholar-advisors. Although the great figures of the Zhou
founding were long gone, their virtue and wisdom lived on in the
Changes. Those consulting it would often have reflected on the ide-
als of rulership they represented, even though the story was exter-
nal to the Zhouyi, which contains nothing like the narrative account
in the “Great Declaration.”61 Yet it is this genealogy, as much as any
supposed divinatory accuracy, that gave the Changes its central place
in Chinese intellectual history. Indeed, without the ideology made
concrete in the legend of the Shang–Zhou transition, China might
not have persisted as a unified country. Aihe Wang comments: “To
actually take over a political and ritual center that had lasted nearly
a millennium [the Shang] and to legitimize such a seizure . . . posed
a much greater challenge to the Zhou conquerors that the military
conquest itself.”62
61. A school of interpretation regards many passages in the Zhouyi as referring to

events in the Shang-to-Zhou transition. English translations in this mode are Marshall
2001, Moran and Yu 2002, and Whincup 1986.
62. Wang 2000: 57. Wang also provides a lucid extended discussion of the meta-
physical basis the Zhou used to legitimize its rule (57–74).
62
Bronze Age Origins
The ideology that originally developed to justify the Zhou take-

over worked so well that it remained the basis of Chinese govern-
ment legitimacy for 3,000 years. Central to this was the notion of
tian ming 天命, the mandate of heaven, which held that the right to
rule was determined by heaven, the impersonal principle of the cos-
mos. Misrule, as with the last Shang king, would lead to loss of this
mandate. With the mandate of heaven, legitimacy was based on the
fundamental order of the cosmos, rather than merely on family lin-
eage. King Wu succeeded militarily because heaven had selected him
to replace the evil King Zhou Xin.
Legitimacy was further reinforced by the king’s or emperor’s rit-
ual performance. A vast and diverse country, China could not have
been held together purely by military might. Ultimately, it was ideol-
ogy that gave China its unity and continuity.63 In writing about the
development of the later Chinese imperial system, Pines suggests
why the Chinese empire proved so durable. He writes:
[I]‌mperial hegemony was achieved neither through excessive coer-

cion nor through extensive brainwashing. . . . The empire was not
only a military and administrative but also an intellectual construct;
it was envisioned and planned long before it became a reality.64
In short, the Changes became a part of this intellectual construct—

whenever it was consulted, the virtue of the Zhou founders was
recalled. Use of the Changes was a ritual re-enactment of the legit-
imacy not only of the ruler, but of the Chinese social system. The
hexagrams were complete representations of the patterns of heaven
and earth; selection of a hexagram revealed the inquirer’s relation to
both society and the cosmos at that moment.
63. While Westerners tend to be puzzled that the PRC government remains nomi-
nally Marxist, this ideology replaces the previous mandate of heaven as the basis of
legitimacy. Chinese history suggests that loss of a unifying ideology will result in social
chaos.
64. Pines 2009: 2 (emphasis added).
63
SOCIAL CHANGE AND THE RISE OF

THE YIJING
Though a work of a much earlier stage of Chinese civilization, the

Changes came to serve a very different society with a new sort of per-
son—the Confucian literatus (ru shi 儒士 or wen ren 文人). This was
made possible by radical, if unacknowledged, changes in its meaning.
Old words developed completely new meanings and commentaries
added ethical and philosophical ideas that were not at all self-evident
in the Zhouyi itself. Moral content had already appeared by the time
of the Zuozhuan (discussed below) and the Mawangdui manuscript,
found in a tomb sealed in 168 BCE (see chapter 4). Between the
Western Zhou layers and the Yijing, with its canonical commentaries,
there is a vast gap, yet we have no direct evidence of how this mean-
ing shift occurred.
During the Spring and Autumn, the class origin of those in offi-
cial positions changed considerably.65 At the outset high positions
were filled by relatives of the ruler. Later, ministers were drawn from
aristocratic families not related to the king. Finally, as discussed
above, they were mainly drawn from the class referred to as shi 士.
Although shi was originally a derogatory label, the class came to dom-
inate China intellectually, if not fully politically. While the term has
no precise modern equivalent, it is closest to what is now the edu-
cated middle class. The shi were men (women were generally excluded
from government, though some exerted unofficial influence) whose
knowledge and skills were needed by governments as society became
more organized and complex. Confucius was a shi, educated in the
classics (though not necessarily the Changes), who spent his life
teaching disciples and seeking office. He never attained a position of
any importance, perhaps because those in authority were less desir-
ing of his moralistic admonishments than he felt they should be.66
65. Hsu 1965: 24–53 et passim.

66. For a lively treatment of Confucius’s life and personality, see Nylan and
Wilson’s 2010 biography.
64
Bronze Age Origins
Confucianism did not at first predominate as the ideology of

the educated, but came to do so by the early Han. Its root idea that
government should conduct itself based on the classics, in which the
Confucians were expert, served the self-interest of ambitious shi.
How specific texts were selected for their special status is unclear,
certainly their supposed antiquity was an essential factor in their
credibility, since those that were transmitted with the least editorial
additions—the Zhouyi, the Shijing (Book of Songs), and the Spring and
Autumn Annals—do not on the surface seem as if they would be of
much use for advising kings or emperors. They were made relevant by
the addition of new interpretations that, to a reader unfamiliar with
the exegetical tradition, seem frankly gratuitous. This transforma-
tion of the ancient texts succeeded in appropriating their prestige to
the Confucian school. Augmenting this was the mythology according
to which the great sage either wrote or edited them.67
THE JUNZI AND THE BEGINNINGS OF

ETHICAL CONSCIOUSNESS
The term junzi 君子 is one of the most prominent in the Zhouyi, one
whose change in meaning accompanied the social changes already
discussed. At first meaning “prince,” it came to mean a person whose
nobility was of character rather than birth. Unlike shi, which was a
term designating a person’s social class, junzi indicated an individual
of ethical probity.
Rather than discussing the virtues of the junzi abstractly, the
Changes tends to explain what a junzi would do in the situation
inquired about. The virtuous person is also referred to as the da ren
大人, “great” or “big person,”, in contrast to the xiao ren 小人, “petty”
or “small person,” who is selfish and often treacherous. When all is in
67. For a very complete discussion of these five fundamental texts, see Nylan
2001.
65
order, the da ren is favored, as in hexagram 11 Tai (Peace). Those

times when the xiao ren predominate, as in 12 Pi (Obstruction),
are dangerous for honest people.
The wording of the text tends to convey a flattering presump-
tion that the inquirer is a junzi, not a xiao ren. When the oracle states
that the small will predominate, it is not to encourage those of low
character but to warn the da ren. Indeed it was part of the culture of
the Changes that it would not give correct advice to those who were
unworthy. The classic had to be approached in the proper reverent
state of mind. Thus the junzi was distinguished not only by actions
but by rectitude in thought. As Confucius summarized:
The gentleman [junzi] has three things he stands in awe of. He

stands in awe of the Mandate of Heaven, of persons in high posi-
tions, and of the words of the sages. The petty man [xiao ren],
failing to understand the Mandate of Heaven, does not view it
with awe.68
Attitudes rather than behaviors are emphasized, because with the

proper attitude, a person will behave correctly. A completely virtuous
mind was not innate, at least for the non-sage, but required strenu-
ous effort at self-cultivation. It included ability to recognize what is
truly important. Thus, as stated in the Analects: “The gentleman is
an expert in important matters; the petty man, an expert in trivial
ones.”69 This junzi / xiao ren distinction is present in the Western
Zhou texts, but does not clearly refer to virtue rather than high birth.
However, it did suggest at least the most basic ethical principle, that
some actions are good, while others are not. As Chinese ethical con-
sciousness developed, junzi came to denote a newer conception of the
ideal person, though the frequency of this term in the Zhouyi sup-
ported the pretense that Confucian ethical ideals were ancient.
68. Analects 16:8; Watson 2007: 116.

69. Analects 14:23; Watson 2007: 100.
66
Bronze Age Origins
THE ZHOUYI AND ETHICS: DIVINATION

ANECDOTES IN THE ZUOZHUAN
Though the Yijing was admired for its ethical content, when the
Western Zhou portion is read without its accretion of commentar-
ies, there is little that is morally exemplary. It was mostly about
what was expedient, rather than what was right—though there is
little indication of this most fundamental moral distinction. Later,
in the Zuozhuan, “The Several Disciples Asked” of the Mawangdui
manuscript, and in the Ten Wings, we find that the Western Zhou
texts are read as teaching ethics and cosmology. The ethical content
in these early commentaries is expressed somewhat vaguely, prob-
ably because language to express ethical ideas was still developing.
Thus morals tend to be stated, not as general principles, but as what
a moral person (junzi or da ren) would do. Some words came to be
construed as referring to virtues, notably yuan heng li zhen 元亨利貞,
but these were rather fluid as to the specific traits they referred to.
We find the beginnings of the moralistic interpretation of the
Zhouyi in the Zuozhuan 左傳 anecdotes. Ostensibly a commentary
on the Spring and Autumn Annals, the Zuozhuan records nineteen
Zhouyi divinations nominally dated between 671 and 487 BCE.70
These constitute the earliest surviving record of how the Zhouyi was
interpreted. Unfortunately, however, as the text reached its received
form much later than the events it describes, possibly as late as the
Western Han, it cannot help us to establish a reliable date for when
the Zhouyi became an ethical text.
The Zuozhuan accounts of Zhouyi divinations mostly show how
failing to heed its advice, usually moralistic, leads to disaster. What
comes across most strikingly, however, is the eternal gap between
moral principles and actual behavior. In the Zuozhuan the first four
words of the Zhouyi—yuan heng li zhen—are no longer an invocation
but terms for ideal character traits.71 Also present is the concern with
70. Rutt 1996: 173–197.

71. Rutt 1996: 187f.; Legge 1970: 437f.
67
self-examination so central to the later Confucian tradition. We find

these ethical conceptions most clearly stated in the anecdote of Lady
Mu Jiang, the grandmother of Duke Xiang of Lu. Involved with an
unsuccessful intrigue regarding succession to a dukedom, she was
placed on house arrest in the palace. The yarrow sticks were cast,
obtaining hexagram 52 Gen 艮 transforming to 17 Sui 隨 . The
second hexagram was produced by changing all lines to their oppo-
site, except for the fixed yin line at position 2.
The diviner declares that that Sui means “getting out,” meaning
that she will be released soon. Lady Mu Jing gives a reply in words
nearly identical to the introduction to the Wenyan (one of the Ten
Wings):
Sui means yuan heng li zhen: no trouble.

Yuan is the source of goodness,
heng is the sum of all excellence,
li is the harmony of all that is right:
zhen is the kingpin of activity.72
She continues:
I am a woman involved in disorder. Beyond question, I am in poor

standing. I am not benevolent, so yuan does not apply to me. I have
not stabilized the dynasty, so heng does not apply to me. I have acted
against my own good, so li does not apply to me. I have descended
to intrigue, so zhen does not apply to me. Sui means no trouble but
only for a person with these four virtues. I have none of them. How
can Sui apply to me? Since I have chosen evil, how can there be no
trouble for me. I shall surely die here. I shall not get out.73
This anecdote, brief as it is, is one of the most interesting in the

Zuozhuan. First, on the level of technical divination procedures,
72. Rutt 1996: 187, 435.

73. Rutt 1996: 187f.
68
Bronze Age Origins
it forms one of the earliest examples of a hexagram transforma-

tion. These became much more elaborate in the Han and were sub-
sequently routine in Yijing divination, yet there is no evidence for
them in the Zhouyi itself. The basis of selecting the second hexagram
described in this anecdote is not the more familiar one that was
reconstructed by Zhu Xi during the Song and has been in use since
then. The text states, “she had cast the yarrow sticks and met with
an 8 (an unchangeable broken line in Gen (Hexagram52).”74 Thus the
second hexagram, #17, Sui, was produced by changing all the lines
except the fixed second line. This contrasts with what was later the
commonest method, which usually generates fewer changing lines.
Here one line remains constant and the other five change.
It is within the realm of possibility is that a hexagram might be
deliberately selected by the diviner to generate a hexagram with a
more pleasing prognosis. However in this episode, the first hexa-
gram selected, Gen, is made of the trigram for mountain doubled,
and is usually translated as “Keeping Still,” (Wilhelm-Baynes) or
“Restraint” (Lynn), presumably not what a prisoner would want
to hear. Yet Sui, translated by Wilhelm-Baynes as “Following,” can
also mean “pursuit” and the associated line texts generally do not
seem auspicious. Thus it seems more likely that Sui was obtained by
a standard transformation and the diviner made the best of it by
stating that it means “getting out,” in the hope of pleasing his cli-
ent. Like others who served the powerful, diviners must have lived
or died by their ability to flatter. Hexagram transformations would
have given a diviner several more options; one facile with Zhouyi
divination would presumably have been able to find a pretext for
interpreting at least one as favorable. Of course another possibility
is that whoever composed this passage deliberately selected hexa-
grams to fit the moral lesson intended. While the participation of
Lady Mu Jiang in a conspiracy seems to be historical, the Zuozhuan
account may be no more than a reenactment as imagined by the
anonymous author.
74. Rutt 1996: 187.
69
The moralistic meanings Mu Jiang declares for yuan li heng zhen are
those of the opening sentences of the Wenyan.75 We do not know if they
were taken from the latter text, or if they circulated in other forms,
plausible given their somewhat aphorisitic form. While there are too
many uncertainties to speculate on whether the Ten Wings were known
in anything like their present form at the time this passage was placed
in the Zuozhuan, it does demonstrate that material incorporated into
the Wings was circulating by the time the anecdote was composed.76
It has been suggested that the real Lady Mu Jiang never spoke
these words. The question of whether the speeches in early Chinese
texts were really spoken in anything like their transmitted form can
probably never be answered with any degree of certainty.77 While one
cannot help but be curious about the real Mu Jiang, what is more
important is that this is an early description of the use of the Changes
for moral self-examination. The anecdote is also significant because it
tells us that women, at least those of the elite, could be accomplished
in interpretation of the classic. A more extensive discussion of what
the Zhouyi tells us about women’s lives in early China is provided in the
next chapter.
The Zuozhuan suggests that the Changes could be quoted to
express ethical principles. In one such anecdote, an official of the Earl
of Zheng visits Chu and reports back:
The Viscount of Chu will soon die. He pays no attention to the

right principles of government. . . . The matter is as in Zhouyi
where the line of Fu ([Hexagram 24] that changes to make Yi
(Hexagram 27) says Losing the way to return. Disaster.78
75. Rutt 1996: 187, 433–435.

76. Much opinion has been expressed regarding the meaning of these terms,
clear on the surface but rather indefinite when pondered. For detailed discussions, see
chapter 5, as well as Rutt 1996: 122–128; Shaughnessy 1983: 123–135.
77. Pines 2002 has suggested that they are close to what was actually said, while
Schaberg 2001 has taken the view that they were largely invented by the compilers of
the texts.
78. Rutt 1996: 189f. (emphasis in original).
70
Bronze Age Origins
Here Hexagrams Fu and Yi are selected from memory, without

divination, to apply to a specific situation. In this case the Changes
does clearly serve as a book of wisdom. This is apparent in the Mu
Jiang episode as well. We do not know when this sort of use of the
Changes began. All we can say is that it had been established by the
time of the Zuozhuan episodes.
That the predictions in the Zuozhuan are invariably fulfilled
has led some to conclude that they were created or edited after the
recorded events. This possibility cannot be ruled out. However the
Zhouyi texts selected do not always seem relevant to the inquiry, as is
frequently the case in actual divination, making the interpretations
seem contrived. This is consistent with the possibility that they are
records of actual hexagram selection.
It is important to consider why the Zhouyi divinations were
included. Given that these episodes, like most of those in the
Zuozhuan, recount reprehensible behavior, the Zhouyi quotations
seem clearly to be intended to support moral judgment on the con-
duct described. Usually the miscreants were told by the oracle how
they ought to behave, but they ignore the admonition. There is an
underlying moral order that the Zhouyi reveals via divination, a moral
order that is violated at one’s peril. This order is restored by the bad
end that comes to those who violate it.
Also significant is that the Zhouyi works by words, in contrast to
omens such as eclipses, indicating the power of language to express
the will of heaven. This was part of its utility for scholar-officials, as
language was the only resource available for them to influence rul-
ers. By rhetoric they sought to reduce the power inequity. Divination
could be a means by which an advisor could offer unwelcome advice—
by attributing it to the oracle rather than himself. In actual use it must
have been employed far more often to flatter rather than criticize,
correcting emperors being likely to lead to ultimate consequences.
71
C hapter 3
Women in the Yijing
In ancient China, as was generally the case in the rest of the ancient
world, most women had limited autonomy and difficult life situations.
The lot of men was better, but only somewhat. Both sexes were con-
strained by the hierarchical society in which deference and obedience
to authority were the main values and there was no concept of human
rights. Families were held accountable for crimes committed by one
member. This meant that women and children could be punished for
the misdeeds of male family members.
While the Yijing was often read as assuming that women should be
subordinate to men, as this chapter will demonstrate, this reading is not
present in explicit form in the original Western Zhou meanings. This is
not to suggest that the Zhouyi presents any notion resembling rights for
women, simply that its texts referring directly to women did not explicitly
state that they should be subordinate. When the Western Zhou portions
of the texts are examined directly, rather than through the lenses of later
commentators, one finds interesting details regarding women’s lives but
no general pattern of denigration. We cannot conclude from such limited
evidence that Western Zhou society was characterized by greater gender
equality than later China, though it raises the possibility that subordina-
tion of women was less formalized in pre-Confucian China.
The place of women in early Chinese society can only be under-
stood based on the evidence of contemporaneous documents and
archaeology.1 The accounts written in later dynasties from the Han
1. For the historical studies of early China, see Keightley 1999 and Linduff and
Yan Sun 2004.
72
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
onward, such as Sima Qian’s Records of the Grand Historian included

much supposition and myth, as well as political agendas of their own,
often not obvious to modern readers. Thus the early divinatory texts,
such as the oracle-bone inscriptions and the Zhouyi, though often frus-
tratingly laconic, are our most direct sources for an understanding of
women’s (and men’s) lot in Western Zhou society.
Chinese accounts of divination by or about women are quite limited,
yet women must have practiced it. In the words of Richard J. Smith:
[C]‌onspicuously absent . . . are women diviners. I have found only

three biographies of such individuals—all daughters or wives
or prominent scholars, and all well educated. . . . The paucity of
women diviners in . . . biographies and other Qing sources does
not mean, of course, that they were a negligible influence in tra-
ditional Chinese society. Quite the contrary, we know that they
often played significant mantic roles.2
While Smith is writing about the Qing, we have even less information
regarding divination by and for women in the Western Zhou, mainly
hints in the Zhouyi itself as recounted below. We know that shamans
(wu 巫) in early times were usually women, while later they were
more often men—another bit of suggestive evidence that women’s
lives were less restricted in early times. The oracle bones are known to
have been prepared by women, and the King Wu Ding examples indi-
cate that pyromantic divination was frequently on behalf of women,
though only those in the royal entourage. Early texts frequently
repeat the set phrase “divination by tortoise and milfoil.”3 Since the
two methods were often done together, if women’s concerns were
addressed with the far more elaborate pyromantic method, they
almost certainly would have been addressed by milfoil as well.
Women are subject to the same hopes and fears that lead men
to practice divination, with particularly intense anxiety regarding
2. Smith 1991: 261.
3. Milfoil refers to the use of the dried stems of the common yarrow plant (Achillea
millefolium) for divination, if not with the Zhouyi, then with an earlier text.
73
fertility and the health of their children; not only because of affec-
tional bonds, but because these were essential to their status within
the family. While references to women in the Zhouyi are less numer-
ous than those concerning men, there does not seem to have been
any taboo about their inclusion.4 In contrast, with the onset of
Confucianism later classical Chinese texts are peculiarly reticent
about mentioning women at all—the rigidities of propriety dictating
that they be kept not only out of sight, but even out of texts.5
As we shall see, the Zhouyi texts about women are for the most
part simply neutral references to some of their life circumstances. We
do not find proscriptive statements about restricting women’s free-
dom, as we do in Han and later commentaries. Confucianism came
to hold that women were to remain at home and not participate in
public life, but it is hard to determine when these ideas became for-
malized. Official suppression of women, like other forms of politi-
cal oppression, is almost never entirely successful. Early moralistic
texts tend to describe what the author(s) believed should be the case,
rather than how people actually lived. Despite the restrictive ortho-
doxy, women were often able to attain some degree of control over
their own lives.
In authoritarian cultures, divination can be a means to freedom
of thought because it can provide private advice outside of the intru-
sive gaze not only of government officials, but also of neighbors and
even other family members. It is likely that women had their own
private oral culture to which men were not privy.6 Most likely women
4. Archaeology is particularly useful for illuminating women’s lives in early China.

Important works include Keightley 1999 and Linduff and Yan Sun 2004.
5. In genre writing that largely ignored or transgressed Confucian propriety,
women were more frequently depicted. Recent scholarship regarding the lives of
women in China is extensive, though most has been done on later dynasties for which
much more detailed sources are available. This recent research suggests more auton-
omy on the part of women than do orthodox Confucian or neo-Confucian writings. As
an example, Ebray 1993 shows how, in the Song, restrictions on women increased in
some ways and decreased in others.
6. Interesting evidence of this, though much later, is the special women’s writ-
ing known as nushu 女書. While this was practiced only in a limited geographic area,
74
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
interpreted divination results, such as the texts of the Changes, in

ways suited to their own life issues. That women could eloquently
interpret the classic for themselves is suggested by the famous anec-
dote of Lady Mu Jiang in the Zuozhuan, discussed in chapter 2. More
significant even than what she says is that nothing in the text sug-
gests that it was unexpected that a woman would know the Changes
and be able to interpret it for herself.
YIN, YANG, AND THE FEMININE IN THE BOOK

OF CHANGES
So strongly did the Changes become associated with the concept of

yin and yang that it may come as a surprise that these concepts did
not exist in the Zhouyi, but only appeared during the late Warring
States and Early Han. The earliest surviving use of these terms in the
cosmological sense is in chapter 42 of the Daodejing:
The Dao gives birth to one;

The one gives birth to two;
The two gives birth to three;
The three give birth to the ten thousand things;
The ten thousand things carry yin and embrace yang.
They achieve harmony by embracing these forces.7
Nothing in this passage specifies that yin and yang were meant in the
sense of feminine and masculine, although given that the passage is
about creation and the birth of the ten thousand things, there is a
hint of such an implication. However, this is certainly not a comment
Jiangyong county of Hunan province, it is evidence that women had ways of thought
that they kept to themselves. See Mann 1997.
7. The translation is modified from Feng and English 2011. The Daodejing is
thought to be of Warring States, or possibly even Spring and Autumn origin, though
not necessarily in the form of the received version. For discussion of origin and dating,
see R. Cook 2012: 195‒199.
75
about female and male social roles, but rather a concept of creation
partly based on human reproduction.
The character for yin 陰 appears only once in the Zhouyi, in line 2
of hexagram 61 Zhongfu (Inner Truth). It reads:
Cranes sing out from the southern bank of the river. Their young
respond. I have a good wine container. I will share it with you.8
Pearson is surely correct here in rendering “yin” in this line as refer-

ring to the shady (southern) bank of a river. The line is clearly about
affectionate bonds—between birds and between human friends.
“Yin” is used in its original meaning of the shaded side of a geo-
graphic feature, such as a mountain or riverbank. The calling cranes
might be male or female, or both, since, as Pearson points out, they
jointly care for the young. Thus, yin here does not refer to gender but
to shade and thus, presumably, to comfort. The reference to cranes
might be simply an image from nature, as frequent in the Shijing,
(Book of Songs), or it might be an omen.9
The hexagram later most associated with femaleness was the sec-
ond, Kun 坤 as it consists of all broken or yin lines, thus represent-
ing yin in its fullest form. The title character was taken to mean “earth,”
though the usual character for this is di 地. In the Mawangdui version
this hexagram is # 33 and has a different character chuan川, translated
by Shaughnessy as “flow,” but more often meaning “river.” Water, of
course, can be a feminine symbol as can earth. In the received ver-
sion, the first hexagram, Qian乾 , is all solid lines and translated as
“heaven,” though not the usual character for heaven, which is tian.天.
It is possible that the original meanings of Qian and Kun were lost and
that they were later designated as “Heaven” and “Earth” to harmonize
with the developing cosmological readings. In the received version, the
8. Pearson 2011: 223.
9. As many other such images in the Changes, this one has attracted diverse inter-
pretations. Wilhelm summarizes as meaning that sincere words from the heart can be
heard at a great distance. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 237f. The crane has rich symbol-
ism in Chinese culture; for example, see Williams 1974: 101f.
76
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
first two hexagrams could readily be made to stand for dualities, such
as heaven-earth and yin-yang. However in the Mawangdui ordering,
this direct contrast is lost and the hexagram titles are slightly differ-
ent—Jian and Chuan. The different position in Mawangdui suggests
the possibility that the yang/yin cosmological contrast may not have
been the early intent of placing the Qian and Kun hexagrams together.
Rather they may have been adjacent simply to fit the scheme of order-
ing hexagrams by pairing those with opposite line patterns. Thus there
is no evidence to suggest that a male-female contrast was the early
intent. In one of the commentaries included in the Mawangdui manu-
script, translated by Shaughnessy as The Properties of the Changes, they
are discussed as a pair.10 Whether the compiler of this commentary
also knew the received order, or simply noticed the obvious relation
of the two diagrams can only be guessed at. It does suggest a degree of
dissociation between the specific Zhouyi version and the commentaries
appended to it.
Despite the absence of the yin-yang symbolism in the Zhouyi, it did
became of central importance later. Kun, consisting of all broken lines,
being placed after Qian, representing the male principle, and containing
a reference to a female horse easily became associated with femininity
and thus a convenient hook upon which to hang misogynistic discourse.
Since the character for yin does not appear in any of the lines of Kun, its
only reference to gender is this one regarding a female horse. There is no
indication that the mare is a symbolic reference to women, given that the
word used for female is pin 牝, referring specifically to female animals.
The Zhouyi text, moreover, gives no support for such an interpre-
tation. Here is the line in question:
元亨利牝馬之貞
The received meanings, as translated by Wilhelm and Baynes reads:
Furthering through the perseverance of a mare.
10. Shaughnessy 1996: 221. et passim.
77
The mare reference later became part of the justification for asso-
ciating this hexagram with the supposed feminine traits of being
compliant rather than active or initiating. Thus Wang Bi commented:
The horse is a creature that travels by staying down [on the

ground], but even more important we have the female of it, so it
is something that represents the acme of compliance. . . .11
This became the standard interpretation of the Kun hexagram.

The Western Zhou meaning was likely quite different:
Begin an offering, favorable if a female horse, for inquiry by

divination.
That is, for the divination to be effective, a mare should be sac-

rificed. (Reconstructions of early meanings are discussed in more
detail in chapter 5.) As clear in both the oracle bone inscriptions and
other divinatory texts, such as the Baoshan, diviners gave very spe-
cific recommendations as to the species, gender, and coloring of the
animal whose sacrifice would please the spirits.12 Thus specifying a
mare as the appropriate choice for sacrificial animal fits a common
pattern.
This interpretation is supported by close reading of the text,
坤：元亨，利馬之貞, which consists of the four characters consti-
tuting the judgment text of 1 Qian, with the intercalation of three
additional characters: 牝馬之. Since the Western Zhou meaning of
the phrase yuan heng li zhen 元亨利貞 was an incantation to begin
the divination, meaning something like, “Begin the offering, favor-
able to inquire by divination,” the association of this phrase with a
female horse makes it quite plausible that this meant that a mare was
11. Lynn 1994: 142f.

12. And not untypical example is provided in C. Cook’s Baoshan translation: “per-
formed the secondary prayer to King Zhao with a black water buffalo, making a great
minced meat soup and a food offering to it.” 2006:165.
78
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
to be the sacrificial offering to ensure a successful divination. While

uncertainties remain regarding the meanings of the Kun hexagram,
in its early Western Zhou form it was not about yin or femaleness in
general. Nor does it anywhere state that women should be compliant.
Pearson’s description of Wang Bi’s view of yin and yang in the
Changes, can serve as a summary of later Chinese thought as well:
Wang Bi wrote his commentary based on the assumption that

the paired concepts of yin and yang were gendered and existed
at the time the Book of Changes was created. . . . He assumed that
yang represented strength, goodness, and masculinity, and that
yin was associated with physical and mental weakness and with
women. Later scholars followed this reasoning.13
Regrettably, such interpretations seem have been standard in Chinese

texts until modern times. This does not mean, however, that all men
were overbearing and all women meekly submissive. As already
noted, real feelings and behavior seldom match stereotypes and tra-
ditional Chinese moralistic literature tends to present extremes.
YIN-YANG AND THE METAPHYSICS OF

WOMEN’S SUBORDINATION
There is little evidence of what might be considered philosophical

reflection in Western Zhou sources. Philosophy, so far as we can
surmise from the written record, began in the Spring and Autumn
with the Lunyu of Confucius and, possibly, the Daodejing of which
Laozi was the legendary author.14 Confucius’s teachings were primar-
ily moral rather than metaphysical, while by the time of the Laozi,
metaphysics was well developed. During the Warring States, yin and
yang became fundamental concepts of Chinese metaphysics, along
13. Pearson 2011: 19.
14. Dating of these, like other early texts, is uncertain. Although some consider
the Lunyu to have been composed after the Spring and Autumn, there is no reason to
79
with the Dao and wu xing 五行 (five phases). Yin-yang as an explana-

tory principle appealed not only to the philosophically inclined, but
pervaded Chinese thinking at all levels and indeed has now become
global.
In traditional Chinese metaphysics, yin and yang are considered
to be the dual principles underlying all phenomena. Everything is a
mixture of these; nothing we can observe is pure yin or pure yang. At
a particular time, or in a particular process, one or the other usually
predominates. While Western popular use assumes that yin and yang
are equal, this is not entirely accurate. As in Chinese metaphysics
generally, cosmology and ethics are not separate; yang sometimes has
positive moral connotations while those of yin tend to be negative.
Both participate in all levels of reality, and in this sense both are nec-
essary. Yin, however, has many unfavorable associations—not only
cold, damp, and submissive (or receptive), but also petty-minded or
scheming people and, one of the most common correlations, graves
and the realm of the dead generally. Inclusion of female with yin in
the correlative system thus had a negative implication.
As noted by Hinsch, maintaining patrilineal hierarchical author-
ity was central to Confucianism: “According to this way of thinking,
women may not have been inferior to men in a general sense, but
a wife was inferior to her husband.”15 In this connection it should
be noted that sons were inferior to fathers and penalties for their
disobedience could be severe, at least in principle. The primary con-
cern seems to have been to maintain male authority, rather than
stigmatize women as inferior, though this comes close to being a dis-
tinction without a difference. For modern readers, the emphasis on
behaving in accord with one’s position in the hierarchical system is
perhaps the least attractive aspect of Confucianism. Underlying this
doubt that most of the ideas expressed in it were actually those taught by the Master
himself. For a closely reasoned, but controversial, analysis of the composition of the
Lunyu, see Brooks and Brooks 1998. The Daodejing of Laozi is clearly later than the
Lunyu but the Daoist ideas it records that might have originated long before it was
composed.
15. Hinsch 2002: 87.
80
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
preoccupation is a profound anxiety that people will not respect their

superiors and that social disorder will result. To keep this in perspec-
tive it must be remembered that from ancient times to the present,
loss of order has always been a real possibility in China, a country
enormous in both geography and population, whose rulers struggled
to maintain control. Indeed, there were many times in Chinese his-
tory when society descended into chaos. Any disruption of hierarchy,
including reversal of the roles of men and women, was seen as dan-
gerous to both cosmic and social order.
Contemporary scholar Robin Wang suggests that it was Dong
Zhongshu (179–104 BCE) who reformulated yin-yang theory to
justify the subordination of women.16 Most likely, however, Dong
Zhongshu and Wang Bi did not create these derogatory views of
women, but rather wrote based on the (male) social beliefs of the
time. Even though women were likely regarded by men as inferior
long before the beginnings of yin-yang theory, this system made gen-
der inequality a fundamental principle by giving it a metaphysical
basis, one which the cosmic order mandated. This is vastly different
from contemporary theory, which regards social distinctions as arbi-
trary and often insidious; in traditional China they were regarded as
the basis of civilized order.17
Once the broken and solid lines of the hexagrams became defined
as yin and yang, references to gender could be found in each hexa-
gram—even Qian, because changing each line would transform it
to Kun, or pure yin, following the principle that when yang or yin
reaches its maximum it transforms into its opposite. When hexa-
grams were interpreted by means of line positions, yin and yang
lines were supposed to be in their proper positions. Yin above yang
was often unfavorable.18 That yin came to be associated with female
16. R. Wang 2012: 107–109.

17. When discrimination is based on supposed ancient tradition or religious dog-
mas, it is particularly difficult to change, as we see even in today’s world. While we
cannot admire Confucian attitudes toward “women’s place,” we can make use of them
to understand the psychology underlying them.
18. R. Wang 2012: 105 et passim.
81
subordination does not mean, however, that this notion is inherent

in the diagrams or texts of the Book of Changes. Rather, the Changes
was used as a template on which to place the values and prejudices of
the interpreter.
READING ABOUT WOMEN IN THE

WESTERN ZHOU
Read without the later yin-yang–based commentaries, most of

the Zhouyi texts are gender neutral in the sense that they could be
responses to male or female inquiries, or at least they can be read that
way. There are also references specifically to women, though these are
much less frequent than references to men. The character for woman,
nü 女, appears a total of nine times in the Zhouyi, but there are refer-
ences to women using other words. We will briefly consider several
examples that provide interesting glimpses into women’s lives in the
Western Zhou.19 While nothing suggests that the lot of women (or
men) in this remote time was an easy one, in contrast to much of the
later commentarial material, the actual references to women are not
generally derogatory.
We can begin with a passage often mistranslated as a warning
against strong-willed women. The well-known judgment text from 44
Gou 姤 (Coming to Meet) is: 女壯勿用取女. Legge translates the
line as: “a female who is bold and strong. It will not be good to marry
(such) a female.”20 Wilhelm-Baynes is comparable, “The woman is
powerful. One should not marry such a maiden.”21
Pearson in contrast translates this phrase as: “The woman is
great. Do not grab the woman,”22 suggesting that it means, “A royal
bride . . . not taken by force.” Presumably the word translated as
“grab” is qu 取, or “take.” In some regions of China, bride stealing has
19. Nu appears in 3.2, 4.3, 20.2, 28.2, 31.0, 37.0, 44.0, 53.0, and 54.6.
20. Legge 1882: 187.
21. Wilhelm-Baynes 1967: 171.
22. Pearson 2011: 176.
82
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
been practiced, in which case the woman would be literally grabbed,

although often only in ritualized fashion. However, this phrase in the
Zhouyi does not directly refer to such a practice.23 Rutt translates it
as: “Though she be healthy, do not take her to wife.”24
The differences in these translations depends on whether zhuang
壯 is translated as “forceful” in reference to personality or as “strong”
in the sense of healthy. Rutt’s translation seems simplest and closest
to the literal meaning. The advice is that the woman should not be
courted (or married) even though she is physically healthy. In an era
with no effective medical care and a female life expectancy of about
twenty-five years, health would have been of fundamental impor-
tance in choosing a wife.25
Fertility would have been essential for maintaining the family
economically, as well as genetically and spiritually. Male offspring
had spiritual significance in that only sons were qualified to perform
the rites necessary for the welfare of deceased ancestors. In this con-
text, the line means something like, “Although the woman is healthy,
she is still not suitable for a wife.” Here, as is usual in divination, the
inquirer is told not to do something, but not why it should not be
done. Divination, after all, is based on the concepts of good and bad
fortune, not cause and effect. The implication of the line seems to
be that, although the woman’s health made her seem suitable, mar-
riage to her would be inauspicious for the man inquiring. The impli-
cation of Legge and Wilhelm-Baynes that one should not marry a
strong-minded woman is not present in the Zhouyi.
In general, women—and often men—could not choose when or
whom to marry; these decisions were made by parents. However the
23. Bride kidnapping still occurs in remote areas of rural China; local govern-
ments have not always been energetic is suppressing the practice. This mode of obtain-
ing a wife reminds us that marriage in ancient times was far less about compatibility
than about childbearing and female-specific labor.
24. Rutt 1996: 267.
25. Life expectancy is not the same as longevity, the age a person can reach if not
dying prematurely of disease, accident, or warfare. Some Chinese women and men
attained advanced ages, but they were a small fraction of the population.
83
second line of hexagram 3 Zhun (Difficulty at the Beginning) sug-

gests women could sometimes exert control:
婚媾女子貞不字十年乃字.
Wilhelm-Baynes translates the line as:
He wants to woo her . . .

The maiden is chaste,
She does not pledge herself.
Ten years—then she pledges herself.26
This certainly suggests that it was possible for some women to choose
when to marry, though presumably she is expected to remain a virgin
until her marriage. Rutt translates this as meaning that the wife will
conceive, but only after ten years, taking zi 字 to mean “breed,” rather
than “word” in the sense of giving one’s word. With this reading we are
reminded that in premodern China, as in many other cultures, a woman
who did not quickly conceive after marriage was in a difficult position.
It was assumed to somehow be her fault and she was likely to be treated
harshly, notoriously by her husband’s mother. Rutt’s version would
indicate some degree of tolerance for the woman’s delayed childbear-
ing. (This line is particularly easy to interpret in a divination—it would
mean that a wished-for outcome would occur, but not for a long time.)
A particularly interesting reference to women occurs in line 3 of hexa-
gram 4 Meng (Youthful Folly): 勿用娶女見金夫不有躬无攸利.
Wilhelm-Baynes translates the line as:
Take not a maiden who, when she sees a man of bronze [or gold,
or metal],
Loses possession of herself.
Nothing furthers.27
26. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 18, slightly modified.

27. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 22.
84
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
This seems to be saying that women who visibly experience intense

sexual attraction are not suitable as wives and indicates male discom-
fort with overt female sexuality. While clearly a male point-of-view, it is
one that is not unknown in our own time. There is something more to
be noticed here, an early recognition of women as sexual beings, even
if men are told to beware of them.28 An alternative possible meaning,
given that jin 金 also means “gold,” is that this text refers to a woman
who plays up to rich men. Read either way, the phrase acknowledges
that women have desires. That a woman obsessed with a man’s wealth
may not be a good marriage partner is no less true today. Notably, this
is not a statement about all women, just about traits of some women.
The next example illustrates how later commentary finds a pre-
text for restriction of women where none existed in the Western
Zhou meanings. Line 2 of hexagram 20 Guan (Contemplation, or
Viewing) says: 窺觀利女貞. Wilhelm-Baynes translates the line as:
Contemplation through the crack of the door. Furthering for the

perseverance of a woman.29
Legge and Lynn translate similarly, as does Rutt:
Observing briefly.
Favorable for an unmarried woman.30
This text is an example of how what is likely to have been a neutral

observation about women’s lives was made proscriptive in later
28. Given the uncertainly of reproductive outcomes in premodern times, male

anxiety about paternity was particularly intense. From the perspective of evolution-
ary psychology, a man’s DNA is most likely to be transmitted if his female partners
are faithful but he is not. This has been advanced as the biological basis of the greater
social restriction of female sexual opportunity compared to males. Polygamy, widely
practiced in traditional China, at least by men who could afford it, is consistent with
this theory. Polygamy was banned by Mao Zedong in 1950; but not in the British
Crown Colony of Hong Kong until 1971.
30. Rutt 1996: 243 (emphasis in original).
85
commentaries. The Chinese text is literally, something like, “Through

a small space observing. Favorable for a young woman with persis-
tence.” This can be construed in several ways, but commentaries to
the received version interpret the statement that the woman is peep-
ing through a small space to mean that women in general have a lim-
ited view of matters and therefore belong in the home.31 The Western
Zhou text, however, says nothing like this. The reason for peeking
through a small space is most likely because women were excluded
from the main areas reserved for men, at least at times.32 However,
rather than stigmatizing women for having limited perspectives,
it suggests that—at least in regard to the situation being divined
about—it is favorable for the woman to observe what is going on. This
would have been sound advice—given the intense family intrigues
described in sources like the Zuozhuan, it would be vital at all times
to be on one’s guard. While it would be strained to interpret this line
as advocating female equality, it is not an admonition for women to
be retiring. Whether or not men of the Western Zhou believed that a
woman’s place is in the home, the Zhouyi makes no such statement.
Hexagram 54 Gui mei 歸妹 is translated by Wilhelm-Baynes
as “The Marrying Maiden.” The text of this much-studied hexagram
33
refers to some of the complexities of Chinese domestic arrange-

ments. The text is ambiguous to some degree, but clearly describes
several of the different marital arrangements to which women were
subject. The first line refers to a woman marrying as a secondary wife,
a less-desirable situation than being the first wife.34 It seems to sug-
gest that it is better to accept what is available now, rather than wait
for something better. The fourth line refers to delaying marriage until
31. Phrases to the same effect, such as the English proverb, “A woman’s place is in
the home,” have been prevalent in many other cultures, ancient and modern, though
at last fading from use.
32. At least in the Qing the women’s quarters might be provided with a peephole
for them to watch what was happening in the rest of the house. We do not know if such
a contrivance existed or would even have been needed in the Western Zhou.
33. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 209‒212.
34. “Concubine” is the usual English translation of di 娣, referring not to a mis-
tress in the Western sense, but to a secondary wife. Secondary wives had an estab-
lished status in the household but were subordinate to the principal wife.
86
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
the time is right, similar to line 2 of hexagram 3 Zhun (Difficulty at

the Beginning) discussed previously. These lines seem to be general
prognostics, though they might have been based on historical events
now forgotten. The fifth line, however, does seem to refer to a specific
historical event: 帝乙歸妹其君之袂不如其娣之袂良. Rutt’s trans-
lation is clearest:
Diyi gives his cousin in marriage.

The sleeves of the bride are not so fine
as the splendid sleeves of the concubine.35
The bride was the daughter or sister or cousin of Diyi, a Shang king.36
The bride is overshadowed at her own wedding by the more sumptu-
ously dressed king’s mistress. This would be humiliating to the bride
and a violation of propriety on the king’s part.37 Taken together,
the line texts for this hexagram refer to potential unfavorable mar-
riage circumstances that can arise for women. They refer to the dif-
ficult decision of whether to accept a proposal, or wait in the hope
of receiving a better one later, and to rivalry between the bride and
other women present. The texts shows awareness that women could
be adversely affected by circumstances beyond their control. While
no solutions are suggested, obtaining these lines during divination
would at least provide a warning.
The Zhouyi, as we have seen, also had advice for men on choice of
a marriage partner, but that advice is more direct, basically “do” or
“don’t.” While men were affected by family conflicts, they were even
worse for women because they had less freedom to leave the house-
hold and would have to contend not only with in-laws, but with other
wives, inevitably competing for the husband’s favor. While some
35. Rutt 1996: 277, 347f.

36. The exact relationship is unclear in the text.
37. Brides’ fears of being upstaged at their wedding by a better-dressed female
guest are, this text reveals, quite ancient. Women’s clothing and personal ornament
were extremely important indicators of status in traditional China, as in virtually
every other culture.
87
households no doubt enjoyed harmonious relationships, the poten-

tial for conflict was great.38
The final line of this hexagram is also of interest with
regard to attitudes toward gender. The original line is
女承筐无實，士刲羊无血，无攸利. Wilhelm-Baynes translates the
line as:
The woman holds the basket, but there are no fruits in it.
The man stabs the sheep, but no blood flows.
Nothing that acts to further.39
The empty basket suggests a barren womb and the lack of blood flow,
perhaps lack of male seed. This would suggest that if the inquiry is
about a marriage, it will be barren.40 More generally, it suggests lack,
not only of children, but of food, vitality, and ability to carry out
effective ritual. Significantly, both partners, not just the woman,
are named as responsible for the inauspicious situation. The wom-
an’s role involves food and fertility, while the man’s is to fulfill ritual
obligations.
While the Zhouyi texts discussed here provide glimpses of some
of the problems women faced regarding marriage, they do not, of
course, give a comprehensive description of marital sociology in
the Western Zhou. Despite the later repute of the Changes as com-
prising all things in heaven and earth, the Zhouyi is a collection of
fragments and does not offer comprehensive guidance on the issues,
38. Rutt 1996: 277, 347–349 interprets this text historically in the context of
one of the odes as referring to “sororal polygamy” in which sisters of the primary bride
would accompany her to the king’s household as secondary wives. This is a possible
reading of the otherwise puzzling fifth line, but does not fundamentally alter the
interpretation given above.
40. While blood in later Daoist internal alchemy refers clearly to menstrual blood,
there is no evidence for this in the Zhou. However a man stabbing can be an obvi-
ous metaphor for intercourse. Such indirect sexual imagery was common in Chinese
writing.
88
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
such as marriage, that might be divined about.41 As apparent in these

examples references specifically to women generally concern mar-
riage, while this is much less frequently the case with passages that
seem intended primarily for males. This is not surprising, given that
in most cultures, until very recently, marriage was the single greatest
variable determining women’s life conditions.42
While the Zhouyi is hardly an ancient feminist text, when referring
to women it generally describes rather than proscribes, in contrast to
the later commentaries. Whether the later interpretations represent
a hardening of attitudes or simply more complete description of atti-
tudes that were present from earlier times is difficult to determine.
Certainly the notion that women should be kept segregated seems to
have grown stronger from the Song onward. For example, women are
commonly depicted in the visual art of the Han through the Tang,
but from the Song onwards literati landscape paintings tended to
show only males, though there are conspicuous exceptions.43
Clearly some women in early China attained positions of great
influence. For example, the Zuozhuan, a collection of anecdotes
about official events during part of the Spring and Autumn period,
has many references to women. Even earlier, women’s concerns were
frequently the subject of inquiry in the King Wu Ding oracle-bone
41. Some modern interpreters have made up for this by rewriting the classic
as a guide to romance. See Karcher 2005, Legge 1882, and Ross 2011 for three such
appropriations.
42. We need only think of the novels of Jane Austen and George Eliot (the pen
name of Marian Evans) to realize how recently this has been the case in the West as
well. Modern diviners usually report that they have predominantly women clients and
that romance is the most frequent concern for which a reading is sought.
43. In art not governed by formal literati conventions, notably in woodblock illus-
trations, female figures were common. Quite explicit depictions of sexual intercourse
appeared in illustrated manuals on the “arts of the bed-chamber,” which probably
served for erotic stimulation as well as for guides of actual behavior. Many of the posi-
tions shown seem fanciful. While nothing of this sort survives from ancient times,
many of the poems in the Shijing, or Book of Songs of Songs have sexual implications,
later explained away by Confucian exegetes. Though out of date in many respects, Van
Gulik’s works (1951, 1961, 2003) are the most extensive treatises on sexuality in pre-
modern China.
89
inscriptions.44 During the same king’s reign, Lady Fu Hao, his second
wife, was the principal general of the army and seems to have been
quite successful in her campaigns. Periodically during Chinese his-
tory other women attained high military rank.45
An illustration of the influence of women—and male
resentment of it—is found in line 5 of 23 Bo (Splitting
Apart): 貫魚，以宮人寵，无不利. Wilhelm-Baynes render the line
as:
A shoal of fishes. Favor comes through the court ladies.

Everything acts to further.46
Others have translated this as meaning that favor comes to the court
ladies (or concubines).47 The former interpretation seems more con-
sistent with divinatory use. The political benefit of being favored by
women close to the seat of power is hardly unique to early China.
This line is somewhat curious, as access to the court ladies was likely
to be restricted, though perhaps less in the Western Zhou than later.
One can speculate that this line would refer to a situation where
the inquirer was a relative of the court lady—placing female rela-
tives with the king or high nobles was a usual way of attempting to
increase a family’s influence. This was true in Europe as well, though
in the medieval and later West even kings were allowed only one wife
at a time. Mistresses, however, might live openly in the palace and
consort with the ruler. (The divinatory meaning of this phrase would
presumably be broader, that success would be attained through using
connections, probably women in positions of power.)
In Wang Bi’s commentary, we find something quite different.
Referring to this line, he wrote:
44. Takashima and Serruys 2010.

45. Among many useful recent works regarding women in traditional China
are Despeux and Kohn 2003; Hinsch 2002; Keightley 1999; Linduff and Sun 2004;
Rosenlee 2006; Topley and DeBernardi 2011.
47. Lynn 283; Rutt 1996: 246, 317f.
90
WOMEN IN THE YIJING
[I]‌f one were to grant favor to the petty in such a way that it
would be strictly limited to palace ladies, no harm would be done
to the upright.48
That is to say, women belong to the class of small people (xiao ren
小人), a very unfavorable category in the Yijing. This implication is
not found in the Zhouyi, but can be read into the hexagram because it
is nearly all yin lines. Not satisfied with this gratuitously misogynis-
tic reading, Wang Bi regards “fishes” as referring to the collection of
yin lines in the hexagram: .
These examples are two of countless instances of yin lines serv-
ing as a pretext for negative remarks regarding women. In this way,
the great authority of the Book of Changes was used to support ideas
that originally had no place in it. One of the early meanings of yi 易
was “chameleon”—which may be the etymology of the word coming
to mean “change”—and the book has always been able to change to
blend in with its intellectual surroundings.
While the official Confucian attitude toward sexuality was one
of prudery and misogyny, there was an alternative tradition that
regarded sexual activity as normal and healthy. In this context, some
material in the Yijing was interpreted as about human reproduction
and sexuality. An example is hexagram 63 Jiji (After Completion).
This consists of the trigram for water over that for fire. As summa-
rized by van Gulik:
medical treatises and books on sex describe the man’s sexual

experience by comparing it with fire, while that of the woman is
likened to water. Fire easily flares up, but it is also easily extin-
guished by water; water on the contrary, takes a long time to heat
over the fire but it will also cool down very slowly.49
48. Lynn 1994: 283.

49. Van Gulik 2003: 38. The sexual interpretations of yin and yang, some with
reference to the Yijing are discussed at length throughout this classic work.
91
This passage shows how imagery from the Yijing was used to
describe differences in female and male sexuality. In books on the arts
of the bedchamber, detailed explanations are provided on how men
can please their female partners. Thus Confucian orthodoxy is not
the whole story regarding relationships between men and women in
traditional China. Here, in a quite different way that it was for Wang
Bi, the Changes serves as a place to locate ideas that arose much later
than the Western Zhou.
92
C hapter 4
Recently Excavated Manuscripts
Beginning in the 1970s with the revival of archeological activity in

the People’s Republic, many pre-Qin tombs have been discovered
and excavated. Some have included caches of texts that were lost in
ancient times. Probably the oldest of these manuscripts are the bam-
boo strips found in Guodian and those purchased by the Shanghai
Museum, both dated to approximately 300 BCE—that is, mid
Warring States.1 Others, such as the extensively studied Mawangdui
silk manuscript, are from the early Han. For those interested in the
early meanings of the Zhouyi, the pre-Qin versions are of particular
interest.
The discovery of these early manuscripts of the Changes has natu-
rally given rise to the hope that they will clarify many of the obscuri-
ties of the received version of the Zhouyi. It has often been assumed
that the difficulties of the Yijing are due to the garbling of a clearer
original. If this were the case, it has been argued, and the excavated
manuscripts are closer to an original “urtext,” then they would serve
to resolve many of the difficulties of the received version. Indeed, it
might be possible to reconstruct an urtext.
What study of the excavated texts has revealed to date is some-
thing quite different. Much of the textual material is nearly identi-
cal to that of the received version, and often just as obscure. When
characters that differ from those in the received text, in the majority
1. One must distinguish between the age of the physical manuscript and the age
of the composition of the text. It cannot be assumed that those found in earlier tombs
are earlier versions of the text.
93
of instances the variants can be attributed to scribal error or homo-

phone substitution. Other variants are substantive to the degree
that the different manuscripts must be regarded as different versions
altogether, not corruptions of a single ‘correct” text. As we shall see
in what follows, the received Zhouyi is just one of a family of Changes
texts that circulated in the Zhou, and perhaps in some form even in
the late Shang.
We do not know why the transmitted version alone survived into
post-Qin China, whether merely by an accident of preservation or
because of endorsement by influential scholars or officials. If there
was debate as to which was the authentic version, we have no record
of it. In contrast to the Han and later new text/old text controversies
regarding some of the other classics such as the Shangshu (Book of
Historical Documents), the authenticity of the received Yijing seems to
have been taken for granted.
THE NATURE OF EXCAVATED MANUSCRIPTS
Excavated manuscripts have stirred intense interest, not only among

paleographers but among others interested in the history and culture
of early China. This material is greatly extending our knowledge of
Chinese thought and history, but analysis proceeds very slowly. Both
physical restoration of the silk or bamboo substrate and transcrip-
tion and interpretation of the writing have been exceedingly labori-
ous and time consuming. Only because of the patient and painstaking
efforts of Chinese archeologists can these texts can be read at all.
There are three particularly daunting challenges: First, the condi-
tion of many of the manuscripts is fragmentary. Second, in pre-Qin
China the script was not standardized and had considerable variation
between regions and even between individual scribes. Third, most of
the manuscripts are inscribed on bamboo strips, the most common
format for surviving ancient texts. These were bound together by
cords of silk, hemp, or leather. The “book” could be rolled up, but
would be a rather cumbersome object. Finding a specific passage—as
94
R e c e n t ly Exc a va t e d M a n u s c r ip t s
one would need to do during divination—would require unrolling

and rerolling. Block printing made reading much more efficient, but
would not appear in China until the Eastern Han ca. 100 BCE. Silk
was used as early as the Spring and Autumn, according to literary
records, but because silk is a delicate material, few such early manu-
scripts have survived. Among the most important are the Chu Silk
Manuscript ca. 300 BCE2 and the Mawangdui find3 which includes a
version of the Changes.
From the paleographic perspective, silk has the advantage of
maintaining the intended order of the text. Thus we know that the
Mawangdui text had a different order than the received version.
With bamboo strips, however, the binding cords deteriorate so that
only small bits remain. Because of the loss of the binding, the origi-
nal order of the strips is difficult or impossible to determine, greatly
complicating reconstruction of the text. Despite centuries of specula-
tion as to what order of hexagrams is “correct,” the excavated bamboo
strips do not resolve this with certainty, although the reconstruction
of the order of the Shanghai Museum text by Edward Shaughnessy
and Sun Peiyang is an impressive effort in this direction.4 As a result,
the ordering of textual elements remains uncertain for much of the
material.
English-language scholarship on the excavated manuscripts is
still at an early stage, but significant studies are starting to appear.
Those found at Mawangdui and Guodian have received the most
attention from Western scholars.5 While what follows emphasizes
excavated Changes type texts and attached commentaries, the manu-
script discoveries include many other genres, particularly govern-
ment theory and cosmology.
2. This, the oldest extant silk text, is of considerable interest, though not related
to the Zhouyi. Barnard 1973 gives reproductions, translation and commentary.
3. The occupant of the Mawangdui tomb died in 168 BCE. The standard mono-
graph and translation is that of Shaughnessy 1996.
4. Shaughnessy 2014: 47–57.
5. Examples are Allan and Williams 2000; Cook 2012; Harper 1997; Holloway
2009; Shaughnessy 1996; and Tseng 2011.
95
The excavated manuscripts have altered our notion of the

Changes in one rather fundamental way. In pre-Qin China, as noted
by Constance Cook:
[T]‌he definition of an Yi text was still fairly fluid and may have
included varied combinations of textual material drawn from
different textual or oral traditions, traditions that undoubtedly
varied by time and place.6
As is apparent in the use of “Yi” in this context, with the discov-

ery of the excavated manuscripts we now have not only the received
Zhouyi/Yijing, but also a group of similar, though not identical, works
that fall into a category that can be referred to as Yi texts, or Changes
texts. The differences between the early Yi manuscripts indicate that
the Changes was not transmitted in linear fashion from a single origi-
nal, but circulated in multiple forms. The frequent seeming disconti-
nuities and non sequiturs of the received version cannot be assumed
to have resulted from corruption of a lost urtext, but stem from the
nature of the work, which is a compilation of materials from multiple
sources. The scribes or editors who assembled each version likely saw
their function as accurately reproducing the words of their sources,
yet the compilation of text fragments from multiple sources would
have made complete fidelity difficult. The compliers did, however,
adhere rigorously to the fundamental formal structure in which each
section had a title, diagram, judgment, and line texts.7
Given that the Changes circulated in multiple versions, trying to
create a single, supposedly authoritative text with inconsistencies
6. C. Cook 1998: 37.
7. There may well have been other divinatory texts, such as the Baoshan and
possibly the Guicang, in which Changes phrases are combined with textual elements
from other sources. However, the received text, the Shanghai Museum bamboo
strips, and the Mawangdui silk manuscript all adhere to the same formal structure.
Unquestionably there were divinatory texts that were not of the Changes type. For
Baoshan, see C. Cook (2006: 153–210 et passim. For Guicang see Shaughnessy (2014:
141–187).
96
smoothed out risks further obscuring the original meanings by cre-

ating a version that never previously existed.8 For reconstructing the
early Western Zhou meanings, it seems best to accept that the text
is a collection of fragments, some clearly fitting their context, others
not. In contrast, when the Changes is approached as a compendium
of sagely wisdom, as it was in Warring States and later China, then
textual problems tend not to be considered. Interpretation employed
harmonization—that is, reading the texts so as to be consistent with
a preconceived philosophy. As a result, the later Confucianized mean-
ings diverge from the early ones, which were forgotten by the time of
the Zuozhuan.
The earliest extant manuscripts are from tombs dating from
about 300 BCE. Given that the date of the tomb is merely a termi-
nus ad quem, the latest possible date of composition, we do not know
when the text was actually composed. Manuscripts found in earlier
tombs are not necessarily earlier forms of the text. Our present state
of knowledge does not permit arranging the different excavated
texts in order of textual composition. The various textual elements
were almost certainly not created at the same time—they may have
been assembled over a very long interval. Despite these complexi-
ties, it is clear that the various excavated Changes are variants of a
substantially similar work. We do not know how the Changes came
8. Debate on whether to render different versions into a single text or to accept

differences, however peculiar, has a long history in Western textual scholarship, begin-
ning in classical times. The former school is referred to as the Alexandrian method
of analogy and the latter as the Pergamanian method of anomaly. These are clearly
explained by Greetham (1994: 297–302 et passim). While a similar issue applies to
early Chinese texts, the lines of debate have not been as sharply formulated. However,
the primary textual problem with the Zhouyi is not multiple textual witnesses—there
are only a few of these—but meaning change and the frequent use of variant char-
acters. This makes a variorum edition impractical because the very large number of
homophones introduces too many possible variants. Other problems with Chinese
texts include later additions and emendations by multiple editors, apocryphal ver-
sions, and outright forgeries. (Such occur in early western texts as well.) Thus in edit-
ing ancient Chinese texts, ultimately there is no objective principle that will substitute
for judgment. Despite all these technical issues, we can read current editions and get a
reasonable idea of what these ancient texts said.
97
to circulate in different versions—though this is not unusual for

ancient texts. Concerning the Mawangdui text specifically, it seems
clearly later than those from Warring States tombs, given its inclu-
sion of extensive commentarial material. It has a more literary style
as well, as is discussed below.
Differences between the various excavated manuscripts and the
received version demonstrate that the Changes circulated in variant
forms at least by the late Warring States, and presumably earlier. The
most detailed English discussion of differences between the various
texts is that of Xing Wen, who holds that the different manuscripts
represent not only different editions, but are the product of different
divinatory schools.9 He bases this hypothesis on the different ways
the hexagrams are written, as discussed later in this chapter.
The amount of contextual information for the different manu-
scripts varies. Except in the case of looted tombs, the date of burial
can usually be determined. Approximate dating can also be estimated
by examination of the script—which varied over time and geogra-
phy—as well as by objective technical analysis such as radiocarbon
(14C) dating. It should be noted that radiocarbon only provides dating
for the organic material—silk or bamboo—upon which the manu-
script was written. Forgeries have been created on very old materials
so an additional method of date verification is often needed. Carbon
dating has a range of uncertainty of a few decades, and script exami-
nation is somewhat subjective. However, when they agree, as they
usually have, then dates can often be determined within a few decades
with reasonable certainty. As already pointed out, such methods date
the physical manuscript, but not the original composition. Dates of
the latter can be estimated by analysis of literary style, but this also
is uncertain because of the frequency with which texts were modified
over time.
In what follows, the important excavated manuscripts are dis-
cussed. While it would be logical to present them in chronological
order, this is not possible for the reasons just discussed. Instead, they
9. See Xing 2003.
98
are considered in the order in which they were discovered and the
extent that they have been studied. Much of the important work is
available in Chinese only, but the useful English sources are cited in
what follows.10
THE MAWANGDUI SILK YIJING
The silk manuscript found at Mawangdui is the most fully studied to

date of the excavated texts of the Yijing. It can be classified as Yijing
because it incorporates commentaries, including fragments of some
of the Ten Wings. It was discovered in 1973 by Chinese archeologists
excavating the tomb of Li Cang, Lord of Dai, who died in 168 BCE.
The most striking and probably best-known object in this tomb com-
plex is the much reproduced funeral banner of Lady Dai, a cosmologi-
cal painting depicting the journey of the dead to the other world.11
Although the tomb is chronologically later than several of the other
excavated Changes manuscripts, we will begin with it because of its
early discovery and the availability of an English translation with
modern commentary.
The most conspicuous difference between the Mawangdui Yijing
and the transmitted version are the ordering and naming of the
hexagrams.12 The Mawangdui sequence follows a clear principle
based on trigram order. The names, or tags, of thirty-three chapters
differ from the received ones. Despite these differences in hexagram
names, the judgment and line texts closely resemble those associated
with the same diagram in the received version. Shaughnessy con-
cludes that “there are relatively few substantive variora at the level of
the sentence.”13 In his review of the latter’s work, Rutt suggests that
10. Shaughnessy (2014) is the most comprehensive treatment in a Western

language.
11. This and related paintings are considered in detail in Tseng 2011: 169–233 et
passim. The variant Laozi manuscripts have also attracted much interest and were the
subject of an important conference. See Allan and Williams 2000.
99
“at least 560 characters . . . differ from those in the received text. They
amount to about 12% of what is readable.”14 Rutt makes the interest-
ing observation that “[m]‌ost of the variants are more elaborate forms
of characters in the received text, making the work appear ostenta-
tiously learned and mysterious.”15
Thus in the Mawangdui version, more than five hundred years
after the original composition, what had been an unadorned practical
manual for divination, has now taken on literary pretensions. This
choice to make a display of erudition gives us a hint of the personal-
ity of the scribe or, more likely, of the person who commissioned the
copy. Even in this remote age, the taste of the users played a role in
shaping texts, though we find nothing comparable to our present-day
obsession with authors’ personality quirks.16
The commentarial material of the Mawangdui Yijing, though
mostly fragmentary, is conceptually similar to the Ten Wings.
Of particular interest is a relatively long section translated by
Shaughnessy as “The Several Disciples Asked,” which consists of
previously unknown material. Each portion consists of a brief
text from the Zhouyi, introduced by the phrase “the Changes
says,” followed by a response attributed to the Master, suppos-
edly Confucius. Stylistically it does not resemble the Lunyu, being
characterized by a rather Polonius-like portentousness. With many
of the interpretations it is hard to see how they follow from the
Zhouyi texts.
These traits are apparent in the following example. First, from
the received versions, where it is line 6 of hexagram 2 Kun 坤 (This
is 33, Chuan 川, in the Mawangdui manuscript): “Dragons fight in
the meadow. Their blood is black and yellow.”17 “The Several Disciples
Asked” quotes this line and adds commentary:
14. Rutt 1999: 38–40.

15. Rutt 1996: 121f.
16. With later pre-Qin texts, such as the Lunyu, Zhuangzi, and Mencius, personali-
ties become much more evident than is the case with the Yijing.
100
The Changes says: “The dragon fights in the wild; its blood is black
and yellow.” Confucius said: “This speaks of the great man’s treasur-
ing virtue and effecting education among the people. . . . [T]‌hat the
sage issues laws and teachings in order to lead the people is also
like the dragon’s markings, which can indeed be called ‘black and
yellow.’ ”18,19
The reference to the dragon having black and yellow blood is one
of the most enigmatic in the Changes and therefore one that was
quite freely interpreted. In general, as in the example at hand, a baf-
fling phrase is made into a rather contrived statement of Confucian
morality.20 While “The Several Disciples Asked” lacks the originality
and stylistic flair of the Lunyu, it is still of considerable interest. As a
commentary, it does little to resolve the obscurities of the Zhouyi, but
it does provide much valuable material regarding how the classic was
interpreted during the early Han. Significantly, we learn that the mor-
alism of the received tradition was already well developed at this time.
THE BAOSHAN AND WANGSHAN

DIVINATION TEXTS
While the Zhouyi/Yijing is by far the best-known divination text of

China, many others survive, even some from pre-Qin times. In impe-
rial times, after the invention of woodblock printing, such works pro-
liferated. Although many non-Changes divinatory works enjoyed great
popularity, none attained canonical status. Nonetheless, they are of
considerable interest both for their divination procedures and for the
light they shed on early life and belief.21

19. Shaughnessy states this is usually glossed as shun 順 (flow). See Shaughnessy
1996: 304.
20. For examples of other such readings of these lines, see Wilhelm and Baynes
1967: 15 and Lynn 1994: 149f.
21. Strickmann 2005 provides interesting examples.
101
Constance Cook has translated two early divinatory texts and

provides a fascinating account of the place they held in the life of
Shao Tuo, an official of the late Warring States.22 Because his burial
took place in 316 BCE and the tomb was essentially undisturbed prior
to its discovery in 1986, we can be certain that the texts embody
Warring States thought without any possibility of Han emendation.
Cook’s work provides a detailed account of the supernatural and cos-
mological beliefs of the time and gives a vivid sense of life lived in the
midst of an immensely complicated system of frighteningly inimical
supernatural forces. The Baoshan strips are for the most part quite
legible and the Wangshan manuscript, though fragmentary, displays
some interesting features, particularly the resemblance of many
phrases to those of the King Wu Ding oracle bones, inscribed 1,000
years earlier. It is a mark of the importance Chinese attached to divi-
nation that the formulaic patterns were conserved for so long.
These two manuscripts provide clear accounts of the way divina-
tion was used in the life of an ancient Chinese official of middle rank,
offering more details of the reply to the divinatory inquiry than
is usual in the Zhouyi. The latter, though it undoubtedly contains
some fragmentary records of actual divinations, gives no details
about how they were performed or interpreted. The Shangshu, or
Book of Documents, provides many anecdotes of divinations for
state matters, but much of its material is clearly of post-Zhou ori-
gin and obviously created to support political or didactic agendas. It
cannot be taken as actual accounts of the Western Zhou.
The Baoshan divinatory text comprises both annual and inci-
dental divinations.23 Its format has a resemblance to the Spring and
Autumn Annals. Here is an example:
During the year when the guest from Eastern Zhou, Xu Cheng,
presented a gift of ritual meat at Zaiying . . . 24
22. C. Cook 2006 provides transcription, English translation and legible photo-
graphic reproductions of the Baoshan bamboo strips themselves.
23. C. Cook 2006: 83.
24. C. Cook 2006:178.
102
And, from the Spring and Autumn:
In the [duke’s] eighth year, in spring, in the first month on

Ke-maou, we offered the winter sacrifice.25
In both texts, events are organized by year, and the year is identi-
fied by an important event that occurred during it. Sacrificial offer-
ings are recorded, indicating their importance. Sima Qian’s history
followed a similar annals organization, though providing far more
extended narrative beyond the bare statements of the Spring and
Autumn and the Baoshan.
As in the oracle-bone inscriptions, both the Baoshan and the
Wangshan assume that misfortune, including illness, is due to the
ill-will of spirits or recently deceased ancestors, both assumed to be
sensitive to the least slight. Cook suggests that guilt for ordering
executions, as well as fear of having inadvertently offended local dei-
ties on his many travels, may have been specific sources of anxiety
for Shao Tuo.
A large proportion of divinations were performed to detect
supernatural dangers, as these can only be discovered by means of
divination. Indeed, alleviation of anxiety is a major motivation for
divination in all times, though it not uncommonly has the oppo-
site effect. Travel was particularly fraught, not only because of the
possibility of wild animals or bandits but because each of the car-
dinal directions was thought to harbor specific threats, not only to
the living but also to the souls of the deceased on their postmortem
journey.26
25. Legge 1970: 51.

26. The cosmological imaginaire of the late Warring States with its extensive pan-
theon of potentially inimical spirits is vividly described by C. Cook 2006: 79–147 et
passim. In the modern world there is a tendency to assign the supernatural to the
category of entertainment, but it was all too real to the ancients and, indeed, still is
to many. A Chinese acquaintance once told me that, although she does not believe in
ghosts, she is still afraid of them, which is probably true for many others who might
not so openly admit it.
103
As already noted, the Baoshan entries identify the year by

an important event that occurred during that year, followed
by the month and day in branch-and-stem format. Then follow
details of the divination, including the name of the diviner, the
method used, and the interpretation of the result. The extant text
names a total of twelve diviners and ten methods of divination.
Tortoise shell and yarrow seem to have been used in alternation
and possibly sometimes in combination, as noted in other early
records.27 Unfortunately, as is generally the case with early divina-
tion records, precise details of the methodology are not included.
However, there is no reason to believe that the procedures used
to divine with oracle bones or yarrow stalks varied in more than
minor ways. The stalks might have been sorted differently, or dice
or other devices may have been employed to cast hexagrams, but
the fundamental principles must have been the same. There is a
uniformity, even monotony, in the recorded interpretations, gen-
erally consisting of a prognosis and a recommendation for amelio-
rative actions, usually prayers or exorcisms, and animal sacrifice.
The latter were usually quite specific, such as a white dog or dried
meat from a black pig. This is similar to what is found in the king
Wu Ding oracle-bone inscriptions, although in Baoshan human
sacrifice is no longer mentioned.28
Here is an example of a typical inquiry: “[W]‌hile busy serving
the king from one Xiayi month to the next . . . has his person perhaps
incurred any . . . blame?”29 In this inquiry, blame 咎 (jiu) refers specifi-
cally to blame by spirit entities.
In another instance, the diviner proclaims as follows: “(Wu)
divined about it: the long term prognostication is auspicious, but
with some concern regarding his person and home, moreover things
outside (his person) are not going smoothly.”30 This can be regarded
27. C. Cook 2006: 106.

28. References to human sacrifice are pervasive in the oracle-bone inscriptions—
for examples, see Takashima and Serruys 1997: 171 et passim.
29. C. Cook 2006: 171f.
30. C. Cook 2006: 189.
104
as a prototypical divination statement. It is hard to see how it could

be wrong, given that the “long term” can always still be in the future.
With only a slight change in diction, it could be from a modern news-
paper astrology column.
The bamboo strips include six pairs of hexagrams.31 Cook plau-
sibly translates these as an initial hexagram and its transformation
by a moving line. For example, hexagram 41 Sun 損 (Decrease)
moves to hexagram 19 Lin 臨 (Approach). The digits used to des-
ignate the lines are not those of the received text (6, 7, 8, 9), but
instead 1, 5, 6, 7, and 8.32 Thus the Sun hexagram is designated as
166811 and the Lin hexagram as 666811.
This is important because it suggests that the numbers used to
designate the line positions were not originally fixed. There is some
controversy, however, as to whether the use of numerals 1 and 5 indi-
cates a different divination system, or simply that there was more
than one system of number representation for Yi line texts. The refer-
ence to changing lines generating an additional hexagram indicates
that such transformations were in use by the mid–Warring States
at the latest. References to changing lines are also prominent in the
Zhouyi anecdotes of the Zuozhuan. While this raises the possibility
that they were in use even earlier, in the Spring and Autumn, the
possibility that the Zuozhuan references are later additions cannot
be ruled out.
The other text found in this tomb, the Wangshan divination
text is in fragmentary condition. The surviving passages consist of
brief notations with concerns similar to those of the Shang oracle-
bone inscriptions, though with somewhat more detail. This indi-
cates striking continuity in the way divinations were performed
and interpreted over a nearly one-thousand year interval, from
the oracle-bone inscriptions of Wu Ding to the Chu excavated
manuscripts.33
31. Wen 2003: 574–578.

32. C. Cook 1998: 136.
33. L. Li 1990: 73.
105
THE GUICANG
Fragments of a Changes-type manuscript were discovered in bamboo

strips included in a larger bundle of such strips excavated from a tomb
in Wangjiatai in 1993. These contain fragments of the Guicang 歸藏.
Bits of this text also survive as quotations embedded in transmitted
texts, particularly those from Ji Zhong (discussed subsequently). The
importance of the Guicang rests on two factors. First, the name it
bears is that of a Changes-type text believed to be used in the Shang.
There are references to it in the Zhouli 周禮 (Book of Rituals of the
Zhou). There it is listed as one of three divinatory texts in use, with
the others being the Zhouyi and the Lianshan 連山.34
The term Guicang has been translated in more than one way.
Shaughnessy renders it as “returning to the treasured.”35 Given that
it is a divinatory text, an alternative translation might be “returning
to the hidden,” since divination functions to reveal matters that are
normally invisible. A freer rendering is that Zheng Yuan (127–120
BCE): “[N]‌one of the myriad things does not return and hide in it.”36
Once one gets past the double negative this is recognizable as a refer-
ence to the important line in the Daodejing that all things return to
the Dao. However this sort of cosmological interpretation would be
unlikely before the Warring States, and so is not of Shang or Western
Zhou origin, but a later embellishment. Given the dating of the
Wangjiatai tomb as between 278 and 206 BCE,37 we cannot deter-
mine how much before this the manuscript material was composed.
If the existing Guicang is that of the Shang, it would be of immense
interest, but it seems improbable that it represents the Shang text in
unaltered form.
34. Several valuable studies on this important text have been published in
English. See Liao 2006; Shaughnessy 2006: 148–149; 157–159; 2014: 141–187; Wen
2003: 584–587.
36. Liao 2006: 47.
37. Liao 2006: 47.
106
The texts of the extant Guicang are longer and more detailed
than the only surviving divinatory texts that are clearly of Shang
origin, the oracle bones. Stylistically, the surviving Guicang texts are
in narrative form, making them more like Eastern Zhou divinatory
material, such as the Baoshan texts or the Zhouyi anecdotes of the
Zuozhuan, than the Western Zhou portion of the Yijing. Tantalizing
though it is to imagine that the Guicang is at least in part of Shang
origin, given the paucity of material and its unknown editorial his-
tory, such is merely speculative.
The Guicang uses the same hexagram system as the Zhouyi, often
with the same names, indicating that it clearly belongs to the Changes
family. The hexagrams have general statements appended, but no
line texts. Unlike the Zhouyi texts, those of the Guicang refer to a spe-
cific divination with names of participants. Xing Wen speculates that
line texts are absent because the Guicang is about the unchanging,
while the Zhouyi is about change.38 Such explicit philosophizing is
not found in the texts themselves, however. The Zhouyi, too, though
obviously about change, does not provide any metaphysical concept
of change; it is simply a given. The philosophical theories of change
associated with the Zhouyi, such as yin and yang, were added in the
Warring States and later.39 It is also problematic that any divinatory
system could be about the unchanging, given that the purpose of any
divinatory system is to tell what the present situation will change
into.
It is possible that the Guicang was intended as a record of exam-
ples of previous divinations for each hexagram, rather than as a man-
ual for doing new divinations. If this is the case, then the texts would
emphasize the outcome of the divination process, rather than the
process itself. In this case, there would be no reason to incorporate
38. Xing 2003: 586.

39. This is not to say that such theories were not inspired by the Zhouyi, or that
they are inconsistent with it, simply that they embody ways of thought that are his-
torically later.
107
the full line texts. Alternatively, some versions of the Changes may
not have included line texts.
Many of the Wangjiatai Guicang phrases refer to supernatural or
mythological events, for example:
In the past Xia Hou divined by milfoil about riding a flying

dragon and rising into heaven and had the stalks prognosticated
by . . . Gao Yao. Gao Yao said: Auspicious.40
In contrast, the Zhouyi, though it contains some supernatural

references, seems more concerned with ordinary events. Mythical
events, like those of the Guicang, spice up a text and also serve to
connect the human situation to the cosmos. They do not tell us about
the actual situation divined about.
The lack of concrete details is inevitably frustrating to those curi-
ous about life in early China. One of the leading Western scholars of
the Yijing, Richard J. Smith, laments that
detailed accounts of divination with the Changes are difficult to

come by. . . . [R]‌eferences to the use of the Yijing are bountiful but
relatively brief—in part, no doubt, because so much could sim-
ply be assumed by the writer. Diary entries and correspondence
usually provide little more than a mention of the hexagram(s)
drawn, and perhaps a general indication of the problem at
hand. Few individuals indicate the method used to construct a
hexagram. . . . 41
While Smith is writing about the Qing dynasty, the earliest divina-
tion texts similarly omit procedural details.
Another example from the Guicang texts seems to record an
actual event, except that it is placed in antiquity. Shaughnessy relates
it to Zhouyi hexagram 7 Shi 師 (Army):

41. Smith 1991: 112.
108
In antiquity the Son of Heaven Mu sent out troops and had the
stalks divined by Yu Qiang. Yu Qiang [said]: “Not auspicious.” It
says: “The dragon descends from heaven, but the road is long and
far; flying and piercing heaven, so blue its wings.”42
In contrast, the judgment text of the received version reads:
The army needs perseverance

And a strong man.
Good fortune without blame.43
Though both texts are related to the hexagram title of “army” or

“troops,” this is a very limited resemblance, as divinatory texts fre-
quently refer to military affairs. Insertion of omens or divinations
into accounts of significant historical events are common in ancient
texts of many cultures. These serve to emphasize the importance
of an historical event and to enhance the prestige of a divination
method by seeming to document its accuracy.44
Shaughnessy quotes a passage in a Song dynasty (1190 CE) source
attributed to the Guicang that rather closely resembles the Shuogua
(Explanation of the Trigrams) in the Ten Wings of the received Yijing.
Qian is heaven, is the ruler, is the father, is great crimson, is the

advisor, is the minister, is a horse, and is a bloody hexagram.45
This indicates that the association of correlative cosmology with

Changes-type texts was not limited to the received Yijing. It is a fur-
ther instance establishing that the transmitted Yijing consisting of
a hexagram, associated divinatory texts, and later commentary, was
not sui generis, but rather was one of a family of divinatory manuals.

44. Most of the divinations mentioned in the Guicang refer to men, though a few
refer to women, both historical and mythological.
109
Indeed, we sometimes cannot be certain whether pre-Song refer-

ences to the Zhouyi or Yijing, for example, those of Wang Bi, are to
the transmitted version.
The Guicang was quoted by Gao Pu (276–324 CE) but seems to have dis-
appeared from circulation sometime after that. Passages were quoted
in transmitted texts, such as transcriptions of those discovered at Ji
Zhong; though these were long regarded as apocryphal, comparison
with the recently excavated version confirms their overall authenticity.
THE JI ZHONG BAMBOO STRIPS
Ji Zhong—that is, the Ji tomb—was sealed about 300 BCE, close in

time to the more comprehensive Guodian and Shanghai Museum dis-
coveries (which are both discussed in the following sections).46 The
manuscripts included some brief quotations attributed to the Guicang,
When the Ji Zhong tomb was in the process of being robbed, thought
to be in 279 CE, the robbers were discovered in the act and the surviv-
ing manuscripts gathered and sent to the imperial court in Loyang.47
This makes them the earliest texts known to have been discovered by
excavation, though not the earliest in date of original composition.
The emperor convened a group of scholars to put the strips into order
and transcribe them into the standard characters of the time, beginning
about 281 CE. Unfortunately, most of these texts were destroyed during
the sack of Loyang about three decades later. The text that has attracted
the most interest from this group is the Zhushu jinian 竹書紀年 (Bamboo
Annals). Because of its importance in establishing the chronology of the
early dynasties, this has been the most studied—and debated—of the Ji
Zhong texts. Its last entry gives a date of 299 BCE, indicating that the
manuscript was completed on, or shortly after, that date.48

47. The history of these texts, and the issues surrounding them, is discussed in
detail by Shaughnessy 2006: 131–84, on which the present account is based.
48. Since the chronology goes back to mythical figures of the Xia dynasty and dif-
fers from that in other sources, its accuracy and authenticity were long questioned. The
complex issues regarding this text and its various recensions are discussed in detail in
110
The scholar Du Yu examined the Ji Zhong texts in 282 CE, shortly

after their discovery and wrote that it included a Zhouyi exactly iden-
tical to the text he was familiar with.49 This does not entirely resolve
the matter of the date the text was standardized, however, as we do
not have the Zhouyi text that Du Yu used for the comparison. The Ji
Zhong also contained a separate treatise on yin and yang, confirming
that this metaphysical concept was well developed by the time the
tomb was closed. Disappointingly, nothing of the Ji Zhong text of the
Zhouyi has survived so we do not know if the yin-yang metaphysics
had been applied to the Changes at that time.
GUODIAN
This collection of bamboo strip manuscripts was discovered in Hubei

(the area of the ancient state of Chu) in 1993. We are fortunate to
have a complete and quite lucid translation with extensive annota-
tions and transcription into standard Chinese.50 Since, as Scott Cook
states, the Guodian discoveries represent the only archeologically
excavated complete Warring States philosophical texts, their impor-
tance cannot be exaggerated.51
Though divinatory texts have been found in many sets of exca-
vated texts, there are none in the Guodian find. However, there
are several interesting references to the Changes, suggesting that it
Shaughnessy 2006: 185–256 and Nivison 2009. Both regard the text as authentic and
of significant value in establishing chronology for the Shang and Zhou. It should be
noted that the chronology of the early dynasties is a politically sensitive matter in the
People’s Republic of China, in part because Chinese take understandable pride in the
antiquity of their civilization. Such sensitivity is not unique to China—one can imag-
ine the public outcry that would result if it were claimed that American independence
did not really begin on July 4, 1776.
50. S. Cook 2012. This two-volume work includes not only the complete Guodian
corpus but much interesting commentary regarding early Chinese texts.
51. S. Cook 2012, which includes transcription of the Chinese text, itself is a
monumental achievement.
111
would have been familiar to readers of the Guodian material. Though

brief, these are important because they represent some of the earli-
est precisely datable references to the Changes. While the Zuozhuan
makes much more extensive reference to the Zhouyi and is nominally
much earlier, its actual dates of composition remain controversial,
with many scholars believing that it did not reach its final form until
the early Han. Thus it does not provide evidence of when the Changes
became widely familiar to the literate elite.
The text entitled Lui De 六德, or The Six Virtues, which con-
cerns proper human relationships, after discussing the duties of
husband, wife, son, ruler, and minister, states that “if we observe
them in the Changes and Spring and Autumn Annals, there, too,
we find them.”52 A miscellaneous collection of aphorisms, Yucong
Yi 語叢一, or The Thicket of Sayings 1, includes the phrase, “the
Changes are that by which the ways of Heaven and man are con-
verged.” Scott Cook notes the similarity of this phrase to one in
the Mawangdui version and to a similar phrase 故能彌綸天地之道
in the Dazhuan of the received Yijing.53 The Dazhuan line as trans-
lated by Legge “shows us . . . the course (of things) in heaven and
earth.”54
The Guodian clearly demonstrates that the interpretation of the
Yi as “converging” heaven and earth was already in circulation by
the mid Warring States. Thus the Changes was viewed as an ethical
and cosmological text by 300 BCE. The phrases have the flavor of the
Ten Wings commentaries, particularly the Dazhuan, rather than the
Zhouyi portion. We cannot, of course, know what other material from
the Wings was extant at that time.
The extent to which the material in the Ten Wings is from the
Warring States rather than Han continues to be debated. The refer-
ences in these Guodian strips do not establish this, but do show that
similar ideas were current in the Warring States.
52. S. Cook 2012: 785.

53. Dazhuan I.4; S. Cook 2012: 836.
54. Legge 1935: 278.
112
THE SHANGHAI MUSEUM BAMBOO STRIPS
Another excavated text of great interest is that usually referred to

as the Shanghai Museum bamboo-strip version. This was looted
from a tomb whose location has never been determined, though
it is thought to be from the same general area as the Guodian find
and is similarly dated to around 300 BCE. It appeared on the Hong
Kong antique market in 1994, shortly after the Guodian discovery,
and was brought to the attention of the Shanghai Museum by a
prominent paleographer.55 A second batch appeared subsequently
and some strips in the collections of the Museum of the Chinese
University of Hong Kong were recognized as belonging to the same
manuscript. It is suspected that additional strips are in the collec-
tions of other museums. The purchase was funded at least in part
by wealthy benefactors, and the price is rumored to have been
extremely high.
As being of undoubted Warring States origin the Shanghai
Museum manuscript is of extraordinary interest, particularly since it
demonstrates that a version extremely close to the received text was
in circulation by circa 300 BCE. It has very recently been translated
into English,56 and a high-quality Chinese version is available, with
very clear photographic reproductions of the strips and transcription
into standard characters (kaishu).57 Shaughnessy’s translation places
the Chinese transcribed from the bamboo strips side-by-side with
the received text in both Chinese and in his English translation. The
two versions of the Changes are similar to a striking degree, though
not identical. Shaughnessy also presents evidence that the order
of hexagrams is similar to the received one, based on the plausible
assumption that strips broken in the same place were originally next
to each other.
55. This manuscript and the circumstances surrounding its discovery are dis-
cussed in S. Cook 2012: 23–26 and Shaughnessy 2014: 38f.
56. Shaughnessy 2014.
57. Pu 2006.
113
Unique to this manuscript are six different types of small squares

inked in red and black. It has been suggested that these represent
yin and yang reaching their maximum and transforming into each
other.58 This intriguing interpretation is highly speculative, particu-
larly since the integration of the hexagrams with yin-yang cosmology
is of uncertain date. No other examples of similar visual symbol-
ism for yin and yang are known. Another theory is that the differ-
ent types of squares were guides to the sequence of the hexagrams.
Interpreted in this way, the ordering of the squares suggests a hexa-
gram sequence closely resembling that of the received order.
THE FUYANG ZHOUYI
The Fuyang manuscript, which is also referred to by the name of

a nearby village, Shuanggudui, was found in a Western Han tomb,
whose occupant died in 165 BCE.59 It was excavated in 1997, but
the tomb had already been damaged by tomb robbers during the
Western Han. The problems of its physical condition and the extreme
efforts of Chinese scholars in restoring it are vividly described by
Shaughnessy:
[T]‌he [1997] excavation took place during a driving rainstorm.

The excavators used a pump to remove mud that had filled the
coffin chamber, in the process pumping out also the bamboo
strips of the text, which the long submersion in muddy water
had turned into paper-thin strips, fused together into clumps
by ground pressure. Just the separating of the surviving frag-
ments took almost a year of concentrated work at the Bureau
of Cultural Relics in Beijing. . . . [I]n some cases as an individual
strip was peeled off the clump to which it had been fused, the ink
58. Xing 2003: 590f.; Smith 2008: 49f; Shaughnessy 2014: 41–47 et passim.

59. Shaughnessy 2014: 189–279 provides detailed analysis, transcription and
English translation of this interesting but frustratingly fragmentary text.
114
of the text written on the strip below it adhered to its back, and
then had to be read there as a mirror image. . . .60
The fragmentary nature of this text is particularly disappointing as

some of the line statements have an additional clause or clauses;
these are termed by Shaughnessy as “divination statements.”61 They
are associated with phrases quite similar to received text but usually
separated from it by the character bu 卜, “to divine” or “divined.” The
content of these statements and the relation to the phrases of the
received text with which they are placed is variable. Some reinforce or
clarify the meanings of a corresponding passage in the received ver-
sion; others introduce new information. In many instances, however,
the relation of the divination statement to the received line text is
not evident.
An example of a statement that expands on the meaning of the
transmitted version is associated with the second line of hexagram 24
Fu 復 (Return). In the received text, the line statement is: “Six in
the second place means: Quiet return. Good Fortune”62 In the Fuyang
manuscript, it is stated: “Divining about [卜 ] . . . the departed female
servants [qie 妾] all return.”63 This provides the answer to the obvious
question, “who returned?” The status of the young women referred
to is fairly specific. Although qie in later imperial China referred to a
legally established secondary wife who lived in the family household,
in early usage qie could mean any woman subject to the male in the
household, such as slave or servant.64
This divination statement is an evocative one. Since all of these
girls or women had departed and their return was favorable, at least

63. Modified from Shaughnessy 2001: 13.
64. Qie is usually translated into English as “concubine,” but this is misleading
because it omits the official status these women held in imperial China. That second-
ary wives had official status, however, does not mean that their lot was a favorable one.
Complex family intrigues were usual, as depicted, for example, in one of China’s most
famous literary works, The Dream of the Red Chamber.
115
for those to whom they were subject, one can speculate that they had
left because of oppressive conditions. The oppressor might have been
the dominant male of the household, but it may just as well have
been other women who were rivals for his favor. First wives in polyg-
amous families traditionally resented their younger, more attractive
rivals and used their senior position to abuse them. Sometimes, how-
ever, women of the household formed strong friendships. That all the
women in this passage had left suggests they were aiding each other.
That the women left for a neutral reason, such as going to market,
seems unlikely since there would be no reason to record a routine
event. Furthermore, the fact that their return is “fortunate” sug-
gests some concern that they might not come back. Thus the divina-
tion statement, more than the Zhouyi line phrase, gives us a sense
of Western Zhou life. Attempted escape by slaves and bond servants
must have been common, as it has been in all such societies. We can-
not conclude, however, that the received Zhouyi line text specifically
was about the return of qie; the Fuyang divination statement may
have been the record of a specific divination for which this line was
obtained. Shaughnessy notes that the divination statements are
similar to entries in record books found in other tombs of this era.65
Preserving the responses to divinations was obviously important, as
evidenced by the immense number recorded on the oracle bones, yet
the records are regrettably concise.
A divination statement related to hexagram 61 Zhongfu 中孚 ,
line 5 illuminates the received text in a different way. While Lynn
translates the title as “Inner Trust,” Rutt has “Trying Captives;” the lat-
ter is consistent with the early meaning of fu as captives. Line 5 reads:
九五：有孚攣如，无咎.
Rutt has: “Nine in the Fifth: Sacrificing captives, bound together.

No misfortune.”66 This does not fit the rest of the texts of this

66. Rutt 1996: 284.
116
hexagram, which pertain to cranes and their young, sharing a goblet,

and other imagery related to affection. Here we have evidence from
the excavated Fuyang manuscript, in which the line is quite differ-
ent: “Divining about . . . taking a wife or marrying off a daughter; it
will not be lucky; about hunting you will not make a catch.”67 While
this is clearly a different line, it bears a better thematic relation to the
other lines in the received version in that it refers to interpersonal
bonds, though the prognosis is inauspicious. This suggests that the
line about captives was out of place with this hexagram. The scribe
may have wished to fill a lacuna and so inserted a stock phrase that
did not fit the context. Later on the problem of captives was solved by
the new meaning of fu, which made the line into a statement about
trust binding people together.68 Alternatively, fu might have meant
trust by the time of the Fuyang manuscript.
HEXAGRAM VARIANTS IN THE

EXCAVATED TEXTS
While the emphasis in the preceding discussion of excavated manu-

scripts of the Changes has been on the texts, there are differences
in the diagrams that are also of interest. Western scholarship has
tended to focus on the texts because of their historical interest.
However, from at least the Warring States onward, Chinese regarded
the diagrams as at least equal in importance with the texts. Thus,
consideration of representation of the diagrams is important for a
full appreciation of the Changes.
Considering the many centuries across which they were transmit-
ted, the diagrams were highly conserved, showing only slight varia-
tion. They differ only in two attributes: the shape of the yin, or broken
lines, and whether the diagrams are written as a single six-line figure
or as two trigrams one on top of the other. To clarify the latter, here
67. Shaughnessy 2001: 13f.; Rutt 1996: 284.

68. Rutt 527.
117
is a hexagram written as a single figure, as in the received versions,

and as two trigrams:
The gap between lines 3 and 4 is here somewhat exaggerated com-

pared to what is found on the various manuscripts.
A table of the different ways of depicting the diagrams is provided
by Xing Wen.69 In the received text, the hexagrams are depicted as six
lines evenly spaced with the yin (broken) lines horizontal. The most
common variant in excavated manuscripts is for the yin lines to be
written sloping upward toward the center, like a flattened version of
the character for “eight”—ba 八. This does not necessarily represent
the numeral 8—though this has been suggested, since 8 can refer to
an unchanging broken line. However, in the line texts of the received
version, yin lines are always referred as “six,” though the divination
methods designate them as “six” or “eight,” referring to changing or
fixed lines respectively.70 In other variant ways of writing the broken
lines, the two sides either meet the top, forming the top two lines of
a triangle, or curve upward at the center.
Xing argues that the differences in visual depiction of the hexa-
grams represent separate divinatory schools. This is an interesting
possibility, but raises questions of its own: First, the slightly differ-
ent ways of writing the hexagrams may be akin to variant forms of
characters, indicative of individual and regional orthographic differ-
ences, but not of interpretive ones. Second, and more important,
what a “divinatory school” would consist of is not at all clear. The
term suggests an organized group, perhaps a lineage, that shares
common principles of selecting hexagrams and interpreting them.
69. Xing 2003: 577–579.

70. There is some indication that the numerals designating the yang lines some-
times differed between manuscripts. See C. Cook 1998: 136f.
118
Certainly a great variety of interpretive methods, including elaborate

ways of manipulating the hexagrams, have been attested from the
Han onwards, but it is unclear that all represented the practices of
an organized group. They could have been the creations of specific
individuals who may or may not have had followers. Users may have
read the version of the Changes available to them, without having any
direct personal connection with the scribes or editors who created
it. As the history of the received text clearly demonstrates, different
readers of the same text can have extremely divergent views of its
meaning without necessarily being associated with others who share
their approach. Some authors even invented their own divinatory
diagrams for which they composed their own texts, but these never
supplanted the hexagrams.71
While we know much more about the Changes as a result of these
archaeological discoveries, many questions remain. For example,
we know little about the demographics of Yijing divination. To what
extent did people use the Yijing for themselves versus consulting a
professional diviner? Was it only for the literate, or were there free-
lance diviners who provided Yijing prognostications for the unlet-
tered? To what extent was it used by women, and did they have their
own ways of interpreting it? While we have no definite answers to
these questions, there is no reason to think use of the Yijing was
restricted to a particular group. Just because it was males of the lite-
rati class who left the most records, we cannot assume that others
did not make use of the esteemed classic.
LOOTED MATERIALS: ETHICAL
CONSIDERATIONS
When considering looted manuscripts—such as the Shanghai

Museum bamboo strips, obtained from tomb robbers—ethical
71. Translations of later divinatory works derived from the Changes are Nylan
1993 and Sawyer 2004.
119
concerns arise. No scholar advocates tomb robbery, of course, but a

variety of viewpoints exist on the use of such material, not only manu-
scripts but also other objects of aesthetic or historical value. Some feel
that such materials should not be used in research because to do so is
likely to encourage further tomb robberies. Museums are now wary
about purchasing unprovenanced items, but some unscrupulous pri-
vate collectors are not. Once looted, artifacts will likely be hidden or
destroyed if not sold to a museum or to private collectors. Most looted
items will find a buyer, making an effective boycott on the purchase
of such materials extremely unlikely. Those concealed in private col-
lections will be lost to scholarship. Another issue, which fortunately
does not arise in the Shanghai Museum case, is when material looted
in one country is sold into another. By buying the bamboo strips the
Shanghai Museum acted to preserve China’s national heritage. The
same cannot be said for such examples as the removal of the “Elgin
marbles” from the Parthenon to the British Museum.
Ethical sensitivity to this issue is recent; a high proportion of
the objects on display in the world’s museums were removed from
their original sites without authorization. Continued retention of
these works by museums has been defended by arguing that they are
part of world-cultural heritage rather than the exclusive property of
their country of origin. This is particularly the view of the museums
and libraries that now possess the objects. Scholars, who work with
looted materials, consider that their importance for humanity’s his-
torical heritage justifies study and publication.
These ethical issues are extensively discussed in current scholar-
ship from the rather different points-of-view of archaeologists and
museum curators.72 Also relevant is an article by Paul Goldin, one of
the most outspoken critics of the use of Chinese looted materials.73
The problem of looting is not only the illicit profiteering, but the
loss of provenance and, commonly, other damage to the archeological
72. See Renfrew 2000 (for the perspective of archaeologists) and Cuno 2010 (for
the perspective of museum curators).
73. Goldin 2013.
120
record. Bamboo-strip manuscripts are particularly fragile, and tomb

robbers often damage them in their quest for objects of more obvious
value. In some cases, as with the Shanghai Museum manuscripts, the
context can be partially reconstructed from circumstantial evidence,
in this case based on similarities to the archaeologically excavated
Guodian manuscripts, but this does not substitute for scientifically
conducted excavation.74
Regrettably, archaeologists and paleographers are not always dis-
interested. It is not unusual, as with the Dead Sea Scrolls, that pub-
lication is delayed for many years because of disputes over scholarly
precedence. Some paleographers seem to feel that these materials are
only for experts and that the general public has no right to see them
exhibited. Museum curators, understandably, tend to be in the oppo-
site camp, since their role is to prepare them for public display. No
doubt these issues will continue to be the subject of intense debate.
THE REINVENTION OF THE ZHOUYI
Beginning with the efforts of early twentieth-century Chinese phi-

lologists to reassess the history of their classical texts and continuing
with the analysis of recently discovered Changes-type manuscripts,
our understanding has undergone considerable changes. We now see
the Confucian moralistic view of the Yijing not as its original mean-
ing, but as the later product of increasing ethical and philosophical
awareness. This does not mean that the restored early meanings, or
the texts of the excavated manuscripts, are more—or less—authen-
tic than the received version. Rather they reveal that the Changes
was not a single text, transmitted unchanged, but a variety of related
texts. Eventually, what became the received text supplanted the oth-
ers. While the text became fixed, interpretation remained dynamic,
adapting itself to new ways of thought—as it continues to do today.
74. Meyer 2012: 27.
121
C hapter 5
Ancient Meanings Reconstructed
The present chapter discusses the early meanings of the Zhouyi.

Paradoxically these only exist as modern reconstructions and thus
need to be understood in the dual contexts of a remote age and the
modern one. The restoration of the early meanings of the Zhouyi rep-
resented a fundamental discontinuity in understanding of the clas-
sic, essentially changing it from a scripture to an historical document.
What has variously been called the “modernist school,” or “context
criticism,” produced a version of the Changes with very different
meanings than the received ones. This should not be taken to mean
that the Western Zhou meanings replace those of the received text,
rather they restore an early stage of the long history of the book.
THE REASSESSMENT OF THE

ANCIENT CL ASSICS
The attempt to recover the Western Zhou meanings was a response

to two important trends in Chinese thought that emerged in the
later Qing and republican periods. The first was the growth of a
more evidence-based philological methodology.1 The second intel-
lectual influence, considered in more detail in c hapter 9, was the
May Fourth Movement.2 For the associated Doubting Antiquity
1. Elman 2001 discusses the history of this movement.

2. Neo-Confucian thought in the twentieth century is covered in detail by
Makeham 2008.
122
A n ci e n t M e a n i n g s R e c o n s t r uc t e d
Movement (Yigupai 疑古派), canonical texts such as the Yijing were

historically conditioned rather than repositories of timeless wis-
dom. On a practical level, they were no longer definitive guides for
government, education, and personal life. Rather than as “compris-
ing all things in heaven and earth,”3 many Chinese came to see the
Yijing and the other ancient classics as a major cause of what they
now saw as China’s backwardness. Given that they had been revered
since at least the time of Confucius, the dethroning of the classics
was one of the most profound intellectual changes in Chinese his-
tory (see chapter 9). Yixue易學, or the study of the Changes as a
philosophical activity, was replaced by archaeology and philology.
Though Chinese continue to hold their Confucian classics in high
esteem, their place is somewhat like that of Plato and Aristotle
in the West—highly respected but rarely actually read, except by
scholars.4
By bringing to the forefront such unpleasant practices as human
sacrifice, the reconstruction of the ancient Zhouyi also served the
larger agenda of discrediting Chinese antiquity as the model for the
present. Evidence-based methodology cast doubt on the traditional
doctrine, as espoused by Confucius and Laozi among many others,
that “high antiquity” was a time of benevolent sage rulers and vir-
tuous, compliant subjects. Social reform could no longer be based
on return to the supposed early ways of culture heroes such as Yao,
Shun, or even the historical figures of King Wen, King Wu, and Duke
of Zhou. The culture depicted in the Zhouyi was revealed to be not
benevolent, but highly authoritarian and cruel. Henceforth, China
would have to look elsewhere than its own antiquity for ethical and
political models.
Not only modern Chinese critics, but also Western missionary
translators—McClatchie, Legge, and Rutt—took an adversarial
3. The cosmological conceptions of the Dazhuan are discussed in c hapters 6 and 7.

4. Confucius’s excellent name recognition has recently been used for propaganda
purposes that have little to do with the man or his views as recorded in the so-called
Five Classics, or Four Books.
123
stance toward the Changes, though from a quite different view-

point. They considered the Chinese preference for their tradi-
tional classics as a major reason for resistance to the Christian
message. The earliest Jesuit missionaries, notably Matteo Ricci
and Joachim Bouvet, had employed a different strategy, sug-
gesting that the Chinese classics were consistent with Christian
doctrine. This approach was never accepted by Protestants and
was eventually condemned by the Catholic church as a result of
the so-called rites controversy. Missionaries now tried, with only
slight success, to convince Chinese that their traditional spiri-
tual ideas should be replaced by Christianity. Not all missionar-
ies held such views, however. Richard Wilhelm greatly admired
Chinese culture and supposedly boasted of never having con-
verted a single Chinese. His version, in contrast to those of the
other missionary translators, presents the Changes as a source of
spiritual inspiration, not as a rival to any particular religion. (For
a discussion of the transmission of the Changes into the West, see
chapter 10.)
HOW THE ANCIENT MEANINGS WERE

RECONSTRUCTED
A leading Western scholar of the Yijing, Bent Nielsen, summarizes

the development of new understandings of the classic as follows:
In China the discovery of the oracle bones led to a new approach

to the classics in general and to the Changes in particular.
During the Qing dynasty (1644–1911) the disciplines of phi-
lology and textual criticism had reached a high level of sophis-
tication. . . . This new approach—often referred to as context
criticism or contextual studies—in turn, meant a shift from
relying on the Han commentators to interpretations based on
knowledge of grammar, syntax, and vocabulary obtained from
studies of the oracle-bone and bronze inscriptions. . . . Assisted
124
by the skeptical tradition of the May 4th movement, the Changes

was stripped of its “book-of-wisdom” image. . . . 5
Shaughnessy defines context criticism in more specific terms as
a historical approach to literary criticism in which the target

text is interpreted within the context of a specific time and
place. . . . [For] the Zhouyi, the context will be shown to be the
royal court of the late Western Zhou dynasty. In practical terms
this will entail philological analysis based on epigraphic sources
whenever possible, close reading of the text to determine the
development of literary forms, and general sensitivity to the his-
torical circumstances and the degree of intellectual sophistica-
tion of the time. . . . [R]‌ather than as scripture composed by sages
and having a universal and eternal meaning, I consider the Book
of Changes to be the product of the human mind. . . .6
As with all languages, the meanings and sounds of Chinese have

changed greatly over the centuries. The most basic method of recon-
struction is to compare to the same words in other contemporaneous
texts. For the Zhouyi the closest comparison is with the Shijing (Book
of Songs). If the graph had an obviously different meaning in the com-
parison text, this could justify emending the meaning in the Zhouyi
accordingly, though a degree of restraint is appropriate. The oracle
bones are another important source of comparison, though far from
infallable, given that they antedate the Zhouyi by many centuries. The
excavated texts will likely prove useful in the future, but their full
implications for reconstruction of Western Zhou meanings are still
in the process of being explored.
To further understand how the Western Zhou meanings were
reconstructed, it is necessary to be aware of distinctive features of
the Chinese written language. The most important of these is the
5. Nielsen 2003: xvi.
6. Shaughnessy 1983: 14f.
125
most obvious: the language is written not alphabetically but with the

distinctive characters. Because these are only partially phonetic, the
sounds are particularly difficult to reconstruct. Despite the obviously
fact that no one now living has ever heard Western Zhou Chinese,
phonologists have reconstructed its sounds.7 While there is a rea-
sonable level of agreement among the experts, there can never be
absolute certainty as to the phonetics of a language not spoken for
millennia.
Because Chinese has a relative paucity of phonemes, the same
sound may have an unusually large number of different meanings,
which may or may not be written with different characters. This per-
mitted scribes to substitute a character of similar sound but differ-
ent meaning than the word intended, a phenomenon referred to as
phonetic loan or substitution.8 In substituting, scribes usually chose
a character that was simpler to write.
Reconstruction of the Western Zhou meanings was greatly
dependent on analysis of phonetic loans. Essential though this
method was, there were often so many homophones that it was by
no means certain which was intended by the scribe. Different choices
would often entirely change the meaning of a passage, as will be con-
sidered in the following discussion.
There are other mechanisms of meaning change. Civilizations
have a continuing need for new words, often met by using old words
in new contexts.9 Some examples from the Yijing are zi 子, originally
“child” but later “master,”10 and junzi 君子, originally “prince” but
later a person of good character.
7. The main basis for reconstruction has been so-called rime (or rhyme) tables,
which classify characters by initial and final sound. The pioneer in the West was the
great Swedish sinologist Bernhard Karlgren. Others have built upon Karlgren’s 1926
and 1957 works. A recent comprehensive, but quite technical, work is Schuessler 2009.
Somewhat more accessible is Sagart 1999.
8. An English equivalent would be writing “here” or even “hair” for “hear.”
9. An example is “net,” in the Zhou a device for catching fish, now short for
“Internet.”
10. In context of “master,” zi by itself refers specifically to Confucius, though of
course not in the Western Zhou.
126
CONTEXT CRITICISM CRITICIZED
The principles of context criticism form the theoretical basis of con-

temporary textual analysis. Yet theory can be applied in varied ways.
A problem with the modernist school is that its emendations often
seem overly imaginative or even arbitrary. As Shaughnessy points
out, “[T]‌he possibility of phonetic loans does not give the transla-
tor license to change the text at will.”11 Unfortunately, the early
twentieth-century Chinese philologists, and even Arthur Waley,12
did not always follow this sensible course and indulged themselves in
proposing emendations that did not fit the context. The usual justi-
fication for this approach is Bengel’s rule: “The more difficult reading
is to be preferred.”13
Context criticism has itself been criticized most vehemently by
Bradford Hatcher.14 While his approach is polemical, it provides a
healthy dose of skepticism. He particularly takes issue with a remark
of Rutt’s to the effect that the translator should only consider mean-
ings of the graph attested in other texts of similar date. Hatcher cor-
rectly points out that we know only a subset of the words in use at
such a remote time and so cannot automatically discard a possible
meaning simply because it is not found in other of the few surviv-
ing texts of that era. This is essentially the well-known principle that
“absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.” However, the princi-
ples of context criticism are not invariably applied with the degree of
rigidity that Hatcher seems to imply. His critique is a useful reminder
that the received version is the best single witness to the Zhouyi and
should not be amended unless substantive evidence supports the
change.

12. Waley 1933.
13. Johann Albrecht Bengel (1687‒1752) was a German scholar of the Greek New
Testament. He never consistently applied this rule, and modern statistical analysis has
refuted it as a general principle.
14. Hatcher 2009, 1: 16–42.
127
YUAN HENG LI ZHEN
A good place to start consideration of early meanings is the recur-

rent phrase yuan heng li zhen 元亨利貞. These are the first words of
the Zhouyi and constitute the entire judgment text of the first hexa-
gram, Qian . As such they were regarded as particularly significant.
All four recur in hexagrams 1, 2, 3, 17, 25, and 49, and parts of the
phrase appear in several other judgment texts and in a few line texts.
This four-character phrase and allusions to it would have been famil-
iar to all traditionally educated Chinese.
Initially the phrase meant something like, “Supreme [or ‘begin
the’] offering, beneficial to divine.” The function of the phrase is
clear: an invocation for the divination about to commence. This
would lead one to expect that all the chapters would begin with this
formula, but in actuality only a minority do. The reason for this is
not clear. Possibly, the phrase was regularly used to begin a divina-
tion and so would be understood without being written out. Another
possibility is that the judgment texts were conflated from multiple
sources, some of which were entirely formulaic while others were
fragments of more specific prognostications.
While yuan heng li zhen constitutes the entire judgment text of
the Qian hexagram, several other judgment texts have other words
inserted within this phrase. In the second hexagram, Kun , for
example, the judgment text is much longer. It begins with yuan heng
li, but three more characters are interposed between li and zhen, giv-
ing the phrase: 元亨利牝馬之貞. The additional words are translated
by Wilhelm-Baynes as the “perseverance (or constancy) of a mare.”
The entire text reads:
The RECEPTIVE brings about sublime success,

Furthering through the perseverance of a mare.
If the superior man [junzi 君子] undertakes something and tries
to lead,
He goes astray;
But if he follows, he finds guidance.
128
It is favorable to find friends in the west and south,

To forego friends in the east and north.
Quiet perseverance brings good fortune.15
The overall meaning of this passage is clear enough: this is a time to

be a patient follower rather than taking the initiative. As discussed in
chapter 3, because the hexagram is all yin lines and refers to a mare,
it was later taken as meaning that women should have a receptive
and subordinate role. However, the character for yin does not appear
in this chapter of the Western Zhou text. That all six lines are yield-
ing (broken) does suggest compliance or passivity, but if there is any
gender reference in the remaining lines, it is to the junzi, or cultivated
person, usually referring to a male. The divinatory meaning is that
this is a time for compliance, receptivity, acceptance; it is not a state-
ment about gender roles.
Goldin holds that our modern preference for gender-neutral lan-
guage should not mislead us into thinking that, in traditional usage,
junzi ever included women. The point is inarguable when referring
to Confucian writings. Goldin notes that Confucius only referred to
women once, in Lunyu 17:25, where they are likened to xiao ren—
that is, petty-minded, the antithesis of junzi.16 However the meaning
intended by the writer is not necessarily that assumed by the reader.
No doubt male users of the Changes took the junzi to be male, but
this need not have prevented a woman using the book and applying
statements about junzi to herself.17
The reference to a mare has already been discussed in chapter 3.
It has been puzzled over by many exegetes. Rutt also suggests that it

16. Goldin 1999: viii. As Goldin observes, for modern readers this “deprecating
view of women is often cited as the greatest weakness of the traditional Confucian
philosophers.”
17. There is some precedent because in the oracle-bone inscriptions, junzi most
often meant “prince,” but also could be “nephew” or “niece,” though the latter is less
frequent (Ricci, Dictionaire Ricci de characteres chinois, p. 2033). Given that in the
West gender-neutral language is quite recent, words such as “mankind” could refer to
women as well, though obviously they gave priority to men.
129
might refer to the sacrifice of a mare, though other judgment texts

do not contain apparent references to such a sacrifice. However, its
inclusion within the invocational phrase that announces the divina-
tion would seem to make this the most plausible meaning as sacrifice
was often performed with divinatory rituals.
Rutt also speculates that the phrase might be about the behav-
ior of mares, but nothing else substantiates this.18 Wang Bi made
the mare symbolic of female submissiveness, but he also took many
other opportunities to project his misogyny onto the Changes.
Unfortunately, his attitude was widely shared among Confucian
writers.19 While Kun is unquestionably about being compliant or sub-
missive, the Western Zhou meanings provide no real basis for this
hexagram being only about women.
By the time of the Zuozhuan, yuan heng li zhen, instead of a simple
invocation, had become a list of virtues, apparent in their recitation
by Lady Mu Jiang.20 (This interesting anecdote is discussed in detail
in chapter 2.) To a modern reader, attempts at translating these
Confucian virtues end up seeming confusingly vague. Here are some
of the ways this four-character phrase has been translated:
Legge: “ Great and originating, penetrating, correct
and firm.”21
Wilhelm-Baynes: “Sublime success, / Furthering through
perseverance.”22
Lynn: “ Fundamentality, prevalence, fitness and
constancy.”23
Though there is no doubt that the four terms represent desirable

attributes, it is hard to select exact equivalents from the English
18. Rutt 1996: 293. I have been told by several horse breeders that most mares
are not particularly docile.
19. Lynn 1994: 141f.
20. Rutt 1996, 187‒188.
21. Legge 1935: 13.
23. Lynn 1994: 129.
130
ethical lexicon.24 One reason is that Confucian ethics tends to speak

in terms of general character traits rather than specific virtues or
actions. Thus “fitness” likely refers to being able to act appropriately
in any situation that might arise. The junzi does not have a set of
rules, but chooses the appropriate response to events as they unfold,
often with the aid of the Yijing. As generally the case in the Yijing, the
ethical choice is often the one that leads to success.
In addition to these ethical correlations, the phrase yuan heng li
zhen was also assigned cosmological ones, though there is no evidence
of these in the Western Zhou layer. Thus yuan was later associated
with east, spring, wood, and qi (energy); heng, with south, summer,
fire, and form; and so on.25 (Correlative cosmology is discussed in
chapter 7.)
SINCERITY AND CAPTIVES
Perhaps the most striking of the reconstructed meanings is that of

the character fu 孚. In the received version this is taken to mean
“trustworthiness,” “sincerity,” or “confidence,” but in the Zhouyi it
means “captivity” or “captive,” generally a prisoner of war about to
be sacrificed.26 Later Chinese could distinguish different meanings
of the same phoneme by adding semantic determinants to the writ-
ten character. This seems to be what happened with fu. The “cap-
tivity” meaning was specified by the semantic determinate ren 人,
or “person” (人 + 孚 yielding 俘; that is, a person who is a captive).
Without the ren element, fu 孚 came to mean “sincerity.” Unpleasant
references to human sacrifice were covered over, and the texts could
be read as statements about trustworthiness.27 In most cases, the
24. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 4–6 gives useful suggestions in discussing these
terms.
25. A table of these correlations is found in Nielsen 2003: 319.
26. This was proposed by Waley 1933: 125f. and accepted by Kunst and Rutt in
their translations.
27. The former graph 孚 appears more than sixty times in the received Zhouyi, but
the second, 俘, not at all, suggesting that it was not in use in this early period.
131
meaning as “captive” fits better with the rest of the associated text.
Some scholars have offered tendentious arguments to explain why
a word meaning “captives” could have come to mean “sincerity”;
however, as is often the case with language drift, we simply cannot
account for the change.
Not all meaning changes are as extreme as with fu. Thus, hui 悔
(trouble) first denoted external misfortune, but later came to refer to
regret as an internal state.28 Here, as with yuan li heng zhen and fu, the
later meaning took on an ethical connotation not apparent earlier.
The restoration of references to sacrifice, though making for
unpleasant reading, often clarifies texts that are obscure in the
received version. An example is hexagram 23 Bo 剝 . Here are lines
1 and 2 of this chapter, followed by Legge’s translation.
剝床以足蔑貞凶
剝床以辨蔑貞凶
one overturning the couch by injuring its legs. . . . the destruc-
tion of all firm correctness, and there will be evil.
one overthrowing the couch by injuring its frame. (The injury
will go on to) the destruction of (all) firm correctness and there
will be evil.29
Given that beds with legs almost certainly did not exist in the Western
Zhou, the reference to the legs of a bed peeling is anachronistic and
highly peculiar. Kunst’s Western Zhou reconstruction translating bo
as “flaying” is, in contrast, quite clear:
Flay a ewe starting with the legs. Ominous in an exorcism

determination.
Flay a ewe starting with the knees. Ominous in an exorcism
determination.30
28. Kunst 1985: 159–161.

29. Legge 1899: 104
30. Kunst 1985: 285.
132
Why this is ominous (other than for the ewe) is not stated, but a plausi-
ble explanation is that the choice of a ewe for sacrifice was not pleasing
to the ancestors, hence the unfavorable prognostication. As mentioned
earlier, supernatural beings were inordinately picky about the choice of
sacrificial animal and the mode of killing. Read as describing the skin-
ning of an animal carcass, a frequent event in farming societies, the
phrases make complete sense.31 There have been other readings, such
as that of Gao Heng that the phrases refer to a man in bed with a bad
foot, knee, and so on.32 Despite some disagreement among the experts,
it seems virtually certain that the passage was originally about flaying,
not about damage to a bed or its occupant.
SACRIFICE AND THE ANCIENT WORLD
In the reconstructed Zhouyi, the frequent references to blood sacri-

fice of animals and also of humans give it a tone quite different from
the Yijing. To a modern reader, such practices seem barbarically cruel.
Yet it is by such content that the Zhouyi is most revealing of how
ancient life differed from our own. Because the meat from sacrificial
animals was consumed, the sacrifice can be seen as ritualization of
food preparation. Nonmeat foods and alcoholic beverages were also
offered to the spirits.33 In the ancient world, slaughter of animals was
ritualized because care was taken to ensure that virtually every act
would be acceptable to supernatural beings. In our modern world,
31. This reading does require the substitution proposed by Kunst 1985 of zang
牂 (ewe) for chuang 床(bed). However, the title character of this chapter in both the
received and Mawangdui versions is bo 剝, which means “flaying,” strong evidence that
an animal is the subject of the line texts.
32. Rutt 1996: 317.
33. What repels about animal sacrifice is not only the outmoded religious moti-
vation but that it renders visible what modern society prefers to keep hidden. Not
just modern society: Mencius himself suggested that refined persons should stay away
from the kitchen, lest the suffering of the animals spoil their appetite.
133
there are no such beings that demand to be propitiated with killing,34

but for the ancients the spirit world was everywhere contiguous with
their own.
The propriety and efficacy of blood sacrifice was rarely ques-
tioned, even by philosophers.35 Confucius did not condemn blood
sacrifice, but spoke of it only on rare occasions in the Lunyu. Other
sorts of early texts, such as the Baoshan, make frequent reference
to it, but later Confucian ones do not. Sacrifice was problematic for
Confucianism. One the one hand, it inflicted suffering; on the other,
it was an ancient rite and as such worthy of reverence. The solution
was simply not to refer to it directly. As with spirits, anomalies, and
rebellion, the Master simply avoided discussing blood sacrifice. That
Confucians were at least uncomfortable about this aspect of tradition
indicates that moral consciousness had advanced from the Western
Zhou. Sacrifice is still referred to in the Confucianized received Yijing,
but mostly euphemistically.36
TOXIC SEX IN THE ZHOUYI
Sexuality is yet another subject that Confucian texts tended to pass

over. We see this particularly with the Shijing, or Book of Songs, in
which quite overt erotic elements were explained away as being about
officials’ devotion to their ruler.37 A possible instance of altering
34. There is ethical concern, however, that animals be slaughtered “humanely,”

though such does not seem to have had much effect on the meat industry. Ancient
sacrificial methods were based on ritual concerns, not humanitarian ones.
35. Human sacrifice is, of course, murder whatever the beliefs that supported its
performance. Yet, while most are horrified by human sacrifice, contemporary polls
show that the majority of Americans favor capital punishment, which some consider
its modern equivalent.
36. Hacker 1993: 348 lists the references to sacrifice in the Wilhelm-Baynes
translation.
37. That philosophical texts did not refer to sex does not mean that there was
no audience for spicy reading material, as the Zuozhuan provides abundant instances.
Sexuality became central to Daoist imagery.
134
meaning to remove sexual implications is found in hexagram 18 Gu

蠱 . The title character Gu has a range of referents, generally nega-
tive ones, including calamity or venomous insects or snakes. Rutt
renders this graph as “mildew,” so that lines 1 and 2 become: “Mildew
for a deceased male ancestor/Mildew for a deceased female ancestor”
in which he follows Waley.38 Wilhelm-Baynes renders Gu as “Work
on What Has Been Spoiled (Decay),” presumably based on the upper
and lower components of the character (not the hexagram) which
mean “insect/worm” and “bowl,” respectively. Thus Gu would refer
to a bowl of food spoiled by insects, no doubt an extremely common
event in a world without refrigeration.
There is another more interesting possibility that does not seem
to have been noticed previously. Gu can also mean illness due to
excessive sexual activity. Whether it had this meaning in the Western
Zhou is speculative, but it certainly was used this way in later
Chinese medicine.39 The advantage of this reading is that it explains
line statements 1 through 5, which refer to ills caused by the father
and mother. It would have seemed plausible to have attributed illness
to the sexual activity of one’s parents, since this is what caused one
to be conceived.40
IMPORTUNATE WEEDS
The previous examples indicate how restoration of the presumed

Western Zhou meanings has clarified passages that in the received
version seem not to make sense. Not all such efforts have been per-
suasive, however. With hexagram 4 Meng 蒙 , we find a proposed
38. Rutt 1996: 241, 312‒314.

39. Jessieca Lee (2011: 163‒70) discusses in detail the beliefs about the gu
disease.
40. Though refuted by modern research, it is a common belief that intercourse
during pregnancy, a near-ubiquitous indulgence, can damage the fetus. The symptoms
traditional Chinese attributed to the effects of excessive or improper sexual activity do
not at all resemble those of sexually transmitted infectious diseases.
135
Western Zhou meaning that seems merely perverse. Meng is trans-

lated by Wilhelm-Baynes as “youthful folly,” clearly its received mean-
ing.41 Waley, perhaps the most influential of all translators of Chinese
into English, proposed that it originally meant “dodder,” a common
parasitic plant—that is, a weed.42 Here is the relevant section of the
judgment text as rendered by Wilhelm-Baynes:
匪我求童蒙童蒙求我初筮告再三瀆瀆則不告利貞

It is not I who seek the young fool;
The young fool seeks me. At the first oracle I inform him.
If he asks two or three times, it is importunity.
If he importunes, I give him no information.
Perseverance furthers.
Thus the received interpretation describes a situation, as common

now as three thousand years ago, of being annoyed when the same
question is repeated unnecessarily. It might refer to a youth asking
the diviner, or to an inquirer querying the Yijing. Either way, the
meaning is straightforward.
Rutt, following Waley and Kunst, significantly alters one word so
that the passage becomes;
“We do not seek the dodder; the dodder seeks us.”

When the first divination is auspicious
Repeated divinations are confusing, and are not auspicious.
Favorable augury.43
That a weed would seek someone is nonsensical. It is hard to avoid

the conclusion that it was Waley’s eminence, rather than his logic,
that led others to adopt this speculation. Rutt suggests that the
text might possibly be “a spell to avert misfortune after accidently
41. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 20‒24.

42. Waley 1933: 130f.
43. Rutt 1996: 227, 297, following Kunst 1985: 246‒247.
136
harming dodder,” a plant supposedly held in “superstitious respect.”44

The “superstition” in question is a gratuitous speculation. Given that
meng, meaning “ignorance,” is found as early as the Shangshu, or Book
of Historical Documents, there is no reason to select this perverse
reading over the received one.45
Turning meng from a character trait into a weed is not the only
instance of the modernist school garbling what seems clear. Once
the classics were taken down from their pedestal of infallibility, the
many obscurities of the Zhouyi gave license to philologists to indulge
in unbridled speculation. More recent scholarship has tended toward
being more conservative in not arbitrarily discarding the received
meanings.
IS THERE MORALITY IN THE ZHOUYI?
The reconstruction of Western Zhou meanings seems to deprive the

Zhouyi of the moralizing central to interpretation of the Yijing. This
has been argued most strongly by Richard Rutt:
If the Yijing has, in spite of itself, accrued a quasi-spiritual aura

and has been used for spiritual purposes, this is because its origi-
nal meaning was forgotten.46
For anyone who has regarded the Yijing as sagely, the reconstructed
Zhouyi text with its references to human sacrifice and the general
harshness of life in its era can be disillusioning. If there was once a
kinder, gentler stage of human society, it is not that of the Western
Zhou. Yet before concluding that the Zhouyi is an amoral work,
we need to remember that in the Warring States, and possibly by
the Spring and Autumn, the work had become a respected ethical
44. Rutt 1996: 297.

45. Schuessler 2009: 412; Ricci, Dictionaire Ricci de characteres chinois, p. 1324.
46. Rutt 1996: 51.
137
authority. This suggests that early roots of moral sensibility might lie
hidden in the Western Zhou layers.
So-called ancestor worship—rituals to prevent anger on the part
of deceased ancestors—can be seen as “proto-ethical.” Implicit in
concern for ancestral approval is the assumption that actions can be
right or wrong. This is also inherent in the notion of the junzi, who
whether or not a prince, is still a person whose behavior is exemplary.
The basic function of the Changes was to regulate action, particularly
by ensuring that it is appropriate for the time when it is carried out.
While this can be pure self-interest, nonetheless, it also assumes that
actions must be chosen properly, even if the ancient ideas of correct-
ness are vastly different from our own.
That divinatory practices were frequent and were directed to
ancestors or spirits also indicates an abiding concern for the transper-
sonal consequences of human actions.47 It was believed that deceased
ancestors were able to affect the well-being of the living. Their wishes
needed to be understood and heeded; divination was how these could
be known. This concern with supernatural consequences anticipated
what became the central idea of Chinese philosophy—that human
flourishing requires living in harmony with cosmic principles.
Already by the time of the oracle bones, divination was a means of
understanding what came to be known as the will of heaven (tian
ming 天命). As Confucius remarked at the conclusion of the Lunyu:
If you do not understand the will of Heaven, you will have no

way to be a cultivated person. If you do not understand proper
behavior, you will have nowhere to take your stand.48
The Zhouyi was a means of regulating one’s actions in accord with

transcendent principles, even though it did not state these princi-
ples directly. While we cannot find in the Zhouyi anything like the
47. The world’s major religions continue to teach that improper acts will be
judged, whether by a personal god, or by an impersonal heaven or karma.
48. Slightly modified from Watson 2007: 142.
138
elaborate ethical sensibility of the Lunyu or the Mencius, nor the

elements that Wilhelm and Jung found inspirational, we do get a
glimpse of the dawn of human self-consciousness.
Rather than the Western Zhou meanings being forgotten, the
meanings of the Changes evolved as did human ethical awareness.
People gradually became more reflective about their lives and how
they should be conducted. The more fully developed ethical thought
associated with the Yijing is considered in c hapters 6, 7, and 8. The
interpretation of other Chinese classics, notably the Shijing and the
Spring and Autumn Annals, similarly evolved. To observe the begin-
nings of ethical consciousness is one of opportunities provided to us
by the Book of Changes.
139
C hapter 6
The Ten Wings
For those who read the Wilhelm-Baynes translation, the Yijing text
must look confusing. In this, the most popular version, the Yijing
text is presented in three segments.1 It begins with the sixty-four
hexagrams, including the hexagram names, hexagram images,
judgment statements, and line statements. Just as readers have
begun to think of the Yijing as a “book of oracles,” giving guidance
about the unknown, they come upon two philosophical essays: the
Shuogua (Explanation of the Trigrams) and the Dazhuan (Great
Commentary). In the two essays, readers are asked to imagine the
hexagrams as metaphors for changes in the natural and human
worlds. Just as they now begin to develop a taste of the Yijing
as a “book of wisdom” about morality and metaphysics, they find
the reappearance of the book of oracles.2 This time, the return
of the oracles not only reaffirms the Yijing as a divination man-
ual; it also introduces five additional commentaries: Tuanzhuan
(Commentary to the Judgments), Xiangzhuan (Commentary to
the Images), Wenyan (Words of the Text), Xugua (Hexagrams in
Sequence), and Zagua (Hexagrams in Irregular Order). Blurring
the line between text and commentary, materials from these five
writings are inserted into each chapter as if they are part of the
core text.
1. Richard Wilhelm presents the Yijing text in three “books”: (I) the text, (II) the
document, and (III) the commentaries. See Wilhelm and Baynes 1967.
2. The terms “book of oracles” and “book of wisdom” are Wilhelm and Baynes
1967: xlix–lviii.
140
THE TEN WINGS
Why is the Yijing text so terse, incoherent, and repetitious? Why

are the core text and the commentarial materials not clearly sepa-
rated? Would the Yijing be more coherent if it was presented either
as a book of oracles (the core text) or a book of wisdom (the com-
mentarial materials)? Even if the Yijing must be understood as both
a divination manual and a philosophical treatise, why was the text
organized this way? These are the questions that have perplexed
and riveted many Yijing scholars since its canonization in 136 BCE.
However, for centuries, Chinese read the received Yijing text as a mix-
ture of the core text and the commentaries. Since three of the seven
commentaries (Tuanzhuan, Xiangzhuan, and Dazhuan) are divided
into two parts, the commentarial materials are known collectively as
the Ten Wings: the ten supplemental writings that help the Yijing core
text to “fly.” As a Confucian classic, the standard Yijing text is often
divided in two parts: (1) the sixty-four hexagrams combined with
Tuanzhuan, Xiangzhuan, and Wenyan; (2) an appendix consisting of
Dazhuan, Shuogua, Zagua, and Xugua.3 Although not as cumbersome
as in Wilhelm’s translation, the standard Chinese Yijing text itself is
composite and layered.
In this chapter, we will examine the importance of the Ten Wings
in the making of the Yijing received text. To do so, we will keep in
mind the time gap between the Western Zhou core text (possibly
as early as ca. 1100 BCE) and the Ten Wings (fifth to second cen-
tury BCE).4 But our main concern here is not to return the Yijing
to its original form, the oracles.5 Rather, our goal is to evaluate the
3. Certainly more systematic, the order of the Yijing text in Lynn 1994 is uncon-
ventional. Lynn reverses the order of the received text by putting the Dazhuan,
Shuogua, Xugua, and Zagua ahead of the core text.
4. Aided by recent archaeological discoveries, historians have developed more
accurate dating of the Ten Wings. In general, scholars accept that the Ten Wings were
written by different authors during the Warring States and the Western Han periods,
roughly from the fifth to the second century BCE. For the dates of the Ten Wings, see
Smith 2008: 31–48.
5. Since the 1920s, modern Chinese scholars have focused on separating the
original oracles of the Yijing (also known as the Zhouyi) from the canonized text of
the Western Han period. In the name of critical scholarship, this separation of the
oracles from the commentarial materials is to “clean up” the anachronism in the Yijing
141
momentous transformation of the core text after the addition of

the Ten Wings. Recent archaeological discoveries (especially the
silk documents in Mawangdui) show that there were other com-
mentarial materials contemporaneous to the Ten Wings.6 It is clear
that their inclusion into the Yijing received text was by no means
accidental.
To understand the importance of the Ten Wings, we will examine
them from two angles. First, we will take seriously that the received
Yijing text was a product of the early Western Han period (ca. second
century BCE). In its classical form, the textual body of the Yijing was
what distinguished it from its earlier form and endowed it with the
authority of the canon. Thus, our first task is to find out how the
Ten Wings transformed the original oracles into a system of signs for
moral and metaphysical discussion. Of the Ten Wings, three pieces of
writings were crucial in the transformation: Tuanzhuan, Xiangzhuan,
and Wenyan. We will focus on these three pieces of writings in the
first part of this chapter.
Second, as evidenced in the mixing of text and commentary, the
received Yijing text is purposely a repository of historical data of its
own transformation. As such, the transformation from divination
to philosophy was never a replacement of one mode of knowledge
with the other. Rather, it was what Mark Edward Lewis calls “the
culmination of pre-imperial scholastic studies of the Yi [Changes]”
that expanded divination into a philosophical enterprise.7 As such,
the transformation was a synthesis of the old and the new. Our sec-
ond task is to find out how the Ten Wings created a book of wisdom
that acknowledged its origin in divination. To trace this process, we
will focus on the remaining four writings of the Ten Wings: Dazhuan,
Shuogua, Xugua, and Zagua.
received text. For consideration of the restored early meanings, see c hapter 5. For a
summary of this modernist approach, see Rutt 1996 and Nylan 2001: 208–224.
6. For a summary of recent archaeological discoveries of the Yijing text, see Smith
2008: 48–56.
7. Lewis 1999: 243–251; see also Nylan 2001: 224–228.
142
THE TEN WINGS
EXPL AINING THE ORACLES
In the received Yijing text, each of the original sixty-four chapters con-
tains three elements: the hexagram images, the judgment statements,
and the line statements. Each hexagram image is an assemblage of
six lines in the shape of either a straight line (—) or a broken line
(‒ ‒). For instance, the images of the first two hexagrams Qian (The
Creative) and Kun (Receptive) are respectively and . Each hexa-
gram is accompanied by a judgment statement that often, but not
always, summarizes the significance of that chapter. For example, the
judgment statement of Qian describes the hexagram with four archaic
words: yuan (beginning), heng (success), li (benefits), and zhen (perse-
verance). In Wilhelm-Baynes translation, the judgment statement is
rendered as “the Creative works sublime success, furthering through
perseverance.”8 The translation has already smoothed over the ambi-
guity and filled in the ellipses. In the original statement, there is no
clear syntax linking the four words. We cannot tell whether the four
words should be read as four separate situations (yuan, heng, li, zhen)
or a pair of two-word phrases (yuanheng lizhen) as we read in Wilhelm’s
translation. (See c hapter 5 for further details.)
Similar ambiguity is also found in hexagram line statements.
The commentary to each line statement explains the characteristic
of a particular hexagram line. For example, the line statement for
the first line of Qian hexagram is: “Nine at the beginning: Hidden
dragon, do not Act.”9 “Nine” refers to the yang nature of the hexa-
gram line, represented by a straight line. “At the beginning” describes
the position of the yang line, which is at the bottom of the hexagram.
“Hidden dragon, do not act” suggests the proper course of action for
someone who is a yang at the bottom of a structure. Although more
concrete, the line statement Wilhelm-Baynes is still full of ambiguity.
It is not clear what “hidden dragon” means and how to avoid taking
an aggressive course of action.

143
Of the seven commentarial writings of the Ten Wings, Tuanzhuan,

Xiangzhuan, and Wenyan focus on the images and statements of the
original oracles. Tuanzhuan offers commentary on the judgment texts
of the sixty-four hexagrams. Divided in two parts, part I of Tuanzhuan
comments on the first thirty hexagrams; part II, the remain-
ing thirty-four hexagrams. Xiangzhuan explains the images of the
sixty-four hexagrams. Also divided in two parts, part I of Xiangzhuan
focuses on the images of the sixty-four hexagrams; part II, the images
of all of the 384 lines. Unlike Tuanzhuan and Xiangzhuan, Wenyan does
not cover all of the sixty-four hexagrams. It only discusses the first
two hexagrams, Qian and Kun, treating them as the archetypes of the
hexagrams. Together, the three commentarial writings give the ora-
cles new meanings. They view each hexagram as a structure of space,
and the six lines as symbols of time. In so doing, they not only create
a temporal-spatial framework to discuss the hexagrams, but also turn
the oracles into fields of action for moral cultivation.
Some scholars suggest that in the original oracles, the concepts
of time and space were already implied.10 For example, in Qian, the
six lines of the hexagrams are presented as a dragon in various posi-
tions—a “hidden dragon” in line 1; an “appearing dragon” in line
2; a “wavering dragon” in line 4; a “flying dragon” in line 5; and an
“arrogant dragon” in line 6. In addition, there is a correspondence
between the dragon’s position and a proper course of action: the
“hidden dragon” should avoid taking aggressive action; the “appear-
ing dragon” and the “flying dragon” should meet “the great man”;
the “wavering dragon” should take the flight over the depths; and
the “arrogant dragon” will have cause to repent. It appears that each
position in a hexagram offers both opportunity and limitation, and a
proper cause of action requires a keen awareness of what is possible
and impossible in a given moment.
Nevertheless, in the Western Zhou texts, not every hexagram
line is clearly linked to the concepts of time and space. Nor is it
10. See Dai 1988: 23–29. Dai’s book is one of the best scholarly writings on the
Ten Wings. It offers a detailed discussion of all seven writings of the Ten Wings.
144
THE TEN WINGS
clear when the six lines of a hexagram came to be seen collectively

as a temporal-spatial structure. What the authors of the Tuanzhuan,
Xiangzhuan, and Wenyan commentaries did was make time and space
the two most important concepts in reading an oracle. Take, for
instance, Tuanzhuan. In explaining the judgment text of Qian, the
author of this commentary interprets the four words (yuan heng li
zhen) as a pair of two-word phrases. Hence, the Tuanzhuan author
renders yuanheng as “the sublime Creative” that fills the world
with animate and inanimate beings, and lizhen as “the Way of the
Creative” that gives the manifold beings their specific character.11
More important, building on the “dragon” metaphor, the Tuanzhuan
author asks readers to “mount on the six dragons” by learning about
the beginning and end of an event, and completing a task by follow-
ing the six stages of a hexagram.12 In this way, Qian is given a clear
temporal-spatial structure. Temporally, Qian has a beginning and
an end (counting from the bottom to the top); spatially, Qian is a
field of action of six “dragons” in meeting the challenges of different
circumstances.
The concepts of time and space become even more prominent
in Xiangzhuan. In interpreting the six line statements of Qian, the
author of Xiangzhuan explicitly links them to the temporal-spatial
grid of a hexagram. Regarding the “hidden dragon” in the first line,
the Xiangzhuan author focuses on space by attributing the hidden
dragon’s inaction to its low position in the hexagram. Concerning
the “appearing dragon” in line 2, the Xiangzhuan author turns atten-
tion to time by emphasizing the opportunity for the “appearing
dragon” to display “the influence of its character.” As for the “pru-
dent superior man” in line 3, the Xiangzhuan author returns to the
concept of space by focusing on “the right path” that a superior man
must find in achieving moral perfection. As regards the “wavering
dragon” in line 4, the Xiangzhuan author stresses the spatial meta-
phor “the depths” to underscore the dragon’s determination to

145
overcome obstacles. Concerning the “flying dragon” in line 5, the

Xiangzhuan author returns to the concept of time by emphasizing
the splendid work the dragon has done to win widespread admira-
tion and trust. Finally, regarding “the arrogant dragon” in the top
line, the Xiangzhuan author traces its “repentance” to the comple-
tion of the task at hand, leaving no room for further development.13
As a whole, the Xiangzhuan author gives concrete meanings to the
archaic terms of the oracles, such as the hidden dragon, the fly-
ing dragon, and the arrogant dragon. More important, the author
transforms a hexagram into a field of action defined by time and
space.
Whereas the authors of Tuanzhuan and Xiangzhuan transform
hexagrams into a field of action with specific temporal and spa-
tial significance, the author of Wenyan imbue hexagrams with clear
moral messages. For instance, on the judgment text of Qian, the
Wenyan author interprets the four words (yuan heng li zhen) as four
different accomplishments of a superior man: promoting good-
ness, gathering together of all that is beautiful, harmonizing things
through justice, and achieving results in actions. Furthermore,
the Wenyan author equates these four accomplishments to the
four cardinal virtues—humanity (ren), rituals (li), righteousness
(yi), and perseverance (zhen).14 This moralization of Qian becomes
even more elaborate in the Wenyan author’s discussion of the six
“dragons.” Regarding the “hidden dragon” in the line 1, the Wenyan
author sees it as a superior man in hiding to preserve his moral
integrity. Concerning the “appearing dragon” in line 2, the Wenyan
author interprets it as a superior man who decides to show his
moral achievements in a promising situation. As regards to the
“day-and-night agony” in line 3, the Wenyan author takes it to
mean the steadfast moral cultivation of a superior man. As for the
“wavering dragon” in line 4, the Wenyan author understands it as
13. For the translation of the Xiang II comments on Qian, see Wilhelm and Baynes
1967: 373–375.
14. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 376–377.
146
THE TEN WINGS
a superior man struggling to make progress in moral cultivation.

Concerning “the flying dragon” in line 5, the Wenyan author sees it
as a metaphor for a superior man bringing justice and harmony to
the world. Finally, regarding the “arrogant dragon” in the top line,
the Wenyan author understands it as a superior man losing high
position in society and the support from the people. All in all, the
Wenyan author is determined to turn Qian into a treatise on moral
cultivation.15
BUILDING A SYSTEM OF SIGNS
Undoubtedly a significant step in removing ambiguity and abstruse-

ness in the oracles, the authors of Tuanzhuan, Xiangzhuan, and
Wenyan took each oracle as a separate unit. They did not join hexa-
grams to form pairs or sequences, nor did they view the sixty-four
hexagrams as one gigantic system. In many ways, their failure to link
hexagrams limited their interpretations of the oracles. A clear exam-
ple is hexagram 64 Weiji (Before Completion).
In interpreting Weiji, one key question is how to explain the enig-
matic judgment text: “Before Completion, success.”16 At first glance,
the statement seems to be contradictory because it is impossible to
count something incomplete as a success. Moreover, if we look at the
hexagram lines of Weiji , they are clearly out of order. All the yang
lines in the hexagram (lines 1, 3, 5) are occupied by yin, and all the
yin lines in the hexagram (lines 2, 4, 6) are occupied by yang. Given
the fact that the hexagram lines of Weiji are completely out of order,
Weiji should be facing problems. Why does the judgment statement
declare Weiji a success?
To explain this enigma, the Tuanzhuan author focuses attention
on the yin-yang correspondence among the six hexagram lines. The
author argues that Weiji is potentially a success because “the firm and

147
the yielding [of the six hexagram lines] nevertheless correspond.”17

To an extent, this explanation makes sense. Although the hexagram
lines of Weiji are out of place, they resonate with one another due to
yin-yang correspondence. The yin first line resonates with the yang
fourth line; the yang second line resonates with the yin fifth line; and
the yin third line resonates with the yang top line. All in all, all the
six lines are perfectly paired, and their yin-yang correspondence can
be a potent force to make Weiji successful. However, the Tuan author
is silent on how to turn the yin-yang correspondence of the six lines
into a potent force, and how that force can make Weiji a success.
While the author of Tuanzhuan offers an acceptable explana-
tion, the author of the Xugua (Hexagrams in Sequence) gives a more
powerful answer. Calling attention to Weiji being the last hexagram
in the received text, the Xugua author argues that Weiji has to be
successful because “things cannot exhaust themselves.”18 In other
words, the “success” of Weiji does not refer to the hexagram itself,
but to the entire system of sixty-four hexagrams. Upon reaching its
end, the Xugua author argues, the system of hexagrams must start
anew. In this sense, Weiji must be successful by virtue of its position
in the system. As the last hexagram, Weiji finishes one cycle of the
sixty-four hexagrams and ushers in a new one. Of course, one must
accept the hexagram sequence of the received text to fully appreciate
the argument of the Xugua author. Nevertheless, the Xugua author’s
argument shows that as commentators became more sophisticated
in unraveling the hidden meanings of the oracles, they had to move
beyond individual oracles and to look for connections among them.
Recent archaeological discoveries as discussed in c hapter 4 show
that there were other ways to organize the sixty-four hexagrams,
and the sequence of hexagrams in the received text is, at best, one
possible option.19 In fact, within the Ten Wings, the author of Zagua
(Hexagrams in Irregular Order) does not strictly follow the hexagram

19. Xing 2005: 36–57.
148
THE TEN WINGS
sequence of the received text. Particularly, the Zagua author is fond

of grouping hexagrams in pairs. For instance, hexagrams 1 Qian
(The Creative) and 2 Kun (Receptive) are grouped together because
of their opposite nature; 41 Sun (Decrease) and 42 Yi (Increase) are
paired because they are temporal markers indicating the beginnings
of prosperity and decline; 49 Ge (Political Change) and 50 Ding (The
Cauldron) are linked because they are two crucial moments in mak-
ing drastic political changes; 30 Li (Clinging) and 29 Kan (Abysmal)
are teamed up because they are opposite in pointing at direction.20
Most significantly, the Zagua author does not end the discussion of
hexagrams with Weiji. Rather, the commentator ends with 43 Kuai
(Resolution).
Creating more interpretative options notwithstanding, the Zagua
author’s method of pairing hexagrams is limited and limiting. One
shortcoming of the method is that it does not provide a coherent
picture of all the oracles. Certainly, it is helpful to have two or more
hexagrams linked together for a particular purpose, but the scope
is too small when there are altogether sixty-four hexagrams in the
Yijing. And it is to build such a holistic system that the Xugua author
devotes his attention.
The Xugua is divided into two parts. In part I, beginning with
the Qian and Kun hexagrams, the sequence tells a cosmic tale of the
creation of heaven and earth, the production of the myriad beings,
and the founding of human community. Midway through the cosmic
tale, the focus is shifted to the role of human beings in sustaining a
permanent community. As human community becomes increasingly
complex, the sequence shows that various institutions—food pro-
duction, legal system, rituals—have to be developed to create a stable
20. In the Wilhelm’s translation, Zagua is inserted in the sixty-four hexagrams.

Thus, it is hard to see the main argument of the Zagua author. To understand how the
Zagua author organizes the hexagrams, it is better to consult Richard John Lynn’s
translation. See Lynn 1994: 113–116. The commentator Wang Bi, on whose commen-
tary Lynn bases his translation of the Yijing, was an expert of using Zagua in interpret-
ing the hexagrams. For an example of how Wang Bi used Zagua, see his commentary
on 49 Ge and 50 Ding; Lynn 1994: 444–459.
149
society. The second half of Xugua begins with 31 Xian (Influence) and
32 Heng (Permanence) that signify the partnership between husband
and wife in creating a family. When reaching 48 Jing (Well), 49 Ge
(Political Change), and 50 Ding (The Cauldron), the story moves from
stabilizing a family to building a stable government. When reach-
ing 63 Jiji (After Completion) and 64 Weiji (Before Completion), the
story ends with human determination to continue to build a sustain-
able society for generations to come.
In Xugua, as mentioned earlier, hexagram 64 Weiji (Before
Completion) is both an end and a beginning. In terms of its posi-
tion, the hexagram stands at the end of the Xugua sequence; in
terms of its function, it symbolizes the need to restart the process
of creation because “things cannot exhaust themselves.”21 Thus, as
the last hexagram of the sequence, Weiji is fittingly “crossing incom-
plete.” Its incompleteness necessitates another round of creation
and generation. As such, the human ending of the Xugua points to
the cosmic beginning of the text, and the linear progression of the
cosmological-cum-political saga turns into endless cycles of genera-
tion and regeneration.
This theme of endless cycles of generation and regeneration
receives further elaboration in the Shuogua (Explanation of the
Trigrams). Thus far, the writings of the Ten Wings that we have dis-
cussed are all directed at images and statements of the oracles. In
contrast, the Shuogua author focuses on the meanings of the eight
trigrams that are paired to form the hexagrams. To the Shuogua
author, the eight trigrams (Qian, Kun, Zhen, Shun, Kan, Li, Gan,
Dui) are abstract symbols with a wide variety of meanings, includ-
ing natural and human forces, animate and inanimate beings, colors
21. Wilhelm is more accurate in translating the Xugua statement on Weiji (wu
buke qiong ye 物不可窮也). By rendering the Xugua statement as “things cannot
exhaust themselves,” Wilhelm captures the double meaning of Weiji as being both
the end and the beginning of the sixty-four hexagram sequence. See Wilhelm and
Baynes 1967: 714. In contrast, usually reliable in translation, Richard John Lynn less
clearly conveys the double meaning of Weiji. His translation of the Xugua statement is
plain: “with which the hexagrams come to an end.” See Lynn 1994: 110.
150
THE TEN WINGS
and products (figure 6.1). Under certain circumstances, the eight tri-
grams can be symbols of the different states of mind: “Qian is strong.
Kun is yielding. Zhen means movement. Shun is penetrating. Kan is
dangerous. Li means dependence. Gan means stand-still. Dui means
pleasure.”22 In another situation, the eight trigrams can be symbols
of different animals: “Qian acts in the horse, Kun in the cow, Zhen in
the dragon, Shun in the cock, Kan in the pig, Li in the pheasant, Gan
in the dog, Dui in the sheep.”23 In yet another situation, the eight
trigrams can be symbols of different parts of body: “Qian manifests
itself in the head, Kun in the belly, Zhen in the foot, Shun in the thigh,
Kan in the ear, Li in the eye, Gan in the hand, Dui in the mouth.”24
By viewing trigrams (and, by extension, hexagrams) as abstract
symbols, the Shuogua author gains freedom in interpreting the
oracles. For instance, the Shuogua author has no need to restrict his
commentary to a particular trigram or a specific group of hexagrams.
Instead, the Shuogua author can indulge in free association in pick-
ing and choosing oracles. Taking full advantage of this freedom, the
Shuogua author addresses broad and general topics about the Yijing,
such as the purpose of the Yijing as a text and how to use the hexa-
grams for moral cultivation.
Regarding the use of the hexagrams for moral cultivation, the
Shuogua author emphasizes the function of the oracles as signs.
According to the Shuogua author, the ancient holy sages invented
the trigrams and hexagrams as symbols to represent changes in the
natural and human worlds. As symbols, the Shuogua author argues,
the trigrams and hexagrams are visual images by which one can
achieve three tasks: “to think through the order of the outer world”
(qiongli), “to explore one’s nature to the deepest core” (jinxing), and
“to arrive at an understanding of fate” (zhiyu ming).25 These three
steps—attaining an understanding of the phenomenal world, one’s
22. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 273, with modification.

151
inner self, and one’s destiny in the universe—entail two processes of

spiritual awakening. One is from the outside to the inside: Through
gaining an empirical knowledge of the phenomenal world, one devel-
ops a deeper understanding of oneself. The other is from the inside to
the outside: After developing a deeper understanding of oneself, one
has a better sense of his or her role in the universe.
In both processes, the trigrams and hexagrams serve as a medium
between the inner self and the phenomenal world, the subject and
the object. As symbols, the Shuogua author argues, the trigrams and
hexagrams mimic the “way of heaven” (tian zhi dao) with the inter-
mixing of the yin and yang lines, the “way of earth” (di zhi dao) with
the correspondence of the firm and yielding forces, and the “way of
man” (ren zhi dao) with the practice of the virtues of humanity and
righteousness. In more precise terms, the Shuogua author contends,
the six lines of a hexagram (as a coupling of two trigrams) represent
the “three potencies” (san cai) that permeates the universe: heaven,
earth, and humankind. In a trigram, the “three potencies” are repre-
sented by the three lines—the top line symbolizes the heaven; the
middle line, humankind; and the bottom line, earth. In a hexagram,
these three realms are represented in the six lines—the fifth line and
the top line symbolize heaven; the third and fourth lines, human-
kind; and the first and second lines, earth. In such manner, hexa-
grams are no longer records of divination, but symbols for moral and
philosophical meditation. They reflect not only the principle of the
phenomenal world, but also the intricacy of the human mind. Above
all, they give guidance to cope with changes in the natural and human
worlds.
ESTABLISHING THE AUTHORITY OF

THE CANON
Yet, despite the philosophical sophistication, the Shuogua author

does not give the Yijing an aura of a canonized text. Certainly, canon-
ization depends on the power of the rulers. For the Yijing, it was the
152
THE TEN WINGS
decision of the Western Han emperors who, in creating a state ortho-

doxy, gave the text the august status as one of the “Five Confucian
Classics.”26 Nevertheless, canonization required validation. No mat-
ter how powerful the rulers might be, justification had to be made to
support the authority of the canon.
To validate Yijing was not easy. First, the Yijing was a composite
text consisting of both the oracles and the commentarial writings. By
itself, the textual body was the evidence of what Mark Edward Lewis
calls “the co-optation of the Yi [Changes] text by philosophers.”27
Thus, the canonization of the Yijing was a declaration of the victory of
the philosophers over the mantic professionals. It signified the shift
of power away from religious leaders to educators and administra-
tors. To validate this social and cultural change, the whole process of
transforming the oracles into moral and philosophical symbols had
to be accounted for. Second, after canonization, the Yijing must be
“sealed,” in which no more new writing would be admitted.28 As such,
every part of the Yijing—trigrams, hexagrams, line statements, and
the Ten Wings—had to be explained, defended, and above all legiti-
mized. To legitimize the sealed text, explanations had to be given as
to why it was self-sufficient, and why there was no need to include
additional materials.
DAZHUAN: THE GREAT COMMENTARY
Of the seven writings of the Ten Wings, the Dazhuan (Great

Commentary) is most philosophical and thereby most suitable to val-
idate the authority of the Yijing. A collection of passages on a variety of
subjects including cosmology, numerology, ethics, and metaphysics,
26. For the history of Western Han canonization, see Nylan 2001: 31–41.
27. Lewis 1999: 241.
28. In discussing the process of canonization, Wolfgang Iser distinguishes two
kinds of canon: an open canon and a closed canon. Whereas the former (e.g., a liter-
ary canon) continues to accept new authors or new texts, the latter (e.g., the Jewish
scripture) is sealed after canonization. See Iser 2000: 13–40.
153
the Dazhuan—also known as Xici (Appended Statements)—has

attracted considerable attention in the West. To some scholars, the
Dazhuan makes claims that the Yijing is a microcosm of the uni-
verse, teaching readers how to “cope with, or even dwell within,
our confusing world of change.”29 To others, the Dazhuan creates
a “meta-interpretation” and a “metaphysical framework” for the
Yijing.30 While these observations are insightful and significant, they
are not the most important characteristics of Dazhuan because simi-
lar themes are also found in other writings of the Ten Wings. What
truly separate Dazhuan from the rest of the Ten Wings are three new
ideas: the multiple authorship of the Yijing by writers from both
the mantic and philosophical traditions; the wide variety of uses
of the Yijing for religious, political, and moral purposes; and the
self-sufficiency of the Yijing because of its rich textual body. Although
there is no proof that these new ideas were related to the canoniza-
tion of the Yijing, they were essential to validating the authority of
the Yijing as a canonized text.
Regarding the authorship of the Yijing, the Dazhuan author or
authors provide a mythical account of the origins of Chinese civili-
zation. It begins with a list of sagely writers who jointly composed
the Yijing in three periods of time: the prehistoric age, the transition
from the Shang to the Zhou dynasty (ca. tenth century BCE), and the
lifetime of Confucius (551–479 BCE). Also known as the three antiq-
uities—the early antiquity (shanggu), the middle antiquity (zhonggu),
and the recent antiquity (jinggu)—the three periods covered the
creation of civilization, the founding of the agrarian kingship, and
the establishment of a family-based society. The Dazhuan describes
how the hexagrams were created and used by mythological figures
such as Fu Xi, Shen Nong (Divine Husbandman), Huang Di (Yellow
Emperor), King Yao, and King Shun.31 The Dazhuan also recounts the
myth that King Wen composed the judgments and the line texts to
29. Peterson 1982: 67–116; see also Lewis 1999: 255–256.

30. Nylan 2001: 230–231; Smith 2008: 38.
31. Dazhuan II.2; Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 328–338.
154
THE TEN WINGS
warn against the dangers of his times.32 (In alternate versions of this
myth, King Wen wrote the judgments, but the Duke of Zhou wrote
the line texts.) As regards Confucius’s authorship of the Yijing, this
is suggested by the Dazhuan summaries of what “the Master” said
about various hexagram lines. In one of the summaries, the Dazhuan
shows that “the Master” was plausibly Confucius (or a follower of
Confucius), who quoted the first line of Fu 24 (Return) to praise Yan
Hui’s steadfastness in moral cultivation:
The Master said: Yen Hui [Yan Hui] is one who will surely attain
it. . . . [H]‌e never commits the error the second time. In the
Changes it is said: “Return from a short distance. No need for
remorse. Great good fortune.”33
Although not explicitly stated, the genealogy of authors in the

Dazhuan was aimed at balancing the mantic and philosophical heri-
tages of the Yijing. On the one hand, by tracing the origin of the Yijing
to mythological figures, the Dazhuan author showed respect to man-
tic professionals who used the oracles for divination. In particular,
the mythological figure Fu Xi was credited for inventing trigrams and
hexagrams after carefully observing “the images in heaven,” “the pat-
terns on earth,” “the marking of birds and beasts,” “the adaptations
in regions,” and the practices “directly from himself and indirectly
from objects.”34 By honoring Fu Xi as the creator of the diagrams,
the Dazhuan author further lent credibility for use of the Yijing as a
means of divination.
On the other hand, by highlighting the later developments in the
Western Zhou period (1050‒771 BCE), the Dazhuan author honored
the philosophers who transformed the oracles into tools for moral
and metaphysical meditation. Especially in honoring King Wen and
Confucius, the Dazhuan author called attention to the two important
32. Dazhuan II.12; Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 352–353.

33. Dazhuan II.5, line 12; Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 342.
155
stages in this transformation—the political use of the Yijing in times

of chaos and dynastic changes (King Wen) and the moral use of the
Yijing in times of peace and stability (Confucius). As the latest addi-
tion to the Yijing, the political and moral readings freed the text from
the uses of prehistoric times, when the oracles were merely a lan-
guage to discuss “nets and baskets in hunting and fishing,” “[the]
laying open the earth with a plow,” or “[holding] a market.”35 They
broadened the appeal of the Yijing by making it useful to the more
complex society of the Zhou.
When the three uses—the divinatory, the political, and the
moral—were combined, the Yijing became truly multidimensional.
For this reason, the Dazhuan author repeatedly describes the Yijing as
being “vast and great” (guangda 廣大). The Dazhuan author explains
Yijing’s “vastness and greatness” by discussing how it covers “what
is far” (such as nature and politics) and “what is near” (such as fam-
ily and personal issues).”36 The Dazhuan author stresses the “fourfold
use” of the Yijing: in public speech, one learns from the sagely ver-
balizations; in daily practice, one follows the concept of change; in
casting bronze vessels as symbols of political authority, one consults
the hexagram images; and in contemplating future course of action,
one reads the oracles. With the fourfold use, the Dazhuan author
declares that the Yijing is what “has enabled the holy sages to reach all
depths and to grasp the seeds of all things.”37 The Dazhuan author also
links the “vastness and greatness” of the Yijing to the “three poten-
cies” (san cai 三才): the way of heaven, the way of humankind, and
the way of earth. Although the point has already made in Shuogua,
the Dazhuan author goes a step further by declaring that the “three
potencies” in the Yijing make it “completely contained” (xibei 悉備).38
By reiterating the “vastness and greatness” of the Yijing, the
Dazhuan author asserts that the present textual body—6 trigrams,

36. Dazhuan II.6; Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 301.
37. Dazhuan II.10; Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 315 (emphasis added).
156
THE TEN WINGS
64 hexagrams, 64 judgment statements, 384 line statements, and

the Ten Wings—is all we need to ponder the manifold changes in the
natural and human worlds. To support this argument, the Dazhuan
author stresses the multiple readings of the Yijing text. For instance,
the readers can use the trigrams and hexagrams as visual images
to recognize “the signs in heaven” and “the lines of the earth.” The
observation would help them to “come to know the circumstances
of the dark and the light.”39 The Yijing readers can also contemplate
the verbalizations of the sagely authors to be “content with [their]
circumstances and genuine in [their] kindness, therefore [they] can
practice love.”40 For this reason, the Yijing is a different book to differ-
ent people. For readers who are kind, the Yijing becomes a book about
kindness. For the readers who are wise, the Yijing becomes a book of
wisdom. Even for ordinary people, the Yijing would be useful for their
daily life, even though they might not be aware of it. Because of these
multiple uses, the Dazhuan author concludes, the Yijing “possesses
everything in complete abundance” and “renews everything daily.”41
As such, the textual body of the Yijing is sealed. From this point on,
new meanings would be created by new interpretations, not by the
addition of more material to canonized text.
39. Dazhuan I.4 and I.5; Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 294.

157
C hapter 7
Cosmology
Like other classics and scriptures, the Yijing was both blessed and
burdened by canonization. On the one hand, after being recognized
as one of the “Five Classics” of Confucianism in 136 BCE, the Yijing
was blessed by its august status as a revered text. Augmented by state
power, it was taught at the imperial academy, the highest academic
institution in the Chinese empire. Special “erudite scholars” (boshi
博士) were appointed to study the Yijing and to counsel the emperors
on using the classic to govern the country. In supporting the state,
the Yijing was frequently used for a variety of sociopolitical purposes,
such as adjusting calendars, explaining seasonal changes, and design-
ing musical notes.1 Directly tied to rulership, mastering the Yijing
became a route to glory and power; Yijing specialists were regularly
appointed to government positions. As a result, Yijing studies blos-
somed throughout the Han dynasty (206 BCE‒220 CE). During these
four hundred years, special interpretative methods and scholarly tra-
ditions were developed to explicate the Yijing. These methods and
traditions formed a distinctive style of interpretation known today
as the “Han Yi” 漢易 (studies of the Changes of the Han Dynasty), or
the xiangshu 象數 (images and numbers) tradition.”2
On the other hand, the Yijing was burdened by canonization. To
control the interpretation of the classic, the Han emperors authorized
1. For a summary of the uses of the Yijing after canonization, see Nylan
2001: 307–362; Lewis 1999: 337–362.
2. Depending on which historical accounts one use, during the Han dynasty there
were three or five Yijing interpretative traditions. For a summary of the Han Yijing
studies, see Nielsen 2003: 99‒102, 302; Henderson 1991: 38‒50.
158
Cosmology
an official version and closely monitored Yijing studies.3 From 172 to

178 CE, to make certain that the official version would be perma-
nently preserved, the Han rulers carved the classic on steles in the
imperial academy.4 Similar to other Confucian classics, the so-called
official version of the Yijing changed abruptly when the Western/
Early Han (206 BCE‒9 CE) was succeeded by the Eastern/Later Han
(25‒220). After the change in political leadership, the “New Text”
edition adopted by the Western/Early Han was replaced by the “Old
Text” edition discovered during the Eastern/Later Han period.5
Regardless of the edition, however, Yijing scholars had to accept
the official version as given throughout the Han dynasty. Instead
of introducing new materials into the Yijing text, they had to work
within the textual boundaries set down by the rulers. In extracting
meaning from the Yijing, they had to follow closely the official text,
and develop new strategies to make the text relevant to their times.6
In short, after canonization, Yijing scholars had to be creative to find
new ways to interpret the sealed text. Textual closure, as Moshe
Halberthal observes, gives rise to “hermeneutical openness.”7
CORREL ATIVE COSMOLOGY
A main characteristic of the Han Yijing scholars was their determina-

tion to link the Yijing to correlative cosmology. Promoted by Dong
Zhongshu 董仲舒 (ca. 195–105 BCE), correlative cosmology estab-
lished a direct correspondence between the natural and human
3. For the control of the Yijing studies, see Nylan 2001: 31‒51.

4. For the significance of the stone Yijing, see Nielsen 2003: 48‒51.
5. The Han scholars were consumed by the “New Text” versus the “Old Text”
debate. Fortunately, textually speaking, the Yijing was more stable than the other
four Confucian classics. The differences between the two versions of the Yijing were
minor. For the differences between the “Old Text” and the “New Text” Yijing, see Smith
2008: 58‒59; Nylan 2001: 51‒59.
6. For the restrictions during the Han in interpreting the classics, see Henderson
1991: 68‒71.
7. Halberthal 1997: 32‒40.
159
worlds. In the words of Sarah Queen, correlative cosmology “sought

to align the human realm with the normative patterns of the cos-
mos” to develop a sharpened awareness of “the mutual responsive-
ness of heaven and humanity.”8 With the sharpened awareness,
human beings would see the direct impact of nature on their lives
and vice versa. This belief in the mutual responsiveness between
nature and humankind is based on two assumptions: First, the cos-
mos is regarded as an orderly and stable structure. Its orderliness
and stability are shown in the regular succession of the 4 seasons,
1
the 12 months, the 365 4 days. Second, similar to the cosmos, the
human world is an orderly and stable structure. Despite the vicis-
situdes on the surface, the human world is balanced, systematically
organized, and predictable, as evidenced in the life cycle and the
rhythm of work and rest (figure 7.1). For human beings, the key is
how to manifest the hidden structure of the human world. For the
supporters of correlative cosmology, the answer is the “omnipotent
but disciplined sovereign” who takes appropriate actions to connect
the natural and human realms.9
Hence, in essence, correlative cosmology was a justification for
imperial authority. As Michael Loewe observes, correlative cosmol-
ogy supported the change “from the concept of imperial sovereignty
based on might [during the Warring States period] into the need to
support a claim to rule with intellectual sanctions.”10 This redefini-
tion of imperial authority is clearly shown in one of Dong Zhongshu’s
essays, “The Way of the King Penetrating Three,” where he deployed
the concept of the “three potencies” to explain the power of a ruler:
In ancient times those who created writing took three horizontal

lines and connected them through the center to designate the
king (王). The three horizontal lines represent Heaven, Earth, and
humankind while the vertical line that connects them through
8. Queen 1984: 1–53.
9. Queen 1984: 206.
10. Loewe 1994: 121‒141.
160
Cosmology
the center represents comprehending the Way. As for the one

who appropriates the mean of Heaven, Earth, and humankind
and takes this as the thread that joins and connects them, if it is
not one who acts as a king then who can be equal to this [task]?11
For the Han scholars, the Yijing supported correlative cosmology

and the imperial authority. First, the Yijing trigrams and hexagrams
were graphic symbols of the balanced cosmos. In particular, the
sequence of the 64 hexagrams and the orderly transformations of the
384 hexagram lines reflected the regularity and stability of the uni-
verse. Second, many passages in the Ten Wings repeatedly discussed
the “mutual responsiveness of heaven and humanity.” Especially in
the Dazhuan (Great Commentary), several passages described the
correspondence between the natural and human worlds based on the
concept of the “three potencies.” In short, from the perspective of
the Han scholars, the Yijing was designed for explicating correlative
cosmology. It was indeed the head of the “Five Classics” because of its
special role in defining and defending the power of the “omnipotent
but disciplined sovereign.”
INTERCHANGEABILITY OF HEXAGRAMS
Among the Han Yijing scholars, Meng Xi 孟喜 (ca. 90‒40 BCE)

and Jing Fang 京房 (77‒37 BCE) were most important in using
the Yijing to discuss correlative cosmology. Both of them created
elaborate systems by which the 64 hexagrams were correlated with
the 12 months, the 365 14 days, the 24 solar intervals, and the 72
five-day periods.12 Jing Fang, in particular, created a set of sophis-
ticated strategies to turn the Yijing into graphic representations of
correlative cosmology.13 Underlying these elaborate systems and
11. de Bary and Bloom 1999: 300‒301.

12. Nielsen 2003: 75‒80.
13. Smith 2008: 67‒71.
161
strategies was the view that every word in the Yijing is a metaphor
for trigrams and hexagrams. With this view, the Han Yijing scholars
turned the entire Yijing into graphic symbols for “the mutual respon-
siveness of heaven and humanity.” For Meng and Jing, this rule not
only applies to those sections devoted to hexagram images, such as
Xiangzhuan (Commentary to the Images), but also every part of the
Yijing. Even passages that explicitly discuss historical events—such
as the reference to the founding of the Shang and Zhou dynasties in
the judgment text of hexagram 49 Ge (Political Change)—have to be
understood as symbols for trigrams and hexagrams.14
Thus, during the Han dynasty, the accuracy and proficiency of a
Yijing scholar were measured by his ability to interpret the Yijing in
terms of hexagram images—what they considered to be the original
layer of the Yijing. Nevertheless, the goal of such reading was not to
return the Yijing to the Western Zhou oracles, but to take the entire
Yijing text as allegorical symbols. For example, in the Wenyan com-
mentary on hexagram 1 Qian (The Creative), attributed to Confucius,
the fifth line “flying dragon” represents the harmony in nature. It
describes the harmony in nature as “water flows to where it is wet,
and fire goes toward where it is dry.”15 In interpreting the Wenyan
statement, the Han Yijing scholars took every word in the statement
as a symbol of a trigram. So, “water” stands for Kan ; “wet” repre-
sents Kun ; “fire” invokes Li ; “dry” implies Qian . With this
allegorical reading, the Wenyan statement was turned into a medita-
tion on the relationship of these four trigrams and the possibility of
creating a set of hexagrams.16
14. For the historical events described in 49 Ge and 50 Ding, see Wilhelm and
Baynes 1967: 636.
16. Li Dingzuo 1988: 1, 17a. (The letters “a” and “b” refer to the traditional pagi-
nation of Zhouyi jieie that has two pages printed together.) Although very few Yijing
commentaries of the Han Dynasty survive, large numbers of excerpts are available in
Li Dingzuo 1988. In this chapter, I use Li’s text as my primary source in discussing the
Han Yijing studies. All translations of Li’s text are mine.
162
Cosmology
Similarly, in commenting on hexagram 49 Ge (Political Change),

the Han commentators focused on the hexagram image to explain
why Ge should be taken to mean a dynastic change. For them, there
must have been a reason for hexagram Ge to be made up of tri-
grams Li and Dui . Since Li (fire) is at the bottom and Dui (water)
at the top, the two trigrams evoke a picture where water flows from
the top, and fire provides heat from the bottom. They symbolize a
situation where everything is well coordinated and fully prepared for
a change, such as the founding of a new dynasty.17
To maximize their opportunities to read the Yijing as hexagram
images, the Han Yijing scholars created a number of interpretive
strategies. One idea was that hexagrams can automatically transform
into their opposite. By means of “moving lines” or “laterally linked
hexagrams” (pangtong 旁通), the yang lines of a hexagram can be
converted into the yin lines, or vice versa.18 For example, 1 Qian (The
Creative) can become 2 Kun (Receptive) and 24 Fu (Return)
can transform into 44 Gou (Encounter) . With the yin-yang conver-
sion, the Han Yijing scholars doubled their options in commenting
on hexagrams. Take, for instance, 23 Bo (Splitting Apart) . In com-
menting on Bo, the Han Yijing scholars often linked the hexagram
to 43 Kuai (Resolution). In so doing, they could find hope in a
seemingly bleak situation. On the one hand, they acknowledged that
Bo is indeed hopeless because the yin dominates the yang by five
to one, and the yang is pushed to the periphery. On the other hand,
they argued that the situation is temporary because the opposite,
Kuai , will soon occur where the yang will dominate the yin. By
highlighting Kuai as a literally linked hexagram of Bo, the Han Yijing
scholars underscore the codependence of yin and yang, and, more
importantly, the interchangeability of hexagrams.19
17. Li Dingzuo 1988: 10, 8a.

18. For a summary of how commentators used “laterally linked hexagrams” to
interpret the Yijing, see Nielson 2003: 185–188.
19. Li Dingzuo 1988: 5, 31a–b.
163
INTERCHANGEABILITY OF THE
HEXAGRAM LINES
Another strategy was to turn a hexagram into a different one by

transposing some of its lines. Known as “changing the positions of
hexagram lines” (yiwei 易位), this strategy allows the Yijing schol-
ars to introduce other hexagrams when commenting on one hexa-
gram. For instance, 11 Tai (Peace) can become 63 Jiji ( After
Completion) by transposing its second line (a yang) and its fifth
line (a yin). Likewise, 34 Dazhuang (Great Strength) can turn into
5 Xu (Waiting) by switching its fourth line (a yang) and its fifth
line (a yin). Much more versatile than laterally linked hexagrams, the
transposition of hexagram lines gave the Han Yijing scholars the flex-
ibility to inject new ideas into a hexagram, even if those ideas seemed
foreign to the hexagram.
Take, for instance, 34 Dazhuang (Great Strength) . The hexa-
gram evokes an image of the crushing power of the first four yang
lines when they advance into the territory of the top two yin lines.
Although Dazhuang appears to be aggressive, assertive, and adven-
turous, the Han Yijing scholars stressed caution and patience in their
comments as if someone was facing a dangerous situation. Their
argument is that despite the “great strength” of Dazhuang, the bot-
tom four yang lines are encroaching upon the yin territory, and a
confrontation seems inevitable. And when the confrontation inten-
sifies, the devastating impact of the conflict will fall on the fourth
yang line because it is at the frontline of the advancing yang. For the
Han Yijing scholars, the only way that the fourth line can avoid a dev-
astating blow is to switch its position with the yin fifth line, thereby
transforming Dazhuang into 5 Xu (Waiting) . Being an auspi-
cious hexagram full of encouraging phrases such as “prosperous” and
“perseverance yields good results,” Xu will bring peace and calm to an
otherwise tense situation.20
20. Li Dingzuo 1998: 7, 16a–b.
164
Cosmology
In addition to changing the position of hexagram lines, a hexa-

gram can become another hexagram with “interlocking trigrams”
(hugua 互卦 or huti 互體)—that is, using four or five of the hexa-
gram lines to form two new trigrams.21 For instance, 49 Ge (Radical
Change) can transform into 63 Jiji ( After Completion) by cre-
ating interlocking (or nuclear) trigrams. The creation of interlocking
trigrams is as follows: First, the yang line 4 of Ge transforms into a
yin line. Then, lines 3, 4, and 5 of Ge form trigram Li . Next, lines
4, 5, and 6 of Ge form trigram Kan . Finally, by combining the tri-
grams Li and Kan, hexagram Jiji is formed.22
Seemingly complicated and cumbersome, this method gave
the Han Yijing scholars more liberty in rendering some ambiguous
Yijing lines. A case in point is the meaning of the judgment text of
Ge, which says: “[O]‌nly on the day when it comes to an end does
one begin to enjoy trust.”23 With the two interlocking trigrams of
Ge in mind, the Han Yijing scholars had little difficulty explaining
the meaning of this line. For them, trigram Li (lines 3, 4 [trans-
formed], and 5 of Ge) denotes the sun, and trigram Kan (lines
4 [transformed], 5, and 6 of Ge) represents trust. Joined together,
the trigrams Li and Kan form the hexagram Jiji, which describes
the peace and prosperity of a perfect order in which all the yang
positions (lines 1, 3, 5) are occupied by yang lines and all the yin
positions (lines 2, 4, 6) are occupied by yin lines. In this perfect
order, trust must grow day by day.24
21. For a discussion of how commentators used “interlocking trigrams” to inter-

pret the Yijing, see Nielson 2003: 111–114.
22. Li Dingzuo 1998: 10, 8a.
23. The original judgment statement is yi ri nai fu (literally, “at the end of a day,
trust comes”). Here, I adopt Richard John Lynn’s translation. See Lynn 1994: 444.
Richard Wilhelm’s translation “On your own day, you are believed” is unclear (Wilhelm
and Baynes 1967: 189).
24. Li Dingzuo 1998: 10, 8a.
165
HEXAGRAM SYSTEMS
In stressing the interchangeability of hexagrams and hexagram

lines, the Han Yijing scholars parted company with the authors of
Tuanzhuan, Xiangzhuan, and Wenyan, who took each hexagram as
a discrete entity. The Han scholars’ emphasis on the collectivity of
hexagrams did not imply that individual hexagrams lack intrinsic
value. Rather, they argued that the significance of a hexagram must
also be seen in its relation with other hexagrams. To this end, they
developed various measures to group hexagrams, such as pairing
them as opposites and dividing them in accordance to their relation-
ship to the eight “pure” hexagrams (1 Qian , 51 Zhen , 29 Kan ,
52 Gan , 2 Kun , 57 Xun , 30 Li , 58 Dui ).25 These measures
went beyond the simple saga of linear progression in Xugua and gave
the commentators more options in explaining the Yijing text.
Take, for example, 24 Fu (Return) . As mentioned earlier, Fu is
linked to 44 Gou (Encounter) through laterally linked hexagrams.
More important, Fu is part of a series of hexagrams demonstrating
“the return in seven days.” Originally from the judgment of Fu, “the
return in seven days” was understood in the Han dynasty not as a
statement about time, but as a cosmic pronouncement about the
return of the yang force after being diminished by the yin force. For
the Han Yijing scholars, the ebb and flow of the yin and yang forces
can be represented in a sequence of twelve hexagrams.
24 Fu → 19 Lin → 11 Tai → 34 Dazhuang →

43 Guai → 1 Qian → 44 Gou → 33 Dun →
12 Pi → 20 Guan → 23 Bo → 2 Kun → [back to Fu]
Known as “hexagram sequence of dispersal and accumulation”

(xiaoxi gua 消息卦), this series of hexagrams denotes both the gradual
25. The eight pure hexagrams are also called the eight “palaces.” For details about
the system of eight pure hexagrams, see Nielson 2003: 1‒7.
166
Cosmology
increase of the yang force (reading from Fu to Qian), and the gradual
increase of the yin force (reading from Gou to Kun).26 Moreover, the
twelve hexagrams are supposed to be continuous—that is, when
the series ends with Kun, it will begin anew with Fu. Based on these
twelve hexagrams, the Han Yijing scholars took “the return in seven
days” to means the return of the yang force through seven hexa-
grams—namely, six hexagrams (from Gou to Kun) for the six yang
lines to be replaced by the yin lines and an additional hexagram (Fu)
to show the reemergence of the yang force. By equating “seven days”
with seven hexagrams, “the return in seven days” was indeed the
return of the yang force in seven hexagrams.27
Arbitrary as it may seem, the Han Yijing scholars’ interpreta-
tion of “the return of seven days” underscored the importance of
linking one hexagram to others. By linking individual hexagrams
to a web of hexagrams, the Han Yijing scholars confirmed that the
cosmos is orderly, stable, and predictable. Like the hexagrams, the
cosmos is orderly because it is governed by a few simple rules, such
as the ebb and flow of the yin and yang forces. Like the hexagrams,
the cosmos is stable because it follows fixed patterns, such as the
four seasons, solstices, and pitch-pipes. Like the hexagrams, the
cosmos is predictable because one thing will automatically trans-
form into something else based on the predetermined rules and
patterns.
For these reasons, it comes as no surprise that systems like the
“hexagrams of dispersal and accumulation” were crucial to the Han
scholars’ reading of the Yijing. Not only did the twelve hexagrams
show graphically the ebb and flow of the yin and yang forces, they
also clearly laid out the sequence of events. As such, they helped to
reduce the uncertainties in life. Once a person identified a hexagram
in this system (say, Fu), that person could immediately tell what had
happened in the past and what will happen in the future. Accordingly,
26. For a discussion of how commentators used the xiaoxi gua to interpret the
Yijing, see Nielson 2003: 274–276.
27. Li Dingzuo 1998: 6, 3a.
167
that person can make plans to solve existing problems and to shape
the future (figures 7.2 and 7.3).
AN ORDERLY COSMOS
On the whole, it was this strong emphasis on the orderliness, stabil-

ity, and predictability of hexagrams that set the Han Yijing scholars
apart from previous interpreters. And no Han scholar personified
this difference more sharply than Zheng Xuan 鄭玄 (127–200 CE),
who, throughout early imperial China, was considered to be an exem-
plar of Han Yijing scholarship. In records, we find a long excerpt of
Zheng Xuan’s commentary on 50 Ding (The Cauldron) that illustrates
his skill in reading the Yijing in terms of metaphors for correlative
cosmology. Regarding the Xiangzhuan commentary “Fire over wood,
the image of the Cauldron,”28 Zheng Xuan wrote:
Ding invokes an image. It connotes the function of wood and fire.

It possesses two interlocking trigrams: Qian and Dui. Qian sym-
bolizes gold, and Dui represents marsh. . . . The food in a cauldron
is cooked to feed people. Its impact is similar to a sagely ruler
who practices the way of humanity and righteousness in order to
teach the world how to live properly. That is what Ding means.29
In his comments, Zheng Xuan skillfully employs hexagram images to

prove that Ding teaches the moral duty of a sagely ruler. To make his
point, he first calls attention to the two trigrams that make up Ding
: Sun (wood) at the bottom and Li (fire) at the top. Then, he
defines Ding as the combined force of wood and fire, highlighting the
fact that Ding is used for preparing food for people. He then expands
on the theme of meal preparation by creating two interlocking

29. Li Dingzuo 1998: 10, 15a.
168
Cosmology
trigrams from the Ding hexagram: Qian (gold) (lines 2, 3, and

4) and Dui (water) (lines 3, 4, and 5) (figure 7.4).
With these two interlocking trigrams, Zheng Xuan underlines the
political and moral implications of Ding. That is, with the gold in Qian
and the water in Dui, a ruler possesses the necessary resources to feed
the people and thereby apply the “way of humanity and righteous-
ness.” By invoking the trigrams Sun, Li, Qian, and Dui in interpreting
the hexagram Ding, Zheng Xuan proves that the Yijing is indeed a
graphic representation of an orderly and stable cosmos.
169
Figure 0.1. Tortoise with trigrams. An allusion to the myth of Fu Xi seeing the trigrams
on the back of a turtle. This is a much later illustration based in part on this myth.
All figures are from Rong Yong, et al. This exists in multiple editions without
usable pagination.
Figure 1.1. The sixty-four hexagrams in circular (heaven) and square (earth) arrange-
ments. They are in the order attributed to Fu Xi.
Figure 1.2. A Daoist fu, or talisman, using trigram imagery. These were usually sold in
Daoist temples. The purchaser, hoping for improved health, good luck, or other ben-
efits, usually burned the paper slip and consumed the ashes.
Figure 6.1. The trigrams as a decorative and auspicious motif in the manner of bronze
mirror backs.
Figure 7.1. Association of trigrams and hexagrams with lunar phases: An example of

complex cosmological correlations.
Figure 7.2. How the face withstands cold—explanation based on trigrams and yang
energy. Traditional Chinese medicine made much use of Yijing imagery, though early
medical theory did not derive directly from the Zhouyi.
Figure 7.3. Trigrams illustrating the circulation of yin and yang associated with the
hands and feet. Another example of correlative metaphysics applied to the body. These
diagrams show the extreme complexity that developed from the yin-yang theory.
Figure 7.4. Alternative versions of the eight trigrams (ba gua). Scholars fascinated by
the combinatorial possibilities of the diagrams invented elaborate variations thought
to reveal metaphysical truths.
Figure 10.1. Binary sequence of hexagrams. It was this sequence, though with a less
complex diagram, that Fr. Joachim Bouvet sent to Gottfried Leibniz.
Figure 11.1. Yarrow stick method for hexagram selection. This elaborate and
time-consuming method involved repeated sorting of the sticks. This was the earliest
method but details were lost. The later reconstruction in the Song by Zhu Xi probably
does not exactly duplicate the early one.
C hapter 8
Moral Cultivation
Whereas the Han scholars systematically linked the Yijing to correla-

tive cosmology, many scholars of later times felt that this was overem-
phasized to the neglect of moral interpretation. As a result, in popular
accounts of the history of the Yijing commentaries, it is said that there
had been two opposing commentarial traditions over the 2,000 years of
imperial China: the xiangshu 象數 (image and number) tradition of the
Han dynasty (206 BCE–220 CE) and the yili 義理(meaning and prin-
ciple) tradition of the Song dynasty (960–1279). Also known respec-
tively as the “Han Yi” 漢易 (studies of the Changes of the Han dynasty)
and the “Song Yi” 宋易 (studies of the Changes of the Song dynasty),
the two commentarial traditions are described as constantly competing
with each other. The competition was so intense that only one commen-
tarial tradition remained dominant at a given time. By and large, the
competition between the two commentarial traditions occurred in four
stages: (1) after two centuries of domination, the Han Yi lost its appeal
in the third century Three Dynasties period; (2) following a long period
of germination, the Song Yi rose to prominence in the twelfth and thir-
teen centuries; (3) from the fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries, the
Song Yi won the official support of the imperial governments, which
made this reading of the Yijing a requirement for the civil service exami-
nations; (4) beginning in the eighteenth century, the Han Yi regained
its popularity as scholars directed their attention to philology and ques-
tioned the Song Yi emphasis on moral cultivation.1
1. For a standard account of the history of Han Yi versus Song Yi, see the Yijing
section of Siku quanshu zongmu tiyao 1999: 14. For an example of how this Siku guanshu
account is used in studying the Yijing commentaries, see Kidder Smith et al. 1990: 7–25.
171
Simplistic and reductive notwithstanding,2 this account of the

rivalry between the Han Yi and the Song Yi reveals an unresolved
problem of the received Yijing text—that is, whether the Yijing was
about the structure of the cosmos or about human agency within
the cosmos. In many ways, this controversy was a result of the com-
posite nature of the Yijing text. As mentioned in previous chapters,
the received Yijing text is composed of three distinct layers: (1) the
hexagram images, (2) the judgment and line statements, and (3)
the Ten Wings. When the Yijing text was read chronologically—that
is, starting with the earliest layers before reaching the later layer—
the Yijing could be construed as describing an orderly cosmos
wherein human beings must find appropriate ways to act and react
(see chapter 7). When the Yijing was read in the reverse order—
that is, starting with the Ten Wings (particularly the Dazhuan)
before pondering the hexagram images and the hexagram state-
ments—the Yijng appeared to discuss the opportunities for human
beings to better their lives through moral cultivation (see chapter
8). Certainly, these two readings were not mutually exclusive: an
understanding of the orderliness of the cosmos would empower a
person in handling his or her life; conversely, problems in one’s life
are rooted in one’s surroundings, be they cosmic or social. Together,
the two readings underscored what Wei-ming Tu calls “the conti-
nuity of being,”3 underlying the interplay between the cosmos and
humankind in the continuous unfolding of nature.
Nevertheless, for the followers of the Han Yi and the Song Yi,
the crux of the matter was not the interaction between the cos-
mos and humankind, but how to understand the nature of this
2. For a more nuanced account of the history of Yijing commentaries, see Smith
2008. In this book, Smith shows that in many periods of time (including the Song
dynasty and the Ming dynasty), both the methods of the Han Yi and the Song Yi coex-
isted (Smith 2008: 112–194).
3. Wei-ming Tu argues that the Chinese conception of nature is based on the
notion of “the continuity of being” in which all animate and inanimate beings are
connected together into “a spontaneous self-generating process.” He describes this
self-generating process as having three characteristics: continuity, wholeness, and
dynamism. See Tu 1985: 35–50.
172
M o r a l C ult iva t i o n
interaction through a reading of the Yijing. Their disagreement was

twofold: (1) how much power individuals possess in changing their
lives; and (2) how that power is presented in the Yijing. To the followers
of the Han Yi (who preferred the chronological reading of the Yijing),
the structure of nature dictated the relationship between the cosmos
and the humankind. In their minds, men and women must regulate
their lives in accordance to the rhythm of nature. On the contrary, to
the followers of the Song Yi (who preferred to read the Yijing from the
perspective of the Ten Wings), the partnership between the cosmos
and humanity gives individuals the ability to choose their course of
action. In their minds, the cosmos is an “open system,” wherein parts
influence the whole as much as the whole influences its parts.
WANG BI’S READING OF THE YIJING
To give authority and authenticity to their approach, the followers of

the Song Yi traced its origin to the third century, when the precocious
thinker Wang Bi 王弼 (226–249) ardently opposed the Han commen-
taries. To restore what he believed the true meaning of the Yijing,
Wang Bi not only composed a full commentary to the sixty-four hexa-
grams, but also a series of essays explaining his own method of inter-
preting the classic. To the followers of the Song Yi, Wang Bi’s essays,
collectively known as Zhouyi lüeli周易略例 (General remarks on the
Changes of the Zhou), spelled out in precise terms the importance of
understanding the Yijing from the perspective of human agency.
For instance, to underscore the ability of human beings to change
their lives, Wang Bi suggested reading the sixty-four hexagrams
independently as sixty-four separate situations. For him, each hexa-
gram, whether auspicious or inauspicious, simple or complicated, is
a symbol of the possibility of change.4 In particular, he stresses that
the six lines of a hexagram represent the room to maneuver within a
4. See Wang Bi’s essay “Ming Tuan” (Clarifying the judgments). For a translation
of this essay, see Lynn 1994: 25–27.
173
given situation. Precisely in this juncture between what is given and

what can be done, Wang Bi sees the fluidity of human affairs and the
importance of making the right decisions.5 With proper action, he
asserts, one can turn what appears to be a failure into a blessing. By
failing to choose the appropriate action, he cautions, one can make
what appears to be flourishing into a disaster.6
To demonstrate the power of human beings in changing their lives,
Wang Bi focuses on timeliness. For instance, in commenting on the
judgment statement, “Timely mounting the six dragons” (shi cheng liu
long 時乘六龍), of hexagram 1 Qian (The Creative), he explains the
imperative of taking action in a timely fashion.7 He writes:
Thus each of the six positions [in Qian] forms without ever missing
its moment, its ascent or descent not subject to fixed rule, func-
tioning according to the moment involved. If one is to remain in
repose, ride a hidden dragon, and if one is to set forth, ride a flying
dragon. This is why it is said: “When it is the moment for it, ride one
of the six dragons. Here one takes control of the great instrument
(daqi, Heaven) by riding change and transformation.”8
The “six dragons” that are mentioned here are the six yang lines of
Qian. Line 1 is “the submerged dragon”; line 2 is “the emerged dragon”;
line 3 is “the superior man in constant self-strengthening”; line 4 is
5. See Wang Bi’s essay “Ming yao tong bian” (Clarifying how the lines are com-
mensurate with change). For a translation of this essay, see Lynn 1994: 27–29.
6. See Wang Bi’s essay “Ming gua shi bian tong yao” (Clarifying how the hexa-
grams correspond to change and make the lines commensurate with it). For a transla-
tion of this essay, see Lynn 1994: 29–31.
7. “Timely mounting the six dragons” summarizes the end of the Tuanzhuan
statement. Richard Wilhelm translates the complete Tuanzhuan statement as fol-
lows: “Because the holy man is clear as to the end and the beginning, as to the way
in which each of the six stages completes itself in its own time, he mounts on them
toward heaven as though on six dragons” (Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 371).
8. Lynn 1994: 129. Note that when translating Wang Bi’s commentary on the
Tuanzhuan statement, Lynn does not provide a translation of the original statement.
Therefore, readers cannot tell why Wang Bi discusses “riding one of the six dragons.”
174
“the dragon in quandary”; line 5 is “the flying dragon”; and line 6, at

the top, is “the arrogant dragon.” In his comment, Wang Bi explains
that the “six dragons” are metaphors for our timely adaptations to the
ever-changing environment. The “six dragons” tell us that there is no
fixed rule in human activity. At some point in time, a person may have
to remain dormant due to unfavorable circumstances; but in another
point in time when the situation has improved, the same person
can be assertive and forward-looking. In keeping with the changing
demands of our surroundings, we have to shift continuously from one
“dragon” to another “dragon.” By timely shifting from one “dragon” to
another, we gain control of our surroundings, take command of our
lives, and immerse ourselves in the constancy of change.
Just as each of the six “dragons” of the Qian hexagram is
important in deciding a timely response, so, too, each hexagram
is important in charting one’s course of action. For Wang Bi, what
makes a hexagram auspicious or inauspicious does not depend on
its omen; rather, it depends on how well a person responds to the
situation revealed in the hexagram. To drive home this point, he
always points out the hidden dangers and the source of trouble in
them when commenting on the apparently auspicious hexagrams.
Likewise, he always highlights the source of hope and the poten-
tial for growth when he comments on the apparently inauspicious
hexagrams.
An example is Wang Bi’s commentary on the last two hexagrams,
63 Jiji (After Completion) and 64 Weiji (Before Completion) .
On the surface, Jiji appears to have a perfect order of lines: the yang
in the first position is aggressive to begin a new enterprise; the yin in
the second position is supportive to the fifth line; the yang in the third
position is ready to make the leap from the lower trigram to upper
trigram; the yin in the fourth position is going to rest after making
the transition to the upper trigram; the yang in the fifth position is
strong and assertive in providing leadership to the entire hexagram;
and the yin in the sixth position is ready to yield graciously after fin-
ishing its service. In short, everything is in the right place and in the
175
right order. Yet, ideal as Jiji may appear, Wang Bi urges caution and
introspection in this seemingly ideal situation.9
Conversely, despite its ominous title, “Before Completion,” Wang
Bi considers Weiji promising. On the surface, Weiji is clearly hampered
by the wrong order of all six of its lines. All of the yang positions
(lines 1, 3, and 5) are occupied by yin lines, and all the yin positions
(lines 2, 4, and 6) are occupied by yang lines. With the wrong order,
the six lines are incapable of forming a cohesive and supportive team.
Yet, for Wang Bi, it is precisely this imperfect order that gives Weiji
the drive, the impetus, and the vitality to push forward.10
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE SONG YI
Wang Bi’s reading was passed on to later generations through the

Zhouyi zhengyi 周易正義 (The true meaning of the Changes of the
Zhou Dynasty), created in 653 CE. This influential work declared
Wang’s commentary to be the authoritative interpretation of the
classic. But Wang Bi’s commentary did not become part of the Song
Yi until the twelfth century, when two accomplished commentators
Cheng Yi 程頤 (1033–1107) and Zhu Xi 朱熹 (1130–1200) expanded
Wang’s vision to build a philosophy of moral metaphysics. It was also
because of these two influential commentators, both of whom lived
in the Song dynasty, that the term “Song Yi” came to refer to the par-
ticular approach of centering on human agency in interpreting the
Yijing. From its rise to prominence in the twelfth century through its
codification and canonization in the fifteenth century to its decline
and fall in the eighteenth century, the Song Yi defined the textual
body of the Yijing, shaped its meaning, and facilitated its circulation
for nearly 800 years.
At the core of the Song Yi were two commentaries: the Yichuan
yizhuan 伊川易傳 (A commentary on the Changes [by a reader] from
9. See Lynn 1994: 538–544.

10. See Lynn 1994: 545–551.
176
Yi River) by Cheng Yi and the Zhouyi benyi 周易本義 (The original

meanings of the Changes of the Zhou Dynasty) by Zhu Xi. As the basis of
the Cheng-Zhu school of neo-Confucianism, Cheng Yi’s and Zhu Xi’s
commentaries were promoted by the imperial rulers as the standard
readings of the Yijing. Tested in the civil service examinations, the
two commentaries were carefully read and widely circulated among
the literati. From 1313 to 1905, all educated males in China would be
expected to read the Yijing along with Cheng’s and Zhu’s commentar-
ies. As such, throughout late imperial China, the two commentaries
jointly shaped the cultural agenda of the literati-bureaucrats and the
self-identity of the educated elite.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MORAL METAPHYSICS
Cheng Yi’s and Zhu Xi’s commentaries played different roles in present-
ing a philosophy of moral metaphysics. For Cheng Yi, the moral phi-
losophy of the Ten Wings spoke directly to educated elites, who, in every
instance, have to choose between acting righteously and acting for pri-
vate benefit. Constantly under pressure to make difficult decisions or to
negotiate competing claims, the literati could find moral lessons in the
Ten Wings to be the da ren 大人 (great men)—the moral persons who
know the pattern of the universe, and know how to apply it in daily
life.11 For this reason, Cheng Yi’s commentary is full of detailed instruc-
tions for resolving specific problems, such as how to handle oneself
in factional politics, how to befriend like-minded colleagues, and how
to serve the government under an arrogant ruler.12 As Kidder Smith
points out, being morally didactic, Cheng Yi’s commentary “reflects
how eleventh-century China provided enormous opportunities for lit-
eratus advancement into real power—as politicians, within a vigorous
economy, as litterateurs, as members of influential families, etc.”13
11. Kidder Smith et al., 1990: 142–156.

12. See Hon 2005: 121–134.
13. Kidder Smith et al. 1990: 139.
177
To drive home his point, Cheng Yi began his commentary to each

hexagram by quoting from the Xugua (Hexagram in Sequence), the
ninth wing. The quotations were to remind readers that the sixty-four
hexagrams are, as a whole, a saga of political confrontations between
honest and corrupt officials.14 Their battle begins with 1 Qian (The
Creative) and 2 Kun (The Receptive), respectively symbolizing the
virtuous and petty people. The battle takes different forms as the bal-
ance of power between the two camps changes. In the end, the cycle of
battle begins anew upon reaching 64 Weiji (Before Completion) when
the hexagram points to a breakdown of order after a brief period of
harmony and peace. This differs from Wang Bi’s approach, which was
to consider each hexagram as an independent entity. For Cheng Yi,
considering the hexagrams in order, the Yijing offers both warning and
encouragement to honest officials who are locked in political battles. It
cautions them about impending dangers when they are in power, and
urges them to continue the fight when they are out of favor.
In contrast, Zhu Xi regarded the Zhouyi portion, rather than the
Ten Wings, as the “original version” of the Yijing. To distinguish the
early layers from the Ten Wings, Zhu Xi created two separate catego-
ries in his commentary: the Western Zhou section and the later Ten
Wings. With these two categories, Zhu made clear that the Ten Wings
were at best supplementary materials in understanding the hexagrams.
Underlying his view was a different understanding of the formation of
the Yijing. Unlike Wang Bi and Cheng Yi, Zhu did not see it as a progres-
sive evolution from graphic representation to moral-metaphysical phi-
losophy. For him, the sixty-four hexagrams are the foundation of the
Yijing because they are visual representations of the constant changes
in the natural and human worlds.
By privileging Fu Xi’s hexagrams over the supposedly Confucian
Ten Wings, Zhu Xi wanted to achieve two goals. First, he underscored
the importance of divination as a method of self-cultivation. For
him, divination is not a superstitious act of asking guidance from a
14. For the significance of Cheng Yi’s inclusion of Xugua into the sixty-four hexa-
grams, see Hon 2005: 121–129.
178
supernatural power. Rather, it is an enriching experience of encounter-

ing the unknown and unfathomable. In the process of divination, one
faces the multiple forces that shape human life, and thereby becomes
aware of the opportunities and resources in improving one’s situation.
As Joseph Adler observes, divination was “a way of learning” for Zhu
Xi because it helped learners to “respond to incipient change, both in
external events and in the mind.”15
Second, by focusing on the visual imagery of the hexagrams,
Zhu Xi saw the Yijing as significantly different from other Confucian
classics. Instead of being limited to kings, nobles, and government
officials, the Yijing addressed a broad audience who, literate or illiter-
ate, were concerned with both the uncertainty and the opportunity
of change.16 For Zhu Xi, the hexagram images are meant to reach all
walks of life, regardless of their social station, education background,
and command of written language. To underscore the importance of
understanding the Yijing visually, he attached nine diagrams to his
commentary.17 In these diagrams (some of which were developed by
Shao Yong 邵雍 (1011–1077), Zhu Xi explained how the trigrams and
hexagrams are interrelated as symbols of yin and yang (figure 1.1). In
addition, he wrote five treatises reiterating the two goals of reading
the Yijing: understanding the visual images of hexagrams and using
divination as a tool of embracing change. To further elaborate on the
latter point, he compiled a set of rituals for performing divination.
He specified detailed procedures for creating a spiritual environment
and using the yarrow sticks in divination (figure 11.1).18
15. Kidder Smith et al. 1990: 191.

16. Adler 2002: i–xxv; Kidder Smith et al., 1990: 177–188.
17. The nine diagrams are the [Yellow] River diagram; the Luo [River] document;
the sequence of Fu Xi’s eight trigrams according to Fu Xi; the directional positions of
Fu Xi’s eight trigrams; the sequence of Fu Xi’s sixty-four hexagrams; the directional
positions of Fu Xi’s sixty-four hexagrams; the sequence of King Wen’s eight trigrams;
the directional positions of King Wen’s eight trigrams; and the diagram of the changes
in the hexagrams.
18. To emphasize the importance of divination as a method of moral cultivation,
Zhu Xi’s five treatises and the manual of divination were placed at the beginning of
Zhouyi benyi 周易本義. They were continued to be placed at the beginning of the com-
bined Cheng Yi’s and Zhu Xi’s commentaries in the Ming and Qing periods.
179
Overall, one may say that Cheng Yi adopted an “elitist” approach

to the Yijing, and Zhu Xi took a “populist” approach. Yet, ironically, it
was their different approaches that drew later scholars to synthesize
their commentaries to form the Song Yi. First, despite their differ-
ences, Cheng and Zhu shared the view that the Yijing was a composite
text with many layers of meaning. This common belief in the multi-
plicity of the Yijing formed the core of the Song Yi. Second, precisely
because Cheng and Zhu aimed at different audiences, combining
their commentaries became even more attractive, especially for those
who wanted to make the Yijing a classic for all walks of life. For these
scholars, a synthesis of Cheng’s and Zhu’s commentaries would speak
to a wide range of audience—the educated and the uneducated, the
officials and the civilians, the powerful and the powerless. And to a
large extent, the Song Yi was built on this desire of making the Yijing
a living text for the moral cultivation of the widest possible audience.
180
C hapter 9
The Yijing as China Enters

the Modern Age
For Chinese, the history of their country in the last century is filled
with revolutions: the Revolution of 1911, the May Fourth Movement
(1915–1923), the Communist Revolution of 1949, and the Great
Proletarian Cultural Revolution (1966–1976). Though not consid-
ered a revolution, the opening up initiated by Deng Xiaoping in 1979
has once again transformed life for Chinese. Although all are distinct
in their own right, these events are linked together historically in
a teleology of continuous revolution. According to this narrative,
twentieth-century China began with a political revolution to trans-
form the imperial state into a nation-state; then it underwent an
intellectual revolution to replace Confucianism with modern science
and democracy; finally it developed a socialist revolution to drasti-
cally change the socioeconomic structure of the nation. The under-
lying theme is that China’s modernization could only be achieved
by severing its ties with the past, particularly through a complete
restructuring of the country’s political, cultural, and social systems.1
This saga of “continuous revolution” includes the Yijing. The
Yijing was inextricably tied to the imperial system after being can-
onized as a Confucian classic in 136 BCE. Supported by the lite-
rati and sustained through voluminous commentaries, the Yijing
1. This saga of continuous revolution is still portrayed in films, novels, operas,

songs, and TV documentaries in today’s China. In historical writings, a key text that
explains this historical view is Fan 1955.
181
became a pillar of the imperial orthodoxy that justified the authori-

tarian rule of the emperors, the domination of scholar-officials,
and the supremacy of the patrilineal family structure. Beginning in
1313, the link between the Yijing and the imperial authority became
even stronger, when the emperors ordered knowledge of the clas-
sic to be tested in the civil-service examinations. Consequently, for
600 years, the Yijing was a step on the ladder of success for those
seeking wealth and power.
After the Revolution of 1911, the Yijing’s close tie to the imperial
tradition became a liability. Along with other artifacts of the imperial
system (such as the Forbidden City in Beijing and the tiny cells in
examination halls), the Yijing was seen as a relic of the past. To rein-
vent the Yijing in the postimperial age, twentieth-century Chinese
scholars focused on giving the Yijing a new identity. They worked tire-
lessly to present the Yijing as a historical document demonstrating
the country’s progress in ancient times, rather than as an outmoded,
canonized classic supporting imperial legitimacy.2
YIJING AND PROGRESS
The purpose of this historicization was two-fold. First, to paraphrase

a popular slogan of the May Fourth Movement, the goal of the
twentieth-century study of the Yijing was “to throw the ancient texts
into the toilet.”3 To support the revolutionary ethos modern scholars
challenged the entire Yijing commentarial tradition that began in the
second century BCE. They discredited past Yijing commentators on
2. For a summary of the twentieth-century studies of the Yijing, see Smith

2008: 195–217.
3. To highlight its cultural radicalism, some scholars describe the May Fourth
Movement as the “Chinese Enlightenment.” For an account of May Fourth cultural
iconoclasm, see Schwarcz 1986: 12–144. The original May Fourth slogan was “to throw
all traditionally string-bound books into the toilet” (ba xianzhuangshu dudiaodao mao-
kangqu 把綫裝書都丢到茅坑去).
182
THE YIJING A S CHINA ENTERS THE MODERN AGE
the grounds that they erroneously believed in the systemicity of the

Yijing text and its intimate link to Confucianism.
Second, the historicization was simultaneously an attempt to
bring China into the modern age. Twentieth-century Chinese schol-
ars believed that the critique of the Confucian tradition was a neces-
sary first step toward constructing a modern China based on science
and democracy. To modernize China, they approached the Yijing as
an historical relic to be subjected to modern scientific research meth-
ods. By showing the complex process by which the Yijing was com-
posed and compiled, they claimed that they could accurately date the
Yijing text; historically connect it to its own times; and, above all,
judiciously assess its impact on China’s long journey to modernity.4
To critique the past or to build a new future, twentieth-century
Chinese scholars were driven by the notion of linear progression.
Influenced by Social Darwinism, they believed that nations must fol-
low a uniform path of evolution, developing from a lower stage (such
as the Stone Age) to progressively higher stages, from the Bronze
Age, through the Iron Age, to the medieval, to the modern. Countries
in an earlier stage of development were deemed “primitive,” whereas
countries in a later stage were considered “civilized.” By this view, the
universal law of progression denoted a clear path to modernity, sepa-
rating the countries (mostly in the West) that had evolved success-
fully to the highest stage of human development, from the countries
(such as China) that were stuck in feudalism.5
The long history of the making of the Changes provided twenti-
eth-century Chinese scholars ample opportunities to designate the
stages of Chinese development, beginning from the times of hunters
and gatherers (associated with the hexagram images) to the times
of a vast agrarian empire (associated with the hexagram statements
and the Ten Wings). More importantly, after locating China in the
4. For a summary of this change in the study of the Yijing, see Smith 2008: 199–201.
5. This historical view of linear progression was popular in China since the late
nineteenth century. For the origin of this view, see Schwartz 1964.
183
universal scheme of human development, twentieth-century Chinese

scholars were able to justify plans to modernize their country.
THE DOUBTING ANTIQUITY MOVEMENT
From the 1920s to the 1990s, the historicization of the Yijing went
through three stages, with each stage increasingly distancing the
Yijing from the Confucian tradition and more closely linking it to the
quest for modernity. The first (and the widely celebrated) attempt
at historicizing the Yijing was the Doubting Antiquity Movement
(Yigupai 疑古派) in the mid-1920s. Led by the historian Gu Jiegang
顧頡剛 (1893–1980), this movement reexamined ancient texts to
critique the imperial tradition. Its goal was to show the hypocrisy
of imperial officials who fabricated textual evidence to support the
imperial orthodoxy.6 In 1931, Gu and his cohorts published essays
on the Yijing in the third volume of Gushi bian 古史辨 (Debates on
Ancient History)—the flagship publication of the movement.
What made the Yijing essays in this collection a new departure
was that they all followed Gu’s method of tracing historical gene-
alogy. Instead of viewing the Yijing as a coherent text, the authors
of these essays carefully examined various segments of the text.
Through meticulous studies, they demonstrated that the received
Yijing text was composed by multiple authors and compiled over a
long span of time.7 One of their discoveries was that the Zhouyi, the
original sections, had nothing to do with the Confucian tradition. In
fact, some authors went so far as to argue that the Ten Wings was not
composed or even edited by Confucius. They showed that many ideas
6. For a study of the Doubting Antiquity Movement, see Schneider 1971. “Ku
Chieh-Kang” in Schneider’s book title is a different transliteration of the name “Gu
Jiegang.”
7. For instance, to show that the received Yijing text was composed by a host of
authors, Gu Jiegang compared the stories in the hexagram statements. See Gushi bian
3: 1–84.
184
in the Ten Wings were characteristic of thought of the Eastern Zhou

period (770–221 BCE), both Confucian and Daoist.8
This separation of the Zhouyi from the Yijing was important
for two reasons. First, by making a categorical distinction between
the Zhouyi (a divination manual of ancient times) and the Yijing (a
Confucian classic of the feudal state), the authors of these essays
suggested that for centuries, the Yijing commentators had been
deceiving readers by projecting Confucianism onto the ancient text.
Furthermore, they argued that through distorting and manipulating
the text, the Yijing commentators justified absolute imperial rule by
upholding the cosmological triad of heaven, earth, and humanity—a
concept that was traditionally believed to be illustrated in the images
of the eight trigrams and the sixty-four hexagrams.9 Second, by dis-
tinguishing the Zhouyi from the Yijing, it was possible to use one text
to discuss three distinct moments in ancient China: (1) the mythi-
cal time of Fu Xi, when the first elements of the Zhouyi were sup-
posedly created; (2) the pre-imperial agrarian stage when the Ten
Wings were probably composed; and (3) the early imperial state when
the Yijing was codified and canonized.10 Although the authors were
unsure of the fundamental differences between these three histori-
cal moments, they succeeded in identifying a path of evolution of
ancient China. They showed that similar to other countries in the
world, ancient China had been following the universal pattern of evo-
lution, progressing from tribalism to feudalism.
YIJING AND COMMUNIST HISTORIOGRAPHY
Soon afterward, this broad picture of ancient China was filled in with
details. Based on the findings of the Yijing scholars, the Communist
8. See Li Jingchi’s 李鏡池 article in Gushi bian 3: 95–132.

9. Gu Jiegang highlighted these two points in his preface to Gushi bian, vol. 3.
10. In Gushi bian, vol. 3, the first two stages were covered more thoroughly than
the third stage. See Yu Yongliang’s 余永梁 article on the Zhouyi, and Li Jingchi’s article
on the Ten Wings.
185
historians (e.g., Guo Moruo 郭沫若, 1892–1978) developed a com-

plex historical account that included three distinct periods: the
Stone Age, the Bronze Age, and the Iron Age. Showing the teleol-
ogy of human progress, each period signified a particular stage of
socioeconomic development. For instance, the Stone Age described
the mobile, free-willing lifestyle of hunters and gatherers; the Bronze
Age denoted the seasonal cultivation of small-size agrarian commu-
nities; and the Iron Age delineated the elaborate social division of
labor (including slavery) for the large-scale agricultural production.11
By linking a segment of the received Yijing text to one stage of
socioeconomic development, the Communist historians incorpo-
rated Yijing studies into their revolutionary historiography. They
argued that the Yijing showed the prehistory of Chinese feudalism.
For them, China entered the stage of large-scale agricultural pro-
duction probably around second century BCE, and it remained in
that developmental stage until the twentieth century. According to
Communist historiography, during the 2,000 years of feudalism,
China developed into a powerful imperial state armed with sophis-
ticated farming and irrigational tools, but it was never able to go a
step further to create an industrial economy.12 Hence, the goal of the
Chinese Communist Revolution was to liberate China from its long
imprisonment in feudalism through rapid industrialization and fair
sharing of resources among its people.
This Communist interpretation of ancient Chinese history
became the official historical view after 1949. Concomitantly, the
historicization of the Yijing continued to play a role in supporting the
Communist revolutionary historiography. For instance, in the early
1960s, during a spate of discussion about the nature of the Yijing, the
former scholars of the Doubting Antiquity Movement republished
their works with an update pledging their allegiance to Communism.
This time, they were much more certain and clear about periodization.
11. See Guo Moruo, “Zhongguo gudai shehui yanjiu 中国古代社会研究” (Studies
of Chinese ancient society[1929]), in Guo 1982: 1, 6–314, esp. 32–89.
12. See Guo 1940. The book also appears in Guo 1982: 1, 377–404.
186
For them, the Zhouyi represented the “primitive thoughts” of hunt-

ers and gatherers who relied on supernatural power to make ends
meet, whereas the canonized Yijing signified China’s transition into
the “slave society” of feudalism.13 To support the Communist ideol-
ogy, they described tribalism as the “infancy of human civilization,”
when people engaged in the superstitious practice of divination.14
Regarding the agrarian empire depicted in the Ten Wings, the Yijing
scholars were ambivalent. On the one hand, they acknowledged the
progress from hunting and gathering to large-scale agricultural pro-
duction; on the other hand, they condemned the authoritarianism of
the imperial rulers and the sharp social division in feudal society.15
While the received Yijing text supported the Communist revo-
lutionary historiography, it also subverted it. One area of sub-
version was the bipolarity of yin and yang. Since the 1940s, the
yin-yang polarity had been compared to Hegalian dialectics.16 During
the 1960s, in an overreaching attempt to make the Yijing fit the
Communist revolutionary ideology, some Yijing scholars went so far
as to describe the yin-yang polarity as a form of dialectical thinking.17
To support their view, some scholars quoted Chairman Mao’s say-
ings to justify their search of dialectical thinking in ancient China.18
Quickly the Communist cadres found out the inconsistency in criti-
cizing the Zhouyi for being “primitive” and “superstitious” on the one
hand and accepting its yin-yang polarity as a form of modern think-
ing on the other.
13. See Li Jingchi 1978: 1–19. Although Li’s book was published in 1978, it was
completed in 1963. Due to political reasons, the book was not published until the late
1970s.
14. See Li Jingchi 1978: 8.
15. See Li Jingchi 1978: 151–177. See also Gao 1963: 1–5.
16. See Jin Jingfang, “Yi Tong 易通”(Explaining the Changes [1945]), in Jin
1987: 8–132, esp. 37–38, 124–26.
17. For a summary of the 1960s debate, see Liao 2001: 259–273.
18. See Li Jingchun 1961: 1–5. In the opening section of this book, Li Jingchun
quoted Mao Zedong’s essay “On Contradiction” (Maodun lun) to justify his search for
dialectical thinking in ancient China.
187
The inconsistency was even more glaring when viewed from the
Marxist historical perspective. According to the Marxist view of his-
tory, modern dialectical thinking first appeared in Hegalian ideal-
ism and was perfected in Marxist materialism. The latter emerged in
industrial society, where the distinctions between subject and object,
inner and outer, private and public are clearly defined and diamet-
rically opposite. Hence, modern dialectical thinking is essentially a
tool to overcome the alienation of modern life in which the workers
are separated from the fruits of their labor. According to the logic
of linear progression, the alienation of modern life would not have
existed in the tribalism of the Zhouyi times, nor could the yin-yang
polarity be truly dialectical when the concept was mainly applied to
fortune-telling. To end the discussion before it went out of control,
the Communist cadres created two new terms: “primitive dialectics,”
to refer to the yin-yang polarity in Zhouyi divination, and “modern
dialectics,” to refer to the Marxist analysis of the socioeconomic
structure of an industrial economy.19
YIJING FEVER
Use of the Yijing to support (or to supplant) the Communist revolu-

tionary intellectual agenda continued on into the 1990s. Known as
“Yijing fever,” there was a flurry of publications about the Yijing in the
1980s and 1990s, ranging from the discussion of the origins of the
Yijing to speculation regarding a scientific basis for divination. There
were at least two factors that had led to this “Yijing fever.”20 First and
foremost, a series of new archaeological discoveries in the 1970s
and 1980s provided new empirical data to reopen the debate over
the formation of the Yijing text (see c hapter 4). Among the archaeo-
logical findings, the most important one was the stunning discovery
in 1973 of a Yijing text from a tomb in Mawangdui. Found in the
19. See Liao 2001: 263–264.

20. For a summary of the “Yijing fever,” see Smith 2008: 207–208.
188
tomb of a lord who died in 168 BCE of the Western Han period (206
BCE–9 CE), the Mawangdui Yijing was written on silk. What made
this discovery exciting was that the manuscript contained the entire
Yijing text—the images of the sixty-four hexagrams, the hexagram
and line statements, some commentarial materials that were simi-
lar to the Ten Wings—and yet the sequence of sixty-four hexagrams
was completely different.21 Rather than beginning with Qian and Kun
and ending with Jiji and Weiji as in the received text, the Mawangdui
Yijing manuscript started with Qian and Pi and ended with Jianren
and Yi. In addition, the sixty-four hexagrams are arranged into eight
sequences based on the trigram images.22
This different arrangement of the hexagrams not only called into
question the authority of the received Yijing, but also cast doubt on
traditional commentarial interpretations of the text that were based
on the received hexagram sequence, such as the Xugua (Hexagrams in
Sequence). More importantly, it drew attention to the complex pro-
cess of canonizing the Yijing, since it had circulated in multiple ver-
sions. Above all, the Mawangdui manuscript reopened the Marxist
debate about the history of ancient China, particularly the exact cir-
cumstances in which China evolved from tribalism to feudalism.23
In addition to the new archaeological discoveries, “Yijing fever”
was possible because of the momentous changes in China after the
launch of the opening-up policies of Deng Xiaoping. These quickly
transformed China from a stagnant and insular country into an eco-
nomic power in the global capitalist system. This rapid economic
growth not only led to a robust print market, but also produced a
large number of readers who could afford to buy books. In many
respects, “Yijing fever” was a result of this bloom in the print mar-
ket. By reintroducing an ancient text that could be applied to a wide
variety of topics such as fengshui, self-help, and human psychology,
21. While the entire work is present, some characters are illegible.
22. For a translation of the Mawangdui Yijing manuscript, see Shaughnessy 1996.
23. For a succinct summary of the significance of the Mawandui Yijing manu-
script, see Li Xueqin 2008.
189
Yijing scholars suddenly found a broad audience who were looking

for advice to manage complicated lives in a fast-growing economy.24
Most readers of the Yijing were seeking guidance rather than want-
ing to explore the history of ancient China or the complexity of the
Yijing text. Nevertheless, they found the Yijing inspiring because it
focused on the notion of change—something they constantly faced
in everyday life.
SUBVERTING THE COMMUNIST

HISTORIOGRAPHY
This expansion of the print market also encouraged the curious to

revisit the nature of the Yijing. With a bigger audience and a larger
distribution network, Yijing scholars now could publish (or repub-
lish) their writings even if their viewpoints did not strictly follow
Communist historiography. A prime example of this subtle subver-
sion was the publication of the History of the Philosophy of the Yi
Learning in 1986 by Zhu Bokun (1923–2007), a scholar at Peking
University.25 Though the historicization of the Yijing, beginning in
the 1920s, had separated the Zhouyi from the Yijing, the received
text—whether it was the Zhouyi or the Yijing—was still perceived as
lacking a philosophy. As a divination manual, for instance, the Zhouyi
promoted “superstition” by giving readers the false hope that they
could foresee the future. In both manifestations, the Changes was a
tool of political control and social coercion.
In Zhu Bokun’s book, readers found a different picture of the
Yijing. The received text, he told us, was full of philosophical insights,
including the dialectics of yin and yang, correlative cosmology,
moral metaphysics, and (above all) scientific representations of the
cosmos based on meticulous alignments of numbers, trigrams, and
24. For a summary of the expanded readership of the Yijing in contemporary

China, see Smith 2008: 208–240.
25. See Zhu 1995. The first volume of the book was published in 1986.
190
hexagrams. Furthermore, Zhu included careful studies of the Yijing

commentaries from the Han dynasty to the Qing dynasty, offering a
panoramic view of the Yijing commentarial tradition that had been
out of fashion since the 1920s.26 By emphasizing the significance of
the commentarial tradition in explicating the profound meanings
of the Yijing, Zhu parted company with scholars of the Doubting
Antiquity Movement.
More importantly, Zhu freed the Yijing from the straitjacket of
Communist ideology. Rather than a historical document elucidat-
ing the linear progression of China from its ancient origins, Zhu
presented the Yijing as a living text that focused attention on the
complexity of life in a rapidly changing world. By highlighting the
philosophy of change, he made the Yijing directly relevant to modern
life, when both China and the world were adjusting to the post–Cold
War era. For Zhu, the significance of the Yijing lies not in its revela-
tion of the past, but in its penetrating illumination of the complexity
of the human condition.
26. See Zhu 1995, vols. 2 and 3.
191
C hapter 10
The Yijing’s Journey to the West
In its journey to the West, the Changes has followed a winding path,
as it did in China, where there were always diverse traditions of inter-
pretation. In this chapter we shall examine several of the directions
that Yijing interpretation has taken outside its native country.1 We will
begin with the tradition of scholarly study, which is the primary sub-
ject of the present book, then consider the main modes of the classic’s
adaptation to other Western ways of thought, particularly psychology,
divination practice, and occultism. While the focus of this chapter is on
the West, many of the ideas, particularly the scientific and psychologi-
cal approaches have also made the return journey back to China.
In the scholarly, or sinological, approach, the classic is studied
for its intrinsic interest and as a source of knowledge about the lan-
guage and history of China. Inevitably, scholars are influenced by
their own philosophical and religious predispositions. However, it
is not only scholars who have been fascinated by the Yijing. Many
people approach it seeking spiritual and artistic inspiration, and
they may or may not have an interest what it meant or how it was
used in its native Chinese context. The Yijing would almost certainly
have remained an obscure area for sinological study were it not for
those who, beginning with the immensely influential psychologist
C. G. Jung, sought to present the Yijing as having something to offer
contemporary women and men.
1. An idea of the staggering range of approaches to reinterpreting the Yijing can

be obtained by perusing a recent book-length bibliography enlivened by wry com-
ments. See Hacker et al. 2002.
192
T H E Y I J I N G’S J O U R N E Y TO T H E W E S T
Inevitably, scholars in the West approach the Changes differently

than the literati of premodern China. While philological examination
does not categorically reject traditions regarding texts, it questions
them and attempts to distinguish myth from historical fact. Nor does
it dismiss myth as worthless, but considers it part of the intellectual
context in which the book was read. Meanings are recognized to be
historically conditioned.
Modern textual criticism inevitably uses analytic methods that
were primarily developed in the West. This positivistic methodol-
ogy differs from that of the Chinese literati, whose knowledge was
transmitted through teachers who were part of an unofficial lineage
stretching back across the centuries. To be sure, some were creative
and critical in their interpretations, but few questioned the legends
of culture heroes such as Fu Xi, the Yellow Emperor, King Wen, and
the Duke of Zhou, nor the role of Confucius in editing or composing
the ancient classics.2
A movement toward evidenced-based philology in China became
prominent in the later Qing and was further stimulated as contact
with the West led many educated Chinese to question their tradi-
tions.3 Thus, while the critical approach had definite Chinese roots,
contact with the West stimulated an intense cultural reassessment
that continues to the present day.4 Yet the influence of the West
should not be overstated. Indeed, without Chinese informants, it is
unlikely that either Legge or Wilhelm could have made much sense
of the Chinese text. In the highly technical paleographic work with
excavated manuscripts, only a very few non-Chinese have been able
to attain competence.
That Western approaches have influenced understanding of the
classic illustrates the immense ability of the Yijing to adapt to cultural
2. Culture heroes could be entirely mythical, like Fu Xi, or actual historical per-
sonages, like King Wen, who were idealized.
3. For a discussion of evidenced-based philology in late Qing China, see Elman
2001 and Makeham 2008.
4. Western culture has also re-examined itself, in part due to awareness of the
ways of China.
193
change. Remarkably, a text that once gave advice on human sacrifice

is seen now, however fancifully, as anticipating quantum mechanics
and DNA, and even as a mode of psychotherapy. Just what about the
Changes has made it so fascinating to so many continues to resist
easy explanation. Its ancient origins, long history, cryptic phrases,
and the distinctive diagrams all contribute. However, there is some-
thing more, which has been mysterious for nearly 3,000 years and
perhaps will remain so. Many Westerners, most of whom refer to it
as the “I Ching” (typically mispronounced as “eye ching”), believe the
book to be very profound, despite never having opened it. Of those
who actually have tried to read it, bafflement has been a common
response, though this does not necessarily cause doubt regarding its
profundity. Yet many have made the necessary effort and do come to
understand it, even if they conceive it quite differently than did the
Chinese literati.
THE AMBIVALENCE OF MISSIONARIES:

THE WEST DISCOVERS THE YIJING
The first known mention of the Yijing in a Western publication

appeared in 1687, in a Latin work by Jesuits entitled Confucius
Sinarum Philosophus (Confucius, philosopher of the Chinese). This
included a discussion of the Yijing’s place in Confucian philosophy.
The earliest complete translation, also in Latin, appeared in the
1830s, though work had started in 1707.5 These early Jesuit works
summarized the Changes’ place in Confucian thought with notable
accuracy. The ostensible motive for these ordained Catholic scholars
was to use their knowledge of the Chinese classics to aid in conver-
sion of the Chinese—though one suspects they perhaps felt some of
the allure of this exotic scripture. These were sober, scholarly men
who had spent most of their lives in study, and they continued the
5. For an account of early Western translations of the Yijing, see Smith

2011: 180‒194.
194
meticulousness that they had developed in their years of Latin study

in their work with the Chinese classics.
The most famous of the early Jesuits missionaries in China was
Matteo Ricci (b. 1552) who lived in the Middle Kingdom from 1582
until his death in 1610. Ricci respected the culture of the educated
Chinese, wore the garments of a Confucian literatus, and learned
to speak Chinese fluently, despite the lack of any bilingual diction-
aries. He used the deep knowledge that he had acquired to portray
Christianity to the Chinese court as the culmination of their own
Confucian tradition, though with minimal success.
A later missionary, Joachim Bouvet, S.J. (b. 1656), who first
arrived in China in 1688 and died there in 1730, was probably the
first Westerner to fully succumb to the fascination of the Yijing.
Like Ricci, he was highly educated in the sciences and mathemat-
ics of the day and was especially appreciated by the imperial court
for his knowledge of astronomy. Because celestial anomalies, such
as eclipses, could be interpreted by dissident elements as signs
that the emperor had lost the mandate of heaven, they could be
used to foment rebellion. The greater accuracy of predictions pos-
sible with Western astronomy thus had political value for those
in power.
Bouvet produced several works in Latin that attempted to show
that the Yijing and other Chinese classics contained Christian revela-
tion. Matteo Ricci had also subscribed to this doctrine, which was
called figurism. This was a stratagem that allowed the missionaries to
present their religion as related to the Confucian tradition, recogniz-
ing that it would otherwise be unacceptable to those in power. Back
in Europe, figurism became the subject of what was called the rites
controversy and was eventually suppressed.
It is a striking fact that the first major Western scholars and
translators of the Yijing were all Christian missionaries who spent
many years in China: Bouvet, McClatchie, Legge, and Wilhelm. The
last in this lineage of missionary-translators was Richard Rutt, who
published his work in 1996. Christianity colored all of their attitudes
toward the classic, but in quite different ways. While McClatchie,
195
Legge, and Rutt, displayed a somewhat adversarial approach to the

Changes, Bouvet and Wilhelm professed great admiration for it.
Bouvet spent much of his time during his many years in China study-
ing it and convinced himself that it contained the entire Christian
revelation. Like Shao Yong, whose work he knew, Bouvet created
complex diagrams to illustrate his metaphysics.6 Despite his years
of study of the text, Bouvet never produced a Western-language
translation.
With the exception of Richard Wilhelm, the Protestant mis-
sionary translators of the Yijing all expressed disdain for it, even as
they expended years of effort to render it into their own language.
McClatchie regarded it as pagan superstition, and Legge was gen-
erally critical of the Chinese classics, a not-unusual attitude among
missionaries. To be fair, much of the Yijing text, at least on the
surface, does seem peculiar, even nonsensical. However, underly-
ing their criticisms one senses an attitude of defensiveness. It was
a shock to many Westerners to discover a civilization as advanced
as their own whose people had never heard of the Christian rev-
elation—and were generally uninterested when they did. The mis-
sionaries explained this resistance as due to the reverence that the
Chinese held for the Yijing and the other Confucian classics, which
thus constituted a major barrier to their conversion. Missionary
resentment toward these works was exacerbated by their inabil-
ity to convince the Chinese that they were inferior to the Bible.
Indeed, it was only much later, and in response not to religion but
to Western technology, that the Chinese did seriously question the
value of their ancient texts.
In contrast to Ricci and Bouvet, who wrote about the Chinese in
respectful terms, later proselytizers often wrote in terms reminis-
cent of the early Christian attacks on the unconverted pagans. Thus
Rev. Canon Thomas McClatchie’s preface to his translation refers to
Chinese and other non-Christians with the derogatory term “hea-
thens,” as in the following:
6. One of Bouvet’s elaborate diagrams is reproduced in Smith 2012: 176.
196
Missionary translators are especially liable to fall into the mis-

take of endeavoring to Christianize heathen classics, which prob-
ably arises from their earnest wish to find some knowledge of the
true God in these writings.7
McClatchie insisted on imposing his notions of comparative mythol-

ogy—themselves fallacious—on the Changes:
This ancient Classic not only gives us with great clearness the
material system set up at Babel, and which is found with more or
less minuteness in all Heathen Philosophical writing throughout
the world, but in it we find the most ancient form of Triplication,
namely, that of both the Great Father and the Great Mother, thus
making a family of Eight principal deities. . . .8
Yet McClatchie was not entirely negative toward Chinese thought,

which he connected to one of the more respected schools of “pagan”
philosophy:
A study of this and the other classics . . . has at least convinced

myself that Confucianism and western Stoicism are identically
the same.9
It is easy to feel smarter than McClatchie, whose translation has been

much criticized, as have his mistaken attempts to correlate all forms
of “heathen” mythology. But in his work we can see common pat-
terns of misinterpretation that arise on first encounter with unfamil-
iar ideas. Initial efforts at comprehension often construe the new as
variants of what is already known. Additionally, one senses what is
now referred to as “culture shock.” Ricci and Bouvet reacted by trying
7. McClatchie 1876: iv.
8. McClatchie 1872: 152.
9. McClatchie 1876: vi. The comparison with stoicism is not altogether off the
mark because both philosophies emphasize virtue and its development through assid-
uous self-cultivation.
197
to make the Chinese classics, which they knew well, into concealed
forms of the Christian revelation. McClatchie responded in the
opposite way, regarding the Chinese as benighted heathens who were
ignorant of the true God.
Though it is more apparent in his articles than in his translation,
McClatchie also seemed troubled by what seemed to him sexual sym-
bolism. There is perhaps a hint of such symbolism in the different
titles of the Qian and Kun hexagrams in the Mawangdui version—
respectively, Jian (Key, really “door bolt”) 鍵 and Chuan (Flow), as
translated by Shaughnessy. However, while one can see how these
might be analogous to male and female genitalia, this symbolism
does not recur in the rest of the Zhouyi. In this it differs from the
roughly contemporaneous Shijing, or Book of Songs, which does con-
tain frequent rather direct references to sexuality.10 Clearly, Bronze
Age Chinese were quite capable of employing overt sexual symbolism
when they wanted to.
James Legge, who must be considered as one of the greatest
translators of the Chinese classics, produced the first usable English
version of the Yijing. He was a missionary in China for many years
and eventually became the first professor of Chinese at Oxford
University. Legge’s Christianity had an insistent quality somewhat
akin to that of McClatchie, his fellow Scot. Unlike McClatchie, he
approached translation with an objective spirit and did not impose
his pet ideologies upon the text, though he expressed them freely in
his prolix introductions to some of the other classics. As a result of his
critical approach, his translations are still useful, while McClatchie’s
are merely a curiosity. If there is a fault in Legge’s versions, it is not
inaccuracy but their ponderous and verbose style.
Richard Wilhelm has unquestionably been the most influential
translator of the Yijing, through his German version, rendered into
English by Cary F. Baynes. Though Wilhelm also came to China as a
10. These were later explained by the prudish Confucian literati as metaphors rep-
resenting the love of officials for their ruler. The Zhouyi does contain sexual references,
though these are infrequent. An example is hexagram 18 Gu discussed in c hapter 5.
198
missionary, he became an admirer of Chinese culture and is said to

have boasted of never having converted a single Chinese. Rather than
confining himself to the German missionary communities of the city
of Qingdao where he resided, Wilhelm associated with traditionally
educated Chinese literati. His 1928 memoir is an interesting picture
of the way of life of traditional China that was about to disappear
forever.
Wilhelm regarded the Changes as a repository of wisdom to be
offered to readers in the West: “It is my firm conviction that any-
one who really assimilates the essence of the Book of Changes will be
enriched thereby in experience and in true understanding of life.”11
He did not suggest an explicitly Christian message, but did some-
times refer to God in his commentary, as with hexagram 58 Dui兌
(Joyous): “In this way one assumes the right attitude toward God and
man and achieves something.”12
At the time Wilhelm wrote, it was unlikely that anyone would
find such references as problematic, but they alter the tone of the
original, which contains no reference to a monotheistic deity. The fig-
urist movement, eager to find Christianity in the Chinese classics,
interpreted references in the Five Classics to Shangdi 上帝, the “high
god,” as being to the God of the Bible. This term occurs only twice in
the Zhouyi and not in contexts suggestive of monotheism.13
Wilhelm was possibly the first Westerner to consider the ethi-
cal and philosophical aspects of the Yijing in themselves, rather
than in relation to Christianity. His love for the book is expressed in
many places, such as when in the 1923 preface to his translation he
describes his happiness at finding a “beautiful edition” of the Yijing
which “has accompanied me on many a journey, halfway round the
globe.”14 He hopes that his readers will also find inspiration in the
11. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: lxii.

13. In Chinese works, the character for heaven, tian (天), gradually supplanted
Shangdi. Though commentaries continue to be written on the Yijing from a Christian
perspective, these are based on faith rather than textual evidence.
14. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxvi.
199
ancient book: “May the same joy in pure wisdom be the part of those
who read the translation as was mine when I worked upon it.”15 Yet
Wilhelm’s appreciation of Chinese philosophy did not lead him to
renounce Christianity, of which he remarks on the last page of his
memoir: “Jesus, while accepting and affirming life, has created in
man that inner attitude which alone is . . . [t]‌he only means to enable
man not to be crushed.16
Wilhelm’s attitude toward the classic is perhaps the predominant
one among its admirers today: It is seen as a work of sagely wisdom,
but not one that competes with other religions. Wilhelm began his
introduction to his translation with these words:
The Book of Changes . . . is unquestionably one of the most impor-

tant books in the world’s literature.17
While it was certainly one of the most important in East Asia,

it was only with Wilhelm’s translation into German, from which
the Yijing was rendered into English, French, and many other
languages, that the Changes truly became a world classic. In anal-
ogy to Churchill’s famous phrase about democracy, we might say
that Wilhelm’s work is not a good translation, just better than all
the other ones. Its literary qualities (for which, in English, Cary
Baynes also must be credited) make it by far the most readable.18
While the others aimed simply at literal accuracy with a text they
did not much admire, Wilhelm aspired to bring alive the wisdom
traditionally associated with the Yijing. An external factor was
also crucial to its success: It appeared at a time when the West was
disillusioned with its own traditions and eager for “wisdom from
the East.”
15. Wilhelm 1967: xlvi.

16. Wilhelm 1928: 373.
17. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xlvii.
18. Even if currently the best translation, Wilhelm-Baynes cannot be regarded as
definitive. For discussion of the pros and cons of the other important English transla-
tions, see chapter 11.
200
It is both the strength and the limitation of Wilhelm’s translation

that his rendering was based on the fully traditional views among the
Chinese literati of his time. Some Chinese philologists were already
questioning the traditional accounts regarding the origins and mean-
ings of the Yijing, but we find little of this skepticism in Wilhelm.
Indeed, of his informant, Lao Nai-hsuan (1843–1921), Irene Eber
said:
Unlike many of his generation, whose views of China’s classical

writings were already undergoing subtle transformation, Lao’s
approach seems entirely traditional.19
Eber also notes that Wilhelm’s intent was to communicate what the
Changes meant to Chinese. He clearly regarded it as spiritual in that it
penetrates more deeply from the conscious life of the human

being into unconscious spheres . . . relaying a unified image of
cosmos-soul experience. This transcends the individual, reaching
mankind’s collective existence.20
To be sure there is a new element here—the psychological language

of conscious and unconscious spheres, but no explicit revisionism.
Richard Rutt (1925–2011) was the last in the tradition of scholar-
missionaries in Asia, but one of the first Westerners to incorporate
the findings of the early twentieth-century Chinese philologists who
reconstructed the Western Zhou meanings (see chapter 5). After
ordination as an Anglican priest, he served in a small village in Korea
and learned classical Chinese, used by traditionally educated Koreans
in that era. His interest was awakened by local men who “loved the
Book of Changes and initiated me into the philosopher’s way of read-
ing it.”21 After his retirement he devoted himself to serious study of
19. Eber, Irene in Wilhelm 1979: xiv f.

20. Eber, Irene in Wilhelm 1979: xvii.
21. Rutt 1996: ix.
201
the classic, and was influenced by the work of Shaughnessy22 and

Kunst23 in presenting the restored early meanings in English transla-
tion. His book includes a great deal of detailed explanatory material,
which is of immense value to those interested in understanding the
early development of the Zhouyi.
Like the earlier missionary translators, Rutt expended enormous
effort in producing a translation of the difficult text, but also like
McClatchie and Legge, he took a somewhat adversarial stance toward
it. While devoting an entire chapter to “The Fascination of Zhouyi,”
Rutt sums up his view of the classic as follows:
There is good reason for regarding Zhouyi as a classic religious

text, because it was originally used in communication with spir-
its . . . but this is not to say that either Zhouyi or Yijing is a work
of spirituality. Indeed, when Yijing is compared with the Davidic
Psalms, some of which are possibly the same age, or with the
Heart Sutra, its lack of spirituality becomes apparent.24
Rutt is to be credited for expressing his opinion directly, yet his is

nearly opposite to that of Wilhelm quoted above. In part the differ-
ence may be that Rutt is mainly referring to the Western Zhou mean-
ings while Wilhelm was instructed in the Confucianized tradition
as understood in the late Qing. We get a further sense of why Rutt
denies any spirituality to the Changes in the following:
Confucianism is a religion in which the ritual and ethical over-

whelm the transcendental. Therefore acceptance into the
Confucian canon was unlikely to make the Yijing spiritual.
[The Zhouyi and the Ten Wings do not] . . . mention prayer or
meditation.25
22. In particular, Shaughnessy 1983.

23. Kunst 1985.
24. Rutt 1996: 49.
25. Rutt 1996: 49f.
202
Implicit in this seems to be the assumption that to be spiritual, a

system of thought must be theistic.
While there is no evident theism in the Yijing, there is a tran-
scendental element in that the very act of divination implies a larger
reality, a cosmos, however impersonal, that can offer guidance to
humans through divination. This is tacit in the Zhouyi, but explicit
in the Dazhuan (Great Commentary) of the Ten Wings. From Rutt’s
own translation:
Yi, being aligned with heaven and earth,

can wholly set forth the dao of heaven and earth.
Yi looks up to observe the patterns of heaven,
and looks down to observe the veins of earth.
Thus:
it knows the causes of darkness and light,
origins and ends;
it comprehends the meaning of birth and death. . . . 26
Many would regard this as pointing to the Dao as transcendent,

though not anthropomorphic. Perhaps it is just the impersonality of
these spiritual attributes of the Changes that makes it attractive to
the many moderns who do not find a personal God or gods plausible,
but do have a sense of a spiritual presence in the universe.
Rutt emphasizes something important that less knowledge-
able admirers of the Changes tend to overlook: The Zhouyi contains
much material that is disturbing from a modern ethical perspec-
tive. It never questions social hierarchy and expresses no qualms
about the sacrifice of captives. Rutt thus provides us with a nec-
essary reminder that life and attitudes were quite different in the
Bronze Age.27
26. Rutt 1996: 411.

27. This terrible practice also existed in the West. It is the subject of a famous
episode in the Iliad, and some argue that the heresy and witchcraft persecutions and
the contemporary death penalty are equivalent to human sacrifice.
203
Rutt and Wilhelm can be seen as representing the two direc-

tions of Yijing studies: on the one hand, scholarship that is critical
and aimed at recovering the early meanings and demythologizing
and, on the other, scholarship that regards the Yijing as a spiritual
classic with value for the contemporary world. Inevitably the two
approaches clash about some aspects, though the best works of the
latter type still respect the Chinese original.
THE YIJING AS DEPTH PSYCHOLOGY
In the West, outside of academia, the most prevalent contemporary

approach to the Yijing is the psychological one. This is part of a much
wider cultural pattern in which psychology, in various forms, has
become the predominant means of understanding the human condi-
tion. Religion is explained as being about the human mind, rather
than about an objective or external reality. This has been particularly
prevalent in presentations of Eastern religions, in part because they
became widely available in translation in the present era. The influen-
tial popularizer of Zen, Alan Watts, wrote:
If we look deeply into such ways of life as Buddhism and Taoism,

Vedanta and Yoga, we do not find either philosophy or religion
as these are understood in the West. We find something more
clearly resembling psychotherapy.28
While Watts was not referring here to the Yijing, he clearly expresses
the mind-set of the time, including the tendency to present all the
religions of Asia as basically the same. Whether Watts really believed
this is not clear, he was unquestionably well-read on Asian religion.
However, the claim that these traditions were not really religion was a
way to make them appealing to the many Westerners who were disil-
lusioned with their own traditions—as Watts, an ordained Episcopal
28. Watts 1975: 3.
204
priest, was with Christianity. Casting Asian religion as psychother-

apy met with little argument, since at that time few in the West had
any direct familiarity with Buddhism, Daoism, or the Yijing itself.
Much scholarship on Asian religious traditions since Watts’s time
has been concerned to refute this rationalist view in favor of a bet-
ter sense of how these traditions actually functioned in their own
cultures. An example is the work of Sharf, who strongly criticizes the
Western representation of Buddhism.29 While the Yijing is a different
tradition—though at times seen through the lenses of Daoism and
Buddhism—it has been appropriated in the same way, by construing
it as basically about psychology. This, in turn, has influenced Chinese
thinking about their own classic.
To understand the Yijing as was understood in premodern China, it
is necessary to disentangle it from the modern psychological notions
that have been superimposed upon it. At the same time, although the
Yijing hardly resembles a psychology text, it was used as a way to self-
understanding and so can be seen as meeting human needs similar to
those addressed by modern psychology and self-help. Yet it contains
nothing like the familiar truisms of current psychology: the role of
early childhood trauma; the need for liberation from repression, espe-
cially sexual; the existence of the unconscious’ or the Oedipus complex.
CARL JUNG, ARCHETYPAL PSYCHOLOGY, AND

THE YIJING
Without doubt, Carl Jung has been the most influential Western
commentator on the Yijing. In his 1949 foreword to the now-iconic
Wilhelm-Baynes translation, Jung begins with a modest disclaimer,
“I am not a sinologue,” then goes on to warn the reader:
If the meaning of the Book of Changes were easy to grasp, the work
would need no Foreword. But this is far from being the case, for
29. For a general critique of Western adaptations of Buddhism, see Sharf 2005.
205
there is so much that is obscure about it, that Western schol-

ars have tended to dispose of it as a collection of “magic spells,”
either too abstruse to be intelligible, or of no value whatsoever.
Legge’s translation . . . has done little to make the work accessible
to Western minds. Wilhelm, however, has made every effort to
open the way to an understanding of the symbolism of the text.30
Jung goes on to explain that Wilhelm’s experience with the Yijing

gives him particular credibility: He was instructed in its philosophical
meanings by a Chinese “sage” and “had over a period of many years
put the peculiar technique of the oracle into practice.”31
This opening statement puts the reader on notice that this will be
a fundamental reassessment of the ancient Chinese classic. All the
themes that have since come to dominate Western attitudes toward
the Yijing are here: The work is more than a sinological curiosity, of
interest only to a few specialists. Rather, it is a system of profound
symbolism. Wilhelm was uniquely qualified to transmit this timeless
work to us because its ancient lineage was passed to him by a Chinese
scholar learned in the traditional understanding of the classic. Also,
and this is a particularly important new element, Wilhelm used the
Yijing in his own life. The strange text is more than an ancient artifact;
if approached with proper respect, it is a deeply spiritual work that
can illuminate our own lives. The Yijing is not just a book, it is also a
practice, a way of self-cultivation—which is how the Yijing has been
conceived by its Western admirers and practitioners ever since. Yet,
as Jung himself acknowledged, it is not for everyone. Many pick up
the book out of curiosity and find themselves unable to make any
sense of it. Scholars tend to approach the Yijing as a text to be expli-
cated and are skeptical about it as a practice, though there are signifi-
cant exceptions.
Even apart from Jung’s foreword, Wilhelm’s translation itself
has a psychologizing tendency. How much this was due to his prior
30. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxi.

31. Jung 1949: xxi.
206
friendship with Jung and how much to other influences is impossible

to say. An additional question is how much of the psychological lan-
guage was added by Cary F. Baynes, who rendered the German into
the best-selling English version. Baynes, a Johns Hopkins medical
school graduate, worked closely with Jung for many years and helped
edit The Red Book,32 though she never practiced psychoanalysis her-
self. The use of psychological language in the Wilhelm-Baynes trans-
lation is subtle and does not significantly detract from its value, but
it should be kept in mind that many of its phrases are of the modern
West, not traditional China. So familiar has the language of psychol-
ogy become that it is easy to overlook these anachronisms.
As a randomly chosen example, here is Wilhelm’s translation
of line 6 of hexagram 58 Dui 兑 (Joyous): “Six at the top means:
Seductive joyousness.” Wilhelm interprets this as: “He has given
up the direction of his own life; and what becomes of him depends
on chance and external influences.”33 Traditional Chinese commen-
tators interpreted this line text in a variety of ways, but read it as
about being led to joy, or about the danger of intemperate pleasure-
seeking.34 Although Chinese certainly reflected on their lives and the
effect of external events upon them, the phrase “direction of one’s
life” is more characteristic of the modern era of self-help.
Jung summarizes the function of the Yijing when he states
that “it is obvious that this book represents one long admonition
to careful scrutiny of one’s own character, attitude, and motives.”35
For Jung, as for the Chinese literati, psychological self-exploration
involves examination of one’s character in order to develop not only
self-understanding but also such virtues as unselfishness, strength
under pressure, persistence, and concern for others. These are culti-
vated through study, as conveyed in the famous opening line of the
Lunyu: “The Master said, ‘Is it not pleasant to learn with a constant
32. Jung 2009.

33. Wilhelm 1967: 226.
34. Lynn 1994: 510 f.
35. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxxiv.
207
perseverance and application?’ ”36 Learning, though it is to be enjoyed,

also requires diligence—one should strive to improve oneself and
find satisfaction in so doing. This emphasis is quite different from
that of much psychotherapy, which involves overcoming inhibitions,
often expressing anger at one’s parents, and other non-Confucian
personality adjustments.
Still, Jung’s characterization of the Yijing as being an admoni-
tion to self-scrutiny and character development is consistent with
Chinese tradition. Nor was Jung the first to hold such ideas: Leibniz
had believed China to be a better-ordered society than his own—tak-
ing the Confucian ideal for actuality—and Bouvet had devoted much
of his life to his Christian interpretation of the Yijing. Yet they were
mainly interested to confirm what they already believed. Wilhelm
and Jung, though they projected their own views on the Yijing, also
appreciated the classic for how it differed from their native spiritual
traditions. In their different ways, each was both scholar and seeker.
Jung’s account of the Yijing is not beyond criticism. His unreflec-
tive references to “the Chinese mind” and to the “primitive mind,”
now seem condescending and essentializing. Despite these lapses,
common in their era, respect for the Changes and the philosophy
underlying it are evident throughout his writing about it.
Jung saw himself as reintegrating the pre-rational heritage of
humanity with the modern scientific outlook. This did not mean
abandoning rationality, but giving the nonrational its due as an
irreducible part of the human psyche. In contrast to Freud, who
regarded his sexual theory of human mental functioning as the bul-
wark against the “black mud of occultism,” Jung was comfortable
with these usually marginalized aspects of human consciousness. As
a result he was able to greatly extend the boundaries of Western psy-
chology to include the dimension of spirituality. Jung commented,
“In the exploration of the unconscious we come upon very strange
things, from which a rationalist turns away in horror, claiming after-
ward that he did not see anything. The irrational fullness of life has
36. Legge 1893: 123.
208
taught me never to discard anything, even when it goes against all

our theories. . . .”37
Jung’s interest was not simply theoretical—he believed that the
Yijing, as well as other traditional ways of thought such as alchemy,
could be interpreted as practical aids for the quest for personal fulfill-
ment.38 His psychological theories contributed little to the clinical
treatment of mental disorders. Instead, his great achievement was
cultural—recasting traditional myth and beliefs into forms more
acceptable to the scientific age. With the aphorism, “the gods have
become diseases,” he placed religious entities in the collective and
individual unconscious as “archetypes,” ideas built into the human
mind and recurring despite their “primitive” nature. Mythical and
supernatural thinking were not primitive ignorance, but rather the
archetypes that conferred meaning on human life.
Whether Jung’s theories (or Freud’s) are truly scientific is doubt-
ful. They were systematic, but as they are about subjectivity they do
not lend themselves to experimental verification. Certainly Jung was
not the final authority on the subjects he wrote about, whether the
Yijing, alchemy, mythology—or even psychology. Yet his influence is
inescapable. The notion that reconnecting with humanity’s spiritual
heritage could have therapeutic benefits has become widely influen-
tial. For better or worse, it is almost impossible now to look at these
supernatural or mythical phenomena except through the lens of psy-
chological language. This also reinvents divination for our skeptical
age. Once assumed to be a way to communicate with supernatural
entities, by moving the entities into the mind, divination could be
practiced as a way of exploring one’s unconscious mind.
While the psychological interpretation of the Yijing enhances its
credibility in the modern world, it should not be forgotten that this
remains a reductionist approach. In the words of Stephen Karcher,
37. Jung 1949: xxxiv.

38. Jung interpreted alchemical writings not as recipes for transmuting base met-
als into gold, but as symbolic of the processes of personal transformation. This aspect
of his work occupied more of his attention, but has been considerably less influential,
than his writings on the Yijing and synchronicity.
209
prolific translator of multiple versions of the Yijing into English and

participant in the Jung-inspired Eranos conferences:
The I Ching can give you a mirror of the hidden forces at work in
your unconscious. . . . What we call the unconscious, the ancient
world called the world of gods and spirits.39
Jung himself is not so reductive in his explanation of the Changes.

He writes: “If the I Ching is not accepted by the conscious, at least
the unconscious meets it halfway, and the I Ching is more closely con-
nected with the unconscious than with the rational attitude of con-
sciousness.”40 Notably, Jung did not suggest the Yijing could be fully
explained in psychological terms. Indeed, he evades this issue, con-
cluding his foreword thus:
As to the thousands of questions, doubts, and criticisms that this

singular book stirs up—I cannot answer these. The I Ching does
not offer itself with proofs and results; it does not vaunt itself,
nor is it easy to approach. . . . It offers neither facts nor power,
but for lovers of self-knowledge, of wisdom—if there be such—it
seems to be the right book. . . . He who is not pleased by it does
not have to use it. . . .41
SYNCHRONICITY
Jung made another important contribution to Western acceptance of

the Yijing—his concept of synchronicity, which he defined as
a certain curious principle

.
.
.
a concept that formu-
lates a point of view diametrically opposed to that of
39. Karcher 1997: 12.

40. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxxii.
41. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxxix.
210
causality. . . . [S]‌ynchronicity takes the coincidence of events in

space and time as meaning something more than mere chance,
namely, a peculiar interdependence of objective events among
themselves, as well as with the subjective (psychic) states of the
observer or observers.42
Elsewhere Jung termed synchronicity “a non-causal connecting prin-

ciple.”43 How a connecting principle can be the opposite of causal-
ity is a conundrum. Jung states that causality is statistical, which is
true in science—the nature of scientific truths is that they can be
demonstrated repeatedly. So what Jung seems to be saying is that
synchronicities are single events and therefore not empirically verifi-
able. Since each moment has its own character, the same situation
never repeats itself. Synchronicities have meaning, but of a different
sort than science.
It is this sort of experience that the Yijing is about. Although Jung
does not state it directly, the situation with psychotherapy—or per-
sonal advice of any kind—is similar. Each patient’s problem is unique
and occurs at a time with its own qualities. A good therapist recog-
nizes this and will have different approaches for different patients—
or even the same patient at different times.
Psychological studies demonstrate that the human mind is pre-
disposed to interpret coincidental events as causally connected.44
While science cannot find a relation between the chance selection of
a hexagram and the question asked, humans often do find signifi-
cance in such events. The usefulness of the concept of synchronicity
is giving a name to this sort of subjective experience.
In his foreword to the Wilhelm-Baynes translation, Jung gives two
instances of his use of the Yijing and another example of a synchron-
icity involving one of his psychotherapy patients. Jung first asks the
Changes regarding “my intention to present it to the Western mind,”
42. Jung 1973; 1949: xxiv.

43. Jung’s writings on synchronicity are usefully collected in Jung 1973.
44. Vyse 1997: 60 et passim.
211
obtaining hexagram 50 Ding (The Cauldron).45 Jung construes by

this hexagram that the Yijing “contain[s]‌spiritual nourishment,” but
that it “is complaining . . . that its excellent qualities go unrecognized
and hence lie fallow.”46 By means of a changing line, Jung obtained a
second hexagram, 35 Jin (Progress), interpreted as “someone who
meets with all sorts of vicissitudes of fortune in his climb upward.”47
In this context he takes it to mean that the Yijing has not always been
appreciated, but that its situation is improving. Jung openly admits
that someone else might have interpreted the hexagram differently.
But it is the personal meaning that matters; a divination response
has no objective meaning.
In a second step in this divination, Jung obtained hexagram 29
Kan (The Abysmal) changing to 48 Jing (The Well). Both hexa-
grams contain phrases that seem unfavorable, but Jung interprets
them as cautionary rather than ominous: “[T]‌he I Ching represented a
deep and dangerous water hole into which one might easily be mired.
However the water hole proved to be an old well that needed only
to be renovated in order to be put to useful purposes once more.”48
Jung adds that the well contains the “water of life.” Given his evident
enthusiasm for the Yijing, it seems probable that Jung would have
found a way to read whatever oracle he received as favorable for its
introduction into the West. Yet this interpretation is very much in
the spirit of the Yijing, which usually alerts the inquirer to possible
pitfalls rather than pessimistically predicting unhappy outcomes.
As he consults it, Jung imagines the Yijing as personified: As a
“Chinese sage would smilingly tell me: ‘Don’t you see how useful the
I Ching is in making you project your hitherto unrealized thoughts
45. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxvi–xxxiii. The name of hexagram 50 Ding (鼎)
refers to a specific type of ritual bronze vessel, a cauldron, widely cast in the Shang and
Zhou with a technology imitated in later dynasties. The prognostication is auspicious
as the bronze vessel was used for ritual commemoration of favorable events, such as
enfeoffment of nobles.
46. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxvii.
47. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxxii.
48. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: xxxv–xxxviii.
212
into its abstruse symbolism?”49 While advancing his notion of syn-

chronicity, Jung shrewdly avoids proffering any theory about why
Yijing divinations can so often be strikingly on-target:
The Chinese standpoint does not concern itself as to the attitude

one takes toward the performance of the oracle. It is only we who
are puzzled, because we trip time and again over . . . the notion of
causality.50
He goes on to remark, “The less one thinks about the theory of the
I Ching, the more soundly one sleeps,”51 which hints at something
supernatural, but does not claim this explicitly. His phrase is sugges-
tive in the same way as is Hamlet’s famous, “There are more things
in Heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philoso-
phy.”52 Both imply a hidden reality without saying anything about
its nature.
As a physician, Jung had a scientific background, yet he had
grown up in an atmosphere of spiritualism. As a university stu-
dent, he frequently attended séances conducted by his maternal
cousin, Helene Preiswerk, in which she seemed to be taken over
by the personalities of different deceased relatives.53 His frequent
attendance at her séances made him more comfortable with such
phenomena and led to his granting them an important place in
his psychological theories. It also accounts for his evident ambiv-
alence about the objective reality of the supernatural. Despite
ours being a nominally scientific age, it can be argued that the
ambivalence Jung displays toward the supernatural is widespread
under the surface of modern culture. Numerous examples could
be given, from psychic hotlines, to the current best-seller status
of novels involving the paranormal. Despite all the psychological

52. Hamlet I.v.
53. Jung 2009: 7.
213
explanations of the use of the Yijing, there are probably many who
believe, or would like to believe, that there is something mystical
about it.
Though we must grant Jung an important place in the long
history of Yijing exegesis, this does not mean that psychology is
what the Yijing is really about, no more than we should consider
the reconstructed Western Zhou meanings, or Zhu Xi’s readings, or
Shao Yong’s numerology, or any other specific interpretive frame-
work as what it was really about. As a scriptural work, the Yijing
is about all these, and more. Perhaps the most mysterious thing
about the Yijing is its adaptability in fitting into cultures remote
from each other in time and space. Whether the psychological
Yijing is its final incarnation we cannot know, even by consulting
the classic itself.
While the concept of synchronicity has found its way into pop-
ular culture, others have sometimes made the concept into some-
thing much more extravagant than did Jung himself. For example,
F. David Peat:
While science has an awesome power . . . it is also clear that its

essential fragmentation of nature is no longer able to address
all the major problems that face the world today. Synchronicity,
however, with its sensitivity to harmony and the indivisibility of
consciousness, humanity and nature at least opens up the pos-
sibility of a new approach.54
This seems to say that, unlike science, synchronicity can bring on

a transformation of consciousness and a new and better age. Here,
the concept of synchronicity becomes so inflated as to lose its mean-
ing. Although Jung clearly regarded synchronicity as a positive form
of experience, he made no claim that it would fundamentally alter
human society.
54. Peat 1987: 146.
214
CONTEMPORARY PSYCHOLOGY AND

THE YIJING
Though it cannot be said that the Yijing has entered the mainstream
of contemporary psychotherapy, some psychologists do find a place
for it. One example is John Suler who discusses the application of
the Yijing in psychotherapy, though not as a divinatory method to
induce synchronicities. Instead, he suggests using the eight trigrams
as visual symbols to represent the process of psychotherapy. Thus he
uses the Changes as it was in China, as a correlative scheme, though
with new associations. In his conception, the trigrams are given psy-
chological meanings. Thus Xun 巽 (wind) refers to the need to be
gentle and gradual in psychotherapy; 29 Kan坎 (The Abysmal) is
descent into the depths of the unconscious; Gen艮 (mountain)
represents times when therapist and client seem to be stuck; Zhen 震
(thunder) is shock; Qian 乾 (heaven) is the fundamental life
drive; and so on.55 Once again we see the flexibility of the Changes in
adapting itself to entirely new modes of thought radically different
from those of the Western Zhou, or even the late Qing. Suler’s asso-
ciations are plausible, but differ fundamentally from those of tradi-
tional China in that they are personal, not culture-wide.56
It is plausible that the Yijing could be useful in psychotherapy—if
therapist and client find it consistent with their values and beliefs.
Many are attracted to alternative therapies and see their use as an
indication of open-mindedness on the part of the therapist. Others
may be put off by its seemingly unscientific nature; still others may
feel it conflicts with their religious beliefs. Many are simply not
interested. That the Yijing might be an effective tool in clinical psy-
chology need not imply any mysterious mechanism. Methods of
55. Suler 1993: 220‒239.

56. Not only the Yijing, but other complex divinatory systems, function as “stu-
pendous filing systems.” They are akin to ars memorativa, or the “art of memory,” in
providing a template upon which the mind can organize large amounts of information.
A familiar example is astrology, in which clusters of personality traits are associated
with zodiac positions. The classic work is Yates 1966.
215
psychotherapy are diverse but studies have consistently shown that

it is the therapist, not the supposed method, that most influences
how much the client is helped.
As another aspect of the contemporary psychological under-
standing of the Yijing, we can briefly consider the work of Carol
Anthony who has authored several books and conducted workshops
on the Changes for many years. Since 1998 she has collaborated with
Hanna Moog, who previously had worked for a German publisher on
Yijing-related material.
Their version, entitled I Ching: The Oracle of the Cosmic Way, is not
a translation but an adaptation—there is no indication that either
Anthony or Moog knows any Chinese, or even made much use of
English-language scholarship. Nonetheless, it has some interest as
two peoples’ experience of the Yijing over many years of seeking its
guidance. Like many contemporary readers, they are troubled by it’s
complete acceptance of hierarchy as the natural ordering of society.
They come to terms with hierarchy in the Changes as follows:
This catalogue of mistaken ideas remains yet today as a feudal

mindset that guides our thinking. It is this litany of ideas that
has separated us from the Cosmic Whole, and the love and help
that are available from the Cosmos.57
Unquestionably the Zhouyi counsels acceptance of one’s place in the

hierarchy, as did Confucianism throughout its history. Removing this
“feudal” element from the classics fundamentally alters their mean-
ing. It should not be forgotten that the Yijing was used for decisions
about practical affairs and that defiance of authority was unlikely
to end happily. It is also true that Confucianism had a tradition of
remonstrance against unjust governance, but this never extended to
a critique of hierarchy itself.
Anthony and Moog invert this content to read it as warning of the
harm done to oneself by unconscious feudal thinking. This is not how
57. Anthony and Moog 2002: 10.
216
the Chinese saw it, of course. It also ignores the function of the oracle
to help the inquirer accord with the realities of society. The reference
to the “Cosmic Whole” and “love” are New Age additions, more char-
acteristic of A Course in Miracles than the Yijing. Nevertheless, Hanna
Moog writes that she had a spiritual breakthrough when she realized
that the Yijing was not about change but about “transformation.” The
implication is that they have understood aspects of the classic that
its commentators in traditional China missed. Certainly, if these New
Age notions were present, the Chinese commentators did miss them.
In his foreword to Anthony and Moog’s adaptation of the
Yijing, Brian Donohue extols what is offered as a new interpreta-
tion: “Change is movement confined to the outer plane of experience,
while transformation is movement on the inner plane, to which the
outer plane responds spontaneously.”58 The language here is new, but
the underlying idea is not. The Yijing does not refer to inner and outer
planes. However, the received interpretation of 61 Zhongfu (Inner
Truth), which turns on the reading of fu (孚) as “sincerity,” implies
recognition that one’s inner state should be consistent with one’s
outer behavior—that, after all, is what sincerity is. This is one of the
goals of self-cultivation in both Confucian and Daoist practice.59
Anthony and Moog’s central idea seems to be one prominent
in Western thought since Rousseau, that society sets up prohibi-
tions that inhibit us from following our “inner truth.”60 Their I Ching
guides one in developing the “outer or inner No against injustices and
encroachments into his inner space.”61 A recurrent theme is overcom-
ing the “ego,” identified with the “hidden dragon” in line 1 of hexa-
gram 1 Qian and elsewhere.
The notion of individuals being oppressed by their “ego” (which,
in their usage, is actually closer to Freud’s concept of the “superego”)
and by society is quite contrary to Confucianism, which does not see
58. Anthony and Moog 2002: ix.

59. For a detailed discussion of the nature of Confucian self-cultivation, see
Keenan 2011.
217
society as adversarial to the individual and which certainly does not

regard those who educate the child as inhibiting his or her human
development. To be sure, Confucius was preoccupied with how soci-
ety had declined since the days of the sage kings of high antiquity,
but he did not see it as fundamentally or inevitably oppressive. There
are suggestions of such an attitude in the Daodejing and Zhuangzi,
but not in the Yijing, except to the extent that it gives advice on deal-
ing with adverse social factors—for example, the rise of the petty
persons in hexagram 12 Pi (Obstruction). As for the “ego,” nothing
like this staple of pop psychology is to be found in the Yijing.
Not only Anthony and Moog in the I Ching: Oracle of the Cosmic
Way, but many others during its long history claimed to have dis-
covered the real meaning of the Yijing. While we might wish for a
more tentative attitude, there is no reason that admirers of the
Changes cannot adapt the classic to their own ways of thought. The
great Chinese commentators, including Wang Bi and Zhu Xi, did so,
though with much closer fidelity to the text itself. Both Anthony and
Moog spent several decades focusing on the classic. One may or may
not find their rather simplistic brand of psychology congenial. They
find something in the Yijing that Chinese commentators failed to
notice but only because they superimposed their own values on the
ancient text, as have many others. These pseudo-translations mainly
tell us about contemporary American popular psychology, not about
traditional China.
THE YIJING AS A PRACTICE
In China, the Yijing was not just edifying reading, it was the basis
of a practice that could have major importance in guiding one’s life.
Jung praised it highly, declaring, “[F]‌or lovers of self-knowledge, of
wisdom, if there be such, it seems to be the right book.”62 Since then,
psychological approaches to the Yijing have usually recommended
218
actual divination, though usually a means of personal insight rather

than prediction. The text seems to make considerably more sense
when a section is read in the context of an inquiry. In linear order,
because it is a compilation of snippets from long-vanished sources,
the text seems disjointed. (More advice about reading the Yijing is
provided in the next chapter.) That the oracle seems to respond to
specific queries should not surprise us. After all, it was composed to
provide answers to questions. Whether the text selected is apt for
the situation is a subjective matter for the inquirer to decide. Many
do feel that they get useful answers from consulting the Yijing, and
some do so daily—or at least whenever they feel a need for guidance.
It was the Wilhelm-Baynes version that first provided instruc-
tions for divinatory use, including an appendix that describes both
the yarrow stick and coin methods. The earlier translations of
McClatchie and Legge did not provide such instructions. Most recent
translations include a section explaining hexagram selection.63
Although Wilhelm’s instructions are overly concise, many did find
them sufficient to apply them in practice. Most select the hexagram
by the coin method, it being quick and requiring only universally
available objects. Any sort of coin can be used; for those aiming at
greater realism, imitation Chinese cash coins are cheaply available in
any Chinatown. The more authentic yarrow (milfoil) method is con-
siderably more complex and requires about fifteen minutes to cast a
hexagram. The probabilities of the two procedures are quite differ-
ent, with the coin method resulting in a much higher proportion of
moving lines. This makes interpretation more confusing. In early use,
at least judging from the anecdotes in the Zuozhuan, either the judg-
ment text or a single line text was selected, though trigram positions
were also sometimes considered. Compared to astrology or tarot
cards, the Yijing was designed to give much more concise answers,
as is appropriate given that it is supposed to reveal circumstances as
they are at the time of divination.
63. For detailed discussion, see chapter 11, also Hacker 1993: 133‒150 and Rutt
1996: 145‒201. The easiest to follow is probably Whincup 1986: 223‒231.
219
Practitioners are not necessarily believers in the sense of regard-

ing the process of consultation as infallible or supernatural. Many
simply find it helpful, and set aside the question of why it works.
They adapt what Jung called the “Chinese standpoint,” finding value
in consulting the Yijing without the need to find an explanatory the-
ory. Indeed, a little reflection reminds us that important ideas can
come to us from all sorts of random events—a remark of a friend,
an article in a magazine, reverie while listening to music, and so
on. Finding insights with Yijing divination need not imply anything
paranormal.
A few practitioners are sufficiently fascinated by the classic that
they study scholarly works and learn some classical Chinese so as
to be able to read the Changes in its own language. Notable in this
regard is S. J. Marshall, author of a scholarly book on the Western
Zhou history contained in the Zhouyi.64 Another scholar-practitioner
is Bradford Hatcher, who is highly critical of what he refers to as “con-
text criticism”—that is, the methodology used to reconstruct the
Western Zhou meanings. Hatcher has prepared a 358-page “matrix
translation,” which shows the Chinese text with possible English
equivalents of each character. A similar, more recent effort to create a
character-by-character dictionary is that of Daniel Bernardo.65 While
these works are useful, simply selecting meanings from a dictionary
does not result in satisfactory translation.66
THE YIJING IN ART
The Yijing has inspired artistic creation, both in the modern West
and in traditional China. A well-known composition for the guqin
64. Also see the excellent website “Calling Crane in the Shade,” www.biroco.com/
yijing (accessed 4/15/14). This includes book reviews and links to much important
material, such as the Harvard-Yenching concordance.
65. See Bernardo 2012.
66. Nonetheless, these immense—and basically selfless—efforts made by some
devotees of the Changes testify to its magnetism.
220
古琴, the ancient Chinese seven-string zither, is entitled “Confucius

Reading the Yijing.” John Cage seems to have consulted the Yijing and
claimed to compose some pieces based on random methodology from
the Changes. However, it is unlikely that anyone listening to either of
these quite austere pieces would spontaneously recognize a connec-
tion with the Yijing.
The Yijing-related taiji 太極 (tai chi) symbol has become ubiqui-
tous as a symbol of martial arts and in many other contexts. When
surrounded by the trigrams it becomes the bagua (八卦), often used
as a motif on Chinese decorative objects, such as bronze mirror backs
(figure 6.1). Much Yijing-inspired art has been created, but is mostly
found in obscure sources and is best considered a form of “outsider
art.”67
Yijing art can be placed into two overlapping categories. One
form depicts hexagram arrays, often elaborate and combined with
other visual elements. Perhaps the extreme examples are the illustra-
tions of Jose Arguelles, which combine hexagram arrays with Mayan
hieroglyphics, geometric diagrams, the DNA double helix, and other
symbols. These have elaborate titles, such as “Holonomic Space-
Time Matrix of Global History and Binary Pulse of Psychocultural
Development.”68 This is not to suggest that elaborate hexagram
arrangements are a Western innovation; thousands can be found in
Chinese publications.69 Those of Shao Yong of the Song were particu-
larly influential. Though often visually fascinating, many such dia-
grams are comprehensible only to their creators.
The other category of Yijing art consists of illustrations, either
figurative or abstract, that are presented as inspired by a specific
hexagram.70 Yijing tarot-like cards are available in both types of
67. An example can be found at http://www.gineen.com/chings.html (accessed

4/15/14). A Google search will locate many others.
68. Arguelles 1984: 69.
69. Li and Guo 2004.
70. The visual culture of the magic squares is extensively illustrated in Bertrand
2008.
221
motif.71 Overall, however, Western Yijing art expresses the enthusi-

asm of the creators rather than any great aesthetic appeal.
HOW DOES THE YIJING WORK?
While historical and textual study of the Yijing need not consider
whether, or how, it works for divination as a contemporary practice,
this question inevitably arises. F. David Peat, who clearly admires
the Changes, summarizes possible mechanisms. The first of these he
describes as “a conventional answer . . . that the readings . . . form a
screen onto which the questioner projects various concerns, beliefs,
and questions.”72 Peat likens this projection theory to Victorian
tea-leaf readings. The comparison is not entirely appropriate, how-
ever, because an Yijing response consists of a specific diagram and
text, while the meaning of tea leaves is entirely created by the imagi-
nation of the reader.73
Stage psychics—as well as diviners—use a technique termed
“cold reading.” Vague statements are made that a high proportion of
people will feel apply to them. They then follow-up on the responses
of their subjects, offering further statements that are likely to res-
onate with most people.74 When a suggestion is off the mark, it is
quickly dropped and an alternative is offered. Research has shown
71. The best of those representing the actual Yijing is probably that of Paul Iki,
which includes three plastic coins with the characters for yin and yang, as well as a
“Tableau Initiatique,” all very mysterious seeming.
72. Peat 1987: 143.
73. Both are akin to what psychology terms a “projective test.” The subject is given
an image that has no precise meaning and asked to describe what it means to him or
her. The Rorschach ink-blot test is the most notorious example—notorious because
it has been used in criminal prosecutions and custody disputes. Never convincingly
validated, the Rorschach is little more than divination. This is not merely a recent aber-
ration; in the past, divination was often used to determine guilt or innocence.
74. Typical phrases include: “You’ve been under a great deal of stress lately,” or
“You are worried about a relative who is ill.” Most people are stressed, and many have
elderly relatives with health issues.
222
that most remember the accurate statements and ignore or forget

those that seem incorrect. The lucky hits tended to be experienced as
meaningful and thus can be considered synchronicities. Given that
we all experience meaningful coincidences, synchronicity is a com-
mon human experience. Indeed, divination can be seen as a process
intended to generate synchronicities.
Cold reading is often described as if it is a form of fraud. Certainly
it can be used unscrupulously, though more often it is simply a form
of entertainment. It must be pointed out that cold reading is not only
used to simulate psychic powers. Psychotherapy often works in a
similar way. The client describes his or her problem, and the therapist
makes suggestions. If the client disagrees, then another suggestion
is made. Eventually one is produced with which the client agrees, and
the matter is discussed further. There is nothing improper about this
process, so long as it is not used to deceive or otherwise harm.
The second possible mechanism in Peat’s summary is that “sub-
liminally, the actual casting of a hexagram . . . is influenced by what the
questioner desires to learn [as a result of] subtle promptings that are
undetected by the conscious mind.”75 This idea sounds superficially
plausible, but is problematic. A practitioner may consciously select a
hexagram that he or she feels applies to the situation of the moment.
However, when selection is by a randomization process, such as coins
or yarrow, the outcome cannot be influenced by the mind, conscious
or unconscious. Thus this mechanism, despite the psychological lan-
guage, really belongs with the third possibility, which “could involve
such notions as precognition and the possibility that the future can
in fact be predicted, or that forces and wishes of the subconscious
could have some actual effect on external events.”76
A final view, probably that held by most practitioners, is that
“the I Ching contains the distillation of thousands of years of wise
advice . . . and can therefore be used as an experienced guide to life.”77
75. Peat 1987: 144.

76. Peat 1987: 144.
77. Peat 1987: 144.
223
This view can combine with any of the others but, notably, requires
nothing nonrational for its plausibility. To open a book at random,
whether the Bible, favorite poetry, or a self-help guide, in the hope
of finding guidance or inspiration is a common, perhaps universal,
behavior. The skeptical critics of Yijing divination seem to assume
that those who employ it credulously accept whatever it tells them.
In actuality, most probably employ ordinary common sense to accept
some answers and ignore others.
Perhaps the final word on the practice of Yijing divination is that
of Gregory Whincup, who remarks:
One of the best ways to understand the Changes is to use it in

divination. Without this, the ancients’ attitudes toward it must
always remain partly hidden. I myself, however, no longer use
it in this way. . . . This is not because I do not think it works. My
own experience suggests that it does work—how I am not sure.
It usually gave me answers that seemed significant. . . . But rather
than allow the Changes to make my decisions for me, it seemed
better to make them myself.78
THE YIJING AND SCIENCE
It has become popular to imagine that the Yijing contains foreshad-

owing of quantum mechanics, DNA, digital computing, and chaos
theory. The notion that the Yijing somehow contains scientific truths
is not entirely new, but it has diffused into modern popular culture
to the point of being seemingly ineradicable. Whatever the merits of
this idea, it is not a good place from which to begin the study of the
Book of Changes.
Conceiving the Changes as containing modern science is but
one more interpretive paradigm in its long history. What began as
78. Whincup 1986: 221.
224
a divination manual in the Western Zhou became by the time of the

Zuozhuan a source of moral guidance, then during the Han became a
numerological and cosmological treatise. Later, Wang Bi’s influence
shifted emphasis back from numerology to the texts themselves,
though line positions remained important. In the Song, the Yijing
was incorporated into the neo-Confucian orthodoxy that lasted until
the end of imperial rule. As philosophical and religious ideas evolved,
the meanings found in the Yijing evolved with them.
Fritjof Capra’s The Tao of Physics was published in 1975 and is
now in its fourth edition. Its influence has been enormous; one com-
monly encounters people who, though their only acquaintance with
the I Ching is the title, nonetheless have the impression that it has
been proven to foreshadow the discoveries of modern physics and
genetics. Capra likens the Book of Changes and modern physics as
follows:
In modern physics, we have come to see . . . the subatomic

world . . . laying stress upon movement, change and transforma-
tion and regarding the particles as transient stages in an ongoing
cosmic process.79
It is true that both physics and the Yijing are about change, but the
notion that everything is in a state of continual change is neither
new, nor specific to the Yijing. Impermanence was being taught
2,500 years ago by Shakyamuni Buddha in Asia and by Heraclitus in
Greece. Indeed, this is one of the earliest philosophical ideas we know
of. It is hardly a discovery of modern physics.
Capra also refers to Niels Bohr’s idea of “complementarity,”
suggesting that it was anticipated by yin and yang.80 In actual-
ity, this was not a coincidence. Bohr had a long-time, if super-
ficial, interest in Chinese thought and even chose for his crest
the yin-yang symbol. That Bohr described physics in language
79. Capra 1999: 283.

80. Capra 1999: 160.
225
sometimes suggestive of Chinese cosmology was deliberate on his

part. Indeed, virtually any duality can be referred to in terms of
yin and yang.
Capra was not the first to claim correspondence between the
Yijing and science. Legge offered the following comment in the intro-
duction to his 1899 translation in the “Sacred Books of the East”
series:
Chinese scholars and gentlemen, however, who have got some

little acquaintance with western science, are fond of saying that
all the truths of electricity, heat, light, and other branches of
European physics are all in the eight trigrams.81
Whatever analogies may be found, it must be recognized that it is

an almost unimaginable conceptual distance from yin and yang to
the wave-particle duality of quantum mechanics, from the Bronze
Age to our own era. Yin-yang metaphysics did not lead to the dis-
coveries of modern physics. Nor does use of the Yijing in any way
resemble the actual processes of research in physics. What popular
accounts, including Capra’s, tend to obscure is that the real language
of physics is mathematical equations; verbal descriptions are at best
a paraphrase of the actual science. The lay explanations that empha-
size the supposed paradoxes of modern physics are merely science as
entertainment.
HEXAGRAMS, MATHEMATICS, AND

COMPUTERS
The first Westerner to make any connection between the Yijing and
science seems to have been Gottfried Leibniz (1646–1716). Leibniz
was the inventor, or discoverer, of the base 2, or binary, number sys-
tem, in which all numbers are represented by two digits, 0 and 1. In
81. Legge 1899: 38.
226
contrast the decimal system requires ten separate symbols for digits
(0 through 9).82
As already discussed, Joachim Bouvet noted a similarity
between one of Shao Yong’s arrays of the hexagrams and his friend
Leibniz’s binary system.83 He wrote to Leibniz with a copy of the
diagrams, a document that is still in existence.84 Leibniz was math-
ematically gifted—he was one of the inventors of the calculus—
and agreed with Bouvet’s finding of analogy between the binary
number system and the Yijing hexagrams and trigrams (gua). Both
binary numbers and Yijing trigrams and hexagrams use sequences
of elements with two possible values—0 and 1, or broken and solid,
respectively.85 While Leibniz found metaphysical significance in the
fact that all possible numbers could be represented as strings of
0s and 1s, he also made important contributions to mathematics.
Shao Yong, on the other hand, was only interested in metaphysi-
cal implications and did not seem to recognize the potential math-
ematical use.86
Even in the West, the binary system was no more than a mathe-
matical curiosity until the twentieth century when the development
of electrical circuitry led to the recognition that numbers could be
represented by current flow being turned on or off. From this we
have computers, smart phones, the Internet, and all the other trans-
formations of human life wrought by information science. Neither
Leibniz, nor Fu Xi, nor Shao Yong ever imagined the use of the
82. As the word “digit” implies, the base-10 system is natural to human cognitive
processing because we have ten fingers, no doubt the first computing device.
83. The binary system seems to have been discovered separately by others, but it
is Leibniz who, rightly or wrongly, is usually given the credit.
84. Smith 2012: 178.
85. With the Yijing, this is not strictly accurate because as early as the Zuozhuan,
there were actually four types of lines—each solid or broken line can either be chang-
ing or unchanging. To fully specify a type of the line of a hexagram, four numbers were
necessary: 6, 7, 8, and 9. These were always written in base-10 notation. Nonetheless,
when fixed or changing are not considered, the hexagrams are assembled from binary
elements.
86. Smith 2012: 178f. Mathematics reached a high degree of development in
China. However, Shao Yong’s interest was numerological.
227
binary system for data processing.87 The person credited with recog-
nizing the binary system’s potential for electrical data processing is
Claude Shannon (1916–2011), whose MIT master’s thesis was the
first report of this, one of the most influential scientific discoveries
of all time. There is no reason to think that Shannon was inspired by,
or even knew of, the Yijing.
From the time of Bouvet and Leibniz to the present, many have
sought an underlying mathematical or metaphysical principle that
determined the standard hexagram order attributed to Fu Xi. Some
have devised a new ordering that they propose to be the “real” one.
Given the propensity of the human mind to seek patterns in sensory
experience, it is easy to imagine that the order of hexagrams con-
tains a great secret. Much mental effort has been expended over the
centuries trying to discover what this secret might be, but Rutt’s con-
clusion to his discussion of the received order sums up the situation
well: “The question of what was the original order is not of primary
significance, and is logically dependent on the question as to whether
there ever was an original order.”88
Nonetheless, great efforts have been made to find an underlying
mathematical principle underlying the received order of the hexa-
grams. A recent example is Richard S. Cook’s 642-page work Classical
Chinese Combinatorics. In his abstract, Cook claims: “This study
resolves the ancient enigma of the classical Chinese Book of Changes
hexagram sequence . . . attest[s]‌to a high degree of mathematical
sophistication, previously unrecognized in a work of this antiquity.”89
Cook’s book is filled with complex equations, likely to be intimi-
dating even to those with mathematical background. The back cover
87. While it is sometimes claimed that Shao Yong’s diagram inspired Leibniz’s
discovery of binary notation, this is incorrect. Leibniz had developed the system some
years before Bouvet’s letter.
88. Rutt 1996: 117. While diagrams of the hexagrams arrayed in the standard
order are common in Chinese books, the numbering is a Western innovation. Chinese
referred to them by name only. If, as seems likely, the earliest forms were on bam-
boo strips, there may not have been a standard order until long after the original
composition.
89. R. Cook 2004–2006: ix.
228
puts it all together in an elaborate colored diagram. Without presum-

ing to analyze the mathematics, it can be pointed out that there are
two problems with the claim that the hexagram sequence demon-
strates mathematical sophistication. First, that a human creation
can be described in mathematical terms does not mean those who
invented it were conscious of this way of describing it. Whoever actu-
ally invented the wheel would not have known any trigonometry.
Musical instruments produce extremely complex patterns of sound
waves, but came into existence long before the science of acoustics
developed. A second problem is that any finite series of numbers can
be described in a series of equations, though there may have to be
many of them. That equations describe something does not imply
that the same equations were used to create it—one can draw a cir-
cle without knowing that its circumference is 3.1459 (pi) times its
diameter.
THE YIJING AND CHINESE SCIENCE: THE

VIEWS OF JOSEPH NEEDHAM
Not everyone who has examined the relation of Chinese thought to

science has been as sanguine as Capra and his many admirers. Legge
was derisive of the notion:
Until the Chinese drop their hallucination about the Yi as con-

taining all things that have ever been dreamt of in all philoso-
phies . . . it will keep them from entering on the true path of
science.90
Not only is this extreme, it is clearly incorrect, given that China

rather quite quickly adopted Western science once exposed to it.
Joseph Needham, the Cambridge University biochemist who
became the great historian of Chinese science, was more temperate, but
90. Legge 1899: 38.
229
equally critical. It is important to consider his ideas as a counterpoint to

those of Capra and the New Age. Needham was preoccupied with what
has been termed “Needham’s question,” which is, starkly stated, “Why
did science in China, despite its many discoveries, never advance as it
did in the West?” Needham does not argue that China lacked scientific
creativity. His immense multivolume work is a tribute to its many scien-
tific and technological discoveries. Ceramic technology, to give but one
example, was far superior to that of the West. The delicate fine china we
use for elegant table settings appeared in the West only with the intro-
duction of Chinese technology. Yet science as a system in which knowl-
edge based on experiment progressively accumulates did not develop in
China. Needham assigns some of the blame to the Yijing.
To contrast his own view, Needham quotes the French Orientalist
Paul Masson-Oursel’s description of the Chinese view of the Yijing as
“a kind of translation of all natural phenomena into a mathemati-
cal language by a set of graphic symbols . . . thus constituting a dic-
tionary permitting men to read Nature like an open book, whether
with intellectual or practical aims in mind.”91 Needham states to the
contrary that
it was very unfortunate that the “ideal process” substituted for

what was actually observed in nature was an empty symbolism
and not a series of mathematised hypotheses. [Furthermore,] we
are back again in that illusory realm of numerology, where num-
ber is not the empirical and quantitative handmaid of natural
phenomena. . . . 92
Needham gives as an example the assignment of crabs to the hexa-

gram 30 Li because the hexagram has firm lines surrounding a
yielding one it is like a crab, which is hard outside and soft inside.
Similarly, the eyelids are represented by 20 Guan with the wind
trigram above and the earth trigram below. This is because the upper
91. Needham (SCC II) 1956: 326.

92. Needham (SCC II) 1956: 325f.
230
eyelid moves, as does wind, and the lower is still, like the earth. By a
similar mode of thought, the human jaw, and thus nutrition, is rep-
resented by hexagram 27 Yi , with mountain above and thunder
below.93 This latter attribution is an obvious one, since the hexagram
does resemble an open mouth.94
Needham is careful to point out that the sort of correlative
thought exemplified by these hexagram associations was not lim-
ited to China: “If this kind of argument tempts one to despair, one
must remember that our European forefathers . . . were not much bet-
ter. . . .”95 Needham concludes his discussion with a phrase that has
been much quoted: “The Book of Changes was a system for pigeon-holing
novelty and then doing nothing more about it. Its universal system of
symbolism constituted a stupendous filing-system.”96 In contrast to
the system of hexagrams, Needham considered the yin-yang and five
phase systems conducive to science. Thus he correlates yin and yang
with the negative and positive charges of electrodynamics. This asso-
ciation is an intuitive one, but really does nothing more than add yet
another correlation to the yin-yang system.97
The question of whether the Yijing anticipated science or inhib-
ited it has no ultimate answer; it is always dubious to try to explain
why something did not happen. It is possible that, as Needham
argues, the convenience of the “stupendous filing-system” inhibited
curiosity that might otherwise have led to science rather than meta-
physics. But this sort of counterfactual speculation is not really very
enlightening. If the Yijing had been lost in the Qin emperor’s book
burning, would China have been better off? There is no way to know.
93. Needham (SCC II) 1956: 317.

94. Needham provides an extensive table listing the correlations of each trigram
and hexagram in Needham (SCC II) 1956: 312‒327. Hacker 1993: 64‒98 provides
another way of looking at hexagram associations.
95. Needham (SCC II) 1956: 335.
96. Needham (SCC II) 1956: 336.
97. Calling the two kinds of charge “positive” and “negative” is itself an example
of correlative thought as electrical potentials have nothing to do with other connota-
tions of these terms. As used in physics, positive and negative are arbitrary.
231
A limitation of Needham’s theory is that it considers only ideas,

not social factors. A more persuasive account is that of Toby Huff,
whose theory holds that the social and governmental structures of
China (and Islam) were not conducive to the development of science.
In his view, it was the European university system that provided the
necessary continuity for knowledge to be preserved.98 Because these
institutions were permanent, knowledge was continually passed
along from generation to generation. In premodern China, intel-
lectual continuity depended on the Five Classics and later the Four
Books of Confucianism. These maintained a common culture for the
vast country, but did not serve to stimulate new knowledge. As suc-
cess in life depended to a great extent on the imperial examinations
based on the classics, these inhibted educational innovation.
A final observation about Joseph Needham and the Yijing: Despite
his disparagement of the classic, he wrote about it at great length,
expending no less than forty-seven pages discussing it, and assem-
bling a very detailed table of its correlations, suggesting that he, too,
was susceptible to its fascination.99
These examples should suffice to frame the contrasting views of
the relation of the Yijing to science, with Capra and his followers see-
ing the Changes as proto-science and Needham seeing it as inhibit-
ing curiosity about true causality. Yet a middle way can be suggested:
First, we should admit that the Yijing is not physics, nor molecular
biology, nor computer science—nor did it directly influence these
scientific disciplines. The binary system made development of digi-
tal systems possible, but it was discovered by Leibniz before he saw
Shao Yong’s diagram. While learning of the binary system of the Yijing
increased Leibniz’ confidence that he was onto something important,
it did not add to an understanding of the mathematical properties of
this system. Indeed, the binary system lay fallow in the West until the
twentieth century when electrical technology created a need for it.
98. See Huff 1993. For a more complete account of the relation between science
and the thought of traditional China, see Redmond 2008.
99. Needham (SCC II) 1956: 304–351.
232
Analogies between science and the Yijing really belong to what

might be termed “inspirational science”—that is, science that is
mind-expanding and creates a sense of wonder. That an ancient text
would have anticipated some of humanity’s greatest intellectual
breakthroughs is extremely appealing. For Chinese, this restores the
Yijing to contemporary relevance and is a way of cultural affirma-
tion. After acknowledging that the Yijing is not itself science, we can
step back and admire how this nearly 3,000-year-old “stupendous
filing system” can so easily incorporate the most modern scientific
ideas. In this view, the Yijing hexagram system is not so much about
the external world as it is about how the human brain conceives it.
That correlative thinking is different from scientific thinking does
not mean it is inherently fallacious. Rather it is an essential mode
of human cognitive functioning. Needham need not have despaired
over the analogies of hexagrams to crabs, jaws, and eyelids. We all
use analogies as a way of description and understanding. Correlative
thought is limiting only when it becomes a closed system. If we con-
ceive certain aspects of our experience as interactions of yin and
yang, it may help us get a mental grasp on them. But when yin and
yang—or the four elements of ancient Greece, for that matter—are
taken to be the complete explanation of all phenomena, advance of
knowledge is inhibited. Huff’s theory seems much more adequate
because it can account for why Chinese science advanced so quickly
after Western contact—the Western system of knowledge institu-
tions was adopted. Contra Jung, there is no fixed “Chinese mind”
that cannot think in terms of cause and effect.
THE OCCULT YIJING AND THE NEW AGE
The term “occultism,” as designating belief in such things as divina-

tion, magic, direct action of mind on matter, and the existence of other
worlds inhabited by deceased ancestors and supernatural beings, is a
relatively new one. This is because in ancient cultures such beliefs
were nearly universal. Now, in the West at least, occultism is a specific
233
way of thought confined to a minority. It overlaps with esotericism,

which, though it has been defined in various ways, is basically belief
in a hidden reality that is known only to a certain elite. While it is
common to speak of an occult revival, in reality these beliefs persist
while their public visibility waxes and wanes. Conversely, skepticism
has also waxed and waned as the inverse of belief, in what it is tempt-
ing to describe as a yin-yang relationship.
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, then again
in the 1960s, occultism became highly visible with such organized
movements as theosophy and spiritualism and with smaller, elite
ones, such as the Order of the Golden Dawn. Divinatory practices
became widespread, not only the Yijing but also channeling, numerol-
ogy, tarot and astrology. These practices were considered not merely
to foretell the future, but also to be spiritually beneficial. In this cul-
tural atmosphere, the only ingredient necessary for the Yijing to catch
on was a clear translation that emphasized its spiritual value. This
was provided in the form of the Wilhelm-Baynes translation with its
foreword by Carl Jung. Now, readable in English for the first time, the
Yijing could be appreciated as simultaneously ancient, exotic, spiri-
tual, and perhaps supernatural as well.
One early devotee of the Yijing was Aleister Crowley (1845–
1947), occultist, drug addict, and iconoclast, labeled by the media as
“the wickedest man in the world.” He was ahead of his time in dis-
covering the Changes well before the Wilhelm-Baynes version made
it a countercultural classic. Crowley used James Legge’s lumbering
translation, which he consulted frequently for many years, though he
unkindly nicknamed the translator “Wood’n Legge” and frequently
referred to him as an “ass.” Such language was typical of Crowley’s
bombastic style and his general ingratitude.
Crowley’s published writings only infrequently mention the
Changes, but he left many marginal notes in his copy of Legge’s trans-
lation, including tables of quite elaborate correlations. His scattered
notes on the Yijing have been assembled and published, together
with his “translation” by J. Edward and Marlene Cornelius. The trans-
lation itself is of little interest, being essentially a poor paraphrase
234
of Legge’s. It includes a diagram of the cabalistic tree of life with

the trigrams arrayed on it. Though Crowley regarded his proposed
equivalences of the Yijing and the cabala as one of his greatest accom-
plishments, it has had little influence on subsequent understanding
of either tradition. Except that both are scriptural texts within their
respective traditions, similarities between the Chinese and Jewish
systems seem far fewer than the dissimilarities.
Crowley selected hexagrams with a set of six “I Ching sticks,”
possibly made from turtle shell, each with a solid line on one side
and broken one on the other. Although his notes refer to Yi coins,
these seem to have been paper tokens, each with a hand-drawn hexa-
gram.100 There is no indication that he knew the details of the stan-
dard three-coin method, nor that he used moving lines. Despite the
“wooden” style of Legge’s translation, Crowley felt the appeal of the
Changes, devised a way of selecting hexagrams, and consulted it fre-
quently. A recent, largely sympathetic biography of Crowley includes
many examples of his use of the Yijing.101 It appears that Crowley
used it for advice with his numerous personal difficulties, indicating
that its conservative nature may have helped him to bring a measure
of stability to his flamboyant lifestyle.
THE YIJING AS HIPPIE CL ASSIC
In the 1960s, youth disillusioned with life in their economically

advanced societies sought alternatives to Western institutions and
ideas. This included reconsideration of many formerly marginalized
ways of thought. James Webb referred to these clusters of ideas as
“rejected knowledge.”102 The very fact of rejection by the mainstream
100. Cornelius 1998: 212f.

101. Kaczynski 2010.
102. Webb’s theory of the occult generally as “rejected knowledge” is discussed at
length in his 1976 monograph. While the book has a highly skeptical tone, he eventu-
ally became a believer. Given the disrepute of esotericism generally, some conceal their
belief under the guise of skepticism.
235
was an essential, though not the only, source of their appeal. Although
the term was coined to refer to the various European occult move-
ments, it can be extended to include other forms of unconventional
spirituality, including the religions and philosophies of Asia, exoteric
or esoteric, as well as beliefs and practices of indigenous peoples. The
Yijing, as a divination manual, was entirely orthodox in China. Yet
one suspects that many now-established scholars of Asian religion
and philosophy were originally attracted to these subjects because of
their apparent exoticism.
A great variety of what might be termed “pseudo-Yijings” have
been produced as part of the revival of nonmainstream spirituality.
One recent example is the Toltec I Ching, which is actually an entirely
new fabrication. There is minimal connection with the Chinese text
and less with Toltec culture, the supposed predecessor of the Aztec
civilization. No writings from that culture, if there were any, have
survived. Thus, like the Mesopotamian theory of McClatchie, the
Toltec I Ching is essentially fantasy.
The Yijing, approached with a serious interest, is an immensely
challenging text. Engagement with it offers not only possible philo-
sophical and spiritual inspiration but also deepened knowledge of an
ancient culture radically different from our own. New Age versions of
the Yijing offer none of these benefits. Unfortunately they have pro-
liferated and far outnumber scholarly ones.103 These borrow the title
and the sixty-four–section format, as well as bits of verbiage, but
otherwise have nothing to do with the Chinese classic. The I Ching
does not replace the Zhouyi or Yijing.
103. Examples are Karcher 2005; Sloane 2005; Ramirez-Oropeza 2009. There are
many others, including at least three entitled The Lover’s I Ching.
236
C hapter 11
Readers Guide
Hundreds of books are available in English purporting to be the I

Ching (as most spell the title). Most are not translations at all but
pseudo-translations by authors with no knowledge of the language
of China and at most a superficial acquaintance with its philosophy.
Given this proliferation of non–I Chings, readers new to the study
of the Changes need guidance in selecting an appropriate version for
study. Those who already know the classic but want to deepen their
understanding will need to know which translations are most suited
for their research or classroom assignments.
An ideal translation of the Yijing would have the following
attributes:
1. Clear statement of the principles of the translation

2. Word-for-word accuracy
3. Consistent use of the same English word for key Chinese
terms
4. Clarity and readability
5. Avoidance of anachronistic terms and concepts
6. Arrangement based on the original configuration of the texts
7. Interpretation based on that of a specific phase of Chinese
intellectual history, such as Western Zhou, Han, Tang, Song,
Qing, or modern
None of the existing translations meet all of these specifications;

indeed, it would be impossible for a single version to do so. Which of
the philologically sound translations is best depends on the purpose for
237
which it is being used. The guide below is intended to clarify the advan-
tages and disadvantages of each of the major translations. Because of
the terseness and ambiguity of classical Chinese, a literal word-for-word
translation would be all but incomprehensible. As a result, words not
present in the Chinese original have to be added to make it intelligi-
ble in English. These same factors also create difficulties for modern
Chinese readers. Most need a translation into the contemporary form
of the language to be able to make much sense of the text.
Despite these difficulties, several excellent translations are avail-
able, each with its own advantages and disadvantages. Given the large
degree of uncertainty about many of the meanings in the Zhouyi and,
to a lesser extent, the Ten Wings, it is not surprising that versions by
equally expert scholars read quite differently. These differences are
due not only to the ambiguities in the Chinese original, but also to
the individual translator’s literary style, philosophical outlook, and
choice of a certain Chinese historical period and interpretive school
as the basis of the translation.
It has been said, only half facetiously, that one cannot understand
a classical Chinese text unless one already knows what it means.
There is some truth in this—the literati of premodern China did not
read the classics in isolation but had the help of tutors who explicated
the texts as their pupils memorized them. The text served essentially
as an aide-mémoire, understanding of which required oral teaching
based on the rich commentarial tradition. When this system of clas-
sical education was abolished in the early twentieth century as China
entered the modern world much, but fortunately not all, of the oral
lore of the Changes was lost. The oral traditions were still alive in the
time of Legge and Wilhelm who were able to rely upon traditionally
educated Chinese informants. As a result, their understanding of
the Changes includes much of the oral material that had been passed
down to the Qing. Additionally, many written commentaries survive,
from the Han onward, though most are from the Tang and later.1
1. Smith 2008 provides an immensely learned and detailed account of the surviv-
ing commentaries over the ages.
238
Re aders GUIDE
The Iconic Wilhelm-Baynes Translation

One of the most unexpected acadeimic best-sellers was the transla-
tion of, at the time of its debut, an obscure Chinese work then trans-
literated as the I Ching. With its plain but elegant dust jacket with
yellow and black type on gray background, and its graceful, if con-
fusing, typography,2 this offering from Princeton University Press
became a familiar sight in the homes of Westerners with diverse
lifestyles, from hippies to intense intellectuals.3 Despite—or perhaps
in part because of—its numerous obscurities, with this version the
Yijing became a work of English literature and a countercultural vade
mecum. Wilhelm and Baynes succeeded better than any other transla-
tors in conveying the spiritual inspiration that many have found in
the classic over the millennia, yet eschewed the sort of clichés that
later became common in the New Age genre. A common reservation
regarding the Wilhelm-Baynes version is that it is a translation of
a translation.4 But as expressed by Sonu Samdasani, a leading Jung
scholar:
The strange linguistic chemistry with Wilhelm’s “initiated knowl-

edge” on the one hand and Baynes’ rationalism on the other
turned the I Ching into one of the most unexpected best sellers
imaginable, creating a whole industry and becoming a cultural
icon.5
2. Wilhelm and Baynes 1950 and 1967.

3. This work was number XIX in the Bollingen series. The first published edition
of 1950, published by Pantheon was rather ponderous in two volumes. Princeton
University Press subsequently took over the Bollingen series and republished the I
Ching in 1967 in a compact one volume edition with the same elegant design. It is the
latter that became a best-seller, aided no doubt by its less intimidating size and the
blossoming of interest in the mystical and exotic that began in the 1960s. By 1997 it
was in its 27th printing.
4. Both were members of Carl Jung’s circle. Richard Wilhelm translated from
Chinese into German and Cary F. Baynes from his German into English, interrupted
by her return to America to wait out the Second World War.
5. Samdasani 2012: 158.
239
Since Wilhelm was instructed in the traditional understanding by a

Chinese scholar, Lao Nai-hsuan 勞乃宣 (pinyin: Lao Naixuan, 1843–
1921), the work can actually be regarded as a four-fold collaboration
between Lao, Wilhelm, Baynes (who undertook the project at Jung’s
behest), and even Jung himself. The four were diverse in national-
ity—Chinese, German, Swiss, and American, as well as gender—Cary
F. Baynes being the first Western woman to work on the Changes.
While this is still the most accessible of all English versions,
the way the text is arranged constitutes, as remarked by Joseph
Needham, “a sinological maze belonging to the Department of Utter
Confusion.”6 It is difficult, even for readers familiar with other early
Chinese texts, to recognize whether a particular passage is from
the Western Zhou layer, an excerpt from one of the Ten Wings, or
Wilhelm’s own explanation. Wilhelm’s explanations in turn owed
much to the late Qing orthodoxy of his informant Lao, who him-
self had been trained in the neo-Confucian interpretations of the
Song philosophers. Adding Jung’s influence on Wilhelm and Baynes,
the result was a book in which the contents of a single page might
include material from over a span of nearly three thousand years.
The alterations in meaning over the millennia are not readily appar-
ent in this version because of harmonization—the hermeneutic pro-
cess of making disparate sources seem as consistent with each other
as possible. While this increases readability, it is likely to frustrate
the scholar who wants to know the original source of what he or she
reads. Despite this, Wilhelm-Baynes remains the best place to begin
when engaging with the Changes, in part just because it blends text
and commentary.7 The historical nuances will be more easily under-
stood after one has a general familiarity with the text.
Several published versions were intended to be simplifications
of the Wilhelm-Baynes version. These include those by John Blofeld
(1965) and W. S. Boardman (1984). The former has some useful
6. Needham (SCC II) 1956: 308.

7. A helpful guide to the organization of Wilhelm’s I Ching is found in Marshall
2001: 151–154.
240
Re aders GUIDE
introductory material, though recent versions are poor reproduc-

tions of the original edition. However, these offer no advantages over
the Wilhelm-Baynes version itself.
Translations Based on Chinese Commentators:

Richard John Lynn and Others
The translation of Richard John Lynn is generally the most accurate,
though less easy to read than Wilhelm-Baynes. It is a model for future
translations in that it is based specifically on a particular interpretive
tradition, in this case, that of the precocious genius Wang Bi 王弼
(226–249) and his subsequent followers, who were discussed in
chapter 8. The Ten Wings are included and are well translated. While
the related sections from the Ten Wings are placed with the separate
hexagram chapters, the identity of each portion of text is clearly des-
ignated. This structure makes Lynn’s edition invaluable for serious
study, but the frequent interposition of commentaries makes it a
bumpier read than Wilhelm-Baynes.
In contrast to the work of Lynn, Thomas Cleary’s The Taoist
I Ching (1986) and The Buddhist I Ching (1987) are less successful
in recreating a specific commentarial tradition. Cleary based these
versions on the work of Liu I-ming and Chih-hsu Ou-I, respectively.
However, Cleary does not indicate which explanations are his own,
and which are those of his Chinese sources. Nor do these editions
adequately explain how Buddhist or Daoist interpretations differ
from the orthodox neo-Confucian ones. They do serve, however, to
make the important point that the Yijing cannot be simplistically
assumed to be a purely “Confucian” text. There is a need for further
English-language scholarship on how Daoism and Buddhism influ-
enced interpretation of the Changes.8
8. Modern scholarship has shown that these three Chinese intellectual traditions
often overlapped. Nonetheless, some interpreters regarded themselves as specifically
Buddhist or Daoist. Some, like Zhu Xi, changed their intellectual affiliation during
their lifetimes.
241
The First Accurate Translation: James Legge

Still in print more than a century after its first appearance, James
Legge’s translation is generally accurate, though verbose and stilted.
Legge expended much labor on this work, even painstakingly restor-
ing it after it had been submerged for a month in the Red Sea.9 Though
he frequently added words to clarify what he believed the text was
trying to say, these additions are set off in parentheses. Legge’s style
has a dated quality, making it a tedious read for many. His version
is now useful mainly as a second opinion for understanding difficult
passages. Because it is in the public domain, Legge’s translation has
been reprinted in many editions, some quite elegantly produced. The
proliferation of his version is not entirely fortunate in that contem-
porary readers are likely to quickly give up because of his ponderous
style.
The Restored Western Zhou Meanings

The restoration of the hypothetical earliest meanings of the Zhouyi
by early twentieth-century Chinese philologists has been discussed
in detail in chapter 5. The version of the late Richard Rutt is the most
complete and useful English translation based on these reconstruc-
tions. The book’s explanatory material is also the most comprehen-
sive of any version. The methodology of reconstruction is sometimes
referred to as the “modernist school” or “context criticism.” Also
essential for serious study of this approach to the Zhouyi are the doc-
toral dissertations of Shaughnessy (1983) and Kunst (1985).
Rutt’s reconstruction of the Western Zhou meanings pro-
duces a vastly different Zhouyi from the received version as in
Wilhelm-Baynes, Lynn, and Legge. For those with a serious inter-
est in the Changes, it can be read side by side with Wilhelm-Baynes
or Lynn as a way to compare the Western Zhou meanings with the
received ones of the Confucian tradition. Also very useful are Rutt’s
9. Legge 1899: xiii.
242
Re aders GUIDE
complete translations of the Ten Wings as well as translations of the

passages in the Zuozhuan describing Yijing divinations.
Another version that aims at recreating the Western Zhou mean-
ings is that of Gregory Whincup.10 Whincup’s is the most accessible
of these recreations, and includes clear, though brief, explanatory
notes. His is possibly the easiest read of any of the reliable transla-
tions and his explanation of hexagram selection is the clearest avail-
able in English.11
A new translation by Margaret Pearson is of interest from several
perspectives. It is the first authentic translation by a woman, not to
be confused with New Age versions that are not actual translations
from the Chinese. Cary F. Baynes made a major contribution by ren-
dering Wilhelm’s German into English, but she did not work from
the Chinese. Pearson has much to say about matters of gender in the
Changes. Pointing out that “yang” does not appear in the Zhouyi and
“yin” only once, where it means “dark” or “shade,” not female gender,
Pearson suggests:
Freed from the anachronistic yin/yang thinking . . . we can now

attempt a better understanding of the kinds of wisdom that the
Zhou Changes reveals.12
She also draws the reader’s attention to a problem to which ear-

lier translators have not paid adequate attention.13 Unlike English,
Chinese often does not specify gender. Thus English renderings such
as Wilhelm-Bayne’s “superior man” introduce male gender when it
is not specified in the original. For more on how the Zhouyi refers to
women, and how misogyny became explicit in Wang Bi’s and later
commentaries, see chapter 3 of the present work.
10. Whincup 1986.

11. Whincup 1986: 223–231.
12. Pearson 2011: 22.
13. Pearson 2011: 36–39.
243
Elizabeth Moran and Master Joseph Yu’s The Complete Idiot’s

Guide to the I Ching (2002) sounds like an easy introduction but is
actually something quite different—an explanation of much of the
text as referring to events in the Shang-to-Zhou transition. These
interpretations, while interesting, are entirely unreferenced, making
it impossible to determine if they are anything more than the inven-
tions of the translator. The brief bibliography consists mainly of New
Age works and only a few scholarly ones. Despite the title, this is not
a suitable version for students or beginners.
Translations by Contemporary “Masters”

There is no specific English word for those who claim to possess spe-
cial knowledge of an occult tradition. Such individuals commonly
honor themselves with the English title of “master,” or in modern
Chinese, da shi 大師.14 One such version is entitled The Complete
I Ching: The Definitive Translation by the Taoist Master Alfred Huang
(1998). While attractively produced, this version is neither complete
(it lacks the Dazhuan) nor definitive. Huang claims to have been
taught in China by a Master Yin, who held private gatherings to pass
on his knowledge of the classic. While it would be extremely valu-
able to have records of such oral teachings about the Yijing, we learn
nothing about this mysterious master, not even the source of his sup-
posed teachings. Huang’s is not a bad translation, but differs only
slightly from Wilhelm-Baynes without having any advantage over the
latter.
Another translation in this category, that of Chung Wu, Ph.D.,
does have some interest because unlike most English translations,
which tend to regard the text as the essential element, Wu’s work
emphasizes use of line relationships and hexagram transforma-
tions. There is no reference to this method in the Zhouyi, but it was
14. The translation of da shi as “master” is not to be confused with the set phrase
in the Lunyu, 子曰, often translated into English as “The Master [meaning Confucius]
said . . . ”
244
Re aders GUIDE
dominant in the Han and remained popular later. Despite being enti-
tled The Essentials of the Yi Jing (2003), this is really an advanced work
for those already familiar with the text who are curious regarding
the alternative tradition of interpretation by line positions. Stephen
L. Field’s detailed review gives further information about this divina-
tory approach.15
Bilingual Editions and Concordances

The edition of Legge’s translation edited by Z. D. Sung in 1935 is the
most useful bilingual version. Its somewhat old-fashioned font is
both clear and visually attractive. The first three of the Ten Wings are
divided and placed with the relevant hexagram chapters, while the
Dazhuan, Shuogua, Xugua, and Zagua are printed intact.16
A widely available simplified character version, which also includes
modern Chinese and English translations is Zhang Shangwen and Fu
Huisheng’s The Zhou Book of Changes (2008) in the Library of Chinese
Classics series. The English translation is frequently quaint, but
includes some noteworthy readings, including the appealing term for
study of the Yijing, “changeology,” presumably a translation of yixue
易學.
Rudolph Ritsema and Stephen Karcher’s I Ching: The Classic
Chinese Oracle of Change (1994) includes a lengthy concordance, but
it is alphabetized in English and gives pinyin without Chinese char-
acters, making it of very limited use. It does not substitute for learn-
ing some Chinese; indeed, some have been led by their fascination
with the Yijing to undertake study of the language. The English con-
cordance of Edward Hacker’s The I Ching Handbook (1993)17 is much
15. Field 2004: 198–205.

16. All of Legge’s translations with Chinese originals are available at ctext.org.
The Dover reprint of Legge’s translation is English only and hence is much less
useful.
17. Hacker 1993: 306–363.
245
more useful for those who engage the text entirely in English, as it is
based on the wording of the Wilhelm-Baynes translation.
At least two versions provide the supposedly equivalent English
words beside each character of the original. Bradford Hatcher’s The
Book of Changes: Yijing Word by Word (2009) prints each character, its
pinyin transliteration, its number in Mathew’s dictionary, multiple
possible English meanings and references to appearances of the same
character elsewhere in the text. A similar character-by-character ver-
sion with English equivalents is Daniel Bernardo’s Yi Jing (I Ching)
(2012). The latter has less information but is somewhat easier to
use. It has the advantage of including the Grammata Serica Recensa
numbers as well as those of Mathews. Both are compilations of dic-
tionary definitions but the glosses are not historical. These works are
convenient for initial reference but by their nature do not indicate
which of the possible translations are the most apt.18 At least two
Chinese-language concordances exist. That of the Harvard-Yenching
library has been the standard for many years but uses an idiosyn-
cratic system for locating characters. The newer concordance of the
Chinese University of Hong Kong is much more straightforward to
use and currently definitive.
New Age and Other Versions

Like the Daodejing, the Yijing has inspired many who have no Chinese
to produce their own “translations.” A few are by serious practitioners
who have studied and used the Changes for many years. For those
who already know the work well, these interpretations may hold
some slight interest. However, given the ready availability of several
authentic translations, as described above, there would seem to be
little reason to consult versions that merely paraphrase previous
18. The most useful dictionaries for Zhou Chinese are: Ricci, Dictionaire Ricci de
characteres chinois, p. 1999; and Schuessler 1987, 2007, 2009. Karlgren 1957 has the
honor of being the first Chinese-English dictionary of the ancient language but is now
considered dated.
246
Re aders GUIDE
versions or introduce contemporary New Age notions unknown in

traditional China.
There are several tarot-like card decks based on the Yijing. The
I Ching Cards published by AG Muller consists of excerpts from the
Legge translation and so has some usefulness as a concise summary
or as flash cards for study.19 That by Rowena Pattee (1986) has strik-
ing artwork. The most elaborate is the French version of Paul Iki
(1978). The cards format is part of the modern culture of the Yijing—
or so it would seem. While illustrated cards of course did not exist in
early China, Changes manuscripts took the form of bamboo strips,
which could have been divided up for study or divination, as modern
cards are.
Online Versions
The Yijing can be found online in multiple versions, both English and
Chinese. Several, including the Chinese text of the Harvard-Yenching
edition, can be found athttp://www.biroco.com/yijing/. Legge’s
bilingual version is searchable and available onctext.org. These were
meticulously edited and are reasonably authoritative. Additional use-
ful material is atHermetica.info. More recently created online texts
cannot be assumed to be completely correct without comparison to
an edited one.
OPENING AN ANCIENT BOOK
The Changes is more tightly structured than other early Chinese texts,
but unless the structural principles are recognized it is a very confus-
ing read. With persistence, however, the book starts to make sense.
The following explanations are meant to make it easier to appreciate
the fascination of this ancient work, while reducing frustration. It
19. I Ching productions and U.S. Games Systems 1971. The texts are derived from
Legge, The cards. See Legge 1971.
247
will be most useful if read together with one of the standard transla-
tions such as Legge, Lynn, or Wilhelm-Baynes.
The Zhouyi, the early core of the Book of Changes is less bewildering if
one keeps in mind that it was not meant to be read in sequence as a con-
tinuous narrative. It does not present a sustained argument like a mod-
ern nonfiction work. Nor is it a collection of anecdotes like the Lunyu or
Zuozhuan, nor an assembly of philosophical ideas like the Daodejing of
Laozi. A divination manual is actually a sort of reference book. Indeed,
an early Western interpreter mistook the work for a Chinese dictionary.
The work no doubt was read in diverse ways—for spiritual inspiration,
as a way to reflect on antiquity, or to be able to quote phrases to impress
others. Those composing commentaries would also consider the book as
a whole. For divination, however, usually only the diagram and or a few
line or judgment texts were considered to be the response to the ques-
tion at hand. These were selected by one of several random processes
(discussed in the following section). Thus a divination response would
consist of one hexagram and one or a few phrases. For those wanting
more information, there were ways of selecting additional hexagrams
and texts; but, then as now, these more elaborate methods were mostly
for enthusiasts.
Reading the Changes chapter-by-chapter and line-by-line, as one
would most other books, can sometimes induce a feeling of cognitive
dissonance because the texts often seem unrelated or even contra-
dictory. In some chapters the line texts do have a logical order—for
example in describing an action starting at the feet and moving up
the body, as in hexagrams 31 Xian咸 (Influence, or Reciprocity20)
and 23 Bo 剝 (Splitting Apart or Flaying21). The lines often refer
to successive stages of a process, or in later interpretation, to per-
sons of progressively higher social rank. Lines can also be related by
use of consistent imagery, such as the dragons in 1 Qian 乾 (The
Creative). What often confuses beginners is that some lines within a
22
20. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 122. Lynn 1994: 329–334.

21. Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 93 Rutt 1996: 246.
248
Re aders GUIDE
chapter imply a favorable prognosis, while others are unfavorable. In

actual divination this did not induce confusion, because the answer
to an inquiry would be only one of these lines. Taken together, the
lines of a chapter are not a single prognostication but an array of
different ones. Confusion can arise, however, when phrases within a
text segment appear contradictory; it was then the task of the diviner
to somehow make this answer seem responsive to the inquiry.23
An alternative method of divination was based primarily on
trigram combinations and line positions rather than texts. There
is no evidence of such use in the Western Zhou, but it became pre-
dominant in the Han and continued to be widely used thereafter. It
is referred to in the Ten Wings and became further elaborated over
time.24 Wang Bi, though critical of the Han emphasis on diagrams
over texts, did discuss the meanings of line positions extensively in
his commentary; these are clearly translated in Lynn’s edition. In
Western scholarship, the purported meanings of the trigram and line
positions have attracted less interest than the texts, which are more
informative about the culture of their time. Some practitioners, on
the other hand, are fascinated by this method as well as the elusive
mathematical basis of the diagram arrays.25
The Yijing cannot be devoured in a few sittings, but is best enjoyed
in small bites. Even the short chapters, when read carefully, have a
great range of connotations. One’s awareness of these is further stim-
ulated if one reads the same section in more than one of the major
translations. Many readers thumb through the work and pick hexa-
gram chapters that seem of particular interest at that moment. The
best way to get a sense of how the Changes was experienced is to ask
23. Orally derived material, as much of the Zhouyi must have been, often puts set
phrases together even when not consistent. This is discussed in relation to the Shijing
by C. H. Wang 1974: 14–34 et passim.
24. Use of lines for interpretation is not mentioned in the Zhouyi. The systems
that are documented are much later innovations. Lynn contains many examples of
Wang Bi’s interpretive use of line positions.
25. The English translation of Chung Wu provides detailed interpretations of the
hexagrams based on line and trigram positions. Although it does not give sources for
these, it does give a clear sense of this method. Field’s 2004 review is also useful.
249
it a question. One carefully reflects on a matter of present concern,

selects a hexagram and line (using one of the methods described in
the next section), then ponders how the selected text might clarify
the problem. One need not “believe” in the Changes to benefit from
this process. The purpose is to recreate as closely as possible the
thought processes evoked by use of the classic. To help make sense
of the Changes, the following is a brief guide to its several sections.
The Hexagrams and Trigrams (Gua)

These are the famous six-line diagrams, thought to be the earliest
element of the Yijing. (The hexagrams and trigrams are referred to as
gua 卦, while lines are yao 爻.) It has been suggested that some linear
figures on neolithic ceramics are the forerunners of the hexagrams,
but surviving visual materials are too limited to establish the geneal-
ogy of the hexagrams or trigrams. The neolithic linear figures may
just as well have been apotropaic or auspicious, though this would
not contradict divinatory use. Originally the hexagrams seem to have
functioned only as a means of selecting the appropriate text for the
inquiry, though, as already mentioned, they came to be included in
the divinatory process.
Traditionally the Yijing is divided into two parts, the first being
hexagrams 1 to 30 and the second being hexagrams 31 to 64. There
is no apparent thematic basis for this division. The designation of
the hexagrams by numbers is a Western innovation; in China they
were referred to by their titles.26 Non-Chinese readers tend to use the
numbers, which are easier to remember, but not descriptive.
Hexagram Title or Tag (卦名)

Each hexagram chapter begins with one or two characters that the
received tradition regards as titles. Rutt states of these that “they
26. A more cumbersome method using changing lines was used in the Zuozhuan
divinations, described in c hapter 2.
250
Re aders GUIDE
cannot (at least nowadays) be understood as descriptive names for

the hexagrams or their texts.”27 He adds that the tags have been
glossed with different meanings in the Wings and that many are
entirely different words in the Mawangdui manuscript.28 Despite
these variations, there is often a definite relation between the titles
and at least some of the line texts.
Judgment Text (Tuan 彖)

Following the title is a text that varies in length from two characters
to several phrases. Although the position of this text at the top gives
the impression that it summarizes the meaning of the chapter, its
relationship to the hexagram or line texts is often less than obvious.
Modern reconstructions of the Western Zhou meanings assume that
the Zhouyi is an assemblage from multiple sources that may not be
thematically related. From this perspective, to designate these tex-
tual elements as the “hexagram statement” is misleading. However,
for Wang Bi and the most-influential later commentators such as
Cheng Yi and Zhu Xi, everything in the Changes embodied the wis-
dom of the sages. If the texts seemed unclear, this was due to the
spiritual limitation of the reader. Thus it was an article of faith that
these texts explained the hexagram.
The term used by Wilhelm-Baynes and Lynn is “judgment,”
which avoids implying anything about the relation of this text ele-
ment to the hexagrams or line texts. However, this term is itself
slightly misleading as it is not clear what the text is a judgment of.
In divination practice, the judgment texts functioned similarly to
the line texts—that is, they would be used by themselves as specific
prognostications.
27. Rutt 1996: 118.

28. As discussed in c hapters 2 and 4, we now know that the Changes circulated
in multiple versions, one of which became fixed in the form that has come down to us
as the received text. That titles varied between versions does not mean that they were
merely arbitrary mnemonics.
251
Line Texts (Yaoci 爻辭)

Each of the six lines of the diagram has a text associated with it,
always introduced with a set phrase of the pattern, “Six for the first
place,” “Nine for the second place,” etc. In the received version, each
of the four types of lines is identified by one of the numerals 6, 7,
8, or 9. The even numbers, 6 and 8, designate yin, or broken, lines;
and the odd numbers, 7 and 9, yang, or solid, lines. In addition to
being yin or yang, lines are either fixed (young) or changing (old).
The changing lines transform into their opposite, generating a new
hexagram. They are referred to as old because when either yin or yang
has predominated for a period of time it changes into its opposite.
Changing lines were used by the time of the Zuozhuan, but there is no
evidence for them in the Western Zhou. Here are the associations of
numbers with lines:
9 An old (changing) yang line

8 A young (fixed) yin line
7 A young (fixed) yang line
6 An old (changing) yin line
All chapters have six line texts, except 1 Qian and 2 Kun, both
of which have an extra phrase, not referring to a specific line. Rutt
divides the line statements into four components: oracle (principal
theme); indication (the problem); prognostic; and observation (com-
ment or modification of the prognostic).29 He identifies four types of
prognostic, following traditional Chinese schemes: ji 吉 (auspicious),
li 厲 (dangerous), jiu 咎 (misfortune), and xiong 凶 (disastrous).
Fortunately for the user of the Yijing, ji is by far the most common
prognostic, occurring 147 times. Although xiong, the worst prognos-
tic, occurs 88 times, nonetheless the Yijing is for the most part opti-
mistic. It warns of danger with the presumption that this will help
the junzi or da ren to attenuate or avert it.
29. Rutt 1996: 131–134.
252
Re aders GUIDE
THE TEN WINGS (SHIYI 十翼), L ATER

CANONICAL COMMENTARIES
It is with the addition of these appendices that the Zhouyi became the
Yijing. The Ten Wings are of later origin and stylistically quite different
from the texts of the Zhouyi proper. In commenting on the hexagrams
and texts, they express the understanding of their own era, not neces-
sarily that of the Western Zhou. Although the Ten Wings seem origi-
nally to have been separate from the Zhouyi itself (as in the Mawangdui
silk manuscript, for example), most later editions of the Yijing divide
some of the texts to place the phrases with the part of the Zhouyi chap-
ter to which they refer. This arrangement has been attributed to Bi
Zhi (ca. 50 BCE–10 CE). It has the advantage of placing related texts
together, but the disadvantage of conflating textual layers composed
half a millennium apart. Serious study of the Yijing requires reading in
both formats; both are available in English translation.30
First and Second Wings: Tuanzhuan 彖傳

(Commentary to the Judgments)
These are two halves of a single commentary, each referring to the
constituent trigrams and interpreting the hexagrams in terms of
judgments and line positions.
Third and Fourth Wings: Xiangzhuan 象傳

(Commentary to the Images)
These also are two halves of the same commentary. Confusingly, the
Xiangzhuan is comprised of two distinct commentaries, both of which
30. English editions are available in both formats. The Ten Wings is translated in inte-
gral form in Legge 1899, available as a 1963 Dover reprint. Song’s 1935 edition of Legge’s
1882 translation places the relevant commentary with the Zhouyi text. The online version
of the Chinese Text Project (http://ctext.org/book-of-Changes) combines the formats
(accessed 10/29/14). Lynn and Wilhelm-Baynes place the pertinent Ten Wings passages
with the Zhouyi text. Lynn’s organizational scheme is clear; that of Wilhelm Baynes is not.
Though the latter is the easiest for most beginning readers, distinguishing the different
text layers is difficult. A useful guide to the latter is Marshall 2001: 151–154.
253
are divided into the same two sections. The “Daxiang” 大象 consists
of two lines for each hexagram: the first specifies the two trigrams
of which it is composed, while the second is a moralistic statement
referring either to a junzi (prince), king, lord, or da ren (great man).
The “Xiaoxiang” 小象 consists of terse glosses on each line text based
on the words or the line position.
Fifth and Sixth Wings:Dazhuan 大傳 (Great

Commentary), also referred to as Xici 繫辭
(Appended Statements)
These also are two sections of a single work. Referred to in English as
the “Great Commentary,” or “Great Treatise,” this is the most philo-
sophical part of the Yijing. Many modern readers consider it a work
of profound spirituality. Most of the Dazhuan is general, but some
portions refer to specific sections of the Zhouyi.
Seventh Wing: Wenyan 文言 (Words of the Text)

This consists of an additional commentary on the first two hexa-
grams, Qian and Kun, which were considered the key to the others.
Eighth Wing: Shuogua 說卦 (Explanation of

the Trigrams)
The Shougua introduces an elaborate correlative cosmology into the
Changes. It begins with numerology and makes brief statements of
how specific trigrams act on each other. The concept of yin-yang is
fully developed. Each trigram is provided with a long list of corre-
lations, including family relationships. Some of the associations
seem logical; others do not. This work was extremely influential in
the development of Han and later Chinese correlative metaphysics.
While the details presented can seem overwhelming, some familiar-
ity is essential for understanding this important strain of Chinese
thought.
254
Re aders GUIDE
Ninth Wing: Xugua 序卦 (Hexagrams in

Sequence); Tenth Wing: Zagua 雜卦 (Hexagrams
in Irregular Order)
The Xugua is a rather contrived explanation for the received order of
the hexagrams. The Zagua consists of very brief glosses on a subset of
hexagrams, sometimes grouped by themes.
Beginning to read a text with so many layers may seem overwhelming,

so some suggestions on how to start may be helpful. Simply reading
starting at the first page will soon lead to frustration. For most read-
ers, it is probably best to start with Dazhuan. In reading the various
hexagram texts, one can begin with the judgments and line texts and
leave the often-confusing commentaries for later. Those interested
in correlative associations will also find the Shuogua of interest. As a
reading plan to get a taste of the Changes, one might begin by reading
the two basic hexagrams, 1 Qian and 2 Kun, and perhaps 11 Tai and
12 Pi as relatively easy to understand. Other hexagrams of particular
interest include 4 Meng, 17 Sui, 49 Ge, 50 Ding, and the last two, 63
Jiji and 64 Weiji. These readings will give a sense of the nature of the
work and, it is our hope, inspire further study.
HOW TO CONSULT THE YIJING
Scholars of the Yijing generally agree that actually using it for divi-
nation gives a more complete understanding of the classic. Doing
so does not require any particular beliefs about whether divination
“works” or not; it can simply be an experiment. The nature of divi-
nation as a pervasive human activity is discussed in chapter 1. To
get the most out of this experiment, it is best to ask serious ques-
tions and carefully ponder whether the response is helpful. There
is no need to worry much about what interpretation is correct; the
point is to discover what the experience of consultation is like. While
some Yijing methods are ponderous, others can be done in just a few
255
minutes.31 The process of divination with the Changes can be divided

into four steps.
Step 1: Proper Frame of Mind

Before the actual consultation, one should cultivate a contem-
plative state to benefit from the wisdom one is about to receive.
Consulting the Changes was more than seeking advice, it was
a devotional act, one that connected the inquirer to the culture
heroes who founded Chinese civilization. It also rehearsed the
establishment of the virtuous Zhou dynasty, the model of ideal
government. Even though these ideas were based on myth, they
served the function, religious in nature, of reminding the devotee
that the cosmos and society have inherent order. Thus Yijing con-
sultation was a spiritually affirmative act.
In Chinese tradition the process began with lighting incense and
meditation. As the Changes embodied the wisdom of the sages, the
inquirer faced north, the position of the subordinate when convers-
ing with someone of higher rank.
Step 2: Formulating the Question

The general syntax of Chinese divinatory inquiries was in the form,
“What if such and such an action,” not, “Which should I do, A or B?”
For example, one asks not, “Should I marry so-and-so?” but, “What
if I marry so-and-so?” If appropriate, one asks the corollary question,
“What if I do not marry so-and-so?” This dual mode of inquiry was in use
more than 3,000 years ago as recorded in King Wu-Ding oracle bones.
31. Many translations include a section explaining how to use the Changes for
divination. Clearest is that of Whincup 1986: 223–31. More detailed is Hacker 1993:
132–150. Those of Wilhelm and Baynes 1967: 721–724 and Lynn 1994: 19–22 are
rather concise. Carl Jung’s examples of his actual consultations of the Changes are of
interest; see c hapter 10 and Jung 1949: xxi–xxxvii.
256
Re aders GUIDE
This form of question is psychologically more sound than a

question of the sort, “Should I marry so-and-so?” because it pro-
poses thinking through a course of action, rather than simply ask-
ing to be told what to do.32 Although any sort of question can be
asked, provided that it is asked sincerely, traditionally the Changes
will respond to frivolous or repeated questions with a rebuke.33
Nor will it provide help regarding improper conduct, or to those
of low character.
Step 3: Selecting the Hexagram and Text

Many methods have been used for hexagram selection, and new
ones continue to be invented. Unless one believes that a particular
method has supernatural efficacy, there is no reason to believe that
any specific one is inherently better. Nonetheless, asking for advice is
a rather intimate matter, and most find one or another method bet-
ter suited to their temperament.
In early Chinese sources, yarrow is the only method of Changes
divination referred to; often it was used together with oracle-bone
pyromancy. Oracle-bone use gradually diminished, presumably
because yarrow was simpler and far less expensive. From the Tang
onward to the present day, the much quicker coin method has
been widely used instead of yarrow.34 Modern innovations include
casting special six-sided dice, holding a pendulum over a chart,
casting sticks imprinted with lines, and selecting from a deck of
specially designed tarot-like cards. All of these require specially
made devices. Two additional methods that do not require hard
32. This is akin to how a psychotherapist would discuss a client’s issues, by help-
ing to clarify the possible effects of each course of action, rather than make the deci-
sion for the client.
33. The idea that the Changes should not be troubled with annoying questions is
already present in the Zhouyi, hexagram 4 Meng (Youthful Folly).
34. Whincup 1986: 227.
257
to find items make use of colored beads or fairly simple mental

arithmetic.
Yarrow Sticks (Milfoil)

This is the method referred to in ancient sources. A bundle of fifty
dried stems of the yarrow plant are repeatedly divided until the num-
ber of remaining sticks indicates which kind of line. The process is
repeated six times to generate the full hexagram and takes about
twenty minutes. We do not know how the sticks were manipulated
originally, but at least two reconstructed methods are available. Most
commonly referred to is that of Zhu Xi. He based this on his inter-
pretation of Dazhuan I.9, which refers to the process but without suf-
ficient detail. A modern version is somewhat simpler and yields the
numbers 6, 7, 8, and 9 directly.35 Most will find yarrow too tedious
for regular use, but it is worth trying it a few times to gain a sense of
the care Chinese put into divination with the Changes (figure 11.1).36
Coins
This is the simplest and most widely used method. It requires three
coins of any denomination, but imitation Chinese cash coins, avail-
able cheaply in virtually any Chinatown souvenir shop worldwide,
are preferred. The three coins are tossed at once. Heads, or the side
with fewer Chinese characters, counts as yin, assigned the number
2; and tails are yang, assigned the number 3. The numerical values
are added up and yield 6, 7, 8, or 9, the numbers that refer to each
of the four line types. Six such tosses are carried out to generate the
full hexagram. The lines are selected in order, beginning with the
lowest line.
35. Whincup 1986: 226–228 provides detailed instructions for this method,
which he attributes to Gao Heng.
36. Yarrow sticks have been bundled with a much-criticized pseudo-translation by
“Wu Wei.” This nom de plume is the term for “nonaction” in the Daodejing adopted pre-
tentiously by Chris Prentiss, an entrepreneur who runs private alcoholism treatment
centers in Southern California. The yarrow sticks are sometimes available separately.
258
Re aders GUIDE
Beads
The bead method uses sixteen beads of four different colors, based
on the there being four kinds of line with the probabilities having
the common denominator 16. There will be one bead of a particular
color for changing yin; three for changing yang; five for fixed yang;
and seven for fixed yin. The beads can be kept in a small Chinese
silk purse and are selected without looking. The corresponding line
is noted, and the bead is returned. This process is repeated a total
of six times to produce a hexagram. While this method is almost
as quick as the coin method, it has a more contemplative quality
and is more atmospheric, especially if Chinese imitation cloisonné
beads are used. The probabilities are as follows:
Yarrow Beads Coin
6 Changing yin 1 in 16 1 in 16 2 in 16
7 Fixed yang 5 in 16 5 in 16 6 in 16
8 Fixed yin 7 in 16 7 in 16 6 in 16
9 Changing yang 3 in 16 3 in 16 2 in 16
It can be seen that the bead method matches the probabilities of

yarrow exactly. Notably, in this method the probability of obtaining
each kind of line is different. However in both methods, the prob-
ability of a changing line is 25% so most cast hexagrams will have
at least one such line. Whether it is necessary to duplicate the prob-
abilities of the ancient method is a matter of taste.37 The present
author prefers to do so, but many practitioners are content with the
coin method.
37. http://www.biroco.com/yijing/prob.htm (accessed 4/29/14).
259
Remainders
This method draws numbers from one’s surroundings. These can be
license plates, fares on taxi meters, temperatures, airplane flight or
seat numbers, the Dow Jones industrial average, or any other num-
ber one happens to notice at the time of the inquiry. The first number
is then divided progressively by 8 until there is a remainder of the
numbers 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, or 7. The 0 is counted as 8. One then counts
around the bagua until the number is reached, beginning with the
top. The process is then repeated on another number for the upper
trigram; this can be another from one’s surroundings, or the date or
time.
The arithmetic is easier than it sounds. One subtracts multiples
of 8 until a manageable number is left, then calculates the remainder.
As a simple example, suppose the number selected is 47. Dividing by
8 leaves a remainder of 7, designating the last trigram before the top
as one goes around clockwise.38 There are variants of this method as
well, all based on different ways to select the number.39
Other Methods
Other than the physical manipulation, the major difference between
methods is the number of changing lines obtained. The two sets of
dice seen by the present author use different systems. One has two
dice of eight sides each, upon which are embossed the characters for
the trigrams. A third die has six sides and is used to decide which
line is changing. In this method, the number of lines that change is
decided by the inquirer. Another set has the usual six sides; each die
has two fixed yin and yang lines and one changing line for each, giving
38. A clear explanation of the process with a diagram showing how to use one’s
palm and fingers to pick the appropriate trigram is available in Huang 2000: 175–178.
39. Hacker 1993: 133–150 provides explanations of this and other methods
without the mystification present in most treatments of Yijing numerology. Sources
by and for practitioners include Da Liu 1979: 23–27 et passim and Huang 2000, whose
account is the most detailed available in English. The latter two are not historically
based. An example of the extremes to which Yijing numerology can be taken is Onvlee
and Shapiro 2011, filled with tables of numbers and diagrams unlikely to be compre-
hensible to any besides its authors.
260
Re aders GUIDE
a probability of 16.66 percent (3 in 16) for each kind of changing line.

Another system, using six sticks of four sides has a very high 50 per-
cent (8 in 16) probability of a changing line. Too many changing lines,
at least in the opinion of the present author, makes for confusion.
There is an extreme variety of other methods, many of which uti-
lize Yijing imagery but are purely numerological, based on birth or
other significant dates. Although some of these refer to stars, they
are not truly astrological because they do not make use of actual
planetary positions.40 A rather obscure numerological passage in the
Dazhuan provides a pretext for many of these systems; otherwise
they have no basis in the Yijing.41
The most famous philosopher associated with the numerological
approach is Shao Yong of the Song, who in turn influenced Zhu Xi,
as discussed in chapter 8. Numerological approaches interest mainly
a very few who possess a certain sort of cognitive disposition that
becomes entranced by number interrelationships and finds spiritual
meaning in them. These elaborate numerological methods are mere
curiosities that diverge from the main received tradition and do not
help us understand the Zhouyi as a text.42
Hexagram Transformations
Since answers from the Yijing tend to be enigmatic themselves, those
consulting it often want more specific or complete advice. To meet
this need, a variety of methods were developed for generating addi-
tional hexagrams.43 Only the use of changing lines was part of stan-
dard use. When one line is changing there are six possibilities. Here is
an example, using Qian (heaven) for the initial hexagram:
40. Sherrill and Chu 1977: 71–177.

41. Dazhuan I.9; Lynn 1994: 60–62.
42. There is a respectable branch of mathematics known as number theory, which
has practical use in computer cryptography. It makes no claims of providing spiritual
insight or divinatory powers, however.
43. Hacker 1993: 74–90.
261
While Chinese who were steeped in the Changes would have recalled
the titles for each hexagram, few now have this sort of memorization
ability. Fortunately, virtually all major translations provide a table to
find the hexagram based on its trigrams.
The next most common method was that of nuclear hexagrams.
A second hexagram is produced by using lines 2, 3, and 4 as the lower
trigram and 3, 4, and 5 as the upper one. As an example, let us sup-
pose the hexagram initially selected is 26 Daxu (Taming Power of
the Great). Its nuclear trigrams generate 54 Guimei (The Marrying
Maiden).44 Here are the two side by side:
This same transformation can be reapplied progressively, but eventu-

ally Qian or Kun are attained, which are invariant.45
With yet another mode, all lines change into their opposite. This
is also the basis of the received order of the hexagrams—for example,
11 Tai (Peace) to 12 Pi (Obstruction).
When there are changing lines, selection of an additional hexagram

is required, but use of other kinds of transformation is at the option
of the user.
Step 4: Interpreting the Response

There are countless ways one can interpret the hexagram and texts
one selects. Earlier chapters provide many examples. Hacker sums up
the interpretive process as

45. Hexagram transformations and the resulting sequences are discussed in
detail in Hacker 1993: 74–90 et passim.
262
Re aders GUIDE
an art as well as a science. It is a science because having a knowl-

edge of nuclear hexagrams . . . the five elements as so forth, is a
tremendous aid in understanding the meaning of a hexagram.46
Put another way, interpretation is based on factual knowledge of the

Changes (the “science”) combined with intuition (the “art”). Hacker’s
approach is akin to the Han Yi, or xiangshu (images and numbers) school,
emphasizing the lines and trigrams making up each hexagram, as well as
their possible recombinations.47 Except for those fascinated with these
abstractions, most Western users will focus on the texts, the Song Yi,
or yili (meanings and principles), approach. (See chapters 7 and 8.) The
most influential advocate for this latter school was Wang Bi, who, in
the words of Richard J. Smith, “stripped away virtually all the complex
and often confusing numerical, astrological, and calendrical calcula-
tions . . . attached to the work.”48 As a result, according to Lynn, “Wang Bi
allowed it . . . to become a literary text rich in metaphysical, political, and
personal significance . . . [a]‌ classic of philosophy.”49 It is this more philo-
sophical approach that has interested most Western readers.
How one interprets depends in part on the nature of one’s inter-
est. Some use the Changes only for casual divination and do not feel
a need to know much about the traditional Chinese context. Those
with a more serious interest will use divination to supplement
their study of the place of the classic in Chinese intellectual history.
For those seeking psychological insight or spiritual meaning (see
chapter 8), it is best to start with the Dazhuan as the context for their
interpretations.
Some final guidance: To interpret as the Chinese users did, the
hexagram and text obtained practical guidance should be interpreted
in an ethical context. Approached in this way, the oracle indicates the
best action for one’s own benefit that is also morally proper.
46. Hacker 1993: 147.

47. In addition to Hacker, cited above, Nielsen 2003: 294–300 gives a very
detailed explanation of the principles of line-position interpretation.
48. Smith 2012: 87.
49. Lynn 1994: 17.
263
C hapter 12
Predicting the Future for the Yijing
As we have seen, use of the Yijing in both China and the West has
followed two paths, or Ways (in the sense of the Chinese word Dao).
On the one hand, there is critically rigorous scholarship aimed at
deepening our knowledge of the origins of the classic and its power
to reinvent itself many times over more than 2,000 years of commen-
tarial history. The other Way of the Changes is as a practice—an aid
to decision making and an inspiration for spiritual growth. These two
can overlap—some modern practitioners become scholars, and some
who began as scholars become practitioners.
Though the received Yijing has been the subject of thousands of
commentaries,1 much remains to be discovered. Many of the areas
we have covered in this introductory work provide opportunities
for more extended treatment. While English-language scholarship
is extensive, as evidenced by the size of our bibliography, far more
has been done in East Asia, not only in China, but also in Japan and
Korea. Very little of this scholarship has been translated into English,
so there are plentiful research possibilities for those who know these
languages. Even in China, much remains to be fully explored. The
excavated manuscripts, now the subject of intense study, still contain
secrets to be revealed by assiduous scholars. Archaeology in China
has blossomed beginning in the 1970s and continues to expand our
knowledge of life and society in the Zhou. It is to be hoped that fur-
ther discoveries will contain records of actual divinations with the
Yijing, surprisingly rare in currently available sources. Study of gender
1. Smith 2008 provides a detailed history of the Changes commentaries.
264
PREDICTING THE FUTURE OF THE YIJING
issues is still at an early stage.2 Though the bagua and yin-yang (taiji
太極) symbols are now seen everywhere, from early Chinese printed
books, to the Korean flag, to martial arts T-shirts—and even the
Salem cigarette package—we still do not have a complete account of
the Yijing in visual culture.
Even though there are several excellent English translations (and
more than a few bad ones), we need more that are historically situ-
ated, as are Lynn’s and Rutt’s. There remains a gap between scholarly
translations and popular ones. While we have important versions
of the reconstructed Western Zhou meanings, there is room for one
suitable for nonspecialists.3 A particularly conspicuous need is for
translations that connect the Yijing text to the interpretations of the
major Song theorists, particularly Zhu Xi. Considered by some the
most influential Chinese philosopher after Confucius, Zhu’s views on
the Changes and his philosophy in general have not received suffi-
cient study in English.4 Shao Yong’s complex numerological theories
also deserve to be available to anglophone readers.
Yijing divination continues to be practiced in both China and the
West, though perhaps it is no longer “cool” as it was in the hippie era.
Recently astrology and tarot seem to be more widely popular. Many
diviners’s street stalls in the Yau Ma Tei area of Hong Kong offer
western-type tarot readings. Perhaps the obscurity of the Changes
deters those accustomed to the near-effortless, predigested informa-
tion of the Internet. Yet the Yijing, particularly through the still-fresh
translation of Wilhelm and Baynes, continues to have many devoted
to its use. It has already had a lasting influence on psychotherapy,
and has inspired music, visual art, and literature.
While the Changes entered popular culture as the I Ching, its real
place is perhaps—as described by Carl Jung—“appropriate only for
thoughtful and reflective people who like to think about what they do
2. A valuable compilation on gender in early China is Linduff and Yan Sun 2004.
3. Those of Kunst and Rutt are difficult for nonspecialists and not easily available.
4. Joseph Adler’s important study (2014) is a step in the right direction. Hon
(2005) is a detailed study of the Song commentators on the Yijing.
265
and what happens to them. . . .”5 To venture a prediction, unaided by

consultation with the Changes, the pseudo-translations will mostly
sink from sight. Authentic translations will continue to hold inter-
est for those with a serious interest in Chinese thought or for those
who are fascinated by divination and the esoteric generally. The two
streams, scholarly and practical, will likely continue along, communi-
cating with each other, intertwined like Fu Xi and Nuwa, but never
fully merging.
The experience of the Yijing can be summarized using the final
line of the first chapter of the Daodejing 玄之又玄衆妙之門. Within
mystery there is deeper mystery, the gateway to wonder.
5. Jung 1950: xxxiii.
266
BIBLIOGRAPHY
First authors have been alphabetized as surname first, then given

name separated by a comma. The names of Chinese authors are
transliterated in pinyin with surname first but no separation of given
name with comma, unless listed otherwise on the reference cited.
Coauthor names are listed as appear on their works. Translations of
the Chinese classics are listed under the name of the translator.
Adler, Joseph A., trans. 2002. Introduction to the Study of the Classic of Change
(I-hseuh ch’I-meng). Provo, Utah: Global Scholarly Publications.
______. 2014. Reconstructing the Confucian Dao. Albany: State University of
New York Press.
Adorno, Theodur. 1994. The Stars Down to Earth. London: Routledge.
Allan, Sarah, and Crispin Williams, eds. 2000. The Guodian Laozi: Proceedings
of an International Conference, Dartmouth College, May 1988.
Berkeley: Society for the Study of Early China and the Institute for East
Asian Studies, University of California, Berkeley.
Annus, Amar, ed. 2010. Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient
World. Chicago: Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago.
Anthony, Carol K., and Hanna Moog. 2002. I Ching: The Oracle of the Cosmic
Way. Stow, MA: Ichingbooks.
Arguelles, Jose. 1984. Earth Ascending: An Illustrated Text on the Law
Governing Whole Systems. Boulder, CO: Shambala.
Balkin, Jack. 2009. The Laws of Change: I Ching and the Philosophy of Life.
Branford, CT: Sybil Creek Press.
267
B ibli o g r a ph y
Barrett, T. H. 2007. “Human Sacrifice and Self-Sacrifice in China: A Century

of Revelations.” In The Strange World of Human Sacrifice, ed. Jan
N. Bremmer, pp. 237–257. Leuven-Paris-Dudley: Peeters, 2007.
Barretta, Lisa. 2009. The Street Smart Psychic’s Guide to Getting a Good
Reading. Woodbury, MN: Llewellyn Publications.
Baumann, Brian. 2008. Divine Knowledge: Buddhist Mathematics According
to the Anonymous Manual of Mongolian Astrology and Divination.
Leiden: Brill.
Berglund, Lars. 1990. The Secret of Luo Shu: Numerology in Chinese Art and
Architecture. Lund, Sweden: Tryckbiten AB.
Bernard, Noel. 1973. The Chu Silk Manuscript: Translation and Commentary.
Department of Far Eastern History. The Australian National University.
Bernardo, Daniel. 2012. YiJing (I Ching): Chinese/English Dictionary with
Concordance and Translation. Self-published. http://www.scribd.com/
berpop8544 (accessed 4/15/14).
Bertrand, Cristina. 2008. I Ching: Images for Meditation. Miami: Cristina
Bertrand. Self-published. http://www.cristinabertrand.net/eng/iching_
cards.asp (accessed 4/15/14).
Blofeld, John, trans. 1965. I Ching: The Book of Change. New York: Penguin
Compass.
Boardman, W. S., ed. 1984. The I Ching: The Richard Wilhelm Translation
Rendered into English by Cary F. Baynes. London: Arkana/Penguin.
Bol, Peter. 1992. This Culture of Ours: Intellectual Transitions in T’ang and Sung
China. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
de Botton, Alain. 2006. How Proust Can Change Your Life. New York: Picador
USA.
Bowers, Fredson. 1964. Bibliography and Textual Criticism. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Bremmer, Jan N. 2007. The Strange World of Human Sacrifice.
Leuven-Paris-Dudley: Peeters.
Broad, William J. 2007. The Oracle: Ancient Delphi and the Science Behind Its
Lost Secrets. New York: Penguin.
Brooks, E. Bruce, and A. Taeko Brooks. 1998. The Original Analects: Sayings
of Confucius and His Successors. A New Translation and Commentary.
New York: Columbia University Press.
Capra, Fritjof. 1999. The Tao of Physics: An Exploration of the Parallels
Between Modern Physics and Eastern Mysticism. 4th updated edition.
Boston: Shambhala.
Carus, Paul. 1974. Chinese Astrology. Abridgment of the 1907 edition, origi-
nally entitled Chinese Thought. La Salle, IL: Open Court.
Chang, Kwang-chih. 1999. “China on the Eve of the Historical Period.” In
The Cambridge History of Ancient China: From the Origins of Civilization
268
B ibli o g r a ph y
to 221 B.C., ed. Michael Loewe and Edward Shaughnessy, pp. 37–93.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Cherniak, Susan. 1994. “Book Culture and Textual Transmission in Sung
China.” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 54: 5–125.
Childs-Johnston, Elizabeth. 2008. The Graph Yi and Its Implications for Shang
Belief and Art. London: East Asia Journal Monographs, Saffron Books.
The Chinese University of Hong Kong, Institute of Chinese Studies. 2006. A
Concordance to the Zhouyi. Hong Kong: The Commercial Press.
Cicero. 1923. De Senectute, De Amicitia, De Divinatione. With an English
translation by William Armstead Falconer. Loeb Classical Library 154.
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Cleary, Thomas, trans. 1986. The Taoist I Ching. Boston: Shambhala.
_____, trans. 1987. The Buddhist I Ching. Boston: Shambhala.
_____. 1989. I Ching Mandalas: A Program of Study for The Book of Changes.
Boston: Shambhala.
Cook, Constance. 1998. “Myth and Fragments of a Qin Yi Text: A Research
Note and Translation.” Journal of Chinese Religions. 26: 135–143.
_____. 2006a. Death in Ancient China: The Tale of One Man’s Journey.
Leiden: Brill.
_____. 2006b. “From Bone to Bamboo: Number Sets and Mortuary Ritual.”
Journal of Oriental Studies. 41: 1–40.
Cook, Richard Sterling. 2004–2006. Classical Chinese Combinatorics: Derivation
of the Yijing Hexagram Sequence. Monograph 5. Berkeley: Sino-Tibetan
Etymological Dictionary and Thesaurus Project.
Cook, Scott. 2012. The Bamboo Texts of Guodian: A Study and Complete
Translation. Vols. 1–2. Ithaca, NY: East Asia Program, Cornell University.
Crowley, Aleister. 1998. “Yi King: A Beastly Book of Changes.” In Red
Flame: A Thelemic Research Journal, Issue No. 5, ed. J. Edward and Marlene
Cornelius. Berkeley, CA.
Cuno, James. 2010. Who Owns Antiquity? Museums and the Battle over Our
Ancient Heritage. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Dai Lianzhang 戴璉璋. 1988. Yizhuan zhi xingcheng ji qi sixiang
易傳之形成及其思想 (The formation of the Ten Wings and their
thought). Taipei: Wenjing chubenshe.
de Bary, Wm. Theodore, and Irene Bloom. 1999. Sources of Chinese Tradition
from Earliest Times to 1600. 2nd edition. New York: Columbia University
Press.
Despeux, Catherine, and Livia Kohn. 2003. Women in Daoism. Cambridge,
MA: Three Pines Press.
Durant, Stephen W. 1995. The Cloudy Mirror: Tension and Conflict in the
Writings of Sima Qian. Albany: State University of New York Press.
269
B ibli o g r a ph y
Ebrey, Patricia Buckley. 1993. The Inner Quarters: Marriage and the Lives of
Chinese Women in the Sung Period. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Elman, Benjamin A. 2001. From Philosophy to Philology: Intellectual and Social
Aspects of Change in Late Imperial China. 2nd edition. Los Angeles: UCLA
Asian Pacific Monograph Series.
Eno, Robert. 2009. “Shang State Religion and the Pantheon of the Oracle
Texts.” In Early Chinese Religion. Part One: Shang through Han, vol. 1, pp.
41–102. Leiden: Brill.
Epstein, Miriam. 1999. “Reflections of Desire: The Poetics of Gender in
Dream of the Red Chamber.” Nan Nu: Men, Women and Gender in Early and
Imperial China 1.1 (March): 64–106.
von Falkenhausen, Lothar. 2006. Chinese Society in the Age of Confucius
(1,000–250 BC). Los Angeles: Cotsen Institute of Archaeology, University
of California, Los Angeles.
Fan Wenlan 范文澜. 1955. Zhongguo jindai shi 中国近代史 (History of mod-
ern China). Beijing: Renmin chubanshe.
Feng, H. Y., and J. K. Shryock. 1935. “The Black Magic in China Known as
KU.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 55: 1–30.
Feuchtwang, Stephan. 2002. An Anthropological Analysis of Chinese Geomancy.
2nd edition. Bangkok: White Lotus Press.
Field, Stephen L. 2004. Review of Chung Wu, The Essentials of the Yi Jing.
China Review International 11: 198–205.
_____. 2008. Ancient Chinese Divination. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
Fingarette, Herbert. 1998. Confucius: The Secular as Sacred [1972]. Waveland
Press.
Fischer, Paul. 2008–2009. “Authentication Studies (辨為學 bianwei xue)
Methodology and the Polymorphous Text Paradigm.” Early China
32: 1–43.
Flad, Rowan K. 2008. “A Multiregional View of the Development of Oracle
Bone Divination in Early China.” Current Anthropology 49: 403–437.
Gao Heng 高亨. 1963. Zhouyi gujing tongshuo 周易古經通說 (A study of the
Zhouyi, an ancient classic). Hong Kong: Zhonghua shuju.
Gardner, Daniel K., trans. 1990. Chu Hsi. Learning to Be a Sage: Selections from
the Conversations of Master Chu Arranged Topically. Berkeley: University
of California Press.
Gauquelin, Michel. 1969. The Scientific Basis of Astrology. Trans. from the
French by James Hughes. New York: Stein and Day.
Giele, Enno. 2003. “Early Chinese Manuscripts as Historical Source
Materials.” Monumenta Serica 51: 409–438.
Girardot, Norman J. 2002. The Victorian Translation of China: James Legge’s
Oriental Pilgrammage. Berkeley: University of California Press.
270
B ibli o g r a ph y
_____. 2008. Myth and Meaning in Early Daoism: The Theme of Chaos (Hundun)
[1983]. Magdalena, NM: First Three Pines Press.
Goldin, Paul R. 1999. Rituals of the Way: The Philosophy of Xunzi. Chicago: Open
Court Publishing.
Greetham, D.C. 1994. Textual Scholarship: An Introduction. New York and
London; Garland Reference Library of the Humanities.
Gulik, Robert Hans van. 2003. Sexual Life in Ancient China: A Preliminary
Survey of Chinese Sex and Society from ca. 1500 B.C. til 1644 A.D. With
a New Introduction and Bibliography by Paul R. Goldin, Leiden and
Boston: Brill. [1961].
_____. 1951. Erotic Colour Prints of the Ming Period. Tokyo: Privately pub-
lished. Reprint publisher not stated.
_____. 2013. “Heng Xian and the Problem of Studying Looted Artifacts.”
Dao: A Journal of Comparative Philosophy 12: 153–160.
Guo Moruo. 1940. Zhouyi de goucheng shidai 周易的構成時代 (The ages of
the formation of the Zhouyi). Shanghai: Shangwu yinshuguan.
_____. 1982. Guo Moruo quanji. Lishi bian 郭沫若全集：历史篇 (The
Collected writings of Guo Moruo: Historical writings). Beijing: Remin
chubanshe.
Gushi bian 古史辨 (Debates over ancient history). 1982 [1926–1941].
Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe.
Hacker, Edward. 1993. The I Ching Handbook: A Practical Guide to Logical and
Personal Perspectives from the Ancient Chinese Book of Change. Brookline,
MA: Paradigm Publications.
Hacker, Edward, Steve Moore, and Lorraine Patsco. 2002. I Ching: An
Annotated Bibliography. New York: Routledge.
Halberthal, Moshe. 1997. People of the Book: Canon, Meaning, and Authority.
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Harper, Donald J. 1997. Early Chinese Medical Literature: The Mawangdui
Manuscripts. London: Kegan Paul International.
Harvard-Yenching Institute Sinological Index Series. 1966. A Concordance to
Yi Ching. Reprinted, Taipei: Chinese Materials and Research Aids Service
Center.
Hatcher, Bradford. 2009. The Book of Changes: Yijing Word by Word. 2 vols.
Nucla, CO. Print on demand and available at http://www.hermetica.
info./Books.pdf (accessed 4/15/14).
Hayden, Brian. 2003. Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints: A Prehistory of Religion.
Washington, DC: Smithsonian Books.
Henderson, John B. 1991. Scripture, Canon, and Commentary: A Comparison
of Confucian and Western Exegesis. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press.
271
B ibli o g r a ph y
Hinsch, Bret. 2002. Women in Early Imperial China. Lanham, MD: Rowman

and Littlefield.
Ho, Peng Yoke. 2003. Chinese Mathematical Astrology: Reaching Out to the
Stars. London: RoutledgeCurzon.
Holloway, Kenneth. 2009. Guodian: The Newly Discovered Seeds of Chinese
Religious and Political Philosophy. New York: Oxford University Press.
Hon, Tze-ki. 2005. The Yijing and Chinese Politics: Classical Commentary and
Literary Activism in the Northern Song Period, 960–1127. Albany: State
University of New York Press.
Honey, David B. 2001. Incense at the Altar: Pioneering Sinologists and the
Development of Classical Chinese Philology. New Haven, CT: American
Oriental Society.
Hsu, Cho-yun. 1965. Ancient China in Transition: An Analysis of Social Mobility,
722–222 B.C. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Huang, Alfred, trans. 1998. The Complete I Ching: The Definitive Translation by
the Taoist Master Alfred Huang. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions.
Huang, Lorraine. 2006. The Woman Radical: How the Chinese Language Defines
Women. Fort Lauderdale, FL: Llumina Press.
Huff, Toby. 1993. The Rise of Early Modern Science: Islam, China, and the West.
Iki, Paul. 1978. Yi-King: Tarot Oriental de Paul Iki. Saint-Max: Grimaud
Cartomancie/France Cartes.
Instituts Ricci. 1999. Dictionnaire Ricci de characteres chinois. Paris: Instituts
Ricci—Desclee de Brouwer.
Instituts Ricci. 2003. Apercus de Civilization Chinois: Les Dossiers du Grand
Ricci. Paris: Instituts Ricci—Desclee de Brouwer.
Iser, Wolfgang. 2000. The Range of Interpretation. New York: Columbia
University Press, 2000.
Jin Jingfang 金景芳. 1987. Xueyi sizhong 學易四種 (Four Studies of the
Changes). Changchun: Jinlin wenshi chubanshe.
Johnston, Sarah Iles. 2008. Ancient Greek Divination Malden,
MA: Wiley-Blackwell.
Jullien, Francois. 1995. The Propensity of Things: Toward a History of Efficacy in
China. New York: Zone Books.
Jung, C. G. 1950. “Foreword.” In The I Ching, or Book of Changes: The Richard
Wilhelm Translation Rendered into English by Cary F. Baynes, by Richard
Wilhelm, pp. xxi–xxxix. New York: Bollingen Foundation, Pantheon
Books.
_____. 2009. The Red Book Liber Novus: A Reader’s Edition. Ed., with an intro-
duction by Sonu Shamdasani. New York: W. W. Norton.
_____. 1973. Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle. Bollingen Series.
Trans. R. F. C. Hull. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
272
B ibli o g r a ph y
Kaczynski, Richard. 2002, 2010. Perdurabo: The Life of Aleister Crowley.

Revised and expanded edition. Berkeley: North Atlantic Books.
Kalinowski, Marc. 1983. “Les instruments astro-calendériques des Han et
la méthode Liuren (The astro-calendrical instruments from the Han
dynasty and the Liuren 六壬 mantic method).” Bulletin de l’Ecole fran-
çaise d’Extrême-Orient 72: 309–419.
_____. 2003. Divination et Societe dans la Chine Medievale: Etude des
Manuscripts de Dunhuang de la Bibliotheque Nationale de France et de la
British Library. (Divination and Society in Medieval China: A Study of
Manuscripts from Dunhuang in the National Library of France and the
British Library.) Paris: Bibliotheque Nationale.
Karcher, Stephen. 1997. The I Ching Plain and Simple: A Guide to Working with
the Oracle of Change. London: Element.
_____. 2005. Symbols of Love: I Ching for Lovers, Friends, and Relationships.
London: Little Brown Book Group.
Karlgren, Berhard. 1926. Philology and Ancient China. Goteborg: Oslo
Instituttet for sammenlignende kulutrforskning. Reprinted,
Philadelphia: Porcupine Press, 1980.
_____. 1957. Grammata Serica Recensa. Stockholm: The Museum of Far
Eastern Antiquities. Reprinted, Taipei: SMC Publishing, 1996.
Keenan, Barry C. 2011. Neo-Confucian Self-Cultivation. Honolulu: University
of Hawai’i Press.
Keightley, David N. 1985. Sources of Shang History: The Oracle-Bone Inscriptions
of Bronze Age China. Berkeley: University of California Press.
_____. 1999. “At the Beginning: The Status of Women in Neolithic and Shang
China.” Nan Nu: Men, Women and Gender in Early and Imperial China 1.1
(March): 1–63.
_____. 2000. The Ancestral Landscape: Time, Space, and Community in Late
Shang China (ca. 1200–1045 B.C.). Berkeley: Institute of East Asian
Studies, University of California, Center for Chinese Studies.
_____. 2012. Working for His Majesty: Research Notes on Labor Mobilization in
Late Shang China. Berkeley, CA: Institute of East Asian Studies.
Kern, Martin, ed. 2005. Text and Ritual in Early China. Seattle: University of
Washington Press.
Koch, Ulla Susanne. 2010. “Three Strikes and You’re Out! A View on Cognitive
Theory and the First-Millennium Extispicy Ritual.” In Divination and
Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World, ed. Amar Annus, Amar, pp.
43–59. Chicago: Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago.
Koh, Vincent. 2003. Basic Science of Feng Shui: A Handbook for Professionals.
Singapore: Asiapac Books.
_____. 2005. Unveil Your Destiny. 3rd edition. Singapore: Asiapac Books.
273
B ibli o g r a ph y
Kunst, Richard. 1985. The Original Yijing: A Text, Phonetic Transcription,

Translation, and Indexes, with Sample Glosses. Ann Arbor, MI: University
Microfilms International.
Lao Tsu. Tao Te Ching. Trans. Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English. 1972, 1989,
2011. New York: Vintage.
Lau, D. C., trans. 1992. Confucius: The Analects. Hong Kong: The Chinese
University Press.
Lee, Ann. 2012. What the U.S. Can Learn from China: An Open-Minded
Guide to Treating Our Greatest Competitor as Our Greatest Teacher. San
Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers.
Lee, Jessica. 2011. Sex in the Yellow Emperor’s Basic Questions. Dunedin,
FL: Three Pines Press.
Legge, James, trans. 1865. The Chinese Classics. Vol. III. The Shoo King [Shangshu,
or Book of Documents]. Reprint, Taipei: SMC Publishing, 1994. Also avail-
able at http://ctext.org/shang-shu/marquis-oflu-on-punishments.
_____, trans. 1882. The Text of Yi King: Chinese Original with English Translation.
Reprint, ed. Z. D. Sung, Shanghai, 1935; reprint, Taibei: Chinese Cultural
Books Company, 1994.
_____, trans. 1893. The Chinese Classics. Vol. 1. The Great Learning, The
Doctrine of the Mean, Confucian Analects, and the Works of Mencius. 2nd
edition. Reprint, Taibei: Chinese Cultural Book Company, n.d.
_____, trans. 1899. The Yi King. The Sacred Books of the East. Vol. XVI. Reprint,
New York: Dover, 1963. Also available at. http://ctext.org.
_____, trans. 1970. The Chinese Classics, vol. 5: The Ch’un Ts’ew [Chunqiu]
with the Tso Chuen [Zuozhuan] [1935]. Reprint, Taipei: SMC Publishing,
1994.
_____, trans. 2011. I Ching: Bold-faced Answers to Eternal Questions of Life,
Love, and Career. Ed. Laura Ross. New York: Sterling.
_____, trans. 1971. I Ching Cards. Switzerland: AG Muller.
Lewis, Mark Edward. 1989, Sanctioned Violence in Early China. Albany: State
University of New York Press.
_____. 1999. Writing and Authority in Early China. Albany: State University
of New York Press.
Li Dingzuo 李鼎祚. 1988. Zhouyi jijie 周易集解 (Collected commentaries on
the Changes of the Zhou Dynasty). Taipei: Shangwu yinshuguan.
Li Jingchi 李镜池. 1978. Zhouyi tanyuan 周易探源 (A study of the origins of
the Zhouyi). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju.
Li Jingchun 李景春. 1961. Zhouyi zhexue yuqi bianzhengfa yinsu
周易哲学与其辩证因素 (The philosophy of the Zhouyi and its ele-
ments of dialectical method). Jinian: Shangtong renmin chubanshe,
1961.
274
B ibli o g r a ph y
Li, Feng, and David Prager Branner. 2011. Writing and Literacy in Early
China: Studies from the Columbia Early China Seminar. Seattle: University
of Washington Press.
Li, Ling. 1990. “Formulaic Structure of Chu Divinatory Bamboo Slips.” Early
China 15: 71–86.
Li Shen 李申, and Guo Huo 郭或. 2004. Zhouyi Tusho Zonghui 周易图书总汇
(Collection of diagrams of the Zhouyi). Shanghai: Huadong shifan daxue
chubanshe.
Li Xueqin 李学勤. 2008. “Xu 序” (Preface). In Boshu Zhouyi lunji 帛书周易论集
(A collection of essays on the Zhouyi written on cloth), ed. by Liao
Mingchun 廖明春. Shanghai: Shanghai gujie chubanshe.
Liao Mingchun 廖明春. 2001. Zhouyi jingzhuan yu yixue shi xinlun
周易经传与易学史新论 (New studies of the core text and com-
mentarial materials of the Zhouyi and the history of the Yi learning).
Jinian: Qilao shushe.
_____. 2008. Boshu Zhouyi lunji 帛书周易论集 (A collection of Essays on the
Zhouyi written on cloth). Shanghai: Shanghai gujie chubanshe.
Liao Qun. 2006. “Three Kinds of Yi and the Transmission of the Zhouyi in
the Pre-Qin Period.” Studies of Zhouyi (周易研究). English translation at
http://en.cnki.com.cn/Article_en/CJFDTOTAL-ZYJY200605007.htm
(accessed 4/15/14).
Linduff, Katheryn M., and Yan Sun, eds. 2004. Gender and Chinese Archaeology.
Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press/Roman and Littlefield.
Liu, Li. 2004. The Chinese Neolithic: Trajectories to Early States.
Loewe, Michael, ed. 1993. Early Chinese Texts: A Bibliographical Guide.
Berkeley: Society for the Study of Early China and Institute of East Asian
Studies, University of California.
_____. 1994. Divination, Mythology, and Monarchy in Han China.
Loewe, Michael, and Edward Shaughnessy, eds. 1999. The Cambridge
History of Ancient China: From the Origins of Civilization to 221 B.C.
LuBuwei. The Annals of Lu Buwei. Trans. John Knoblock and Jeffery Riegel.
2001. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Lurie, Alison. 2001. Familiar Spirits: A Memoir of James Merrill and David
Jackson. New York: Viking.
Lynn, Richard John. 1994. The Classic of Changes: A New Translation of
the I Ching as Interpreted by Wang Bi. New York: Columbia University
Press.
Main, Roderick. 2007. Revelations of Chance: Synchronicity as Spiritual
Experience. Albany: State University of New York Press.
275
B ibli o g r a ph y
Major, John, Sarah A. Queen, Andrew Seth Meyer, and Harold D. Roth, trans.
2010. The Huainanzi: A Guide to the Theory and Practice of Government in
Early Han China. New York: Columbia University Press.
Makeham, John. 2008. Lost Soul: “Confucianism” in Contemporary Chinese
Academic Discourse. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center.
Mann, Susan. 1997. Precious Records: Women in China’s Long Eighteenth
Century. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Marshall, S. J. 2001. The Mandate of Heaven: Hidden History in the I Ching.
New York: Columbia University Press.
McClatchie, Rev. Canon Thomas. 1872. “The Symbols of the Yeh King.” The
China Review 1.3: 151–163.
_____, trans. 1876. A Translation of the Confucian 易經 or the “Classic of
Change,” with Notes and Appendix. Shanghai: American Presbyterian
Mission Press. Reprint, Taipei: Cheng Wen Publishing Company, 1973.
McKenna, Terence, and Dennis McKenna. 1994. The Invisible Landscape: Mind,
Hallucinogens, and the I Ching. New York: HarperOne.
Merrill, James. 1992. The Changing Light at Sandover. New York: Knopf.
Meyer, Dirk. 2012. Philosophy on Bamboo: Text and the Production of Meaning
in Early China. Leiden: Brill.
Metzger, Bruce M. 1992. The Text of the New Testament: Its Transmission,
Corruption, and Restoration. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Moran, Elizabeth, and Master Joseph Yu. 2002. The Complete Idiot’s Guide to
the I Ching. Indianapolis: Alpha Books.
Morgan, Carole. 1998. “Old Wine in a New Bottle: A New Set of Oracle Slips
from China.” Journal of Chinese Religion 26: 1–19.
Mun, Kin Chok. 2006. Chinese Leadership Wisdom from the Book of Change.
Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press.
Needham, Joseph. 1956. History of Scientific Thought, vol. 2: Science and
Civilization in China, with the research assistance of Wang Ling.
Ng, Wai-ming. 2000. The I Ching in Tokugawa Thought and Culture.
Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
Nielsen, Bent. 2003. A Companion to Yi Jing Numerology and Cosmology.
London: RoutledgeCurzon.
Nivison, David S. 1983. “The Dates of Western Chou.” Harvard Journal of
Asiatic Studies 43.2: 481–590.
_____. 2009. The Riddle of the Bamboo Annals. Taipei: Airiti Press.
Nylan, Michael. 1993. The Canon of Supreme Mystery by Yang
Hsiung: A Translation of the T’ai Hsuan Ching. Albany: State University of
New York Press.
_____. 1994. “The Chin wen/Ku wen Controversy in Han Times.” T’oung Pao
80: 83–145.
276
B ibli o g r a ph y
_____. 2001. The Five “Confucian” Classics. New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press.
_____. 2010a. “The Many Dukes of Zhou in Early Sources.” In Statecraft and
Classical Learning: The Rituals of Zhou in East Asian History, ed. Benjamin
A Elman and Martin Kern, pp. 94–128. Leiden: Brill.
_____. 2010b. “Yin-yang, Five Phases, and qi.” In China’s Early
Empires: Reappraisal, ed. Michael Nylan and Michael Loewe, pp. 398–
414. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Nylan, Michael, and Michael Loewe, eds. 2010. China’s Early
Empires: A Re-appraisal. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Nylan, Michael, and Thomas Wilson. 2010. Lives of Confucius: Civilization’s
Greatest Sage Through the Ages. New York: Crown Archetype.
Olberding, Garrett P. S. 2012. Dubious Facts: The Evidence of Early Chinese
Historography. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Onvlee, Jo, and Amy Shapiro. 2011. The Gift of the Tortoise: New Insights into
the I Ching. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform.
Palmer, Richard E. 1969. Hermeneutics: Interpretation Theory in Schleiermacher,
Dilthey, Heidegger, and Gadamer. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University
Press.
Pattee, Rowena. 1986. Tiger and Dragon Oracle: I Ching Cards. Point Reyes
Station, CA: Golden Point Publications.
Pearson, Margaret J. 2011. The Original I Ching: An Authentic Translation of
the Book of Changes, Based on Recent Discoveries. Tokyo: Tuttle.
Peat, R. David. 1987. Synchronicity: The Bridge Between Matter and Mind.
New York: Bantam Books.
Peterson, Willard J. 1982. “Making Connections: ‘Commentary on the
Attached Verbalizations’ of the Book of Changes.” Harvard Journal of
Asiatic Studies 42.1 (June): 67–116.
Phillipson, Gary. 2000. Astrology in the Year Zero. London: Flare Publications.
Pines, Yuri. 2002. Foundations of Confucian Thought: Intellectual Life in the
Chunqiu Period, 722–453 B.C.E. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
_____. 2009. Envisioning Eternal Empire: Chinese Political Thought of the
Warring States Era. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
Pu Maozuo 纀茅左. 2006. Zhuzhushu zhouyi yanjiu 楚竹書《周易》研究
(A study of the Zhouyi on bamboo strips). Shanghai: Shanghai guji
chubanshi.
Queen, Sarah A. 1996. From Chronicle to Canon: The Hermeneutics of the
Spring and Autumn according to Tung Chung-shu. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Ramirez-Oropeza, Martha, and William Douglas Horden. 2009. The Toltec
I Ching: Sixty-four Keys to Inspired Action in the New World. Burdett,
NY: Larson Publications.
277
B ibli o g r a ph y
Raphals, Lisa. 2008–2009. “Divination in the Han Shu Bibliographic Treatise.”

Early China 32: 1–43.
Redmond, Geoffrey. 2008. Science and Asian Spiritual Traditions. Westport,
CT: Greenwood Press.
Renfrew, Colin, and Renfrew, A. C. 2000. Loot, Legitimacy, and Ownership: The
Ethical Crisis in Archaeology, London: Duckworth.
Richter, Matthias L. 2013. The Embodied Text: Establishing Textual Identity in
Early Chinese Manuscripts. Leiden: Brill.
Ritsema, Rudolf, and Stephen Karcher. 1994. I Ching: The Classic Chinese
Oracle of Change. The First Complete Translation with Concordance.
Shaftesbury, Dorset: Element.
Rosenlee, Li-Hsiang Lisa. 2006. Confucianism and Women: A Philosophical
Interpretation. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Rutt, Richard, trans. 1996. The Book of Changes (Zhouyi): A Bronze Age
Document. Richmond, Surrey: Curzon.
_____. 1999. “Edward Shaughnessy’s Mawangdui Yijing—A Review Article.”
Oracle: the Journal of Yijing Studies 2: 38–47.
Sagart, Laurent. 1999. The Roots of Old Chinese. Amsterdam: John Benjamins.
Samdasani, Sonu. 2012. C. G. Jung: A Biography in Books. New York:
W. W. Norton, in association with the Martin Bodmer Foundation.
Sawyer, Ralph D. 2004. Ling Ch’i Ching: A Classic Chinese Oracle. Boulder,
CO: Westview Press.
Schaberg, David. 2001. A Patterned Past: Form and Thought in Early Chinese
Historiography. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University East Asia Center.
Schipper, Mineke, Ye Shuxian, and Yin Hubin. 2011. China’s Creation
Myths: Crosscultural Explorations in Oral and Written Traditions.
Leiden: Brill.
Schneider, Laurence A. 1971. Ku Chieh-Kang and China’s New
History: Nationalism and the Quest for Alternative Traditions.
Berkeley: University of California Press.
Schuessler, Axel. 1987. A Dictionary of Early Zhou Chinese. Honolulu: University
of Hawai’i Press.
_____. 2007. ABC Etymological Dictionary of Old Chinese. Honolulu: University
of Hawai’i Press.
_____. 2009. Minimal Old Chinese and Later Han Chinese: A Companion to
Grammata Serica Recensa. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
Schwarcz, Vera. 1986. The Chinese Enlightenment: Intellectuals and the Legacy
of the May Fourth Movement of 1919. Berkeley: University of California
Press.
Schwartz, Benjamin. 1964. In Search of Wealth and Power: Yen Fu and the
West. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of the Harvard University
Press.
278
B ibli o g r a ph y
Scott, Janet Lee. 2007. For Gods, Ghosts and Ancestors: The Chinese Tradition
of Paper Offerings. Seattle: University of Washington Press.
Sharf, Robert H. 2005. Coming to Terms with Chinese Buddhism.
Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
Shaughnessy, Edward. 1983. The Composition of the Zhouyi. Ann Arbor,
MI: UMI Dissertation Services.
_____. 1991. Sources of Western Zhou History: Inscribed Bronze Vessels.
_____. 1993. “The Duke of Zhou’s Retirement in the East and the Beginnings
of the Minister-Monarch Debate in Chinese Political Philosophy.” Early
China 18: 41–72.
_____. 1994. “I Ching 易經 (Chou I 周易).” In Early Chinese
Texts: A Bibliographical Guide, ed. Michael Loewe. Berkeley: Society for
the Study of Early China and Institute of East Asian Studies, University
of California.
_____. 1995. “The Origin of a Yijing Line Statement.” Early China 20: 223–40.
_____. 1997a. I Ching, The Classic of Changes: The First English Translation
of Newly Discovered Second-Century B.C. Mawangdui Texts.
New York: Ballantine Books.
_____. 1997b. “ ‘New’ Evidence on the Zhou Conquest.” In Before
Confucius: Studies in the Creation of the Chinese Classics, pp. 31–67.
Albany: State University of New York Press.
_____. 1999a. “Calendar and Chronology.” In The Cambridge History of
Ancient China: From the Origins of Civilization to 221 B.C., ed. Michael
Lowe and Edward Shaughnessy, pp 19–29. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
_____. 1999b. “Western Zhou History.” In The Cambridge History of Ancient
China: From the Origins of Civilization to 221 B.C., ed. Michael Lowe and
Edward Shaughnessy, pp. 292–351. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
_____. 2001. “The Fuyang Zhou Yi and the Making of a Divination Manual.”
Asia Major, Third Series 14.2: 7–18.
_____. 2006. Rewriting Early Chinese Texts. Albany: State University of
New York Press.
_____. 2008. Windows on the Chinese World: Reflections by Five Historians, ed.
Clara Wing-chung Ho, pp. 15–28. London: Lexington Books.
_____. 2014. Unearthing the Changes: Recently Discovered Manuscripts of the
Yi Jing (I Ching) and Related Texts. New York: Columbia University Press.
Shchutskii, Iulian K. 1979. Researches on the I Ching. Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press.
Sherrill, W. A., and W. K. Chu.1977. An Anthology of I Ching. London: Routledge
and Kegan Paul.
279
B ibli o g r a ph y
Siku quanshu zongmu tiyao 四庫全書總目提要 (Summaries of the main

entries in the collection of the Emperor’s Four Treasures). 1999.
Hainain: Hainain chubanshe reprint.
Sivin, Nathan. 1978. “On the Word ‘Taoist’ as a Source of Perplexity: With
Special Reference to the Relations of Science and Religion in Traditional
China.” History of Religions 17: 303–330.
Skinner, Stephen. 2008. Guide to the Feng Shui Compass: A Compendium of
Classical Feng Shui. Singapore: Golden Hoard Press.
Slingerland, Edward, trans. 2003. Confucius Analects: With Selections from
Traditional Commentaries. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing.
Sloane, Sarah. 2005. I Ching for Writers: Finding the Page Inside You. Novata,
CA: New World Library.
Smith, Richard J. 1991. Fortune Tellers and Philosophers: Divination in
Traditional Chinese Society. Boulder, CO: Westview Press.
_____. 1992. “Women and Divination in Traditional China: Some
Reflections.” Paper for the “Engendering China: Women, Culture,
and the State” conference, Harvard University and Wellesley College,
February 1–9. www.ruf.rice.edu/~asia/WomenAndDivination.html
(accessed on 4/15/14).
_____. 2008. Fathoming the Cosmos and Ordering the World: The Yijing (I-Ching
or Classic of Changes) and Its Evolution in China. Charlottesville: University
of Virginia Press.
_____. 2012. The I Ching: A Biography. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press.
Sterckx, Roel. 2010. “Religious Practices in Qin and Han.” In China’s Early
Empires: A Re-appraisal, ed. Michael Nylan and Michael Loewe, pp. 415–
429. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Strickmann, Michel, and Bernard Faure, eds. 2005. Chinese Poetry and
Prophecy: The Written Oracle in East Asia. Stanford, CA: Stanford
University Press.
Sukhu, Gopal. 2012. The Shaman and the Heresiarch: A New Interpretation of
the Li Sao. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Suler, John R. 1993. Contemporary Psychoanlaysis and Eastern Thought.
Sung, Dr. Edgar. 1996. Practical Use of the Chinese Almanac: A Guide. San
Francisco: MJE Publishing.
_____. 1999. Ten Thousand Years Book: The Essential Tool for Chinese Astrology.
San Francisco: MJE Publishing.
Sung, Z. D. 1935. The Text of Yi King (and Its Appendices): Chinese Original with
English Translation. Shanghai. Reprint, Taibei: Chinese Cultural Books
Company. Reprinted 1994.
280
B ibli o g r a ph y
Swetz, Frank J. 2008. Legacy of the Luoshu: The 4,000 Year Search for the
Meaning of the Magic Square of Order Three. Wellesey, MA: A. K. Peters
Ltd.
Takashima, Ken-ichi, and Paul L.-M. Serruys. 2010. Studies of Fasicle Three of
Inscriptions from the Yin Ruins. Vol. 1: General Notes, Text and Translations.
Taipei: Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica.
Terzani, Tiziano. 1997. A Fortune-Teller Told Me: Earthbound Travels in the Far
East. New York: Three Rivers Press.
Tong Enzheng. 1995. “Magician, Magic, Shamanism and Related Problems in
Ancient China,” Social Science in China 5: 180–97.
Topley, Marjorie, and Jean DeBernardi, eds. 2011. Cantonese Society in
Hong Kong and Singapore: Gender, Religion, Medicine, and Money. Hong
Kong: Hong Kong University Press.
Tseng, Lillian Lan-ying. 2011. Picturing Heaven in Early China. Cambridge,
MA: Harvard University Asia Series for the Harvard-Yenching Institute.
Tsien, Tsuen-hsuin. 2004. Written on Bamboo and Silk: The Beginnings
of Chinese Books and Inscriptions. With an Afterword by Edward
L. Shaughnessy. Second Edition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Tu, Weiming. 1985. Confucian Thoughts: Selfhood as Creative Transformation.
Unschuld, Paul U. 1985. Medicine in China: A History of Ideas.
Vyse, Stuart A. 2000. Believing in Magic: The Psychology of Superstition.
New York: Oxford University Press.
Waley, Arthur. 1933. “The Book of Changes.” Bulletin of the Museum of Far
Eastern Antiquities 5: 121–42.
_____, trans. 1978. The Book of Songs [1937]. New York: Grove Press
Evergreen.
Wang, Aihe. 2000. Cosmology and Political Culture in Early China.
Wang, C. H. 1974. The Bell and the Drum: Shih Ching as Formulaic Poetry in an
Oral Tradition. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Wang, Robin R. 2012. Yinyang: The Way of Heaven and Earth in Chinese Thought
and Culture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Watson, Burton, trans. 2007. The Analects of Confucius. New York: Columbia
University Press.
Webb, James. 1976. The Occult Underground. Chicago: Open Court.
Whincup, Gregory. 1986. Rediscovering the I Ching. New York; St. Martin’s
Griffin.
Whitlock, James C., Jr. 2003. Chinese Characters: A “Radical Approach.” Rev.
edition. Seoul: Inchokak.
Wilhelm, Richard. 2007. The Soul of China [1928]. Maple Shade, NJ: Lethe
Press.
281
B ibli o g r a ph y
_____, trans. 1962. The Secret of the Golden Flower. With a commentary by C.
G. Jung. Rev. edition. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
_____. 1979. Lectures on the I Ching: Constancy and Change. Trans. Irene Eber,
from the German. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Wilhelm, Richard, and Cary F. Baynes, trans. 1950. The I Ching or Book of
Changes. Foreword by C. G. Jung. 2 vols. 1st edition. New York: Bollingen
Foundation, Pantheon Books.
_____. 1967. The I Ching, or Book of Changes: The Richard Wilhelm Translation,
Rendered into English by Cary F. Baynes. Foreword by C. G. Jung. 3rd edi-
tion. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Wilkinson, Endymion. 2012. Chinese History: A New Manual. Cambridge,
MA: Harvard University Asia Center.
Williams, C. A. S. 1974. Outline of Chinese Symbolism and Art Motives [1941].
3rd rev. edition. Rutland, VT: Charles Tuttle.
Wittgenstein. Ludwig. 1993. “Remarks on Frazer’s Golden Bough.” In
Philosophical Occasions 1912–1951, ed. James C. Klagge and Alfred
Nordmann, p. 119. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett.
Wu, Chung. 2003. The Essentials of the Yi Jing: Translated, Annotated, and with
an Introduction and Notes. St. Paul, MN: Paragon House.
Wu Jing-Nuan. 1991. Yi Jing. Washington, DC: The Taoist Center.
Xing Wen. 2003. “Hexagram Pictures and Early Yi Schools: Reconsidering
the Book of Changes in Light of Excavated Yi Texts.” Monumental Serica
51: 571–604.
_____. 2005. “The Origins of Zhouyi (Book of Changes) Studies: A Perspective
on Allogram Order.” Contemporary Chinese Thought 36.4: 36–57.
Yan Wenming, ed. 2012. The History of Chinese Civilization. Vol. 1: Earliest
times 221 B.C.E. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Yang, Lihua, and Deming An, with Jessica Anderson Turner. 2005. Handbook
of Chinese Mythology. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Yap, Joey. 2008. The Chinese Metaphysics Compendium. Kuala Lampur: JY
Books.
Yates, Francis. 1966. The Art of Memory. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
Yates, Robin. 1994. “The Yin-Yang Texts from Yinqueshan: An Introduction
and Partial Reconstruction, with Notes on Their Significance in Relation
to Huang-Lao Daoism.” Early China 19: 331–66.
Yin, Weizhang (2002), “New Developments in the Research on the
Chronology of the Three Dynasties.” Trans. Victor Cunrui Xiong. Chinese
Archaeology 2: 1–5.
Zhang, Lily. 2011, Thirty Chapters on the History of Chinese Philosophy. Trans.
Christine Lu. Reviewed by Yafei Yang. Taipei: National Academy for
Educational Research.
Zhang Shangwen and Fu Huisheng. 2008. The Zhou Book of Changes. Library
of Chinese Classics. Vols.1–2. Hunan: Hunan People’s Publishing House.
282
B ibli o g r a ph y
Zhang Yachu and Liu Yu, 1981–1982. “Some Observations about Milfoil
Divination Based on Shang and Zhou Bagua Numerical Symbols.” Trans.
E. Shaughnessy. Early China 7: 46–55.
Zhu Bokun 朱伯崑. 1995. Yixue zhexue shi 易学哲学史 (History of the phi-
losophy of the Yi learning). Beijing: Huaxia chubanshe.
Znamenski, Andrei. 2011. Red Shambhala: Magic Prophecy, and Geopolitics in
the Heart of Asia. Wheaton, IL: Quest Books/Theosophical Publishing
House.
Electronic Media
http://www.biroco.com/yijing/. The best website for information about the

Changes, including the complete text in Chinese and pdf files of many
valuable articles. Also examples of eccentric use of the classic.
http://www.hermetica.info/. Very useful character-by-character English
equivalents, though more of a dictionary than a translation.
The Chinese Text Project has nearly all the ancient texts. For those trans-
lated by James Legge, including the Yijing, his English versions are inter-
posed. http://ctext.org (accessed 5/5/13).
283
INDEX
Adorno, Theodur W., 23–24 Carus, Paul, 4

Analects. See Lunyu Changes. See I Ching, Yijing, Zhouyi
ancestors, 22, 27–28, 30, 138 Channeling, 13, 27–28
ancestor worship, 138 Cheng Yi, viii, 10, 176–180
Anthony, Carol, 216–218 Chiang Kai-shek, 20
Apollo, 28 Christianity, 194–204
archetype, 144, 205–210 Chuan (Flow, Mawangdui hexagram),
astrology, 21–26, 34 100
Augustine, 28 Cicero, 27, 32–33
Cleary, Thomas, 34, 241
Bagua (Eight Trigrams), 150–152, cold reading, 222–224
162–163, 165, 168–169, 215, 221 Communist historiography, 185–188,
Baoshan manuscript, 101–105, 107 190–191
Baynes, Cary F., 198, 207, 240 Confucian classics, 2, 7
binary system, 226–229 Confucianism, 30–33, 134, 181,
Blofeld, John, 240–241 194–204
Bo (Flaying, hexagram 23), 90–91, Confucius, 3, 10–11, 13, 31, 37–38, 40,
132–133, 163, 248 45–46, 52, 61–62, 64–65, 79, 134,
Boardman, W.S., 240–241 155, 162
Book of Changes. See I Ching, Yijing, context criticism, 122–139,
Zhouyi 181–184
Bouvet, Fr Joachim, 195–198, 208, critique of, 127, 220
227–228 Cook, Constance, 96, 102–105
Bronze Age, Chinese, ix, 37–71, 203 Cook, Richard, 228–229
Buddhism 204, 205, 205n29, 225, 241, Cook, Scott, 112
241n8 correlative cosmology, 22, 29–30,
46–47, 109–110, 158–169
Cage, John, 221 Crowley, Aleister, 234–235
Capra, Fritjof, 225–226, 229 culture hero, 52–62, 193
285
Index
da ren (great or big person), 65–66, 177 Fuyang manuscript, 114–117

Dai, Lady, 43, 99
Dao (The Way), 31, 80, 106, 203 Gao Heng, 133, 184–187
Daodejing (Classics of the Way and Gauquelin, Michel, 24–25
Virtue), 46, 75–76, 79, 106, 218, Ge (Political Change, hexagram 49),
248, 266 149–150, 162, 165
Daoism, 28, 46 Gen (Mountain, hexagram 52), 68–69,
Dazhuan (The Great Commentary), 3, 163
31, 34, 46, 53–56, 112, 140–143, gender, 43, 72–92, 129, 243
153–157, 161, 254 Goldin, Paul R., 129
Dazhuang (Great Strength, hexagram Gou (Coming to Meet, hexagram 44),
34), 164 82–83, 163
De divinatione, 27, 32–33 Gu (Poison, hexagram 18), 135
Delphi, 28–29 Gu Jiegang, 184–185
Ding (The Cauldron, hexagram 50), Guan (Contemplation, hexagram 20),
149–150, 168–169, 212 85, 230
divination, 19–36, 73–75, 248–250, Guicang manuscript, 106–110
265–266 Guimei (The Marrying Maiden, hexagram
anecdotes in Zuozhuan, 67–71 54), 86–88
contemporary thinking of, 22–26 Gulik, Robert Hans van, 91
definition of, 19–22 Guo Moruo, 185
differences from fortune-telling, Guodian manuscript, 93–95
19–20 Gushibian (Debates on Ancient History),
practice of, 26–35, 247–250 184–185
reflection of daily life in ancient
China, 45–47 Halberthal, Moshe, 159
relation to the future of Yijing, 266 Han dynasty, 14–15, 39,
Dong Zhongshu, 81, 159–161 140–169
Doubting Antiquity Movement, 17, 40, Han Yi (Studies of the Changes of the
122–123, 184–187 Han dynasty), 158–169, 171–173
Doyle, Arthur Conan, 13 Hatcher, Bradford, 220
Dui (Joyous, hexagram 58), 199, 207 Heng (Permanence, hexagram 32), 150
Duke of Zhou. See Zhou, Duke of Hermeneutics, 21, 23, 159,
Dylan, Bob, 17 Hetu (Yellow River Diagram), 55
Hinsch, Bret, 80
ethics, 32–33, 65–66, 91, 129, 171–180 Hu Shi, 40
Eight Trigrams. See Bagua Hugua (interlocking trigrams), 165
Eliot, T.S., 17
I Ching, xi, 1, 4, 15, 237–247
Four Treasures of the Emperor. See Siku as a hippie classic, 235–237
quanshu bilingual editions and concordance,
fortune-telling, 20–21 245–246
Freud, Sigmund, 209, 217 differences from Zhouyi and Yijing,
Fu (Return, hexagram 24), 70–71, 14–16, 182–188
115–116, 163 how to read the text, 237–264
Fu Hao, Lady, 90 major translations, 239–244
Fu Xi, 17, 40, 51–57, 154, 178, 185, 227 relation to DNA, 224–226
286
Index
relation to natural sciences, 224–233 Line text (youci), 252

relation to the New Age, 233–235 Literati, 1–12, 32, 40, 64–66
relation to occultism, 233–235 Loewe, Michael, 160
translations by missionaries, Lunyu (Analects), 3, 11, 13, 15, 52, 55,
194–204 66, 79, 100, 129, 138, 207–208,
used in art, 220–222 248
used in cold reading, 222–224 Luoshu (LuoRiver Diagram), 15
used in mathematics and computer Lynn, Richard John, 47, 85, 130,
science, 226–229 241–242, 265
used in psychology and
psychotherapy, 204–218 McClatchie, Rev. Canon Thomas,
used in yarrow divination, 218–220 195–198
iconography. See Xiangshu mandate of heaven, 63, 138
Mao Zedong, 20
James, William, 13, 33 Marshall, S.J., 220
Ji Zhong manuscript, 110–111 Masson-Ousel, Paul, 230
Jian (Door Bolt; Mawangdui hexagram), Master, 244–245
77, 198 Mawangdui manuscript, 43, 67, 76–77,
Jiji (After Completion, hexagram 63), 95, 98, 99–101, 112, 189
91–92, 150, 164–165, 175–176 May Fourth Movement, 122,
Jin (Progress, hexagram 35), 212 182–183
Jing (Well, hexagram 48), 150, 212 mediumship, 13, 27–28
Jing Fang, 161 Meng (Youthful Folly, hexagram 4),
Jung, Carl G., 4, 15, 33–34, 105–218, 84–85, 135–137
233–234, 240, 265–266 Meng Xi, 161
junzi (superior or upright person), metaphysics. See correlative
65–66, 126, 131, 242 cosmology
milfoil. See yarrow
Kan (Abysmal, hexagram 29), 149, 212 missionaries, 194–204
Keightley, David, 6 Moog, Hanna, 216–218
Koch, Ulla Susanne, 22 Moran, Elizabeth, 244
Kuai (Resolution, hexagram 43), 149, Mu Jiang, Lady, 36, 68–71
163
Kun (Earth, hexagram 2), 76–82, 100, Needham, Joseph, 5, 229–233, 240
128–130, 143–147, 163, 178 New Culture Movement. See May Fourth
Kunst, Richard, 18, 132–133, 136, 242 Movement
New Age, x, 230, 233–235, 246–247
Lao Nai-hsuan (Lao Naixuan), 201, 240 Nielsen, Bent, 124–125
Laozi. See Daodejing numerology. See Xiangshu
Legge, James, 4–5, 18, 83, 85, 130, 193,
195, 198, 229, 234–235, 242 occultism, 7–8, 233–235
Leibniz, Gottfried, 226–229, 232 oracle, 28–29, 143–147
Lewis, Mark Edward, 142 oracle-bones, 8, 12–13, 29–30, 39, 43,
Li (Clinging or Fire, hexagram 30), 149, 47, 50, 59, 73, 105, 138
230
Lianshan (Connected Mountains), 106 pangtong (literally link hexagrams) 163
Lin (Approach, hexagram 19), 105 Pearson, Margaret, 76, 79, 82–83, 243
287
Index
Peat, David F., 214, 222–224 Shiji (Records of the Grand Historian),
philology. See context criticism 37, 42, 73
Pi (Obstruction, hexagram 21), 66, 218 Shijing (Classic of Songs), 39, 44–45, 65,
Plato, 28 76, 125, 134, 198
Pound, Ezra, 17 Shun, King, 31, 52, 154
psychology, 204–218 Shuogua (Explanation of the Trigrams),
psychotherapy, 215–218 109, 140–153, 254
punishment, 131–133 Siku quanshu (Four Treasures of the
Emperor),•xi
Qian (Heaven, hexagram 1), 76–82, Sima Qian, 37, 40, 42, 73
128–131, 143–147, 149, 162–163, Smith, Kidder, 177
174–175, 178, 217, 248 Smith, Richard J., x, 6, 25, 73, 108
Qian Lucan, 6–7 Socrates, 22
Qin Emperor, 38, 41, 231 Song dynasty, ix, 171–180
Qing dynasty, 38, 41 Songyi (Studies of the Changes of the
quantum physics, 225–226 Song dynasty), 171–180
soul travel, 28–29
Raphals, Lisa, 21 space, 144–147
Records of the Grand Historian. See Shiji Spring and Autumn Annals, 102–103, 139
Ricci, Matteo, 195–198 Spring and Autumn period, 15, 44,
Rutt, Richard, x, 15, 18, 83–84, 99–100, 64–65, 89, 95, 102–103, 105,
116–117, 129–130, 136–137, 195, 137–138
201–204, 242, 265 Sui (Follow, hexagram 17), 68–69
Suler, John, 215
sacrifice, 47–49, 133–134 Sun (Decrease, hexagram 41), 105, 149
sage, 30–33, 52–62 synchronicity, 210–214
Samdasanni, Sonu, 239
san cai (three potencies), 152, 156 Tai (Peace, hexagram 11), 66, 164
science, 224–235 Ten Wings,•xix, 3, 14, 31, 34, 37, 41,
self-cultivation, 32–33, 171–180 46, 53–56, 62, 99, 109, 140–157,
sexuality, 134–135 161–172, 177–179, 183–185,
shamanism, 28–29 187, 189, 203, 240, 241, 245, 249,
Shang dynasty, 12, 28, 57–63 253–255
Shang-Zhou transition, 57–63 tianming. See mandate of heaven
Shangdi (high god), 199 time, 144–147
Shanghai Museum manuscript, 93–95, three potencies. See san cai
113–114, 119–121 tortoise, 104
Shangshu (Classic of Documents), 48–49, Tu, Wei-ming, 172
57–61, 94, 102 Tuanzhuan (Commentary to the
Shannon, Claude, 228 Judgments), 140–153, 251, 253
Shao Yong, viiii, 10, 179, 196, 221, 228,
232, 265 urtext, 93
Shaughnessy, Edward L., x, 6, 40, 76–77,
95, 99–101, 108–110, 113–117, Waley, Arthur, 50, 135–136
125, 242 Wang, Aihe, 58–59
Shi (Army, hexagram 7), 108–109 Wang Bi, viii, 10, 18, 41, 79, 90–91, 130,
shi class, 49–51, 64–66. See also literati 173–176, 241
288
Index
Wang Chong, 60 yi (easy),•xi, 8

Wangshan manuscript, 20, 101–105 yiwei (changing the positions of
warfare, 47–49 hexagram lines), 164
Warring States period, 15, 26, 39, Yijing
79, 97–98, 102, 107, 112–114, as a system of signs, 147–152
137–138 bilingual editions and concordance,
Watts, Alan, 204–205 245–246
Webb, James, 235–236 Cheng Yi’s reading, 176–180
weeds, importunate, 135–137 commentarial traditions, 9–12,
Weiji (Before Completion, hexagram 64), 158–180
147–148, 150, 175–176 contemporary studies of, 188–191
Wen, King, 17, 40, 52, 57–63, 155 core text’s relation to Ten Wings,
Wenyan (Words of the Text), 68, 140–157
140–153, 162, 254 Dazhuan’s role in sealing the text,
Wilhelm, Richard, 4, 15, 193, 195, 153–157
198–201, 205–208 differences from Zhouyiand I Ching,
Wilhelm-Baynes translation, xi, 3, 4, 18, 14–16, 182–188
47, 82–91, 130, 135–136, dualities in reading, 16–18
140, 143, 205–207, 211, 212, how to read the text, 237–264
239–242 for the living, 12–14
will of heaven. See tianming modern translations, 239–244
women, 43, 72–92, 129, 243 phobia of, 6–8
Wu, King, 57–61 process of canonization, 152–157
Wu Ding, King, 73, 89, 102–105 relation to Christianity, 194–204
wuxing (five phases), 80 relation to Communist
historiography, 185–188
Xian (Influence, hexagram 31), 150, 248 relation to Doubting Antiquity
xiangshu (images and numbers), Movement, 184–185
158–169, 171–173 relation to oracles, 143–147
Xiangzhuan (Commentary to the relation to the modern notion of
Images), 140–153, 162, progress, 182–184
253–254 Shao Yong’s reading, 179–180
xiaoren (small or petty person), 65–66, translations by missionaries,
91, 129 194–204
xiaoxigua (hexagrams sequence of used in correlative cosmology,
dispersal and accumulation), 159–161, 168–169
166–168 used in moral cultivation,
Xing Wen, 98, 107, 118–119 171–180
Xu (Waiting, hexagram 5), 164 Wang Bi’s reading, 173–176
Xugua (hexagrams in sequence), Zhu Xi’s reading, 176–180
140–153, 189, 254 Yijing fever, 188–190
Xunzi, 26, 53 yin and yang, 1, 16, 75–82, 147–148
yin fengshui (geomancy for the dead),
yaoci (line text), 252 12–13
yarrow, 23, 29, 50. 104, 258–259 yuan heng li zheng (begin the offering;
Yi (Corners of the Mouth, hexagram 27), favorable to divine),•xii, 67,
69–71, 149, 231 128–131, 143–147
289
Index
Zagua (hexagrams in irregular order), women’s roles, 72–92

140–153 Zhouli (Book of Rituals of the Zhou),
Zhen (Thunder, hexagram 51), 166 106
Zhongfu (Inner Truth, hexagram 61), 76, Zhouyi (Changes of the Zhou dynasty),
116–117, 217 14–16, 182–188
Zhou, Duke of, 17–18, 52, 57–61, 155 differences from Yijing and I Ching,
Zhou dynasty, 13, 18, 30, 37–139, 14–16, 182–188
145–146, 153–157 divination anecdotes in the Zuochuan,
ancestors and ancestor worship, 13, 167–171
18, 22, 27–28, 30, 138 importunate weeds, 135–137
life in the Bronze Age, 41–44 morality, 137–139
importunate weeds, 135–137 origins of the text, 37–41, 51–52
regulations of daily life, 45–47 reconstructed meaning based on
sacrifices and warfare, 47–49, archaeological discoveries,
133–134 93–121
Shang-Zhou transition, 57–63 relation to ancestors and ancestor
social mobility, 49–51 worship, 22, 27–28, 30, 138
Spring and Autumn period, 15, 44, sacrifices and warfare, 47–49,
64–65, 89, 95, 102–103, 105, 133–134
137–138 social mobility, 49–51
toxic sex, 134–135 toxic sex, 134–135
Warring States period, 15, 26, 39, women’s roles in early Chinese
79, 97–98, 102, 107, 112–114, society, 72–92
137–138 Zhushu jinian (Bamboo Annals), 110
290

Hon, Tze-Ki, Redmond, Geoffrey P - Teaching The I Ching (2014)

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Hon, Tze-Ki, Redmond, Geoffrey P - Teaching The I Ching (2014)

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

TEACHING THE I CHING (BOOK OF CHANGES)

TEACHING RELIGIOUS STUDIES

Teaching Lévi-Strauss Teaching the Daode Jing

Geoffrey Redmond and Tze-ki Hon

Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press

Published in the United States of America by

© Oxford University Press 2014

You must not circulate this work in any other form

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Introduction: The Rewards and Perils of Studying

10. The Yijing’s Journey to the West 192

The Yijing易經, also referred to as the I Ching, or Book of Changes,

Prior English-language studies of the Yijing are plentiful; there

composing the classic are mythical, for example—we have briefly

While we have enjoyed a harmonious collaboration and agree on

A NOTE ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS

The Yijing, uniquely among scriptural texts, is inherently visual,

In general we have quoted from the standard English translations,

Chinese characters and pinyin are used sparingly. In general we pro-

While we both worked on all of the chapters, primary responsibility

We wish to acknowledge, first of all, the then editor of the AAR

an interest in the Book of Changes. These include Fr Joachim Bouvet

Chinese history is conventionally divided into dynasties, of which

Eras of mythical rulers and the Xia 夏dynasty: Mythical ori-

Warring States (403–221 BCE): Intense philosophical activ-

The Zhouyi (Earliest Texts)

• Images of the sixty-four hexagrams (from to )

The Ten Wings (Later Canonical Commentaries)

• 1–2: Tuanzhuan 彖傳 (Commentary to the Judgments)

underwent a sort of diaspora and are now found in contexts rang-

CL ASHING OPINIONS ABOUT AN

The Changes is a paradigm of heaven and earth. . . . Looking up,

The Dazhuan, the Great Commentary, also implies that Confucius

The Master [Confucius] said: “The Changes, how perfect it is! It

This is now thought to be apocryphal. Given that the Dazhuan was

Give me a few more years. . . . [I]‌f I have fifty years to study the

The Wilhelm-Baynes translation continues this conventional inter-

3. Dazhuan I.4; Lynn 1994: 51.

contributed to the Yijing’s reputation for profound wisdom, however

It was Richard Wilhelm’s German version, as translated into English

The I Ching insists on self-knowledge throughout. . . . It is appro-

[U]‌ntil the Chinese drop their hallucination about the I [Changes]

Despite his rather dismissive rhetoric, Legge was an untiring scholar

[A]‌n elaborate system of symbols and their explanations (not

But he added that “the abstractness of the symbolism gave it a decep-

9. Legge 1899; quoted in Needham (SSC II) 1956: 336.

The suspicion expressed by Legge and Needham persists to this

For years, friends and colleagues have warned me not to tackle

Fortunately, these now eminent scholars did not allow themselves to

14. Shaughnessy 1995: 223.

17. Smith 1991: 108.

GOING OVERBOARD: FACING THE HAZARDS

on the world stage, the waning of ideological suppression of schol-

HELP FOR THE PERPLEXED: THE YIJING AND

The literati of premodern China who studied the Changes also

thinkers to project their own ideas onto it. Confucius frequently

Formerly people studied to improve themselves; now they do so

Concern with behaving in accord with prescribed rules affected the

When kings acted . . . they necessarily accorded with yin and yang

Here it is clearly implied that when rulers have an understanding of

22. Lunyu 7: 20; Lau 1992: 61.

empire. Such an understanding came to be one of the basic principles

THE YIJING WAS FOR THE LIVING