Ancient Confusion： Mistranslations and Misinterpretations in Classical Chinese Literature

Imagine a world where access to books is limited, copying texts is laborious, and standardized education is scarce. Welcome to ancient China, where mistranslations and misinterpretations of classical literature were par for the course.

One of the primary reasons for widespread confusion was the sheer difficulty of the Chinese writing system. With thousands of characters to memorize, many of which have similar appearances or pronunciations, even scholars could fall prey to mistakes. The story of a ceremony officiant who confused the characters for “mother” (母 mǔ) and “none” (莫 mò), “dog” (狗 gǒu) and “all” (芾 fú) in a classical text, leading him to proclaim he wanted to be reborn as a “mother dog” in the afterlife, exemplifies the humorously disastrous consequences of character mix-ups.

However, limited literacy was not the only culprit. Before the invention of printing, books were precious commodities, often restricted to wealthy households or government institutions. As one Song Dynasty poet lamented: “Books, in my childhood, were scarce; we could not afford the volumes in the Zhang family’s collection.” For the average person, exposure to the classics was minimal, making it difficult to spot errors or compare interpretations.

Even when books were available, textual errors abounded. Hand-copying was the primary mode of textual transmission for centuries. Whether due to visual similarity between characters, transcription mistakes, or damage to the original text over time, errors could creep in and be propagated for generations. The telephone game of textual transmission meant that even influential commentaries could be based on flawed versions of the classics.

Sometimes, the original text was so obscure that it baffled readers across generations. The Daoist classic “Zhuangzi” was notorious for its esoteric language, with the majority of readers struggling to comprehend its meaning for thousands of years until scholar Sun Xingyan’s annotations in the late Qing Dynasty made it reasonably accessible.

Officials were appointed to catch mistakes in texts, such as the “School Proofreader” (校书郎 jiàoshūláng), underscoring the pervasiveness of the problem. The fact that ancestors of Confucius himself were renowned for their commentaries to rectify earlier misinterpretations of the classics demonstrates that even the most revered sages were not immune.

Ultimately, the real wonder is not that mistranslations and misunderstandings occurred, but that the essence of these works managed to survive and shape Chinese civilization for millennia despite the centuries-long game of telephone. The resilience of China’s literary heritage is a testament to the dedication of countless scholars who tirelessly worked to preserve and transmit these treasures, errors and all. In a world where a misplaced brushstroke could alter the course of interpretation, the enduring impact of the Chinese classics is nothing short of miraculous.