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This version irritates me a lot, largely because of Stephen Mitchell's arrogance in writing it (I'll go into that in a bit). This is not a translation (which Mitchell was at least gracious enough to make clear in the back of the book); it's a translation of various translations. The problem with this is that a translation of a translation turns out the same way that a copy of a copy does: while some of the original words and phrases are identifiable, there's a lot that's lost or skewed.

For example, here is a good translation of the first line of Ch. 3 by D.C. Lau: "Not to honor men of worth will keep the people from contention."

Stephen Mitchell's translation of the same line is: "If you overesteem great men, / people become powerless."

The original Wang Bi character in question is  Ž, or zh¨¥ng, which means "dispute," "strive," "contend," "fight," etc. It does not mean "powerless." By free-handing the translation, Mitchell alters the meaning of the text. While it doesn't damage the understanding of someone already familiar with Taoism and its literature, it does mislead those new to Taoism who seek an authentic introductory text to understand the philosophy.

As I mentioned above, what really irritates me is Mitchell's arrogance regarding his version of the text versus the original Chinese versions and the translations that more closely adhere to their meaning. In the question-and-answer section located in the back of the book, the querent says: "But it's one thing to translate Rilke and the Book of Job when you read German and Hebrew; it's quite another to translate books like the Tao Te Ching, the Bhagavad Gita, or Gilgamesh without any knowledge of the original languages." Mitchell's response is: "Yes, it's a different kind of venture, but not so different as you might think. Of course, I wouldn't dare work with a text that I didn't feel deeply connected to--I used to speak of my 'umbilical connection' to Lao-tzu. I had discovered the Tao Te Ching shortly before I began Zen training in 1973." Later, the querent asks: "You knew what Lao-tzu was talking about, through direct experience [in Zen meditation] of your own?" And Mitchell replies: "That's where my confidence came from." Essentially, Mitchell is claiming that his text is authentic because of his felt spiritual connection to its author, rather than it being an accurate translation of the text. But isn't the best translation one that is authentic on multiple levels, emotionally and literally? However, if I had to choose, I'd rather read a translation that is accurate and discover the emotional resonance on my own. Also, FYI: Zen is a school of Buddhism, not Taoist, though it was influenced by Taoism. They share some similar values and qualities, but they are distinct.

Mitchell continues: "There was also the excitement of the aesthetic challenge. Some calculated that by 1986 there were 102 translations of the Tao Te Ching into English alone. I had read six or seven of them, and although I loved the content, the language was mediocre at best: not much poetry in it, not much sparkle. This may sound arrogant too, and irrational. How can you fall in love with a book whose actual words bore you? But that's what happened." This sentiment, I think, is the source of all the problems I have with the text. It's completely non-Taoist. If Mitchell had paid attention to even his version of the last chapter, 81, which reads: "True words aren't eloquent; / eloquent words aren't true," he would have seen the folly of his approach. Instead, he decided that he'd rather cut entire paragraphs, rearrange the remaining words, and even alter the meaning to better suit his aesthetic values. His disregard for accuracy and his preference for his concept of beauty over truth not only shows a complete lack of respect for the text, the tradition and its culture of origin; it's also just not scholarly.

Another interesting admission made by Mitchell is that he spent only four months writing this version. "By contrast," he says, "it had taken me seventeen years to finish my translation of the Book of Job. So, obviously, I was getting more focused, or more efficient..." I disagree with him there--it's not obvious to me that he was any more focused or more efficient. The vast difference in time spent translating Job and rewriting the Tao Te Ching instead tells me that he worked very hard to faithfully render the former and just cobbled together the latter. Mitchell actually reads and understands Hebrew, so it's likely that he was aware of the nuances of the language and therefore understood the importance of accurately rendering the text into English. Mitchell doesn't read any Chinese. If the language is incomprehensible to him, how can he possibly grasp the nuances of the characters in order to accurately translate them for others?

This isn't to say that his version is completely wrong. Many sections are fairly accurate (like the line in Ch. 81 that I mentioned above). But there are also many places in his text that are inaccurate to the point of misconstruing the core concepts of the belief system.

So if you're new to Taoism and are looking for a translation that accurately communicates Taoist beliefs and sensibilities, I suggest that you go somewhere else. There are many other translations that more accurately render the Tao Te Ching in English. Each has its own particular "flavor" and may contain slightly different words or rhythms, but most aim to faithfully present an accurate translation of the text that, while not serving every culture's aesthetic requirements, is very beautiful in its own way and has a lot of wisdom to offer, regardless of cultural and generational differences in taste. Here's a good website to get you started: The site provides not only several different translations, but also the original Wang Bi text with translations of each character.

If, however, you're already familiar with the Tao Te Ching and other Taoist literature, Mitchell's book at least serves as a good example of Taoism's effect on contemporary American culture.