第一章 哲学种子：先秦思想如何埋下中国绘画的美学基因

两千三百年前的函谷关，十二月的雪下得正紧，关令尹喜站在城楼上，看见一个紫髯碧眼的老者，骑着一头青牛，缓缓往关隘走来。牛蹄踏在雪上，印出两行深深的辙，老者怀里揣着一卷竹简，衣襟上落了一层雪，却浑然不觉——这就是老子，李耳，周朝的守藏室之史，此刻正要出关西去，不知所终。 Two thousand three hundred years ago, in the twelfth month, snow fell heavily on the Hangu Pass. The pass commander Yin Xi stood on the city wall, spotting an elderly man with a purple beard and blue eyes, riding a green ox, slowly making his way toward the pass. The ox’s hooves left two deep tracks in the snow. The old man clutched a bundle of bamboo slips in his arms, snow dusting his robe, yet he seemed utterly unaware of it. This was Laozi, or Li Er, the archivist of the Zhou Dynasty’s royal library, now heading west out of the pass, destination unknown.

尹喜是当时有名的道家学者，他一眼就认出这位老者就是传说中博学的老子，连忙下城楼拦住去路，躬身行礼：“您要出关了，能不能给我们留下点什么？您知道的，现在天下礼崩乐坏，诸侯征伐，百姓受苦，您博古通今，总得给后人留点指引啊。” Yin Xi, a renowned Daoist scholar of the time, immediately recognized the old man as the legendary learned Laozi. He hurried down from the wall to block the path, bowing deeply: “You are leaving the pass now—could you leave something behind for us? As you know, the rites are collapsing, warlords fight endlessly, and the people suffer. You know the past and present so well—surely you must leave some guidance for future generations.”

老子被他的诚意打动，便在函谷关的客馆里，花了几天时间，写下了一部只有五千多字的著作，就是后来闻名于世的《道德经》。书里开篇第一句就说：“道可道，非常道；名可名，非常名。”紧接着又说：“人法地，地法天，天法道，道法自然。” Moved by his sincerity, Laozi spent a few days in the pass’s guesthouse writing a work of just over 5,000 characters, later known as the *Tao Te Ching*. Its opening line reads: “The Dao that can be spoken is not the eternal Dao; the name that can be named is not the eternal name.” It goes on to state: “Humans follow the earth, the earth follows heaven, heaven follows the Dao, the Dao follows nature.”

> 📌 侧边栏：《道德经》的成书争议 > Most scholars now agree the text was compiled between the 4th and 3rd centuries BCE, drawing on earlier oral traditions of Laozi’s teachings, rather than being written by Laozi himself during his journey west. The 5,000-character text became the foundational scripture of Daoism, and its core premise of “the Dao follows nature” would shape Chinese aesthetic thought for over two millennia. > 📌 Sidebar: Dating of the *Tao Te Ching* > Most scholars now agree the text was compiled between the 4th and 3rd centuries BCE, drawing on earlier oral traditions of Laozi’s teachings, rather than being written by Laozi himself during his journey west. The 5,000-character text became the foundational scripture of Daoism, and its core premise of “the Dao follows nature” would shape Chinese aesthetic thought for over two millennia.

这里的“自然”，不是我们今天说的“大自然”，而是“自己如此”的意思，是事物本来的面目，是万物自身运行的规律，不是外在强加给它的。老子说“道法自然”，就是说最高的“道”，是遵循万物自身的本性的，不是强行改变它。这句话后来成了中国绘画最底层的逻辑：画家画山水，画花鸟，不是要画得像照片一样，逼真地复制自然的表面形状，而是要画出万物本来的“道”，画出它们的灵性，它们的本来面目。 The “nature” here does not refer to the natural world as we understand it today, but rather “that which is so of itself”: the inherent state of things, the natural order by which all things operate, not something imposed from outside. When Laozi says “the Dao follows nature,” he means the highest “Dao” follows the inherent nature of all things, rather than forcing them to change. This line would become the foundational logic of Chinese painting: when painters depict landscapes, flowers, or birds, they do not seek to create photorealistic copies of nature’s surface, but to capture the inherent “Dao” of all things, their spirit and essential nature.

老子还在《道德经》里说：“大音希声，大象无形。”意思是最大的声音是听不到的，最大的形象是看不见的。你听不到风穿过松林的声音吗？听得到，但那不是“大音”，大音是天地运行的声音，是听不到的；你看到山的样子了吗？看到了，但那不是“大象”，大象是万物的本原，是看不见的。这句话后来成了中国绘画里“虚实相生”的核心依据：画家画画，不能只画看得见的“实”，还要留出看不见的“虚”，就像你画一片竹林，不仅要画竹竿竹叶的形状，还要画出风吹过竹林的声音，画出竹影婆娑的感觉，那些没画出来的“虚”，才是画的灵魂。 Laozi also writes in the *Tao Te Ching*: “The greatest sound cannot be heard, the greatest form cannot be seen.” You can hear the wind rustling through pine forests, but that is not the “greatest sound”: the greatest sound is the sound of heaven and earth operating, which cannot be heard. You can see the shape of a mountain, but that is not the “greatest form”: the greatest form is the primordial source of all things, which cannot be seen. This line would become the core rationale for the Chinese painting principle of “the mutually generative relationship between the void and the solid”: painters cannot only depict the visible “solid,” but must leave space for the invisible “void.” When painting a bamboo grove, for example, one must not only paint the shape of the stalks and leaves, but also the sound of wind blowing through the grove, the feeling of shifting bamboo shadows. The unpainted “void” is the soul of the painting.

就在老子写下《道德经》的同一时期，南方的濠水边上，另一个道家的代表人物庄子，正在做着一个影响后世一千多年的梦。庄子是宋国人，他曾经做过宋国的地方小官，但是觉得做官束缚自己，就辞官回家了，靠编草鞋为生，楚王派大夫来请他去做相国，他拿着鱼竿头都不回，说“我宁愿在烂泥里拖着尾巴爬，也不愿意被供奉在庙堂上”。[^1] Around the same time Laozi wrote the *Tao Te Ching*, far to the south by the Hao River, another foundational Daoist thinker was having a dream that would shape Chinese aesthetics for over a millennium. Zhuangzi was from the state of Song. He once held a minor local office, but felt it restricted his freedom, so he resigned and returned home to make a living weaving straw sandals. When the king of Chu sent two officials to invite him to serve as prime minister, he held his fishing rod and did not even turn around, saying, “I would rather drag my tail in the mud than be enshrined in a temple.” [^1]

[^1]: 庄子. 《庄子·秋水》[M]. 郭象, 注. 北京: 中华书局, 2018: 156. [^1]: Zhuangzi. *Zhuangzi: The Autumn Floods* [M]. Annotated by Guo Xiang. Beijing: Zhonghua Book Company, 2018: 156.

有一天，庄子晚上做梦，梦见自己变成了蝴蝶，翩翩飞舞，十分快乐，一会儿落在花上，一会儿飞到树上，完全忘记了自己是庄子。等他醒过来，发现自己还是躺在床上的庄子，就突然迷茫了：到底是我庄子做梦变成了蝴蝶？还是蝴蝶做梦变成了庄子？ One day, Zhuangzi dreamed at night that he had turned into a butterfly, fluttering happily, landing on flowers one moment, flying into trees the next, completely forgetting he was Zhuangzi. When he woke up and found himself still lying in bed as Zhuangzi, he was suddenly confused: Was it I, Zhuangzi, who dreamed I became a butterfly? Or was it the butterfly who dreamed it became me?

这个“梦蝶”的故事，后来成了中国绘画里“物我两忘”的最高境界。画家画画的时候，不能有“我”和“物”的分别，不能想着“我要画一朵花”，而是要忘记自己是画家，忘记自己要画花，变成花本身，画出花的呼吸，花的生长，花的喜怒哀乐。只有物我两忘，画出来的东西才有生命，才有灵性，而不是死板的标本。 This story of the “butterfly dream” later became the highest ideal of “forgetting both self and object” in Chinese painting. When painting, the artist cannot maintain a separation between “self” and “object”: they cannot think “I am going to paint a flower,” but must forget they are a painter, forget they are painting a flower, and become the flower itself, painting its breath, its growth, its joys and sorrows. Only when self and object are both forgotten can the painted work have life and spirit, rather than being a rigid specimen.

就在庄子在濠水边钓鱼的时候，北方的鲁国，孔子正带着弟子们在洙水和泗水边上散步，讨论各自的志向。子路说，我要做一个能治理千乘之国的官，让国家强大，百姓信服；冉有说，我要做一个能治理小国家的官，让百姓富足；公西华说，我要做一个做傧相的人，在诸侯会盟的时候主持礼仪。孔子都不太满意，最后问曾皙，曾皙正在旁边弹琴，听到老师问他，就把琴放下，说：“我的志向嘛，就是暮春的时候，春天穿的单衣做好了，带上五六个人，六七个小孩，在沂水里洗洗澡，在舞雩台上吹吹风，然后唱着歌回来。” At the same time Zhuangzi was fishing by the Hao River, far to the north in the state of Lu, Confucius was walking along the Zi and Si Rivers with his disciples, discussing their ambitions. Zilu said he wanted to be an official who could govern a state of a thousand chariots, making the country strong and the people trusting; Ran You said he wanted to govern a smaller state, making the people prosperous; Gongxi Hua said he wanted to be a master of ceremonies, presiding over feudal lord alliances. Confucius was not satisfied with any of these, and finally asked Zeng Xi, who had been playing the zither nearby. Zeng Xi put down his instrument and said: “My ambition? It is simply this: in late spring, when the light spring clothes are ready, take five or six adults, six or seven children, bathe in the Yi River, cool off on the Rain Dance Terrace, then sing all the way home.”

孔子听了，长长地叹了一口气，说：“我赞同曾点啊。”这就是中国艺术史上最有名的一句话“吾与点也”，后来成了中国绘画最高的审美标准：不是要画什么惊天动地的东西，不是要画治国平天下的功业，是要画出生命本身的舒展，画出人和自然的和谐，画出那种“浴乎