Essays in Idleness

When Hsu Yü was offered the throne of Yao (severest and most upright of the “Five Emperors” of classical China, in the XXIVth century “BCE”), he was scandalized. He ran to a waterfall, to clean his ear from the sting of this ungodly temptation. His friend Ch’ao, noticing his ox drinking from the water below the fall, came to lead it away.

A reproduction of a Japanese ink-&-colour screen, depicting this scene, was painted most likely by Kano Sanraku (1559–1635). It has a gorgeous gold ground, and it decorated my bedroom for some time, during my childhood. (A gift from my father, who loved all things Oriental.) Later, when it was lost, I found another copy in an old Faber monograph by Basil Gray, so I have it yet.

What should you do if a man of incomparable power, high authority, and magic destiny, should offer to abdicate in your favour? This happens so rarely that most moderns would perhaps be confused, and not know what to do. It is why this commemoration of Hsu Yü, prevailing over the taint of worldly wisdom — a favourite theme among early Zen artists in China — is so very useful.

You must not hesitate. Go wash out your ears, right away!