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The Monk and the Philosopher: East Meets
West in a Father-Son Dialogue
Jean-François Revel and Matthieu
Ricard (trans. John Canti), HarperCollins, London, 1998.
Review by John Rees
Zadok Perspectives Issue No. 63
Autumn 1999
I RECENTLY VISITED THE LARGEST
Buddhist temple in the southern hemisphere.
Believe it or not, the Nan Tien Temple is located in my old home town
of Wollongong. Two elderly ladies of English descent walked passed me
on the temple steps and quaintly remarked that it was nice "how they
had made it so Chinese". Then three young surfie lads emerged from
the dining hall with chopsticks protruding antennae-like from their Ocean
& Earth beanies. My own thoughts were a mixture of fascination at
the surrounds and worry that some Christian good ol' boy might see me
in such a place.
Whether it be defined simply as an "ethnic religion", or as
something regarded with little discernment as either 'cool' or 'evil',
there is undoubtedly a gap between what Buddhism is and the understanding
of Buddhism in mainstream Western culture. The Monk and the Philosopher:
East Meets West in a Father-Son Dialogue is a French best-seller now available
in Australia that may go a long way to bridging this gap between image
and reality.
That word "best-seller" can at times apply to books that many
people own, yet not many are willing to talk about-buying does not always
lead to reading, nor reading to comprehending. Not so The Monk and the
Philosopher. This "best seller in France" is, for the most part,
readable (shortish chapters, diverse subjects) and understandable (hard
concepts conveyed in a popular style). But make sure you do read it before
placing it on that display bookshelf, as it is a sure conversation starter.
One explanation for the success of The Monk and the Philosopher is that
the participants are fascinating incarnations of their prospective worlds
of "West" and "East". An interpretation of the "West"
from Jean-Francois Revel, a French public intellectual. An interpretation
of the "East" from his son, Matthieu Ricard, a French scientist
converted to Tibetan Buddhism over two decades ago.
The dialogue between Revel and Ricard is interesting at many levels, and
therefore offers many ways to keep you reading. In personal terms, it
is a retrospective, a conversation between a father and son after many
years of journeying. In political terms, it is a dialogue that offers
insight into the spirituality of an oppressed people. The cause of Tibet
has much sympathy in the West, not the least because its oppressor is
China, that great non-Western superpower. In philosophical terms, it is
a debate between a modern rationalist and a premodern mystic (though still
appreciative of scientific truth, scientific rationalism is not at the
foundation of Ricard's belief), and this at a time when many would describe
Western culture as 'postmodern'. In spiritual terms, it is an engagement
between an atheist's sense of the numinous and the deep contemplation
of a Buddhist. The Monk and the Philosopher is a dialogue with a thick
past and a potent present.
While no book can be a proof-text for all that is represented by "East"
and "West", The Monk and the Philosopher is, nevertheless, of
great value because it offers insight into the first principles of two
men who have developed impeccably coherent world views that can be appropriately
described as "western" and "eastern". Fortunately
for the reader, Revel and Ricard do not lock into a do-or-die battle to
justify one life over another. For all their intellectual stature and
commitment to what they believe, the dialogue between them is warm and
engaging. In fact, one criticism offered is that the first half of the
book seems too warm, with Revel perhaps asking too many 'Dorothy Dixers'
and not debating with Ricard enough.
Revel and Ricard cover such an array of topics, from discussions about
the nature of religion and philosophy to the politics of China's occupation
of Tibet; from the nature of reality as social and/or individual to the
intricacies of Buddhist ritual; from reflections on their personal journey
to comparisons between Buddhism and psychoanalysis.
As a reader with a Christian perspective, I found much in this book that
helped me understand and appreciate Buddhism better. For example, Ricard
was often keen to stress Tibetan Buddhism's "middle way", where
inner enlightenment does not provide escape from the world, but an obligation
to the fundamental socio-political welfare of the world. However, there
were points of disappointment for me, such as Ricard's view that a society
is merely the sum total of its individuals (Thatcherite Buddhism?). Yet
it was here that Revel was at his best, offering strong arguments for
structural analysis.
Throughout the book, Christianity is defined as fundamentally Western,
which is understandable yet problematic, particularly because Ricard is
keen to define his own faith by its historical roots rather than its contemporary
usefulness. Why not regard Christianity in the same way? This is undoubtedly
because neither father nor son are, or ever have been, practitioners of
the Christian faith. Yet this does not serve as a definitive blow against
The Monk and the Philosopher. In fact, such an absence of a Christian
voice in the conversation acts as an invitation to the Christian reader,
not a repellent.
Conversion stories are as interesting for their historical timing as they
are as accounts of personal transformation. Take Augustine's Confessions
or The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton. The former, a best seller
of late antiquity, was a literary representation of the sea-change in
the West from paganism to Christendom. The latter, a best seller of 1948
about one man's conversion to the silence and contemplation of a Trappist
monastery, marked a radical contrast to the spiritual poverty of a war-torn
world.
So too The Monk and the Philosopher, which has undoubtedly raked in the
Francs more because of the Monk than his esteemed father. Tibetan Buddhism
is very popular in the West, with the fourteenth Dalai Lama as recognisable
today as Michael Jordan. Does this book symbolise a sea-change in Western
(post)modern spirituality, politics and culture? Such a question is a
constant thread woven throughout the dialogue.
What is so symbolic about Mathieu Ricard is, firstly, that he walked away
from a successful career in the 'hard science' of molecular genetics.
Second, Ricard did not convert to some 'de-caf' New Age Buddhism, but
submitted himself wholly to the ancient Tibetan tradition, and for the
past 20 years has lived in India and Nepal. Though he once embodied the
highest aspirations of the science-guided West, he has chosen another
path. He comes from the West, yet considers himself now from the East.
Ricard is the perfect messenger.
And, dare I say, the perfect man to lead many Westerners to Buddhism.
While accepting Ricard's protestations that Buddhism does not come to
proselytise, and while recognising that Jean-Francois Revel plays more
than a cameo role, the book seems to have an apologetic trajectory. This
is not a criticism. The great problem of 'apologetics' is that it so often
occurs in the form of a conversation with oneself rather than genuine
dialogue. Here is apologetics without the nauseating triumphalism-Ricard
does not convert his father to Buddhism, while Revel becomes "more
appreciative" of some aspects of his son's belief yet "more
sceptical" about others.
One more thing: I might suggest that you watch the movie Kundun before
reading The Monk and the Philosopher. This excellent (though Hollywood)
presentation of the early life of the Dalai Lama will help immerse Matthieu
Ricard's words into the ritual and history of his adopted world, a world
that is coming to a neighbourhood near you.
John Rees is a lecturer at the Australian College of Ministries and a
theological educator for TEAR Australia. He lives in Sydney.
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