Transcendental whistling

Terminology

Xiao

Shao

Textual examples

Shijing

• Our lady, when she was married, would not come near us; Would not come near us, but she blew that feeling away, and sang.
• Our lady that went to be married, Did not move us with her. She did not move us with her, But in the end she has let us come.
• This young lady went to her new home, but she would not pass us on; She would not pass us on, but crooningly she sings.

• I whistle and sing with wounded heart thinking of that great man.
• Full of woe is this song I chant, Thinking of that tall man.
• I wailingly sing with pained bosom, I am thinking of that tall man.

• There is a woman forced to leave her husband, Long-drawn are her groanings.
• Bitterly she sobs, Faced with man's unkindness.
• There is a girl who has been rejected; long-drawn-out is her wailing.

Chuci

O soul, come back! And enter the gate of the city. Skilled priests are there who call you, walking backwards to lead you in. Qin basket-work, silk cords of Qi, and silken banners of Zheng: All things are there proper for your recall; and with long-drawn, piercing cries they summon the wandering soul. O soul, come back! Return to your old abode.

The cassia trees grow thick In the mountain's recesses, Their branches interlacing. The mountain mists are high, The rocks are steep. In the sheer ravines The waters' waves run deep. Monkeys in chorus cry; Tigers and leopards roar. One has climbed up by the cassia boughs Who wishes to tarry there.

Like sounds harmonize together; Creatures mate with their own kind. The flying bird cries out to the flock; The deer calls, searching for his friends. If you strike gong, then gong responds; If you hit jue, then jue vibrates. The tiger roars, and the wind of the valley comes ; The dragon soars, and the radiant clouds come flying.

I think how my homeland has been brought to ruin, And the ghosts of my ancestors robbed of their proper service. I grieve that the line of my father's house is broken; My heart is dismayed and laments within me. I shall wander a while upon the sides of the mountain, And walk about upon the river's banks. I shall look down, whistling, on the deep waters, Wander far and wide, looking all about me.

Huainanzi

Fire flies upward; water flows downward. Thus, the flight of birds is aloft; the movement of fishes is downward. Things within the same class mutually move one another; root and twig mutually respond to each other. Therefore, when the burning mirror sees the sun, it ignites tinder and produces fire. When the square receptacle sees the moon, it moistens and produces water. When the tiger roars, the valley winds rush ; when the dragon arises, the bright clouds accumulate. When wrangle, the sun or moon is eclipsed; when the leviathan dies, comets appear. When silkworms secrete fragmented silk, the shang string snaps. When meteors fall, the Bohai surges upward.

Beauties messed up their hair and blackened their faces, spoiling their appearance. Those with fine voices filled their mouths with charcoal, kept their shut away, and did not sing. Mourners did not the fullness of grief; hunters did not obtain any joy. The Western Elder snapped her hair ornament; the Yellow God sighed and moaned.

Liexian zhuan

Chieh Yü, the madman of Ch'u, came past Master K'ung, singing as he went: "Oh phoenix, phoenix How dwindled is your power! As to the past, reproof is idle, But the future may yet be remedied. Desist, desist! Great in these days is the peril of those who fill office." Master K'ung got down, desiring to speak with him; but the madman hastened his step and got away, so that Master K'ung did not succeed in speaking with him.

When Confucius went to Ch'u, Chieh Yü, the madman of Ch'u, wandered about before his gate, saying:
"Phoenix! Oh, Phoenix! How your virtue has declined! The future you cannot wait for, The past you cannot pursue. When the Way prevails under heaven, The Sage seeks for accomplishment; When the Way is absent from the world, The sage seeks but to preserve his life. In an age like that of today, All he can hope for is to avoid punishment. …"

Lu Tong was the madman of Chu, Jieyu. He loved nourishing life, his food was beggarticks, wax-myrtles, and turnips. Lu traveled to famous mountains, and was sighted over many generations on the peak of Mount Emei, where he lived for several hundred years before departing. Jieyu delighted in talking about nourishing the inner nature and concealing one's brilliance. His custom was to mock Confucius, and proclaim a decline in the phoenix. He matched breaths with harmony and cherished the abstruse. He strode across lofty mountains, and transcendentally whistled on Mount Emei.

Xiaofu

The secluded gentleman, In sympathy with the extraordinary, And in love with the strange, Scorns the world and is unmindful of prestige. He breaks away from human endeavor and leaves it behind. He gazes up at the lofty, longing for the days of old; He ponders lengthily, his thoughts wandering afar. He would Climb Mount Chi, in order to maintain his moral integrity; Or float on the blue sea to wander with his ambition.
So he invites his trusted friends, Gathering about himself a group of like-minded. He gets at the essence of the ultimate secret of life; He researches the subtle mysteries of Tao and Te. He regrets that the common people are not yet enlightened; He alone, transcending all, has prior awakening. He finds constraining the narrow road of the world – He gazes up at the concourse of heaven, and treads the high vastness. Distancing himself from the exquisite and the common, he abandons his personal concerns; Then, filled with noble emotion, he gives a long-drawn whistle.
Thereupon, The dazzling spirit inclines its luminous form, Pouring its brilliance into Vesper's Vale. And his friends, rambling hand in hand, Stumble to a halt, stepping on their toes. He sends forth marvelous tones from his red lips, And stimulates mournful sounds from his gleaming teeth. The sound rises and falls, rolling in his throat. The breath rushes out and is repressed, then flies up like sparks. He harmonizes 'golden ' with 'sharp,' Blending and into 'flowing.' The whistle floats like a wandering cloud in the grand empyrean, And gathers a great wind for a myriad miles. When the song is finished, and the echoes die out, It leaves behind a pleasure that lingers on in the mind. Indeed, whistling is the most perfect natural music, Which cannot be imitated by strings or woodwinds.
Thus, the Whistler Uses no instrument to play his music, Nor any material borrowed from things. He chooses it from the near-at-hand—his own Self, And with his mind he controls his breath.

Should he then Imitate gong and drum, or mime clay vessels and gourds; here is a mass of sound like many instruments playing – Like reed pipe and flute of bamboo – Bumping boulders trembling, An horrendous crashing, smashing, breaking. Or should he Sound the tone, then severe winter becomes steaming hot; Give free play to yü, then a sharp frost makes summer fade; Move into, then a long autumn rain appears to fall in springtime; Strike up the tone, then a vernal breeze soughs in the bare branches.

The sounds and harmonies constantly fluctuate; The melody follows no strict beat. It runs, but does not run off. It stops, but does not stop up. Following his mouth and lips, he expands forth. Floating on his fragrant breath, he wanders afar. The music is, in essence, subtle with flowing echoes. The sound races impetuously, but with a harsh clarity. Indeed, with its supreme natural beauty, It is quite strange and other-worldly.

Shenxian zhuan

Liu Gen, styled Jun'an 君安, was a native of the capital at Chang'an. As a youth he understood the Five Classics. During the second year of the period of Han Emperor Cheng's reign, he was selected as a Filial and lncorrupt and was made a Gentleman of the Interior. Later he left the world behind and practiced the Way. He entered a cave on Mount Songgao that was situated directly above a sheer cliff over fifty thousand feet high. Winter or summer, he wore no clothing. The hair on his body grew one to two feet long. … Commandant Zhang, the new governor, took Liu Gen to be a fake, and he sent lictors to summon him, plotting to have him killed. … The commandant ordered over fifty men brandishing swords and pikes to tie Liu up and stand him at attention. Liu's face showed no change in color. The commandant interrogated Liu as follows: "So, do you possess any arts of the Dao?" "Yes." "Can you summon ghosts?" "I can." "Since you can," said the commandant, "you will bring ghosts before this chamber bench at once. If you do not, I will have you tortured and killed." Liu replied, "Causing ghosts to appear is quite easy." Liu Gen borrowed a brush and an inkstone and composed a memorial. a clanging sound like that of bronze or iron could be heard outside, and then came a long whistling sound, extremely plangent. All who heard it were awestruck, and the visitors all shook with fear. In another moment, an opening several dozen feet wide appeared in the south wall of the chamber, and four hundred or five hundred armored troops could be seen passing orders down the lines. Several dozen crimson-clad swordsmen then appeared, escorting a carriage straight through the opened wall into the chamber. The opened wall then returned to its former state. Liu Gen ordered the attendants to present the ghosts. With that, the crimson-clad guards flung back the shroud covering the carriage to reveal an old man and an old woman tightly bound inside. They hung their heads before the chamber bench. Upon examining them closely, the commandant saw that they were his deceased father and mother. Shocked and dismayed, he wept and was completely at a loss. The ghosts reprimanded him, saying, "When we were alive, you had not yet attained office, so we received no nourishment from your salary. Now that we are dead, what do you mean by offending a venerable official among divine transcendents and getting us arrested? After causing such a difficulty as this, aren't you ashamed even to stand among other people?" The commandant came down the steps and knocked his head on the ground before Liu Gen, saying that he deserved to die and begging that his ancestors be pardoned and released. Liu ordered the five hundred troops to take out the prisoners and release them. As the carriage moved out, the wall opened back up; then, when it was outside, the wall closed again and the carriage was nowhere to be seen. Liu had also disappeared.

Liu Gen was a native of Yingchuan. He dwelt in seclusion on Mount Song. Curiosity seekers came from afar to study the Dao with him. The Governor Shi Qi 史祈 took him for a charlatan and had him arrested and brought in to his offices. He questioned him, saying, "What arts do you have, that you mislead and deceive the people so? You will perform a confirmatory feat, or else you will die at once." Liu said, "I truly have no unusual powers, except that I have some small ability to cause people to see ghosts." "Summon one right now," Shi said, "so that I can see it with my own eyes, and only then will I take it as clearly established." At this, Liu Gen looked to the left and whistled. In a moment, Shi's deceased father, along with several dozen of his departed relatives, appeared before them, bound. They knocked their heads on the ground toward Liu and said, "Our son has acted wrongly and should be punished!" Then they turned to Shi Qi and said, "As a descendant, not only do you bring no benefit to your ancestors, but you bring trouble to us departed spirits! Knock your head on the ground and beg forgiveness for us!" Shi Qi, stricken with fear and remorse, knocked his head until it ran blood and begged to take the punishment for his crime himself Liu Gen remained silent and made no reply. Suddenly he all vanished.

Liu Zheng was a native of Pei. He was highly talented and broadly learned; there was little his studies had not covered. … He lived for more than one hundred eighty years, and his complexion was that of a youth. He could transform himself into other shapes and conceal his form … Further, he was capable of planting fruits of all types and causing them immediately to flower and ripen so as to be ready to eat. He could sit down and cause the traveling canteen to arrive, setting out a complete meal for up to several hundred people. His mere whistling could create a wind to set dust swirling and blow stones about. By pointing his finger he could make a room or a mountain out of a gourd; when he wanted to tear it down, he simply pointed again, and it would become as before. He could transform himself into the form of a beautiful woman. He could create fire and water, travel several thousand in a single day, create clouds by breathing over water, and make fog by raising his hands.

Shishuo xinyu

When Juan Chi whistled, he could be heard several hundred paces away. In the Su-men Mountains there appeared from nowhere a Realized Man about whom the woodcutters were all relaying tales. Juan Chi went to see for himself and spied the man squatting with clasped knees by the edge of a cliff. Chi climbed the ridge to approach him and then squatted opposite him. Chi rehearsed for him briefly matters from antiquity to the present, beginning with an exposition of the Way of Mystical Quiescence of the Yellow Emperor and Shen Nung, and ending with an investigation of the excellence of the Supreme Virtue of the Three Ages. But when Chi asked his opinion about it he remained aloof and made no reply. Chi then went on to expound that which lies beyond Activism, and the techniques of Resting the Spirit and Conducting the Vital Force. But when Chi looked toward him for a reply, he was still exactly as before, fixedly staring without turning. Chi therefore turned toward him and made a long whistling sound. After a long while the man finally laughed and said, "Do it again." Chi whistled a second time, but as his interest was now exhausted, he withdrew. He had returned about half-way down the ridge when he heard above him a shrillness like an orchestra of many instruments, while forests and valleys reechoed with the sound. Turning back to look, he discovered it was the whistling of the man he had just visited.

Juan Chi often went riding alone wherever his fancy led him, not following the roads or byways, to the point where carriage tracks would go no farther, and always he would return weeping bitterly. Once while he was wandering in the Su-men Mountains there was a recluse living there whose name no one knew, and whose only possessions were a few -measures of bamboo fruit, a mortar and pestle, and nothing more. When Juan Chi heard of him he went to see him and began conversing on the Way of Non-action of high antiquity, and went on to discuss the moral principles of the Five Emperors and Three August Ones. The Master of Su-men remained oblivious and never even looked his way. Chi then with a shrill sound made a long whistling whose echoes reverberated through the empty stillness. The Master of Su-men finally looked pleased and laughed. After Chi had gone down the hill, the Master gathered his breath and whistled shrilly with a sound like that of the phoenix. Chi had all his life been a connoisseur of music, and he borrowed the theme of his discussion with the Master of Su-men to express what was in his heart in a song, the words of which are: "The sun sets west of Mt. Pu-chou; The moon comes up from Cinnabar Pool. Essence of Yang is darkened and unseen; While Yin rays take their turn to win. His brilliance lasts but for a moment; her dark will soon again be full. If wealth and honor stay but for a trice must poverty and low estate be evermore?"

Jin shu

Once Chi met Sun Teng on Su-men Mountain. touched on topics of ancient times, and on the arts of "posing the spirit" and "leading the breath". Teng kept silent throughout. As a result, Chi expelled a long whistle, and took his leave. When he had descended halfway down the mountain, he heard a sound like the cry of the phoenix resounding throughout the peaks and valleys. It was the whistling of Teng.

Sun Teng, whose tzu was Kung-ho, was a man of Kung in Chi commandery. He was homeless, but stayed in the mountains in the north of the commandery where he lived in a cavern in the earth that he had made for himself. In summer he wove grasses to wear as a shirt and in winter he let his hair down to cover himself. He liked to read the and played a one-stringed zither. All those who saw him felt friendly towards him and took pleasure in his company. There was not an ounce of hatred or anger in him. He was one thrown into the water to arouse his anger, but he just came out and broke into an enormous guffaw. From time to time he would wander among men and some of the householders he passed would set out food and clothing for him, now of which he would keep: when he had taken his leave he threw them all away. Once when he went to the mountains at I-yang he was seen by some charcoal burners who knew he was not an ordinary man. But when they talked to him, he did not answer. Wen-ti heard about it and sent Juan Chi to investigate.

Xiaozhi

Air forced outwards from the throat and low in key is termed speech; forced outwards from the tongue and high in key is termed . The low key of speech is sufficient for the conduct of human affairs, for the expression of our natural feelings; the high key of whistling can move supernatural beings and is everlasting. Indeed, though a good speaker can win response from a thousand, a good whistler commands the attention of the whole world of spirits.

Laozi transmitted it to Queen Mother of the West, she to the Perfected Person of the South Polar Star 南極真人, he to Guangchengzi, he to the wind god Feng Bo, and he to Xiaofu 嘯夫 Father of Whistling. Father of Whistling taught it to Wu Guang 務光, he to Emperor Yao, and Yao to Emperor Shun, who invented the zither. Shun transmitted whistling to Yu the Great, after whom the art declined until it was revived by the Jin dynasty (266–420) Daoist transcendent Sun Gong 孫公 of Mt. Taihang who obtained the technique, achieved the Way, and disappeared without teaching it to anyone. Ruan Ji had a smattering knowledge of the art but after him it was lost and no longer heard.

The 'Su Men' was composed by the Taoist Immortal Recluse, who lived in the Su Men Mountains. The Holy One transmitted, he did not make it. The Immortal transmitted Kuang Ch'eng and Wu Kuang 務光 in order to rejoice the spirit and expand the Tao. He did not regard music as the main task. In olden days there were those who roved in Su Men listening to the phoenix' songs. The notes were exquisitely clear, very different from the so-called pretended phoenix. The phoenix makes sounds but humans cannot hear them. How then can the Su Family know the sound of the phoenix? Hereafter, when seeking the sound, bring up the Immortal's whistle. The Immortal's whistle does not stop at fostering the Tao and gratifying the spirits; for indeed, in everyday affairs it brings harmony into the world, and peace in season. In oneself the Tao never dies, in objective matters it assists all that is sacred, and conducts the Five Influences. In the arcana of Nature order prevails. For success in obtaining response nothing approaches music. The Immortal has evolved the one successful form. As to all wild things whistling is the one thing needful. Yuan Szu-tsung of Chin was a fine whistler. Hearing that the Immortal thought himself his equal, he went to visit him. The Immortal remained seated with his hair in disorder. Yuan bowed repeatedly and inquired after his health. Thrice and again thrice he addressed his host. The Immortal maintained his attitude and made no response. Chi then whistled some score of notes and left. The Immortal, estimating that his guest had not gone far, began to whistle the Ch'ing Chueh to the extent of four or five movements. But Chi perceived that the mountains and all growing things took on a different sound. Presently came a fierce whirlwind with pelting rain, followed by phoenixes and peacocks in flocks; no one could count them. Chi was alarmed, but also pleased, and he returned home and wrote down the story. He obtained only two-tenths of it, and called it 'Su Men'. This is what they tell there. The motif of the song is lofty mountains and wide marshes, great heights and distances.

The preface says, "the Queen Mother taught the Fairy of the South Polar Star; he passed it on to Kuang Ch'eng-tzu". This is extravagant talk, and not usually accepted. But the twelve methods are found in Sun Teng and Yuan Chi, so that we can truly say we have the general purport of Whistling. The Preface also says that Sun Teng did not hand on to anyone, and after Yuan Chi it disappeared and was no more heard. … Now the voice of man is the voice of the universe. Man may be ancient or modern, but sound is eternal, never new or old. Now this book is going forth and who knows whether a Sun or Yuan may not appear in some mountains or woods and, that being so, who can say that there is an end to Whistling?

Tang poetry

Climbing to the heights, I gaze afar at P'eng and Ying; The image imagined—the Terrace of Gold and Silver. At Heaven's Gate, one long whistle I give, And from a myriad the clear wind comes. Jade maidens, four or five persons, Gliding and whirling descend from the Nine Peripheries. Suppressing smiles, they lead me forward by immaculate hands, And let fall to me a cup of fluid aurora! I bow my head down, salute them twice, Ashamed for myself not to be of a transcendent's caliber.—But broad-ranging enough now to make the cosmos dwindle, I'll leave this world behind, oh how far away!

Hushao

An old legend of the celebrated encounter between the two men has Ruan Ji visiting Sun Deng in his hermitage but not receiving any responses to his questions. Thereupon, he withdraws and, halfway up a distant mountain, lets out a loud, piercing whistle. This is followed by Sun Deng's magnificent whistled reply, which inspires Ruan Ji to write the "Biography of Master Great Man," an encomium in praise of the Taoist "true man" that also satirizes the conventional Confucian "gentleman".

When the sound of whistling rose beneath the sunny empyrean, Sun Deng shuddered as though it were a bolt out of the blue. Shielding his eyes from the strong light with one hand, he saw Ruan Ji standing on the peak of Su Gate Mountain beneath a solitary tree. Against a backdrop of white clouds like thick cotton fleece, he stood motionless, seeing to wait for Sun Deng's answer. Sun Deng looked all around him, then quietly inserted his thumb and forefinger in his mouth—the extreme frailness of his body and the looseness of his teeth caused him to be unable to produce any sound. The shrill, desolate, plaintive whistle, accompanied by the soughing of the billowing pines, reverberated for a long time in the mountain valleys. It was like the sad wail of the poet who died long ago, penetrating through the barriers of time, continuing up till today, and sinking into the easily awakened dreams of a living person.