The 2019 Khyentse Foundation Prize for Outstanding Translation was awarded to Dr. Karl Brunnhölzl for A Compendium of the Mahāyāna: Asaṅga’s Mahāyānasaṃgraha and Its Indian and Tibetan Commentaries (Shambhala Publications, 2018), a monumental three-volume work and the first complete English translation of the fourth century C.E. text. Originally written by a philosopher and spiritual teacher, it presents an extensive overview of the Yogācāra School of Mahāyāna Buddhism, which explores the nature of consciousness, existence, and spiritual practice.
Upon accepting the Khyentse Foundation Translation Prize, Dr. Brunnhölzl said, “I feel very honored and privileged to receive this award—more importantly though, the prize highlights the major significance of the entire Yogācāra tradition in general, as well as Asanga’s Mahāyānasaṃgraha, and specifically its commentarial tradition as being a major Indian Buddhist system of thought and practice that has been vastly influential over many hundreds of years in numerous countries. It is my wish that these volumes may be a small contribution toward Yogācāra receiving the attention and appreciation in the English-speaking world that it deserves.”
In light of the new wealth of knowledge that Dr. Brunnhölzl has made accessible to English readers, and with the wish that it reaches knowledge-seekers new and old, I gladly share this most timely and opportune correspondence.
Chime Lama (CL): Dr. Brunnhölzl, given that you were trained as a medical doctor, what made you shift your career path in favor of religious studies?
Karl Brunnhölzl (KB): Many people ask me that question, mostly because they find it strange to give up the well-respected, well-paid, and (mostly) beneficial profession of a physician in order to pursue something more “ethereal.” I became a Buddhist during my medical studies in 1983, and was even considering quitting to become a Buddhist translator, feeling that this was my true calling. However, my teacher gave me the good advice to finish medical school and study Buddhism afterwards, while having a solid financial footing. And so I did that for twenty years: working half the year as a doctor (in others’ clinics) and going to Nepal and India in pursuit of Buddhism for the other half. That proved to be a viable way of pursuing my religious studies, rather than having to quit due to lack of funding, like many others I know have had to do.
Now, why did I switch careers? When I worked as a doctor, I realized that many people came to the clinic not so much because of their physical problems but because of all kinds of mental stress and conflicts. So, in addition to dealing with the physical aspects of suffering, I also spent a lot of time in the role of psychotherapist or life coach. It also occurred to me that a lot of diseases (both mental and physical) are based in karma and that just treating symptoms is not the real solution, especially for people who want to get to the root of the problem.
CL: For those who are new to Buddhism, how might you suggest that it be understood with regard to other world religions and/or in terms of the proverbial science versus religion debate?
KB: A Buddhist way of answering this would be: “It depends on how you define religion and science.” Personally, I think Buddhism is both a religion and a science, but fundamentally it is a way of life and a way to explore our own mind in all its dimensions. We also need to consider that, for the longest time in human history, what we call “religion” and “science” were not two opposed things; their separation and perceived incompatibility is a rather new phenomenon that originated in the Western world. When it comes to science, obviously, Buddhism is not a “hard” science like physics or chemistry, but if Buddhism is understood as an empiric way of systematic introspection to learn what our mind is, how it functions, how it can be trained, and how to manifest its full potential of total awareness paired with tremendous love, well-being, and flexibility, it can certainly be considered “a science of the mind.”
CL: What inspired you to begin the great project of translating A Compendium of the Mahayana?
KB: I have always been inspired by the Yogācāra School of Buddhism, whether in its Indian origins, its Chinese developments, or its incorporation into certain Tibetan philosophic views. Given the debates in the Tibetan tradition about the relevance of Yogācāra, it came to the point where I wanted to check out the original Indian sources. Due to the confusion that surrounded these topics, I felt inspired to offer some clarifications. It turned out that what Tibetans call “Mind-Only School” and the actual Yogācāra teachings in India differ in a number of significant ways. One of the most comprehensive works to highlight these differences is Asanga’s Compendium of the Mahayana, including its Indian commentaries. Thus, it seemed to be the perfect text to tackle this issue.
CL: What goes into the translation of such a voluminous work? What were the major challenges of translatability from Tibetan to English?
KB: I tend to err on being overly thorough, so once I got into this project, it turned out that my original scope of “just” translating Asanga’s Compendium of the Mahayana and its Indian commentaries would not be enough. Thus, I consulted and partly translated virtually all other Indian Yogācāra texts. I also included excerpts from the few available Tibetan commentaries, and the most fundamental Yogācāra work in the Chinese tradition. In addition, I did extensive research on the origins and development of the Yogācāra notions on the storehouse-consciousness and the afflicted mind, which meant searching all Indian Yogācāra and some Tibetan and Chinese texts for pertinent passages.
The main challenge in translating from Tibetan to English was that there are no available Sanskrit versions of Asanga’s Compendium and its Indian commentaries. As I mentioned, Tibetan texts that had previously been translated from Sanskrit often do not read like natural Tibetan but attempt to be close to the Sanskrit in a very literal way. This frequently results in phrases that are very difficult to make sense of. Fortunately, one of the Tibetan commentaries was helpful here, because it rephrased some passages in more natural Tibetan.
CL: Are there any notes that you would like to share from your experience with young translators?
KB: Read as much as you can in Tibetan (and if possible, Sanskrit), not just what you translate. Context is everything in Tibetan, and various contexts will help to get a better understanding of how words and technical terms are used in a number of ways. Try to also learn Sanskrit; it will help your Tibetan translations, especially those that come from Sanskrit. Find knowledgeable Tibetan scholars/practitioners who are willing and able to answer your questions, and maybe even comment on your text. However, be aware that most of them, no matter how knowledgeable they may be in their Tibetan tradition, are not translators and thus cannot necessarily help with all aspects of translating into another language. Given this, also try to receive training and advice from senior translators. In the beginning, focus on one or two genres and then expand from there, and know that nobody is equally well-conversant with all genres. Therefore, try to pick your specific area of interest and expertise. Also, be aware that oral interpretation and written translation require two quite different skill sets, and not many people are equally good in both. In written translations, contextualize your text in the wider Tibetan Buddhist tradition as well as for a contemporary audience. Be aware that as a translator, you are also a translator between different mindsets, cultures, society structures, and worldviews.
Personally, I benefit tremendously from having studied Buddhism and Sanskrit in a Western academic setting. I appreciate all the editorial, text-critical, and translation work done by many academic scholars all over the world; the knowledge of Sanskrit and the research of others in the field helped me understand many Tibetan technical terms and teachings in new and better ways. It also helped me to identify many text sources and translation tools that I would not have been aware of otherwise. All this broadened my own understanding and approach to translation, research, and writing. Put in very general terms, I see no contradiction between the rigorous academic approach and the more intuitive and experiential approach of the Tibetan tradition; instead I find them to be wonderfully complementary and enriching.
CL: In a more general sense, translating such culturally and religiously embedded language, like the kind found in this text and others, must pose culture–specific challenges. How do you deal with such complexities? What does the translator have to sacrifice and prioritize in their translations of texts like these?
KB: Most of these texts come from a culture, religion, and society that is alien to the modern reader not only in terms of its physical distance but also in terms of the times. The other main challenge is that almost all of these texts were written by master scholars for other scholars or by meditation masters for other (usually advanced) meditators. Neither in India nor in Tibet was there such a thing as a general readership—education was largely confined to monasteries or ashrams. It is like trying to read an essay written by Einstein to another famous physicist with only the vaguest notion of quantum physics. Thus, many things need to be contextualized, both in terms of their technical, religious, or philosophical meaning, and also their cultural context. However, one needs to identify one’s main target audience, since the levels of Buddhist knowledge on the side of readers in the modern world have a wide range. One also needs to distinguish between how certain things were understood at different times in India and in Tibet, being aware of developments and innovations in certain areas of textual writing and meditative approaches. It furthermore helps to identify which specific view a traditional writer is addressing or criticizing because often they do not mention their opponents by name and do not present any context for the positions they attack.
Another issue is that there are no generally accepted translations of many Buddhist terms into modern languages. Thus, one also needs to explain one’s major translation choices, especially if they deviate from the mainstream and are bound to a certain context or genre. Especially in highly technical texts, the precision and the full range of words in the original languages can often not be conveyed, or only to some extent. Likewise, the creative hermeneutical etymologies of certain Sanskrit and Tibetan terms cannot be conveyed in translation (only explained in footnotes).
CL: Translators, called lotsawas in Tibetan, were revered throughout centuries for importing Buddhist teachings to Tibet from India. What are the continuities and departures from this traditional role for a modern day lotsawa engaging with Tibetan works?
KB: There are many things that are the same; for starters, you need to know both the source language and the target language very well. This is especially so in Tibetan Buddhism with its many genres of spiritual literature; you need to know at least several of these genres, how they use the same technical terms in very different ways, and what exactly each one of those technical terms means in its own specific context. And, you need people in the tradition with expertise in the texts you are translating to clarify difficult points.
What is different? Traditionally, Tibetan lotsawas always worked in teams that included an Indian master and a Tibetan translator. That is often still the case, but sometimes there is no one from the Tibetan side who has time, or is willing, or has the specifically needed expertise to work on translation. Also, Tibetans usually cannot help us with questions about Sanskrit. Though there is a trend to work not just in pairs but in translation groups of several translators (sometimes, as in the 84,000 project—a global initiative to translate Buddhist texts into modern languages—experts in Sanskrit and Chinese will be included, as well as several editors), a lot of translators still work alone.
When translating Tibetan texts that had previously been translated from Sanskrit or other Indic languages, there is the added difficulty that a lot of these Tibetan translations do not read like natural Tibetan, because they frequently try to be close to the Sanskrit or other Indic languages in a very literal way. However, the syntax of Sanskrit and Tibetan is very different. Also, Sanskrit words that belong together, even if they are out of order (such as in poetry), are usually still easily recognizable as such by their congruent case endings, while there is no such thing in Tibetan. This often results in phrases that when read in Tibetan without knowing the underlying Sanskrit, either mean something quite different or simply make no sense in Tibetan. To give an example of this, in the Caryāgītikośavṛtti, a Sanskrit commentary on Bengali songs of realization, the Sanskrit sentence tam eva arthaṃ pramuditāryadevapādāḥ pratipādayanti means “The elated Āryadevapāda discusses this topic,” while Tibetan de kho na nyid kyi don gyis rab tu dgyes pa’i ’phags pa lha’i zhabs kyis gsungs te, when read on its own, means “Āryadevapāda, who is elated by the actuality of true reality, discusses the following: . . .”
Another significant difference is that the Tibetan lotsawas are supported and honored by customs like being offered their weight in gold, and so on. Though the livelihood for some present translators has improved in the last years, it is still very difficult for many to find full-time compensation. What has improved is that there are more places now where translators are systematically trained.
Dr. Karl Brunnhölzl was originally trained and employed as a physician for twenty years in Germany. Since 1989, he has served as a translator, interpreter, and Buddhist teacher mainly in Europe, India, and Nepal. Since 1999, he has acted as one of the main translators and teachers at the Nitartha Institute (director: Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche) in the USA, Canada, and Europe. In 2005, he was appointed as a Mitra, one of four senior teachers in the Nalandabodhi community of Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche. He is the author of about a dozen books on Buddhism, including The Center of the Sunlit Sky, Straight from the Heart, Gone Beyond, The Heart Attack Sutra, A Compendium of the Mahāyāna (all Snow Lion Publications), and Luminous Melodies (Wisdom Publications).
Chime Lama is a writer and translator currently based in New York City. She holds an MA in Divinity from the University of Chicago and is pursuing an MFA in Poetry at Brooklyn College. Her work has appeared in Wildflowers: A Woodstock Mountain Poetry Anthology, Green Kill Broadsheet, SWAMP, The Margins, and Brevitas: Anthology of the Short Poem (2019).
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