Laozi

Laozi, whose name simply means "Old Master," is one of the most mysterious figures in world literature. Tradition says he was born around 604 BC and worked as the keeper of the royal archives for the Zhou dynasty, the ruling house of ancient China. That job made him a quiet observer of power, because he spent his days among records of kings, wars and broken promises. Legend says the philosopher Confucius, his younger contemporary, once visited him and came away awed. As the Zhou court decayed, Laozi grew weary of politics and rode west toward the mountains to leave China behind. At the frontier pass, a gatekeeper named Yinxi begged him to write his wisdom down before he disappeared into the west. The result, says the story, was the Tao Te Ching, about five thousand Chinese characters on the Tao, the unnameable way that underlies all things. Modern scholars doubt the details. Some think Laozi was several people, or a legend attached to a text compiled over generations. It hardly matters. The voice in the book is real: calm, paradoxical and sly. It praises water because it is soft yet wears down stone. That voice founded Taoism and still unsettles the ambitious today.