Much like the dharmas described in a crucial section of the hōben chapter, they are characterized by “the absolute identity [or equality] of their beginning and end.”

Recognizing this makes it possible to see the sutra as much more sophisticated and philosophical than we had been led to think; we can also see why it had such profound implications for subsequent literary and aesthetic expression. By being self-reflexive, the sutra twists the reader’s attention into unexpected areas, areas that seem calculated to help him jettison his ordinary expectations about reading and interpretation. The parables (chapters three to seven) of the Lotus are presented as if they are going to illustrate what is meant by upāya (hōben) (chapter two); but it is equally true that the chapter on hōben explains, and is a means for understanding, the parabolic narratives. Thus, the illustration is in no way subordinate to what it illustrates. Unlike the Platonic allegory in the medieval Christian West—”a shadow of something else more real or more significant” —the narratives of the Lotus are not a means to an end beyond themselves. Their concrete mode of expression is not “chaff” to be dispensed with in order to attain a more abstract, rational, or spiritual truth. The Lotus is unequivocal on this point: “One may seek in every one of the ten directions but will find no mode [hōben] other than the Buddha’s.” This accounts for what may seem to be an inordinate amount of praise directed by the sutra toward itself. It also implies that within the sutra there is an unmistakable philosophical move opposite to that in Plato’s Republic, a move to affirm the complete reality of the world of concrete phenomena in spite of the fact that they are impermanent.