Translations of the Record of Linji have created markedly different portraits of Linji and of Rinzai Zen itself. Some renderings preserve the rawness of his language—his shouts, insults, and violent metaphors—so that he appears as a fierce, iconoclastic teacher who uses shock as a deliberate method. Other translations soften or euphemize these same passages, or surround them with explanatory glosses, so that the emphasis shifts toward symbolic meaning and compassionate pedagogy rather than sheer ferocity. As a result, readers may encounter Linji either as a radical breaker of idols or as a subtle guide employing unconventional means, depending largely on how tone and voice are handled.

The treatment of key technical terms also exerts a powerful influence. Expressions such as “true person of no rank” can appear as “true man,” “authentic person,” or “person of no status,” each variant carrying different implications about gender, social hierarchy, and spiritual status. Likewise, choices around terms for mind, Buddha, or the Way can tilt interpretation toward metaphysical absolutes, experiential immediacy, or social critique. Even capitalization and small shifts in phrasing can make Linji seem closer to a nondual philosopher, a phenomenologist of direct experience, or a critic of institutional roles.

Different translation strategies further shape whether the text is received as a living practice manual or as a historical document. Translators rooted in Zen practice often highlight the abruptness, non-sequiturs, and “encounter dialogue” quality of the sermons, preserving their function as kōan-like challenges and emphasizing sudden awakening through confrontation. More academically oriented translations tend to smooth transitions, clarify implied logic, and situate Linji within Tang Buddhist discourse, thus presenting the work as a carefully constructed anthology embedded in specific institutional and literary contexts. These divergent approaches can lead readers either to engage the text as an immediate spiritual provocation or to study it as a window into Chan rhetoric and doctrine.

Finally, the balance between austerity and explanation in translation plays a decisive role. Some versions keep the text spare and ambiguous, minimizing interpretive additions so that readers must wrestle directly with Linji’s words, with all their unresolved tensions. Others build interpretation into the translation itself or into extensive notes, making the teachings more accessible but also channeling them into particular readings of emptiness, Buddha-nature, or enlightenment. Across these variations, multiple “Linjis” emerge: a hard-edged master of shouts and blows, a refined expositor of nonduality, a historical Chan abbot shaped by later redaction, or a more universal spiritual voice abstracted from his original monastic world.