#Binge Reviewing my previous Reads # Buddhism, Foundational Texts & Scriptures
Reading this is like stepping into a spacious hall where the Buddha holds forth at length on themes both cosmic and intimate. Whereas the Majjhima Nikāya offers middle-length, tightly focused teachings, the Dīgha Nikāya collects 34 suttas that unfold like full symphonies—carefully structured, layered, and expansive.
In these texts, we see the Buddha engaging with kings, Brahmins, sceptical wanderers, and devoted disciples in settings that often combine philosophical depth, ethical instruction, and dramatic narrative. It is the most “public” of the Nikāyas, with discourses that feel like they were delivered not just for monks but for the wider society of his time.
What strikes one first is the sheer range. Some suttas, such as the Mahāparinibbāna Sutta, narrate the Buddha’s final days with vivid detail—his last journey, his instructions to the sangha, and the moments of his passing into parinibbāna. Others, like the Sāmaññaphala Sutta, describe the fruits of the contemplative life with psychological precision and ethical sweep. There are grand cosmological discourses—the Aggañña Sutta’s playful yet profound origin story of society, or the Mahāsamaya Sutta’s vision of a vast assembly of deities.
Together they show the Buddha not only as a master of meditative and ethical training but also as a teacher who could situate human life within an immense cosmic and moral order, making the path intelligible to diverse audiences.
Maurice Walshe’s translation gives these discourses a dignity and readability that makes them accessible without flattening their complexity. His introductions to each sutta offer background on the setting, doctrinal themes, and key Pāli terms. The English flows clearly but retains a formal cadence appropriate to the grandeur of the material.
This balance is important: the Dīgha Nikāya’s style is inherently repetitive and ritualistic, as suited to oral transmission. Walshe preserves this rhythm, so one hears the echo of a living oral tradition rather than a polished, modernised paraphrase.
Compared with the Majjhima Nikāya, the Dīgha’s suttas are more ceremonial, more often framed as dialogues or debates with outsiders, and more prone to mythic or symbolic flourishes. For example, where the Majjhima might explain meditation stages in a practical way to a monk, the Dīgha will present the same themes embedded in a majestic dialogue with a king or ascetic, making the teaching resonate on a societal scale.
This expansiveness also gives it historical value: we see how the Buddha’s teachings intersected with Vedic ritualism, Brahmanical cosmology, and political power. The text thus serves as a window onto the intellectual and cultural life of ancient India.
For a modern reader, these “long discourses” are both a challenge and a reward. Their length and repetitions can be daunting at first; they invite a slower, more contemplative approach. However, the payoff is that one begins to feel how the teachings breathe: how ethical precepts, meditative instructions, and insights into reality were woven together as living discourse rather than isolated doctrines.
The Mahāparinibbāna Sutta alone is worth the journey—reading it feels like accompanying the Buddha on his final tour, hearing his counsel, and watching the sangha prepare to carry the Dhamma forward. It’s a narrative both intimate and cosmic.
The Dīgha Nikāya stands out as the grand, public face of the early canon. It complements the Majjhima’s middle-length dialogues and the Saṃyutta’s connected themes.
Together, these collections form a portrait of a teacher who could speak with kings and farmers alike, situating the path to awakening in both the everyday and the infinite. For anyone serious about encountering the Buddha’s teaching in its early form—not as a set of aphorisms, but as living speech—Walshe’s translation of The Long Discourses is indispensable.