HOKUSAI’S FUJI
Thames & Hudson 2023
Reviewed by Peadar O’Callaghan
Hours and hours with Hokusai
If you are lucky to possess a copy of Colm Tóbín’s Walking Along the Border, with photographs by Tony O’Shea (1987), there is a wonderful black and white photo in chapter 7 with the caption: ‘Religious pictures on sale beside a portrait of Barry McGuigan at the mart in Enniskillen’ (p.93). Between the picture of McGuigan and the Sacred Heart of Jesus there is one of what seems to be a crooked old tree in leaf or in blossom. It may well be one of the ‘religious pictures’ referred to in the caption. I was thinking of that picture while slowly leafing through Hokusai’s Fuji.
It is a beautiful, enchanting volume of space, colour and light to hold in one’s hands. A medieval Book of Hours for today.
I have never been to Japan and my knowledge of the country’s landscapes and seascapes is much influenced by visits to Ireland’s Japanese Gardens: Lafcadio Hearn Japanese Gardens in Tramore, and within the lands of the Irish National Stud at Tully. And my imagination can never fit Mount Fuji among any of Ireland’s mountain peaks – impossible. So that is why I treasure this book so much. When I open it, I’m a timeless Zen monk – not a page turner. To really smell the blossom of Hokusai’s trees, sense the wetness of the mosses, the whiteness of the snow and the majesty of Fuji one must sit still with this book - one page at each sitting. It is not a book to be put on a shelf - but on a cushion.
My first introduction to Katsushika Hokusai came as a shock. While looking at a print of his in a library on a cold winter’s day, many years ago, I heard a Cuckoo and got the smell of azaleas as I looked, enraptured. And the Cuckoo was flying with a swoosh and the flowers were growing. That print is missing from this book.
Being ‘anosmic’ I no longer smell or taste anything now. But the scent of Hokusai’s azaleas fragrant memory still and memories too of long past apple and cherry blossoms and tastes of the sea have been re-awakened by the beautiful prints in this publication. I treasure the touch of this new ‘book of hours’ - bringing me snow in spring and the promise of buds to blossom.