Lo Zen e la cultura giapponese

by D.T. Suzuki, Gino Scatasta (Translator)

«“Che cos’è lo Zen?” ... “Non capisco” rispose un maestro. “Che cos’è lo Zen?”. “Il ventaglio di seta basta a farmi aria” rispose un altro maestro. “Che cos’è lo Zen?”. “Lo Zen” rispose un terzo maestro». Memore di questo ineffabile scambio (mondō), Daisetz T. Suzuki, massima autorità giapponese nel campo del buddhismo zen, dà avvio nel 1936 a una serie di conferenze in Inghilterra e in America, cimentandosi nella non facile impresa di illustrare al mondo occidentale la più indecifrabile e sfuggente delle dottrine orientali. E due anni più tardi, dopo aver profondamente rielaborato e perfezionato i testi approntati allo scopo, consegna con questo libro le chiavi di accesso a una mirabile tradizione religiosa, senza la quale sarebbe inconcepibile gran parte della filosofia, dell’arte e della letteratura nipponiche. Fu infatti grazie alla pratica zen del satori – il risveglio o illuminazione – che ogni aspetto della vita giapponese assunse le forme misteriose di un’incessante ricerca del senso ultimo nascosto nell’esistente, di un’arte al servizio del potenziamento spirituale: la filosofia samuraica della spada, la cerimonia del tè, la pittura sumiye, il teatro Nō e lo haiku sono solo alcune delle vie attraverso cui lo Zen ci invita a una partecipazione etica ed estetica al mondo, percepito nella sua vacuità e impermanenza. Con uno stile in cui convergono lo spirito del monaco, del poeta e del divulgatore, Suzuki ridefinisce l’identità e l’evoluzione storica dello Zen – origini e influenze, scuole e maestri, princìpi e strumenti –, svelandoci quel vuoto originario in cui i grandi maestri seppero cogliere un barlume di eternità

«La dottrina dell'intuizione immediata è tipica dello Zen. Se i greci ci hanno insegnato a ragionare e i cristiani a credere, lo Zen ci insegna ad andare oltre la logica e a non indugiare neppure quando ci troviano di fronte "a ciò che non si vede". La prospet­tiva dello Zen è infatti quella di un punto di vista assoluto, nel quale non c'è spazio per il dualismo, qualunque forma assuma. La logica nasce dalla separazione fra soggetto e oggetto, la fede distingue ciò che viene vi­sto da ciò che non viene visto. Il modo di pensare degli occidentali non potrà mai eliminare questo eterno dilemma: questo o quello, ragione o fede, uomo o Dio e così via. Nello Zen tutto ciò viene cancellato perché confonde la nostra intuizione del­la natura, della vita e della realtà. Lo Zen ci conduce nel regno del Vuoto o della Va­cuità dove non domina alcun tipo di con­cettualismo, dove gli alberi crescono senza radici e una brezza salutare spazza via ogni impurità».

Genres: Japan, Philosophy, Zen, Nonfiction, Buddhism, Religion, Spirituality

396 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1938

About the author

Daisetsu Teitaro Suzuki (鈴木 大拙 貞太郎 Suzuki Daisetsu Teitarō; rendered "Daisetz" after 1893) was Professor of Buddhist philosophies at Ōtani University. As a translator and writer on Buddhism and Eastern philosophy, he greatly helped to popularize Japanese Zen in the West.

Reviews

[Smiley · Rating 3 out of 5]

First published in Japan in 1938 and later in the USA in 1959, this 478-page “Zen and Japanese Culture” by Professor Suzuki is still worth reading for those interested in the inception and impact by Zen on Japanese culture and identity. From its 11 chapters, it would elaborately inform us on this famous Buddhist cult generously supplemented by related ancient episodes, poems, characters, etc. in various key topics, for instance, Swordmanship, Haiku, Love of Nature, etc. Many scholars and readers, I think, have long since written and shared their learned reviews on this remarkable classic in books, journals and web pages; mine might be possibly repetitive. Therefore, I would present my review by means of three selected excerpts so that we can understand more on the topic in question.

Swordmanship

... The abbot's name was Ryuko; he belonged to the Soto sect of Zen and was a renowned master of the day. When Tesshin spoke to him regarding the enterprise, the abbot advised him against it, ... The young man, however, was obdurate against taking the advice kindly.
Ryuko continued: "Look at myself. I also wanted to be better known in the world. ... We each have to know where we are and be content with the situation."
This incensed Tesshin very much, so that he excitedly exclaimed: "Do you think my sword is of no worth? Swordsmanship is not like your discipline. ... Besides, I am firmly convinced of my attainment in swordsmanship. I am not afraid of any encounter which may turn up in my tour."
Ryuko could not help smiling at his self-conceit. "You had better start with the one who is right in front of you. If you come out victorious, you may undertake the grand tour throughout the whole country. In case, however, you lose, you must promise to become a monk and be my disciple."
At this Tesshin, laughing heartily, said, "You may be great in your Zen, but surely you are no swordsman. If you wish to try your luck, however, I am ready."
Ryuko gave him a bamboo stick that had been found nearby and then provided himself with a hossu. Tesshin, full of confidence, tried to knock the Zen master down with one blow of his stick. But the stick completely missed the opponent, who was no longer within reach. Tesshin was exasperated and tried again and again to reach him, but all to no purpose. Instead, he frequently felt the hossu gently sweeping over his face.
Ryuko finally remarked, "What would you say now?"
... (pp. 130-31)

Haiku

The predecessor of Basho was Saigyo (1118-90), of the Kamakura period. He was also a traveler-poet. After quitting his official career as a warrior attached to the court, he devoted his life to traveling and poetry. He was a Buddhist monk. Whoever has traveled through Japan must have seen the picture of a monk in his traveling suit, all alone, looking at Mount Fuji. …the picture suggests many thoughts, especially about the mysterious loneliness of human life, which is, however, not the feeling of forlornness, nor the passive sense of solitariness, but a source of appreciation of the mystery of the Absolute. The poem then composed by Saigyo runs:
The wind-blown
Smoke of Mount Fuji
Vanishing far away!
Who knows the destiny
Of my thought wafting with it!
… (p. 256)

Love of Nature

The famous Nirvana picture of the Tofukuji Zen monastery, at Kyoto, was painted by one of its monks, Cho Densu (1352-1431), one of the greatest painters of Japan. It is one of the largest hanging pictures of this class in Japan, measuring about 39 by 26 feet. ... When Cho Densu was engaged in this grand work, a cat used to visit him and sit by him watching the progress of the picture. The artist, who wanted ultramarine in mental form, playfully remarked, "If you are good enough to bring me the stuff I want, I will have your picture in this Nirvana." The cat had been generally missing, for some unknown reason, in Nirvana pictures executed until then. Hence Cho Densu's remark. And, miraculously enough, the following day the cat brought him the painting ingredient he wanted, besides, led him to the place where it could be found in abundance. The artist's delight was beyond measure, and to keep his word he painted the cat in his Nirvana picture, for which that cat has ever since had a nationwide reputation. ... (pp. 380-81)

In sum, this book may not be a page-turner; however it is still interestingly informative nowadays since we can start with any chapter we prefer, then we would find the author’s writing style appropriate to common readers for his narrations supplemented by 64+ black-and-white rare pictures with Japanese calligraphy belonging to that particular period. One more thing, I found his generous footnotes printed below innumerable pages helpful and delightful to read each topic and better understand.

[Knigoqdec · Rating 4 out of 5]

С изключение на няколко глави, в които авторът прекалено много се опитва да ни убеждава в неща, които някак си не изглеждат наистина така, както ги описва, книгата е много интересна и информативна. Харесвам най-вече частите с тълкуване на различни случаи, истории, приказки и така нататък, личните разсъждения на автора наистина могат да се слагат под въпрос, дори и без в предговора да съществуваше подобно "предупреждение".

[Иван Величков · Rating 5 out of 5]

Още с книжката "Увод в дзен-будизма", която излезе в началото на деведесетте, Судзуки ми се отвърди като единствения читав авторитет по въпроса. Тогава родният пазар, повлиян от излизането на книгите на Кастанеда, започна да се пълни с всякакъв американски ню ейдж изотеричен бълвоч и будизмът не беше пожален.
Дайсетцу Судзуки за сметка на това е съвсем друга бира. Тази книга, както и предноспоменатата, не е лесна за четене. Не дава някакви отгговори и най-вече не се опитва да "обясни" дзен на европейския акъл. Текстът е трудносмилаем, голяма част от съдържанието е взето от университетски лекции водени от д-р Судзуки.
Разделено на глави, обхващащи различни аспекти на японската култура от средновековието до днес, авторът ни показва как дзен е повлиял на цялостните бит и култура на Япония и обратното - как японският начин на живот е развил будизма.
Обхваща типично японски неща, или по-скоро приети от японците и развити до нещо с което се отъждествяват, като кендо, стрелба с лък, чайна церемония, хайку и култ към природата. Като показва връзката на всяко с дзен-будизма и как са си повлияли взаимно.
Текстът е изпълнен с исторически и културни препратки и определено е най-изчерпателното нещо, което съм чел по въпроса. Дали помага да се доближим до разбирането на култура толкова изосновно различна от родната? Не съм сигурен. Или поне разбирането, както го виждам, трябва да стане на едно интоитивно ниво, почти като дзен-сатори, защото всяко обяснение извращава истинността на "такъвото".

[Joshua Peters · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oddly, I feel like I really enjoyed this book, despite the fact that it was quite difficult to read and I’m still fairly confused about the role of Zen in Japanese culture. I suspect that Suzuki may have intended this as his goal doesn’t seem to be understanding but rather discussion. His explanation of Zen largely boils down to the fact that Zen cannot be explained as it is individual and must be experienced, therefore he gives many examples of Zen from Japanese history in the hopes that we catch a glance of its shape. This doesn’t provide a particularly satisfying literary structure, and he could use some serious editing, but it does keep the reader on their toes as you really have no idea what’s coming up next (plus his rambling style is somehow endearing). As to how all of these examples and mini-essays relate to Japanese culture, I’m not entirely sure. Suzuki’s main argument appears to be: “Many famous and revered Japanese through history were Zen-men, therefore Zen has shaped Japanese culture.” He complicates this by adding examples from pre-Zen writers who he considers to have a Zen spirit. On the whole I’d say he fails to draw clear links between Zen and specific aspects of Japanese culture, which one would expect from such a book; then again, since Zen apparently defies logic and rationalization, perhaps he succeeds perfectly.

PS - It took me a year to read this book 😳

[Hayden · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really enjoyed. It makes sense, but it doesn’t make sense. To no fault of Suzuki. It’s a book conceptualizing a way of thinking and being (or not thinking and being) that is against conceptualization. I think. Not quite sure. But I liked it. Really enjoyed reading about the zen connection to Haikus. That part made lots of sense and found super valuable in understanding the poetic form and tradition. Even though I still don’t “get” most of them. A result which Suzuki clearly attributes to me not being Japanese. Damn

[aryn]

p6: [...] we human beings cannot live without language, for we are so made that we can sustain our existence only in group life. Love is the essence of humanity, love needs something to bestow itself upon; human beings must live together in order to lead a life of love.

p10: Satori must be the outgrowth of one's inner life and not a verbal implantation brought from the outside.

p13: (Tenno Dogo) "If you want to see, see right at once. When you begin to think, you miss the point."

p23: To be poor, that is, not to be dependent on things worldly - wealth, power, and reputation - and yet to feel inwardly the presence of something of the highest value, above time and social position: this is what essentially constitutes wabi.

p23-24: Life itself is simple enough, but when it is surveyed by the analyzing intellect it presents unparalleled intricacies.

p24: Very likely, the most characteristic thing in the temperament of the Eastern people is the ability to grasp life from within and not from without.

p25: The idea of aloneness belongs to the East and is at home in the environment of its birth.

p32: When we see the moon, we know that it is the moon, and that's enough. Those who proceed to analyze the experience and try to establish a theory of knowledge are not students of Zen. They cease to be so, if they ever were, at the very moment of their procedure as analysts. Zen always upholds its experience as such and refuses to commit itself to any system of philosophy.

p50: But as a social being man cannot remain content with mere experience; he wants to communicate it to his fellow beings - which means that intuition is to have its contents, its ideas, its intellectual reconstruction.

[Vu Thien · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tại sao đến tận bây giờ mới đọc cuốn này ? Tại sao?

[Zmassi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Caro (futuro) lettore,

per tua conoscenza, la consuetudine nipponica, proveniente da gruppi di cinesi, scopre verità.
E tu sei pronto?

[Craig · Rating 5 out of 5]

D.T. Suzuki is definitive of writing on Zen, so if you want to know about it on a conceptual level (not that that's possible), then Suzuki's the man. This book in particular is good to read if you want to understand Japanese culture as well.

[Michaelo El Grando · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very informative and exciting read. Recommending this to anyone who wants to expand their knowledge of Japanese history and what shaped the country's culture. The author explains the essence of Zen Buddhism very well in my opinion.

[Jack · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lots of thoughts. Review to follow.

[Peter Allum · Rating 3 out of 5]

Overly long and repetitive, but with some appealing Zen-related anecdotes and poetry.

Suzuki writes with great elegance and with enormous authority and perceptiveness about Zen, philosophy, and culture. That said, this is a slog to read, absurdly repetitive, long-winded, and padded with extensive extracts from other authors.

Moreover, this is not a comprehensive assessment of the influence of Zen on Japanese culture, but rather a study of four specific areas: Samurai culture and swordsmanship, poetry (haiku), the tea ceremony, and the appreciation of nature.

The analysis is also very much historically focused and may not be relevant for Japanese culture today. Indeed, the first edition of this volume was published in 1939, and even then looked back primarily at Zen’s influence on pre-modern Japan.

Does Samurai culture and swordsmanship merit nearly half of this 400-page book? It gives the volume a historical rather than contemporary focus, given that the carrying of swords was banned in the 1870s. There is so much repetition in this section that I started to skim through the pages. With much tighter editing and significant cuts, this could have been very informative, but its duplication is overwhelming and the main points are lost in the details.

The discussion of Zen and Haiku is another thing altogether: some excellent examples of haiku, perceptive commentary on how they reflect a Zen sensibility, quite contrary to the Western approach to poetry. For anyone interested in haiku, this chapter is invaluable.

With Zen and the Art of Tea, we are back to the earlier duplication - three chapters that repeat various points; the more than 50 pages could have been cut by at least half. Moreover, concluding this section, we find it again to be a backward-looking perspective on Zen and Japanese culture. Suzuki admits that: ”The art of tea in these modern days may not transmit exactly the spirit that animated its earlier masters, and there may not be so much of Zen in it as in the day of Rikyu (1529-91).”

The discussion of Love of Nature has some interesting aspects but, in truth, is only loosely related to the presence in Japan of Zen Buddhism. Suzuki makes considerable use here of Japanese nature poetry from centuries past.

Overall, a bloated, repetitive work but with many interesting Zen-related anecdotes and short poems. Not a focused work of writing but rather an accumulation of materials stitched loosely together. Hard to recommend.

[Fab. Tummi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Partendo dall'impossibilità di definire il concetto di zen, Suzuki si cimenta nell'arduo compito di creare un libro che sia quanto più possibile approfondito e, al tempo stesso, comprensibile anche a noi occidentali.

Nel farlo, decide di declinare lo zen collegandolo ad aspetti fondamentali della cultura giapponese: ottimi i capitoli dedicati all'arte della spada e alla natura, molto più ostico quello dedicato agli haiku.

È un libro nel complesso molto impegnativo, non per demeriti dell'autore - che, anzi, sceglie una struttura molto "quadrata", venendo incontro alla sensibilità occidentale - ma per la difficoltà del tema e per la barriera culturale che divide Oriente e Occidente.
Richiede una certa dose di buona volontà ma riesce a restituire una grande profondità, di spirito e mente.

[Gally · Rating 4 out of 5]

Essays exploring zen elements and influences in Japanese swordsmanship, tea ceremony, and poetry.
Not so much of a practical guide, but generally a thorough, academic work that remains an engaging read despite its age.

[Wendy Yang · Rating 4 out of 5]

I do enjoy reading Suzuki's translation and interpretation :) Well there's not a lot that can be said to convey the whole "idea" of Zen, but the anecdotes are fun to read and it is a nice tonic to have everyday

[Andrea Giovanni Rossi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lontano dai futuri stereotipi occidentali che avrebbero finito per banalizzarlo, lo Zen permea la cultura giapponese attraverso una profonda armonia con il momento presente, senza alcuna mediazione filosofica di sorta

[Yazdanpanah Askari · Rating 1 out of 5]

Procrustes
پروکروُستی
غولی است در اساطیرِ یونان، که تختِ خواب های آهنین داشت و اسیرانش را اگر کوتاه بودند، می کشید
.و اگر بلند بودند، کوتاه می کرد تا اندازه ی آن تختِ خواب شوند
«تختِ خواب پروکروُستی»
.به هر معیار خود ساخته یی اطلاق می شود که انطباقِ با آن اجباری باشد
ذن و فرهنگ ژاپنی ، د. ت. سوزوكی، برگردان ع. پاشايی – تهران : ميترا 1378 - ص 180

یزدانپناه عسکری: معیار خود ساخته = فهرست انسانی
***
.شوُونیَتا (تهیت - دل بی دلی) ، پیوند تنگاتنگی با مسأله ی مرگ و زندگی (زنده گی) دارد ، که اکثر ِ ما امروزه چندان توجهی به آن نمی کنیم
ذن و فرهنگ ژاپنی ، د. ت. سوزوكی، برگردان ع. پاشايی – تهران : ميترا 1378 - ص 154

AP یزدانپناه عسکری: شوُونیَتا (تهیت - دل بی دلی) = سیالیت

. . .

[Jay Forque · Rating 5 out of 5]

"One of the most beautiful books ever writen about Zen."

This is definitely one of the best pieces of art that have arrived in my hands. Absolutely no doubt on me when I say this.

There is a lot of things to talk about, but especially the Way, — the way the author explores the concepts of Zen and the whole philosophy of it is revealed in a beautiful, direct, unique form.

I thought I knew better about Zen than what I know now;
at the same time, now I know I do not know.

And that's perfect.

Zen and Japanese Culture is a masterpiece — something you definitely want to read to absorb the eastern perspective and understanding of Universal Existence (especially if you are from the West).

«Mushin», «Myo», «Suki», «Zentai Sayu» and many other relevant concepts are explained with really detailed but at the same time really simple examples.

"Zen & The Swordsmanship", "Zen & Nature", "Zen and The Art of Tea"... each chapter is beautiful in its own way, adding colour and fullfilling the whole sphere Suzuki is being able to paint — without actually trying to paint it.

Also, as a special gift and non-valuable treasure, you can find some of the original words and dialogues between ancient zen masters, which Suzuki researched and perfectly immortalized, plus the majestic detail of adding his personal opinions and comments about them.

This book is an endless source of Wisdom.

To be honest, this is the only book that has reached the same level for me as the best book ever written in my opinion — Musashi's «Go Rin No Sho».

I could go all-in into the details, but it's too much.
No way to capture its essence by words.
I guess that's part of Zen too.

But if you are reading this, trust me.

Go for it.
Get this book.

Thank me later.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

D.T. Suzuki was easily one of the world's foremost historians on Zen Buddhism. Several years ago I listened to an audiobook of the chapter called "Zen and the Samurai". It was only recently I discovered that was part of this entire volume.

This book is certainly a scholarly work, and probably best suited to those with some background in Buddhism or Japanese culture. But like all of Suzuki's writing, the tone is approachable and human. I found the chapters on haiku particularly enlightening. Suzuki explains the foundations of the art form in a way that helps a westerner more fully appreciate it (although I suspect to completely appreciate it one needs to read older haiku in their native Japanese). Haiku is not something to be intellectualized. In essence, it is meant to be a direct translation of a visceral experience into a verbal form.

It was particularly interesting to read this book on the heels of finishing Charlotte Joko Beck's Everyday Zen: Love and Work. The two certainly represent the contrast between Suzuki's traditional Eastern Zen, and Joko Beck's modern, more pragmatic Western Zen. Together they are a brilliant example of how the same fundamental truths can be expressed through different lenses.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention a hint of ethnocentrism that runs through the book. Western concepts and ideals are often slighted in favor of their Japanese counterparts. I admit I may be reading it as such because I am a Westerner myself. The irony of course is that many of the Western ideals Suzuki downplays have now become engrained in modern Japan, perhaps to even more of an extreme than in the west. There is a beauty to the way of thought Suzuki describes in this book, and the tragedy may be that it is slowly disappearing. But perhaps not, one can hardly deny that there still exists differences in Eastern and Western thought. Perhaps Eastern thought is still grounded in the fundamentals Suzuki explains, it has just evolved.

[Justin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I came to this work because Suzuki's writings on Zen and Shin, particularly within a Japanese cultural context and understanding, have been universally lauded, and I had to get my friends from Japan off of my back. I've had exchange students and Japanese ex-pats tell me time and time again that, in terms of understanding traditional spirituality and it's mingling with Buddhism in Japan, Suzuki is the author to go to.

Suzuki takes the time to delve into the actual spiritual practices that make up Zen Buddhism, and how they relate to cultural practices and traditions that deeply embedded in Japanese identity. There are a few chapter on Zen and it's role within the samurai class and subculture, including swordsmanship. Other chapters delve into zen's continuing role in shaping customs that continue into Japan today (Suzuki's book was written in the late 30s).

I knew of some of the nationalist leanings that Suzuki held, and although there are instances throughout that exemplify those leanings, the work itself was incredibly focused on presenting Zen spirituality in it's cultural contextualization. Suzuki went on to correspond with many Western thinkers, including Thomas Merton, so obviously his nationalism wasn't raging. I look forward to reading more Suzuki in the future - this was great starting point.

[Joshua Kuebler · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dr Suzuki is the original and as yet unrivaled writer on Zen. This book is an excellent introduction to the subject and author.

[Khoa Trần · Rating 5 out of 5]

Về thiết kế, trình bày sách: Cuốn này bản tiếng việt bìa làm đẹp hơn, cách trình bày, thiết kế trang sách ứng dụng cái “không” của thiền. Rất đẹp và tinh tế.

Về Nội dung: để nắm bắt trọn vẹn thì mình khuyên các bạn nên lên youtube xem giảng giải bát nhã tâm kinh trước khi đọc cuốn này vì Thiền và Phật giáo Đại Thừa có liên quan mật thiết với nhau. Cuốn sách này có thể cứu rỗi linh hồn bạn (save your soul) tuy nhiên do chúng ta là những con người vô minh, dùng trí óc để hiểu vấn đề của Thiền mà điều này lại đi ngược lại hoàn toàn những gì Thiền dạy do đó nếu so với những người khác về mặt luận lí chúng ta có thể hơn họ nhưng bản tâm chúng ta thật vẫn còn giống họ khá nhiều vì vẫn còn lớp bụi phủ lên nó.

Bản thân con người là những sinh vật vị kỷ, do vậy có những chuyện miệng thì nói buông nhưng trong lòng lại chẳng như vậy do tâm còn chấp ngã.
For my sad stories.

[Nash · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anyone interested in Zen shouldn't miss this book. Well, I think it should be a starter, even. I prefer this book rather than "Introduction to Zen Buddhism," also by the same author. May be because it gives many real-life examples into Japanese culture that I can easily picture along because I can relate to. And it also contains many quotes of samurai in the past. Read it even if you don't really want to know about Zen. It could make you a more understanding person in general simply because you know why this is this and that is that. Even if you're not in a mood to read, just hold this very thick book in your hand and look at the front cover's photo and meditate on it. It instantly gives you peace of mind! :-)

[Ben Smitthimedhin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book took me soooo long to finish. A couple of dry sections here and there, but it helped me understand Zen Buddhism in a way that I never understood it before. Examples of Japanese and Chinese literature abound. Suzuki is clearly well-read in the Zen tradition, and the illustrations and explanations were helpful in understanding how Zen relates to Rikyu's tea ceremony, swordsmanship, Confucianism, nature, Haiku etc.

I did enjoy Suzuki's writing style a lot; With a topic as dense as Zen Buddhism, Suzuki never made me feel stupid at all. He knows he is writing to beginners who have no understanding of Zen, and so the book was not hard to follow.

[Aki Ranin · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was referred to this book by Alan Watts in his Way of Zen, to enrich the picture of Zen. Having always been attracted to the mysterious paradoxical Samurai, as examples of supreme calm and violence, the sections on sword fighting were especially amazing to read. It goes on at length into many aspects and nuances of Japanese culture, which can be entertaining if curious coming in.

[Reid · Rating 5 out of 5]

A Classic!

[Joshua Knight · Rating 4 out of 5]

Let me riff a little on Suzuki’s large volume on Zen and Japanese culture and how it converges with my idea of things—my layman’s understandings. I’ll also share how it can help me live my life, and maybe you too. The following are thoughts stirred by this book.

…

A samurai master was to have “no mind”, no ‘I”, no “opponent”, no “sword”. An early Buddhist idea which continues throughout all branches of modern day Buddhism is that of “no-self”. But how so, this “no-self”? Every thing is constructed of parts; nothing exists in and of itself. This seems to fit a modern scientific understanding of things. It’s true going down into atoms and then further into quantum mechanics. Nothing has being in and of itself.

Hence, we have the related Buddhist concept of dependent origination. Every so called entity depends on other things for its apparent existence. A final point about this “non-self” and “dependent origination”: there’s a sense in which these constructed “entities” are illusory. That depends on what we mean by the word, but it’s enough to help us understand how Zen comes to teach the samurais that when they fight they must forget all notions of entities within a conflict.

At that moment, the mind avoids mental constructs, so allowing a natural flow. But clearly the sword fighter has first learned the art. In the modern world we would have ideas of at least 10 000 hours of practise, as Malcolm Gladwell tells us in his famous book Outliers. It reminds me too of the Taoist notion of wu wei—non-action—which is a relaxed, effortless way of living and acting.

Zhuangzi, one of the most famous expounders of early Taoist thought, wrote of a chef who cuts an ox effortless, without blunting his knife. He has learned the craft so well that he knows the joints, the sinews, the way to move the blade without forcefulness. It’s a “wu wei” kind of flowing action. The samurais were to wield a sword with the merging of these Buddhist and Taoist ideas absorbed into their being.

For me, this sense of “no mind’ and just doing lasted about three days once I was back at work. Previously, I’d been on holiday in Japan, where I bought this book. It was easier then to be all philosophical. Still, the book has put something in me which I can try to find again when the tasks begin to clear. It takes a lifetime of practice, no doubt, but maybe I will get better at this Zen-mind stuff.

I was stirred too by the idea that the master samurais, those guided by a Zen approach, were to commit to battle with the assumption of meeting death. Suzuki explains how some were taught that they should assume that both they and their opponent would die in a fight. To neither desire life or death is an escape from the constant turmoil within the mind, the emotional ups-and-downs. It’s to not care what others think of us, how we stand in the clan, or in society. It’s to not mind if our name is carried on in the form of offspring.

There is nothing to gain or lose, only this moment, the swinging action of the sword, the movement of my fingers on these keys of my laptop, the asking of the young man in my class to comment on the significance of a particular metaphor. To commit to dying is to commit to life too. It’s to not let fear keep us in chains. It’s to live now. Zen swordsmanship is a helpful metaphor.

If I’m forced to comment more carefully, I’ll confess that to me Buddhism’s negation of desire is a negation of life. It’s a sad thing to lose this beautiful thing, these fleeting moments of up-and-down emotions. Buddhism teaches an escape from the suffering of this world, but when in the past I’ve tried to ignore desire, I’ve sometimes encountered depression.

But Zen Buddhism doesn’t seem to negate all desire. There’s a certain aesthetic to things which seems to be an expression of a desire for an austere beauty. Conversely, from my studies mostly of Theravada Buddhism—that which probably most closely resembles early Buddhist beliefs and is practised now in Sri Lanka, Thailand, Myanmar, and other mostly Southeast Asian countries—the idea of taking up the sword, not to mention finding pleasure in the aesthetics of Zen gardens, tea ceremonies, and nature is antithetical to the end of desires. At least, it seems so to me.

Suzuki’s book confirms to me the strong element of Taoism in Zen: the love of nature; simplicity; effortless living; authenticity; the nowness of things and a intuitive mode of living.

[Laurens Trommel · Rating 3 out of 5]

A bit too long and somewhat repetitive, but there are some interesting quotes to ponder.

"While art is art and has its own significance, the Japanese make use of it by turning it into an opportunity for their spiritual enhancement. And this consists in advancing toward the realization of Tao, or Heavenly Reason of the universe, or Heavenly Nature in man, or the emptiness or suchness of things."

"A haiku does not express ideas but puts forward images reflecting intuitions."

"In the well not dug,
In the water not filling it,
A shadow is reflected;
And a man with no form, no shadow,
is drawing water from the well."

"Zen first of all combats the intellect; for, in spite of its practical usefulness, the intellect goes against our effort to delve into the depths of being."

"Environment has a great deal to do with the molding of a man's character and temperament, but he is also the molder and even the creator of his environment, for man is at once creature and creator."

"The Japanese are great in changing philosophy into art, abstract reasoning into life, transcendentalism into empirical immanentism."

"The sun is the great benefactor of all life on earth, and it is only proper for us human beings to approach a benefactor of any kind, animate or inanimate, with a deep feeling of gratitude and appreciation."

"The epistomology of Zen is not to restort to the mediumship of concepts. For while you are doing this, the object you have been seeking is no longer there. The clearing away of all conceptual scaffolds is imperative."

"If nature is to be loved, it must be caught while moving."

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not the good option to read for beginners in zen buddhism philosophy, but alluring option for people who already "practice" zen in daily life. Especially, I'd consider this book as a must-read for artists interested in Eastern cultures and their influence in modern art. I found this book when I was searching for Suzuki's books and eventually chose this one from my temptation to find out more about samurais and what is the philosophy behind this culture. Life of a samurai taught me not only what is behind it, but what is meditation and how it should be "properly done". Going further, I did not only understand that what I thought of as violence is actually peace, but what I thought is peace is actually a beautiful chaos of eternal movement. Some parts of the book refer to Chinese Confucianist culture influence on Japanese zen and how a secluded land of Japan developed its "own version" of buddhism by combining Indian and Chinese buddhism. Again, what I write here is a super-generalization of what is in the book. The book also mentions the buddhists gods and what they represent. The last chapters are elaborating upon the Japanese love of nature and its symbolization on Japanese poems.

[Montserrat Cervantes · Rating 2 out of 5]

Me quedé en la página 60 de 522 y no quise continuar la lectura.

No me gustó para nada, creo que se destaca el mensaje un poco implícito que quiere transmitir sobre la importancia de menos pensar y más hacer, dejar de cuestionarnos lo incuestionable, apreciar más la naturaleza y ser menos artificiales.

Pero me parece que el autor le da muchas vueltas a lo mismo y aburre. Además, de que dice las cosas como si fuera la verdad absoluta, y que desprecia a todo lo que no sea de su misma corriente zen japonesa.

Los tales "maestros" en las historias que menciona el autor suelen ser muy agresivos con sus aprendices, hablándoles con palabras de desprecio como si fueran tontamente inferiores. A mí consideración, una persona no puede ser tan espiritual si eso implica desestimar a otros humanos sólo porque tienen menos conocimientos debido a su joven vida.

Estaba muy entusiasmada con leer el libro, pero esperaba algo más espiritual e inclusivo, todo desde un punto de vista en el que los seres humanos somos iguales tenemos el mismo valor y derechos, además de que interactuemos en armonía con los demás elementos de la naturaleza. Pero esta introducción del libro no reflejó dichos ideales.