Japanese poetry is well-known for its clarity and concision, and The Narrow Road to the Interior and H?j?ki are two of the best-loved, and most intensely Japanese, works of their kind; famous for their beautiful, delicate verse and subtle insight into the human condition. It has been said of The Narrow Road that it was as if the very soul of Japan had itself written it. It takes the form of a travel diary, and traces the poets journey from Edo (modern-day Tokyo) to the northern interior. H?j?ki, a much earlier work written by Ch?mei, a Buddhist hermit, is essentially a meditation on the transience of the world. Read by the famous classical Japanese actor Togo Igawa, the full beauty of its ancient cadences and rhythms is drawn out.
Known Japanese poet Matsuo Basho composed haiku, infused with the spirit of Zen.
The renowned Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉) during his lifetime of the period of Edo worked in the collaborative haikai no renga form; people today recognize this most famous brief and clear master.
I am not sure if this story would be better in print or better if I had a printed copy to see as I listened along. I listened to the stories several times over. The narrator that did the Hojoki stories was much easier to understand.
The narrator for the lead piece, The Narrow Road to the Interior was a little hard to understand. There was a lot of Japanese spoken (I did not understand - but it sounded cool). The travel log, itself seems interesting, but hard to picture and it simply a list of places that they went, when they were built and by whom.
An interesting listening experience because I liked the picture on the cover.
The Narrow Road to the Interior provides a beautiful journey of an influential Japanese poet, Matsuo Basho and his companion. Along his journey, he visits all the sights he has read about in prose and poetry by other Influential Japanese writers, paying homage to them by writing poetry at the same spots and often naming them in the documentation of his travels.
This is a tough one to rate because there are so many separate parts.
Hojoki focuses on the hardships and the brevity of life. The first half of the book is a description of disasters that the author has witnessed or heard of: earthquakes, fires, plagues, etc. The second half discusses the writer's life in a small, solitary hut in the mountains. It's worth reading, but it isn't exactly uplifting. I give it 3.5 stars.
By comparison, The Narrow Road to the Deep North feels remarkably optimistic. In Matsuo Bashō's eyes, 17th century Japan is a lovely, peaceful place populated by friendly, cultured people. Every rock, tree, and pool has a story, and Bashō seems to know them all (without the help of Google or tripadvisor). Inhospitality and discomfort exist, but they are anomalies. It's a pleasant, easy read. I give this one 5 stars.
As for the audiobook narrators, the man who narrates Hojoki is very good. He has a pleasant voice and is easy to understand. The narrator for Narrow Road, on the other hand, had a much thicker accent and was more difficult to understand. I ended up reading the book as a pdf I found online because it was easier.
Haiku master Matsuo Bashō traces life’s journey in prose and Haiku in “Narrow Road to the Interior.” Writing much earlier, Kano no Chomei writes of the fragility of life in “Hōjōki.” Both are very beautiful.
I came across this book when Googling "The Narrow Road to the Interior," a book of poems by Kimiko Hahn - that Merle loaned me over the weekend. This one looked fascinating! Except MCPL doesn't have a physical copy and the Kindle sample I skimmed was all translator's notes / introduction (boring). I wanted to LOOK at the interplay b/t prose and haiku. Instead I listened to this audiobook. Not sure how much I took from it - there's SO. MUCH. unfamiliar terrain (literal and metaphoric) but what I *did* understand was a travelogue told thru multiple mediums (poetry + prose intermingled). I like that freedom and juxtaposition... And was thinking abt the Mali trip over Xmas/NY 2005-6 while listening. Could I tell that story? In poems? And short essays? What would that be like?
The first part of the audiobook was a story by someone else. It wasn't especially interesting. Lots of, "I'm an old man; let me reflect w/ austere old-man 'wisdom' on the nature of life." Very cliche IMO. I liked Basho's story tho. It was far more engaging (less cliche - and interesting things happened!). I wish I'd listened while looking at a map.
Came for the Basho, but got Chomei too--an author with whom I was not familiar but whose acquaintance I was very happy to make. This edition is a bit confusing because it begins with Hojoki while the title implies it would come after Narrow Road. Moreover, both pieces begin in Japanese before switching to English, leaving me scrambling to check if I had inadvertently checked out the wrong version. The haiku were read in Japanese first, then English second. I don't know any Japanese but always think that is a great way to do poetry in translation.
Both texts were nice reminders to let go of what I believe I should be and do.
I read Hojoki on a day I was feeling particularly listless. Reading this I was washed over with a deep feeling of peace much like how watercolor paper is washed over in fat, saturated strokes. I think this is what Jay Shetty wanted to teach us, but he got a little lost along the way.
Narrow Road to the Interior has been on my tbr for maybe a million years. I was a little disappointed but that's because I had built it up in my head to be some profound, enlightening source of truth. It was mostly just a travel diary. An introspective one sprinkled with nice poetry and haikus, but still just a diary. I came to enjoy this towards the end of it.
(Year of Epic Reads Weekly Challenge #8: Read a book about something you want to do)
I would love to travel on foot through the countryside of Japan. This edition of the audiobook is 2 hours and 5 minutes long, and features also the short Hojoki, a work by a Buddhist hermit named Kamo no Chomei. Each piece is read by a different Japanese narrator, and all the poetry is read in both Japanese in English, while the prose is read in English only. The effect is very immersive, due to the authenticity of the spoken Japanese. Of the two, Hojoki was my favorite. It features Buddhist philosophy at its plainest and most practical, directly applied to daily life. It describes horrible destruction as well, and even the translation could pick up the author's pain at putting those words to paper. Meanwhile, Oku no Hosomichi is more lighthearted. The journey has its ups and downs, but poetry and beauty is what matters to the writer. It is a great book to listen to while outside, admiring nature. I was pleased to pick up this short book, as it felt every bit as satisfying as long novel.