The Circle of the Way

by Barbara O'Brien

A comprehensive, accessible guide to the fascinating history of Zen Buddhism--including important figures, schools, foundational texts, practices, and politics.

Zen Buddhism has a storied history--Bodhidharma sitting in meditation in a cave for nine years; a would-be disciple cutting off his own arm to get the master's attention; the proliferating schools and intense Dharma combat of the Tang and Song Dynasties; Zen nuns and laypeople holding their own against patriarchal lineages; the appearance of new masters in the Zen schools of Korea, Japan, Vietnam, and later the Western world. In The Circle of the Way , Zen practitioner and popular religion writer Barbara O'Brien brings clarity to this huge swath of history by charting a middle way between Zen's traditional lore and the findings of modern historical scholarship. In a clear and often funny style, O'Brien parses fact from fiction while always attending to the greatest interest of contemporary practitioners--the development of Zen doctrine and practice as a living tradition across cultures and centuries.

Genres: Buddhism, Zen, History, Nonfiction, Spirituality

Unknown Binding

About the author

Barbara Hoetsu O'Brien grew up in the Ozark Mountain section of the Bible Belt, also called the Land of Perpetual Holy Spirit Gospel Tabernacle Revivals. Doubts pulled her away from Christianity, however, and after much stumbling around in many traditions she became a formal student of Zen Buddhism in the late 1980s. As a journalist she has written extensively about religion in America and how it impacts politics and culture. From 2008 to 2016 she was the resident expert on Buddhism for About.com, and she blogs about whatever is on her mind at her personal blog, The Mahablog (mahablog.com).

Reviews

[Seth · Rating 5 out of 5]

Barbara O’Brien’s The Circle of the Way: A Concise History of Zen from the Buddha to the Modern World (Shambhala, 2020) is, I believe, the first English-language history of Zen to be published since Heinrich Dumoulin’s two-volume Zen Buddhism: A History was translated from the German two decades ago. A lot has happened since then, including a continuing explosion of interest in Zen in the West, new scholarly research into Zen’s origins, revelations about Zen’s role in collaborating with Japanese militarism, a series of sex abuse scandals involving teachers in American Zen centers, and sociopolitical critiques of Buddhist institutions from millennials, feminists, the LGBTQ community, and people of color. Dumoulin’s densely written history, for all its virtues, was never an easy read for the non-scholar, and was also a Zen history as seen from a Jesuit perspective. The Zen world has needed a new history that includes new developments, and one that is written for the benefit of practitioners rather than academics.

O’Brien’s new volume has a lot to offer that the older volume did and could not. First, it is written in a highly personal conversational style that Zen practitioners will find a pleasure to read. Second, it incorporates much of the newer critical Zen scholarship. Third, it emphasizes aspects of Zen history previously hidden from view, especially the role of women in Zen. Fourth, it is written by an author who understands and appreciates the value of Zen practice from personal experience.

At just under 300 pages, the book does not aim at being truly comprehensive. O’Brien takes us on a tour of the highlights of the evolution of Zen—the major figures and major doctrinal disputes—as well as the historical context (invasions, civil wars, dynastic changes) in which these events occurred in Asia and the West. We get to meet host of colorful characters who played major roles in Zen history—including Chinese Tang Dynasty teachers like Zhaozhou, Linji, and Dongshan; Chinese Song Dynasty teachers like Hongzhi and Dahui; Japanese innovators like Dogen and Hakuin; and twentieth-century Western pioneers like Alan Watts, Ruth Fuller, and Robert Aitken. Her book covers the history of Asian Zen not only in India, China, and Japan, but also Korea and Viet Nam.

O’Brien’s range of knowledge is impressive, and her grasp of the overall evolution of Zen secure. Her emphasis is in providing a coherent history rather than getting into the weeds of negotiating fine details of doctrine. Thus she summarizes Yogacara in just under three pages, while Huayan doesn’t even merit its own subheading, although it’s alluded to here and there. She has less to say about the major changes in Zen during the Meiji Restoration than I would have liked. But that’s all right; there is only so much one book can do.

I am impressed by how much O’Brien gets right; She has done her research, and it shows. Beyond her erudition, I was struck by O’Brien’s common sense and ready wit as she threaded her way through a number of knotty scholastic disputes. She walks a fine line between accepting the value of contemporary academic critiques while still finding value in the old stories being critiqued. For example, when we read the alleged Tang Dynasty Zen teacher-student dialogues as recounted in the Song Dynasty literature, how much does it matter whether these are historically accurate conversations or accounts of actual events? Sophisticated Judeo-Christians understand this when it comes to the Judeo-Christian tradition. It makes little difference to them whether the Biblical character of Job actually existed. The story of Job retains its meaning for moderns whether it is an historically accurate recounting of real events or not. The same is true of the Zen tradition. In fact, in some ways it might even be comforting to think that Huike didn’t really cut his arm off, or that Nansen didn’t really kill that cat, or that many of the nose tweaking and fly whisk hitting antics described in the Lamp literature may never have actually occurred. The most important question is, do these stories still resonate with us today, do they still have wisdom to disclose, and do they still foster insight? O’Brien argues that they do, and we should be careful not to throw out the baby with the bath water.

O’Brien understands the things Zen got and still gets wrong. She doesn’t whitewash Zen’s collaboration with the Japanese military during World War II. She understands the problems of historical and enduring bias against women and the disheartening abuse of women practitioners by some historically important Zen figures. But she also understands and appreciates the value of what she has gained from her Zen practice and what Zen has to offer the West. It’s that kind of clear-eyed non-defensive wisdom that Zen tries to instill in its practitioners, and it’s that kind of wisdom that is on display from cover to cover in this book.

[Malik Salam · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent history of and intro to zen. What I liked most was the simple presentation of difficult concepts in Mahayana Buddhism in their historical context and in relationship with each other. The second part of the book starting with developments of Zen in Japan felt more abrupt since there is clear a lot more to say but the author is trying to remain concise. It was still wholly enjoyable and very informative.

[Stan · Rating 4 out of 5]

For those involved in Zen or even other kinds of meditative practice, this book gives a helpful historical overview of the development of Zen. No really a book on doctrine, it highlights important figures and historical trends which affected meditation as a common religious practice. This is NOT an introduction to Zen or to Buddhism, but rather background information for those already interested in or involved with Zen. The writing is pleasant and clear, and it is an easy read. Nothing particularly stands out, but it is a good reference to have in one's library, after an initial read of a few hours.

[Kenny · Rating 5 out of 5]

"In the twentieth century, Western Zen aficionados such as Alan Watts promoted the notion that Zen was at least as much Daoist as Buddhist, if not more so. Today the Zen-Is-Daoism theory pervades many Western views of both Daoism and Zen. But more recently, some knowledgeable people have concluded that the influence of Daoism upon Zen has been exaggerated and that the similarities are more about style than substance. I believe this view is the more accurate one."

"The establishment of the Chinese bhikshuni sangha—the order of nuns—was a significant development in Chinese culture that is often overlooked. It gave women the option to live a life other than that of a wife or servant. For some, it opened a door to a life of scholarship that before had been for men only. Many nuns came to be widely known for their mastery of Chinese classics as well as of Buddhist scriptures."

"At one point, records say, the Sui general Wang Shichong made the mistake of occupying property belonging to the Shaolin Temple. Kung fu monks joined the rebellion and defeated the general, thereby retaining title to the temple’s property. This bit of history was commemorated in the 1982 martial arts film Shaolin Temple, starring Jet Li."

"One of Bodhidharma’s four practices is accepting that we are ruled by conditions and not by ourselves. This applies to everyone, including Zen teachers and emperors. And like all phenomena—a thing of many component parts with no self-essence—Zen is shaped by the culture and conditions in which it functions"

"Legends say that Niutou was a great friend to animals. When he first came to Mount Niutou, birds brought him flowers. After he realized enlightenment, however, they stopped, because there was no longer anything about him to distinguish him as “special.” This little fable illustrates Niutou’s teaching. The Oxhead school held that the mind of enlightenment is “no mind,” clear of views and distinctions."

"Victor Sogen Hori, a Zen priest and professor at the McGill School of Religious Studies, makes a strong case that this [koan] dialogue style arose from popular Chinese literary games. Part of the fun of the games was the use of allusion—speaking of something without mentioning it directly—to confound the other players. “And part of the skill of a good player was the ability to recognize the hidden meaning of the other person’s allusions and by ‘turning the spear around’ thrust back using a similar allusion with some other hidden meaning,” writes Sogen Hori."

"In about 1193, Bihar was invaded by a Turkic army led by a general named Muhammad Bakhtiyar Khilji... When the general learned of a great library nearby, he sent a messenger to Nalanda to inquire if the library contained a copy of the Quran. When told it did not, he ordered the entire complex to be destroyed. It was, and everyone found at Nalanda was slaughtered. The library at Nalanda was the largest repository of Buddhist chronicles, scriptures, and other texts in the world. No doubt many records and other documents were stored there that had never been copied. Burning it all took several months."

"In the fourteenth century one of the surviving Ashoka pillars, its script unreadable and its origins forgotten, was used to support a minaret near Delhi."

"Affairs in the land of Wa were pulled this way and that by powerful clans. The Soga clan, known to have many contacts on the continent, supported the new religion. Others, notably the more insular Mononobe clan, feared their indigenous gods would be angered by veneration of a foreigner. Unsure of what to do, Kinmei asked the Soga to take the statue and worship it themselves, to see what happened. Unfortunately, a plague broke out, and Kinmei had the statue tossed into a canal.

Of course, this was not the end of Buddhism in Japan. The Soga clan still had a lot of pull in the court and continued to promote Buddhism. In 584 Soga aristocrats sponsored the first monastic ordinations in Japan, which happened to be of three nuns. The novice ordinations were conducted by a Korean monk and nun in compliance with the Vinaya. It’s recorded that the first Japanese monastic was an eleven-year-old girl whose dharma name was Zenshin."

"What we know of the very early culture of the people of Japan suggests that it was much less patriarchal than it came to be later. There are many ancient tales of women leaders and warriors, and as we’ve seen, the first Buddhist ordinations in Japan were given to women. Nevertheless, nyonin kinsei—“no admittance to women”—came to be a widespread sentiment in Heian-period Buddhism.

Nuns were barred from participating in public ceremonies and were not allowed to enter most areas of men’s monasteries, even just to take part in ceremonies. Women were considered “unclean” and incapable of realizing enlightenment. It’s not clear where nyonin kinsei originated—one suspects the influence of Confucianism—but it spread to Shinto and to other parts of Japanese culture."

"The original sohei probably were mercenaries hired to protect temples. Soon enough they began to live as monks when they weren’t fighting. They shaved their heads, wore monk robes, and abided by temple rules and schedules. Historians disagree about whether they received any sort of monastic ordinations. Since their jobs required that they openly and flagrantly violate the Mahayana Brahmajala precepts, one suspects they were not asked to take vows to keep them. More than one historian has described them as nothing but hired thugs."

"What does one do with thoughts? There is a common misunderstanding that thoughts must be stopped, but this is neither true nor possible. To put it in modern terms, the human brain secretes thoughts the way the pancreas secretes enzymes; stopping thoughts is unnatural, even if you could do it."

"Yes, [Dogen] repudiated nyonin kinsei and taught laywomen and nuns. He wrote in “Raihai tokuzui” (“Bowing and Acquiring the Essence,” 1240),

'But whether we are looking at it from a secular or a Buddhist point of view, nuns should not be banned from places that farmers and others can enter. This tiny country of ours still maintains such disgraceful customs. It depresses me that although the venerable daughters of the compassionate Buddha have come to this little country, they will find the gates of such places barred to them.'

He went on to berate monks who would not recognize the spiritual accomplishments of women. If a nun has attained the Way, Dogen said, a monk who is seeking the Way should become her disciple, request the teachings, and prostrate himself before her."

"When the nun Mugai Nyodai (1223–98) was accepted as a student by Enni Ben’en, the monks were in an uproar. She was a woman of means, of the samurai class, and she offered to pay for the building of a convent for herself on the temple grounds. But she was still harassed by the men. To show her sincerity and shut up her tormentors, she mutilated her own face with a hot iron. Only then was she no longer considered a “distraction” to the monks.

Mugai also studied with the Chinese teacher Mugaku Sogen and received dharma transmission from him, making her the first woman known to receive Rinzai transmission in Japan. Yet she was forgotten by history. According to Grace Schireson in Zen Women, Mugai was erased from official records by a dharma nephew, Muso Soseki"

"Art historians closely examining [Haukuin's] work say he also painted Möbius strips—a twisted two-dimensional loop with one side—a century before they were supposedly discovered by the German mathematician August Möbius."

"In those days someone like Prinsep was called an “orientalist,” a term that today is used disparagingly to refer to the way Westerners stereotype Asian culture. But some of the European orientalists were genuinely captivated by Asia and sincerely wanted to learn more about it. Although European colonial powers in Asia justifiably are remembered as exploiters and oppressors, the early orientalists in India saw themselves as devotees of India’s people, culture, and history."

"Watts began koan training with Sokei-an, but after Sokei-an did not approve his first couple of answers, Watts became frustrated with it and quit. Resolution of the first koan usually takes years, not days. Watts had a keen intellect and was used to grasping philosophical concepts quickly, but koans aren’t philosophical concepts. That was the end of Watts’s formal Zen training; he decided to be an observer of Zen—a “philosophical entertainer,” as he would later say—rather than a student of it."

"Zen teachers used the teaching of emptiness to justify slaughter, saying that no one would be killed. You might remember that this perversion of the teachings goes back at least to the seventeenth century, where we saw it in Takuan’s treatise for the shogun’s sword master. There also were arguments that, since nothing has intrinsic self-nature, war itself can be neither good nor bad."

"Eido Shimano and Joshu Sasaki were both accused, credibly, of out-and-out sexual predation. Women complained to boards or senior monastics for years, and for years nothing was done about it. This enabling behavior was supported by a number of factors—the desire to protect Zen’s reputation, the tendency to think that a Zen master must be some larger-than-life being who cannot be questioned, and a pervasive culture that winked at the shabby treatment of women."

"The Zen teacher James Ford has written about the “ton of people with strong opinions but very little actual experience with Zen” who present themselves as experts on Zen on the web, and as a result there’s a lot more noise than signal. There is also a dreary tendency on the part of would-be zennies to interpret bits of the old literature—“Just this is it” and “Ordinary mind is the way”—as assurances that we don’t really have to work at this enlightenment thing all that hard."

"It’s true that many of the great teachers of the past spent time as hermits. But at some point, in some way, they gave something back; they took students, they built a temple, they wrote poems. Something. The circle isn’t complete until something is given. It’s for this reason my greatest hope for Western Zen is that we focus on building communities of practitioners. Teachers are important, but we’re not all going to be teachers. Communities give us ways to both receive and give as we are able, whether assisting other students, temple caretaking, or cooking for a retreat. Such activities are as much part of the circle of practice-enlightenment as dharma transmission. If we practice only for ourselves, for our own benefit, we’re doing it wrong."

[David Guy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ve been asking myself what makes a religion ever since I read Karen Armstrong’s marvelous The Lost Art of Scripture. There, in that cataloging of the world’s vast scriptures, Christianity almost seems to get lost, with a Bible that came together haphazardly, from a wide variety of sources, a New Testament with varying accounts of Jesus’ life, all of them created some time after his death. Yet it’s burgeoned into a religion that is vastly important on the world stage. I happen to think a lot of it is misguided, though there is deep truth in Christianity and the life of Christ. But it is remarkable what came of it. And in that story, it almost seems that Paul’s conversion, after Jesus had died, was the most important moment. Paul’s letters were written before the Gospels, and if Paul hadn’t lived, I’m not sure Christianity would exist.

Buddhism—and in particular Zen Buddhism—is almost more surprising. Perhaps just because he is further back in time, there is less historical evidence that the Buddha lived than there is for Jesus. Barbara O’Brien isn’t saying he didn’t live, but the legendary life as it has been passed down to us has its fantastic elements; and is obviously partly made up.[1] And for the great teacher who supposedly brought the teachings from India to China, Bodhidharma, there is even less evidence of his existence (and the story of his life is even more fantastic). There are reputable scholars who think that figure is an amalgam, that Bodhidharma never lived (though he did leave behind teachings. Hmm).

Yet over a period of centuries, and with contributions from all kinds of people and various cultures, a religion that we think of as Zen Buddhism did emerge, and for me it embodies a more compelling truth than anything else I’ve encountered. It isn’t that Zen is “true” and other religions “false.” Zen is an extremely effective portal to the numinous. It is at the heart of my life, and is my religion.

I think that the thing that captures people—or doesn’t; one never knows—is zazen, the practice of sitting meditation that is at the heart of Zen. If there were no superstructure—no teaching—around that at all, I would still practice it. But the teachings of the Buddha have also been vastly important to me, and given me a different view of the world. I was stunned when I first encountered them.

I say the teachings of Buddha, but I’m really talking about the teachings of Larry Rosenberg, with whom I studied for years and eventually wrote a couple of books. It was his simple sanity, and the sanity he found in the Buddha’s most basic teachings, especially the Four Noble Truths, that impressed me. He taught vipassana meditation, but he knew the whole tradition, Theravada, Tibetan, and Zen, and taught without regard to where teachings came from. When I moved back to North Carolina and encountered Zen teachings with Josho Pat Phelan, they didn’t seem different from what Larry had taught me. They just focused more on one tradition.

O’Brien doesn’t think Taoism had that great an effect on Zen, and in that, I must say, I beg to differ. I’m no scholar, and can’t trace the influences, but when you begin with Theravada Buddhism and the Pali Canon, then move to the Chinese teachings at the heart of Zen, you are moving from a prosaic, rational view of things (though I believe there is a deeply mystical experience behind it[2]) to a poetic and mystical view which seems very much influenced by Taoism, both in the way it’s expressed and in what it says. Just look, for instance, at a teaching like Song of the Jewel-Mirror Samadhi. I don’t think Taoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism were as walled-off in China as religions are in the West; people studied and learned from everything. And the traditions blend together. When you read Red Pine’s translation of the Dao De Ching and all the commentaries he quotes, everybody was commenting. It wasn’t just Daoists.

For me the Chinese teachings of the Golden Age of Zen weren’t saying something new: they were expressing truths that were already inherent in the teachings of the Buddha, but hadn’t been made explicit (in the same way that commentators on the Torah brought out its real meaning). The teachings of the Chinese teachers were themselves deepened by the maddeningly difficult and mysterious teachings of Eihei Dogen, the thirteenth century Japanese teacher who is considered the founder of Soto Zen, and whose writings form the basis for it. It is only through modern teachers—people like Shunryu Suzuki, Dainin Katagiri, Kobun Chino, Kosho Uchiyama, Shohaku Okumura—that I have any understanding of Dogen’s teachings at all. But the study of his work is the study of a lifetime, and it goes hand in hand with the practice he taught. His view of sitting meditation is the purest and simplest I’ve come across.[3]

O’Brien traces this history with a practitioner’s heart and a scholar’s attention to detail. She writes wonderfully and with a great sense of humor, and doesn’t dodge the scandals of this religion’s recent history: the warmongering[4] of some of the twentieth century teachers who were all for Japan’s imperial ambitions, and the sexual scandals of others. I myself am most interested in this recent story, which she skims over rather quickly, but we have other sources for that, like How the Swans Came to the Lake. She catches us up on the history we didn’t already know.

And she does a real service to those of us who practice this religion, by showing how it came together.

[1] It’s amazing the liberties people take with it. I just leafed through a book called The Tao of Meditation, and there’s a story of the Buddha’s life in there that is all over be place. It bears almost no relationship to the original story.

[2] At one point in the Pali Canon, the Buddha picked up a handful of leaves and said to his followers, “Are there more leaves in my hand or in the forest?” They replied that there were more in the forest. He said, “The leaves in my hand are what I’ve taught you. The leaves in the forest are what I’ve learned.” He had learned much that he had not taught his students, but he had taught them a practice that would make that learning available to them.

[3] That brings up another quibble I had with O’Brien’s account. She mentions that Dogen thought that his practice—shikantaza, the practice of just sitting, was what the Buddha taught under the Bodhi tree. She says “I have been told” that this isn’t true. (Who the hell told her? And how does he know?) But there is a famous story from the Pali Canon that talks about the Buddha remembering a simple kind of sitting he did as a child, wondering if that might be the way to truth, and I have always thought that was what the Buddha was doing under the Bodhi tree (and any scholar who contradicts me by what he “knows” from his study is expressing an opinion. Nobody knows what happened under the Bodhi tree). Shikantaza is not really a method of meditation. It’s what we come to when we’ve given up all the methods. As Diana St. Ruth says in her wonderful book Sitting, “My belief is that the Buddha himself didn’t teach any method at all. . . . The Buddha didn’t really have a method other than awareness, and awareness is no method at all; it is a straightforward ‘opening of the eyes,’ a kind of waking up as if from a dream.”

[4] It’s true that some of these men supported their country in its war. But that’s no different from Christians supporting the war effort in this and other countries. Jesus wasn’t exactly a warrior.

www.davidguy.org

[Andrei · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed reading this book and finding out about the history of Zen Buddhism. I especially liked the way in which Mrs O'Brien presents the history, including the less pleasant parts, and thus makes things more real. I believe it is part of one of the three infinites she mentions at the end, and it really pervades the book throughout. The book left me hopeful towards the future of Zen. One thing I would have liked at the end of the book though, would have been a "further reading" recommended list (which does not exist in this book; it only has an index and notes). Since the author mentions a lot of books, this further reading list would have been more useful than just writing down each book as one reads.

[Arend · Rating 2 out of 5]

The history of Zen is just one dharma heir after another.

The barrage of names and lineages make it difficult to read. I liked the attempt at digging up herstory, but found the author’s distrust of academics a little jarring when she also wants them to study these forgotten parts of Zen history. The transnational telling is good, but then the bias towards Soto Zen and the breeziness (many times “this could fill several books, but here is a paragraph instead”) worked against it. Too much of a cliff notes feeling.

[Nikko · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great overview of the entire history of Zen and really nothing like it exists. It presents a map from which we can explore more too. A must read for all interested in Zen/Chan/Soen etc.

Note - I work for Shambhala Publications, but this is an objective review!

[Peter Allum · Rating 3 out of 5]

A valuable historical survey of Zen, but somewhat superficial.

The story of Zen is commonly told in terms of personalities: Gautama Buddha and his teachings; Bodhidharma, who took Buddhism from India to China; the Japanese monk, Dogen, who drew on Chinese Chan to create Japanese Soto Zen; and the Japanese master, Hakuin, who revitalized Japanese Rinzai Zen. O’Brien, conventionally, focuses on these key figures and the many dozens more who make up the rich tapestry of Zen history. The main value of the book lies in the comprehensiveness of this survey.

The book falls short, however, in its aim to provide a “Concise History of Zen”. Buddhism has evolved and bifurcated over its 2500-year history, becoming the equivalent of a river delta of different schools and practices. Zen is just one of the resulting rivers, starting at the same origin, but taking a very different path from, say, Pure Land Buddhism or Tibetan Buddhism. A more full history would give a better sense of what Zen represents today, and how different religious approaches, alternative institutional arrangements, and evolving sources of external patronage contributed to the path that Zen took, over the years. The list of Zen masters is one small part of the story, but there is so much more.

O’Brien’s envisaged reader seems to be a history-curious member of an American Zen group. Perhaps assuming that this reader already has a good experiential understanding of “modern” Zen, O’Brien makes no attempt to provide a definition. Admittedly, Zen is tricky to pin down; yet, without defining its key characteristics, it is difficult to explain how Zen differs from other strands of Buddhism, and when and how, historically, it evolved in the direction it did.

Perhaps a rich and more full understanding of how Zen developed is too ambitious a task, given available documentary resources. (Morten Schlutter, though, did an impressive job of documenting the complexities of Song dynasty Chan Buddhism in ”How Zen Became Zen”.) While The Circle of the Way is a breezy read, it often prompts more questions than it answers. For example, we learn that, in the early Tang dynasty, “there was not yet a strong sense of Zen being a distinctive school (p.84)”, implying, we assume, that its teachings and practice did not yet set it apart from Pure Land, Tiantai, and Huayan Buddhists. However, within a century there was enough specificity in Zen practice to give rise to a controversial divide between its northern and southern factions and for a third, “Oxhead” school to emerge. What is missing here is a sense of exactly how Zen started to distinguish itself and what gave rise to those changes.

If the The Circle of the Way has a secondary focus, it is on the development of key sutras that ended up as part of the Zen curriculum. Considerable attention is given to the Diamond Sutra and Heart Sutra, both dating to the early centuries of the common era. However, while it is argued that these had a “decisive impact” on Buddhism, we don’t get a clear sense of what that impact was, and how they helped define Zen today (apart from being regularly chanted in Soto sanghas, for example).

Overall, four stars for a go-to source on Dahui, Mazu, and many, many more; and two stars for not digging more deeply into what made Zen its very distinctive self.

[Jeremy Lucas · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Eastern Hemisphere is largely foreign to the West, perhaps more so than the Western Hemisphere is to the East, which makes this a difficult book to review, me being a lifelong member of the West. For most of the chapters, I felt lost and ignorant, like swimming in a sea, in a river, in an ocean of unfamiliar waters, with no view of any reachable, recognizable land. And that’s less the fault of the author and more the fault of my chambered historical knowledge, passively aware that an Eastern history/culture/society/religion exists and has existed for millennia, but frustratingly locked up in a tower of white European and American consciousness, where what I see and read is too far away, too foreign, too confusing to process. That said, O’Brien did her best to represent the chronological history of Buddhism from its origins to the way in which it is viewed today, using occasional wit and humor to lighten the load of what she had to imagine was a lot for her western audience. What made it difficult, unfortunately, was that she frequently started sentences like “you probably remember so and so from such and such,” when in reality, I could barely remember the character names from the page before, let alone 100 pages and seven chapters earlier, because for most of this book, I was reading in a fog of “this happened, then that happened, then yep, then yep, then yep.” In the end, my takeaway of Buddhism was not unlike that of other religions, Christianity being my own upbringing, where the ideals and hopes of a kinder society, a more gracious humanity never really match up with the actualization of our more violent, vile, and unvirtuous histories, the stories that paint a far different image from the one most of us want to believe about ourselves, or about the faith traditions we adhere. So maybe this book is a 3.5, a credit to the author for helping me see that Buddhism, or even Zen Buddhism in particular, is not quite the wholly peaceful picture I had in my head when I started reading.

[Natú · Rating 5 out of 5]

A robust history of the development of zen as a distinct school out of yogacara, into competing Chinese schools, and finally into the current patchwork culturally dominated (at least in North America) by Japanese Sōtō and Rinzai. Unlike the history of Pure Land Buddhism that I reviewed recently, this book is not divided into sections on history and practice, but rather weaves the two together. In the case of the Pure Land book, I questioned this choice, insofar as discussions of practice and doctrine arose inevitably in the historical discussion, but here I see why: the biggest strike against this book is how its looping, tangential nature can make it feel like a slog at times, though it remains concise in light of the scope of the subject.

Where this book surpasses the Pure Land book is its historical rootedness. O'Brien grounds her history in the concrete social developments that nurtured zen at turns, suppressed it at others, and led to it's doctrinal and organizational shifts over time and place. She does not hesitate to challenge zen's own assertions about itself, including the unbroken lines of succession to Bodhidharma and earlier, the nature of the six patriarchs, etc., and ends with a brief summary on the figures who brought zen out of Asia and into the West, highlighting the shaky track record of many of the first generation of leaders in American zen and the challenges zen faces adapting to the context of Western audiences.

A bit of a niche book in that it is focused on the historical development of zen as a school rather than the ideological contents of that school per se. It is not, therefore, the book to read if you are curious what exactly zen is. For that, I'd recommend Shunryu Suzuki, as something I've read personally, or Three Pillars of Zen by Philip Kapleau, which comes recommended though I haven't read it personally. There are also plenty of resources in book or podcast form from people like Brad Warner, Koshin Paley Ellison, etc., that accessibly present zen teachings and their application to everyday life.

[Beth · Rating 4 out of 5]

I borrowed this book from the Phoenix Public Library back in January(!) when I was browsing through the impressive space. Thank goodness for multiple renewals -- I finally picked it back up late last month after, I think ~180 consecutive of meditation (thank you, Headspace).

It's a good read for those who are familiar with some form of meditation. You'll recognize some terms, and not have a clue about others, which is totally okay. Just be advised that this is a broad overview of Zen Buddhism (a smidge over 280 pages), so if you're looking for an in-depth read about it, you'll want to visit some of the texts O'Brien references throughout her book.

I'm not surprised that the Western world took what it wanted from another Asian cultural practice and adapted it to fit their lifestyles and societies. Buddhism's own history is deep with conflict, and I enjoyed learning about its origin, its main branches, and its evolution over many thousands of years. Definitely reminded me of being mindful (too much?) of how a practice rooted in a belief system and lifestyle has been appropriated by us to fit our current individual situations. I tip my cap to O'Brien and all the work she did.

[Will Harlan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Exactly what it says on the cover, a concise history — as clear as one can get — of Zen Buddhism. Barbara O’Brien is a clear, approachable writer. She also clearly knows her stuff. The only thing I wish is that there were more regular recaps on recurring figures/names. I read this book leisurely and, really, the book such as it is requires closer study from novices. I’ll definitely revisit this book in the future!

[Brian Hagerty · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book does a good job covering the history of Zen Buddhism in an even-handed way. O'Brien provides just enough historical information, without getting bogged down in unresolvable disputes. If you're curious about how Buddhism in general, and Zen Buddhism in particular, developed, this book is for you.

[Rick Hardy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful history and commentary useful for someone new wanting to learn the history and "basis" of the development of "Chan" or Zen. Clear and engaging.

Thank you also for your heartfelt afterword

Bows

[Andy McLellan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I would give this 4 1/2 stars if I could. It is very good.

I wished for greater depth in some places but that would stop this from being an extremely valuable concise history of Zen as it claims to be. Before Barbara O'Brien wrote The Circle of the Way, we were reliant on Heinrich Dumoulin's broad and deep two volumes of Zen Buddhism: A History which has not aged terribly well as Zen and Asian studies have moved on.

This volume instead becomes the go-to text as a primer on the history of Zen from the historical Buddha to the present day. All of the major characters from Zen history you would expect to find here, are here.

I very much like her conclusion at the end, as she surveys the present state of Zen in the west, declaring it to be an orchid that has still not put down firm roots on a new rock, and her final few paragraphs point to the direction she sees as most valuable going forward:

"[M]y greatest hope for Western Zen is that we focus on building communities of practitioners. Teachers are important, but we're not all going to be teachers. Communities give us ways to both receive and give as we are able, whether assisting other students, temple caretaking, or cooking for a retreat. Such activities are as much part of the circle of practice-enlightenment as dharma transmission. If we practice only for ourselves, we're doing it wrong.

The Soto Zen teacher Zenkei Blanche Hartman (1926-2016) said that a life of Zen is a life of vow beginning with the vow to awaken with all beings. This is an endless vow, an infinite vow. It is not about achieving some glorious thing some day, but about doing our best right now.

And no matter how much thrashing about and innovating we do, if we are sincerely living the vow, the circle will be whole. We and Zen will be fine."

[Taryn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very well researched and written.

[Laurence Westwood · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent - a warm, witty, and clear history!

[John Shin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exactly as advertised. The book was indeed a concise history of Zen.

[Simon Huffman-Gottschling · Rating 2 out of 5]

meh

[Pamela · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a classic textbook and it’s about Zen Buddhism. O’Brien writes in detail about the history, politics, figures - both known and unknown, the various schools, and the current state of Zen Buddhism. It is a fascinating read and, for those interested in studying Zen Buddhism, a necessary addition to any devotee’s library.

Some readers will find O’Brien’s interjection of her personal opinions detract from her attempt to teach newcomers about Zen Buddhism and reduce it to just another interpretation of the little that is known about the beginnings of both Buddhism and Zen Buddhism. That is one possible interpretation.

If you are wanting to deepen your understanding of Zen Buddhism, add this book to your to-be-read list. You should find it enlightening.

My thanks to Shambala and Edelweiss for an e-ARC.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've never done a deep dive into Buddhism, so I found this interesting. It's written in pretty friendly language and tone even though it's essentially an academic work in my view. My guess is that this will appeal mainly to die-hard Buddhists or those that want the nuances. But if you just enjoy learning and/or want learn about this subject via its history, this is a great place to start.

I really appreciate the NetGalley advanced copy for review!!

[Steve · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonderful book. I looked so much up on Wikipedia, I put so many books on my list of books to read, and I thought so many interesting thoughts. What I like about Zen is it's focus on meditation. I'm not sure if I always appreciate the koans and rope a dope style. Even so, it's a glorious history. Barbara O'Brien does a pretty good job. I was enveloped by this book for a week. Amazing book.

[Dominick · Rating 5 out of 5]

I highly recommend The Circle of the Way to any person interested by or practicing Zen.
Barbara O’Brien did a fantastic work of research and the book is definitively a great source of knowledge. Beginners or long term students of zen, especially in the younger generations will find a treasure of information about the history and development of zen.

[Cristie Underwood · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an interesting and well written history of Buddhism. I thought the personal insights of the author made this more relatable vs being an uninteresting textbook kind of read.