"In this extraordinary book, William Scott Wilson brings his vast experience as a renowned translator of Japanese literature and religious thought…a must read for all those interested in how traditional Japanese culture endures in modern times. --Steven Heine, author of Readings of Dogen's Treasury of the True Dharma Eye"
✨the life and zen haiku poetry of santoka taneda by sumita oyama✨ translated and introduced by william scott wilson
this book was such a beautiful experience, a literal journey through reading. to haiku lovers and enthusiasts, this book is for us 🥹♥️
here we have a wandering haiku poet, named Santoka Taneda, who gave up his regular life to travel around Japan, whether it be through begging or through the goodwill of others, and then write poetry.
poetry was living itself, he said. it is not merely *a way* of life, but it is life, in and of itself. i know of only one other writer i’ve read who thought the same way— and it’s charles bukowski, my favourite poet, from his book: on writing.
it is amazing to see the similarities and contrasts between both of them, but one thing i have noticed for sure is that in the midst of poverty and despair, they write all the more beautifully. not to mention Santoka’s love for sake and Bukowski’s love for beer. funny how even when they’re intoxicated, they manage to create such relatable poems and people, as well as myself, cannot help but admire their genius.
this was truly such a delight to read. his friend, Sumita Oyama, has done us all the favour of compiling Santoka’s biography and interspersing it with his haiku and journal entries. we also owe it to William Scott Wilson for translating this underrated literary gem for all the world to read.
the way this book was written— it was as if i, as a reader, was journeying with Santoka as well: we follow him through the towns he’s been to, meet the people who’ve blessed him throughout his journey, witness the sights he’s seen, and experience quiet solitude with him, in those moments when he’s alone in his hut or pausing in between travelling.
this book felt like i was invited into a journey i never knew i needed, and one i would love to experience all over again when i reread it.
with all my heart, 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 #niquereviews
p. s. this is hayao miyazaki’s favourite book 🥰
as always, thank you so much to @tuttlepublishing for this beautiful copy 🥹♥️
——— thoughts upon finishing:
wow. wow. wow. this book was such a beautiful experience, a journey through reading. to haiku lovers and enthusiasts, this book is for us 🥹♥️
A biography and poetry selection of a more modern era Japanese Zen priest. It was refreshing, since I'm so accustomed to thinking of these figures only existing centuries ago. Taneda had a rough go of it. He left a wife and child to pursue his life as a monk, at first spending time at a monastery, then choosing to wander the countryside. Throughout he is benefitted by sometimes confounding acts of compassion directed toward him, most notably from the wife he left. This despite his proclivity to spend these monetary gifts on sake and shochu and become incapacitatingly drunk. His haiku is good, but not in the same league as Ryokan, Issa, or Ikkyu. He was self-aware enough to know he was struggling, however, and endlessly chastised himself in his journals. Still, he drank until the very near the end of his life, never able to kick his alcoholism.
I found this book a comfort, however. Maybe it was the feeling of "There but for the grace of God (or Buddha) go I...". The lack of ego and the struggle with daily existence also provided some much-needed perspective for my own life. I wish he had been able to subdue his demons, but observing Santoka wrestle with those demons makes for a wonderful lesson. I hope he achieved a very fortunate rebirth.
Anyone interested in haiku should read Santoka. And anyone interested in Santoka should read this book.
William Scott Wilson and Tuttle Publishing have done English readers a great service by putting together this book which includes a significant Introduction and an Afterword by Wilson, the translation of Sumita Oyama’s biography of Santoka and a translation of Santoka’s diary of his final months in his hermitage, Isso-an. Taken together, these texts provide an excellent perspective on Santoka, his life and attitudes, and his haiku. The book is much more comprehensive than either Burton Watson’s For All My Walking or John Stevens’ Mountain Tasting – both of which provide good selections of haiku and diary entries but cannot compare to the length or scope of this book.
Santoka is what might be called “an interesting case”. He was born in 1882 into a prosperous Japanese family but his father squandered the family wealth and Santoka’s mother killed herself when Santoka was eleven. Things went downhill from there: a truncated education, a marriage, a child, a divorce, alcoholism. A melodramatic suicide attempt when Santoka was in his early forties landed him not in jail but in a Zen temple where he was eventually ordained a priest. Santoka had already been an active writer of haiku for more than two decades so this transformation did not affect that aspect of his life. But his ordination was and remained both a turning point and a point of doubt for him. It appeared to give new structure to his life: whether caring for a temple, living in a hermitage or wandering on foot through Japan he was ostensibly living the life of a Zen priest. But was he really a priest? Or was he a fraud? A beggar pretending to be a priest to support his sake and haiku addictions?
It is an open question whether Santoka progressed very far in his Zen despite much earnest effort. His diaries reveal a man repeatedly in despair at his own failures and repeatedly vowing to do better. He drank and begged and wandered and wrote haiku until his death. Does that constitute a Zen life? Does it matter?
Both Sumita Oyama and Wilson bring out these questions in the four texts that comprise this book. There are plenty of dull bits – so much sake, so much walking – but the haiku and diary entries and additional description and commentary flow smoothly, leading the reader to the basic question – is it possible to salvage a severely damaged life? Is that what Santoka achieved, in his later years, in his own battered way?
Whatever the answer to that question, the haiku remain. Santoka wrote that “haiku is the art of one’s state of mind”. That is an apt definition. Santoka’s haiku, like his state of mind, are variable. At best, they capture a moment, often with a wisp of humour or sadness. He was consistently serious about haiku. Never pompous or pretentious. His life is another matter.
Most Western students of haiku are versed in the form’s “Four Pillars” (Basho, Buson, Issa, and Shiki), but few are familiar with the work of Santoka Taneda (1882–1940), an itinerant Zen priest, poet, and drunkard whose eccentric life and radically artless free-verse haiku have made him one of Japan’s most beloved literary figures. Accomplished translator Wilson rectifies this lapse with his deft and moving translation of Oyama’s 1984 biography of his onetime friend. Oyama (1899–1994) recounts Santoka’s years of begging, writing, and drinking too much sake, which he painstakingly juxtaposes with over 300 of Santoka’s haiku. In addition to the sympathetic portrait by Oyama (author of many untranslated works on haiku and literature), this volume includes a translation of Santoka’s own “Diary of the One-Grass Hut,” in which the saintly wastrel chronicled a season in one of the ramshackle hermitages scattered along his wayward path. Wilson’s eloquent introduction and afterword and helpful footnotes provide valuable context, and Gary Miller Haskins’s ink-brush drawings in the whimsical haiga style lighten the account of Santoka’s squalid existence, more Bukowski than Basho. One can hardly imagine a more accessible or authentic introduction to a remarkable seeker whose life and art were indistinguishable, nor a more essential addition to any collection of world literature.
Nearly fifteen years of walking and dedicating himself to becoming nothing other than who he is (and to a cup, or two or three of sake). Except for the island of Hokkaido, Santoka walked the length and breadth of Japan. Santoka enjoyed his journeys, taken pleasure in his sake, did what he wanted to do, said what he wanted to say, did not fool himself, mixed with people he liked, wrote verses he loved and had a good life.
The Life and Zen Poetry of Santoka Taneda was a little tedious at times, especially during the mountain and rivers chapter, but offers a comprehensive experience into the life and wanderings of Santoka, intermingled with his haiku and journal entries.
Este libro es muchos libros en realidad, especie de biografía y exégesis poética de la obra de Santōka por alguien quelo conoció (Ōyama Sumida), antología poética que incluye el último diario de Santōka y una extensa contextualización y colofón a manos del estudioso de Santōka, William Scott Wilson.
¿Por qué, a pesar de ser un dipsómano sin remedio, Taneda Santōka es el haijin más famoso en Japón en la actualidad? Solo basta buscar su nombre en Amazon.co.jp y darse cuenta que este autor, monje itinerante consagrado a la mendicidad y al haiku “libre”, sigue conquistando a lectoras y lectores jóvenes y suscitando numerosos estudios académicos en torno a su persona.
Fuera de Japón, sin embargo, Santōka es casi un desconocido... Y eso, dado el crecimiento vertiginoso que el haiku está gozando en estos momentos, es una pena. Poco a poco, gracias principalmente a los esfuerzos de Vicente Haya, se conocen algunos de sus haikus en español; sin embargo, de su vida sabemos aún muy poco. Por ello, este libro —que en realidad es muchos libros— es una parada obligatoria para cualquier interesado en Santōka, el haiku “libre”, el budismo zen en el s. XX y Japón en general.
interspersing santoka’s poems among the account of his life is a really unique presentation of a poet’s work; all of a sudden, haiku that initially seems quite simple contains multitudes. i think this formatting decision also reflects one of the tenets of santoka’s artistic/literary approach: the sublation of art and life. therefore, this book not only taught me about santoka’s incredible life and work but about the essence of haiku, and of zen buddhism.
One of most enjoyable reads for me. Enjoyed reading how Buddhist wisdom intersects with a fallible human, in contrast to reading about Buddhism and its versions of perfectionism.
I was initially drawn to peruse this book due to its unusual title and found myself engrossed, finishing most of it in just one evening. The somewhat tragic circumstances of the poet's life profoundly moved me. It is particularly poignant to consider how he must have experienced such profound despair to abandon his familial ties and seek solace and redemption in monkhood so late. Unfortunately, the stringent demands of a monk's life seemed to be fundamentally incompatible with the all-to-human temperament of a poet. And so I found passing strange and inspiring how the Zen monks were open to letting him into their fold and how hard he made a go of it. Santoka Taneda seems to evoke in my mind another troubled spirit, the Greek philosopher Diogenes.
From the onset, "The Life and Zen Haiku Poetry of Santoka Taneda: Japan's Beloved Modern Haiku Poet" engrosses readers, captivating them with the melancholy yet beautiful narrative of Santoka Taneda, a figure who stands as a beacon of vulnerability and resilience in the face of life's adversities. The translation of Santoka's "Diary of the One-Grass Hut" provides an intimate glimpse into the poet's inner world, marked by solitude and an unyielding quest for self-discovery and peace.
Santoka's poetry, with its raw emotion and poignant simplicity, resonates deeply, allowing readers to traverse the landscapes of his troubled yet profoundly insightful life. The haikus serve as fragments of a soul laid bare, a testament to the poet's unflinching gaze into the complexities of human existence, articulated with a tender and evocative grace. While Diogenes was famous for extreme austerity and frugality, Santoka seems to have struggled in a similar vein. Still, instead of witty banter, he channeled his energy into the austere format of the Zen Haiku.
Furthermore, the book provides a nuanced portrayal of Santoka's turbulent journey, highlighting the internal conflict that ensued as he grappled with the rigid constraints of a monastic lifestyle and his innate poetic essence. It presents a vivid tableau of a man torn between worlds, striving to find harmony and redemption through poetry.
Despite the tragic undertones of Santoka's life story, an undeniable beauty and wisdom emanates from his verse. His poetry embodies the Zen principle of living in the moment, capturing the transient beauty and inherent sadness of the human condition with striking authenticity.
In conclusion, this book offers a deep and enriching exploration of Santoka Taneda's life and work, a journey marked by heartbreak and transcendence, chronicled through evocative poetry that speaks to the core of the human experience. A compelling read for anyone seeking to immerse themselves in the profound world of Zen haiku poetry, the book serves as a gateway to a realm of reflection and deep beauty guided by the hand of one of Japan's most beloved modern haiku poets.
I don't know if I can recommend this book to anyone, but it moved me deeply. If you want to peek at this beloved poet's strange tale, I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.
On this first read i read the poems and the intro/ preface/ prologue/ notes on translation, afterword. I will read more of “ the life of” on future reads perhaps.
I picked this up just seeing it in the library and was perfect for this time, when haiku, short bursts of beauty are just right. I loved reading about the translation and Santoka’s writing- neither of which hewed to the 5-7-5 or other rules, purely.
A few favorites:
My rainhat’s leaking, too
Remembering the rock, I take a seat
Pushing through, Ever pushing thru, The blue-green mountains
With hollow heart rough waves Coming in, going out ( the Japan Sea)
And the line translator William Scott Wilson picked for the end of his afterword,
One man, one poem at a time, one grass hut! I loved this book, it felt like a wonderful recreational literary exercise. I learned so much and really enjoyed learning it. Looking forward to following this interest into other investigations of haiku and the poets life. Reading this felt like taking a course from a professor who loves the topic and has committed their life to it. And what a wonderful thing to share knowledge and receive it because it pleases you greatly. I noted multiple times the potency of the translated “too” in Santoka’s Haiku. I felt the weight of his life, of one more addition, and the oneness of the too.
Santoka Taneda was not as interesting as I thought he’d be. A lively zen haiku priest drunk basically. His travels stop being intriguing after reaching random places in Japan and remarking on weather and begging continues in the same vein for two hundred pages. To be honest, I barely finished this book but vowed to read more from more classic haiku poets like Basho, Shiki, and Issa. The illustrations were really cute though.
Reading about the life of Santoka Taneda has been an epic adventure. When I read the reviews as I bought this book, I was concerned whether I'd enjoy this book. I have to say my concerns were unfounded. The life of Santoka was a hard one, losing his mother at a young age and his life slowly spiraled to that of addiction and a search for meaning. This was a beautiful book, albeit a little slow.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Aside from a vague sense of intrusion by Oyama, the narrator of Santoka's life (and an acquaintance of his) which makes this book a little tedious at times, the life of Santoka himself is pretty eccentric and thought-provoking. I particularly enjoyed his poems, his diary at the end of the biography, and the introduction written by William Scott Wilson. 7/10
A biography befitting its subject, rooted and rollicking in the passions, pitfalls, and peculiarities of Santoka's life and poetry. Time again, his life--and this book--bring us back to this lesson: "Take the character you were born with to the limit. That is human life. No, isn't it the taste of human life?"
Like a haiku, this book is beautiful in its simplicity; a journey through Japan and poetry, a look into a funny and adorable character, a beautiful intersection of a diary, an autobiography and a compilation of haiku and illustration. I’m now obsessed with haikus thanks to the understanding this book gave me of them.
a timely book to read as my heart is still on the camino a comforting book to read in times of despair and loneliness and personal failure a beautiful book to read to treasure the miracle of a sunrise, the moon, a forest path, or a single flower a humbling book to read to be grateful for a bowl of rice and a warm bath
Wabi sabi, yin, and yang, a portrait of a poet, both admirable and pitiful. Santoka Taneda, was a walking contradiction, (and he did a lot of walking!) a beggar poet, who led a life of dedication and negligence, loneliness and solitude, decadence and asceticism.
This was a good book but... there's only so many times I can read about Taneda getting drunk on sake! Perhaps this book would appeal more to fans of Taneda, or people who are familiar with his work.
Santoka's life in the 20th century is not very different from the old haiku masters. It is cool to have context for the haiku, and the haiku are generally great.