Zen
Zen and Japanese Culture
A Critical Analysis
The first thing that caught my attention upon reading the book Zen and Japanese Culture is the author, Daisetsu Suzuki. At first glance I believe the reader will subconsciously judge the book based on the author’s name alone; the fact that it was written by someone with a Japanese name will surely bring no doubt to the book’s authenticity and reliability, especially for the average reader. Providing more proof for validity is how Daisetsu refers to the Japanese as ‘we’ or ‘us’; he does not separate himself from Japan as a passive observer, but rather as a practitioner and/or a fitting example of the culture. In my opinion it is an effective way to win trust and readership.
The first chapter may seemingly be a mere definition of Zen, but in fact it wholeheartedly slams Western viewpoints in the first few pages. Daisetsu begins by tracing the roots of Zen as it transformed from Indian Buddhism and Zen Buddhism. It is interesting to note that Zen was influenced heavily by Taoism, and foreshadows the final chapter into Japan’s love of Nature. Then he compares the way the Chinese interpret Buddhism as opposed to the Japanese, and then proceeds to differentiate Japanese monks from the others, whether Christian or Buddhist or anything else. By setting apart the Japanese monks from other scribes is to further solidify Zen Buddhism as a religion since it has its own distinctive rituals or practices. For one, according to Daisetsu Zen Buddhists did not limit themselves to “deeds of piety” but to engage in dialogues or debates with their Zen masters.
Westerners’ eagerness to “conceptualize” and “think” is what Daisetsu believes to be useless in the realm of Zen Buddhism. He insists that Zen Buddhism is more of an In-Your-Face mode of thought, and that to dive deeper is to miss the whole idea of Zen completely. As much as I would like to believe this, it is extremely difficult to take Zen as it is; one, probably because of my highly Western background in regards to critical study and theory, and secondly because one tends to get lost upon reading what seems to be highly philosophical jargon in Zen teachings. Daisetsu himself says that the dialogues between a Zen master and his monk are “bizarre and full of incomprehensibles” (pg. 4). Nevertheless, Daisetsu pushes his point by citing many, many anecdotes rather than making clear-cut definitions, and while they are fascinating in their own right they never really give you Zen as it is. However, I am not complaining; it is doubly interesting to learn more about a religion by relating through experiences rather than by reading cold, hard facts. It is also the perfect way for the reader to glimpse into the life of the Zen practitioners, making it easy for us to determine the context behind the scriptures.
Daisetsu stresses that the key to enlightenment is action. He links experience to fulfillment, saying that “this is a practical lesson, teaching by action, learning by doing.” In another anecdote that seems paradoxical, the methodology of Zen’s spirit of “self-reliance” in which the teachings say “Do not rely on others, nor the reading of the sutras and sastras”. Buddhism then separates itself from the Abrahamic religions concerning full obedience towards the “holy scriptures”, and instead focuses on action. You must obey your basic instinct. Daisetsu proceeds to show its Taoist roots by sharing the famous saying: “When you are hungry you eat, when you are thirsty you drink, when you meet a friend you greet him” (pg. 11). Zen Buddhism incorporates itself into everyday living, and this line highlights the purpose of the book itself: to witness how deeply Zen Buddhism becomes one with Japanese culture.
Some points, however, are paradoxical. In a sense Zen Buddhism is against institutions, against the thinking world, against grandiose theories that only muddle the mind instead of making things clear, “as clearly as one sees himself reflected in a mirror”. In another anecdote Dogo the Zen master remarks, “When you want to see, see immediately. As soon as you tarry, the whole thing goes awry.” While in the Western world there is a need (or even an obsession) to pore over every detail in order not to miss a single thing, intellectualization is fruitless if one wants to reach the satori. Daisetsu repeats this point all throughout the book, which made me realize: isn’t that exactly what he’s doing? Based on my reading of the texts, the act of writing a detailed book about Zen Buddhism and extrapolating on it is the wrong approach to take with this religion. In fact, it is said that one must not confuse the verbalization of Zen as something that indulges in abstraction; that it is free from all intellectual complexities-but it is quite difficult to believe this when you are actually faced with the material. One example: the “isness” of a thing, or reality in its “isness”. I believe that the term “isness” is a concept itself, which makes the whole thing even more perplexing because that is what Zen is against.
After Daisetsu explains Zen in several pages it is remarkable to see that he shifts the focus on the arts of Japan, saying that the Zen-man is, first and foremost, an artist who makes his own life into a work of art. This reveals the close bond between Zen Buddhism and the rituals and artistic creations found in Japan, for the monks themselves were artists and scholars. Daisetsu dedicates the next major chapters to Japanese art culture, and proceeds to state the contributions Zen has given in this field. Art, after all, is the most obvious product of Zen, though it is said to be the ‘life’ of the Japanese people-they are no longer aware that what they are doing or making is all in the name of Zen, because they are already living it. Zen was received or interpreted differently in China and Japan, although Zen was both greatly influential in both countries’ philosophies and ideologies. I welcomed this piece of information gladly because Zen Buddhism is mostly associated with Japan-it is hardly mentioned as something that also had great impact in China, especially concerning Taoist and Confucian beliefs.
In art, the infamous “one-corner” style of Japan was mentioned, one that greatly showed the Zen sense of the Alone. Zen seems to me a solitary religion, one that does not rejoice in crowds and gatherings but in quiet contemplation or close relationships between master and student. To respect nature and appreciate its beauty alone-that is what makes Zen religious according to the author. Maybe I am reading too much into it, but because of this I associate Zen aesthetics to melancholic, imperfect beauty, or a celebration of loneliness (and through this celebration, one actually experiences “pleasure”). Finally, Daisetsu associates the “one-corner” style as one that battled against conventional rules, yet he was speaking from a Western perspective. There were no such rules such as mass and balance to break in Japan, after all. Daisetsu makes another slip when he states that Chinese pragmatism and Indian metaphysics are the “two highest forms of Oriental culture” (pg. 350) and when combined create Zen, but my issue with it is that he completely ignored the rest of the countries in the largest continent in the world.
My main critique of Zen and Japanese Culture is that Suzuki Daisetsu does not have a fitting conclusion for his book. It is as if he intrigued us with a fascinating introduction, gave us stories and quotations from Zen masters, and just like that, the book ends without any closing remarks. He takes great care in distinguishing Zen from other religions, and does not provide negative commentary towards it; I am not sure if he did this on purpose to leave the musing to the reader, but the least he could so was to raise some questions at the end of the book. One argument would be that one does not “muse” over Zen, so he just presented his findings and data as is. But with Daisetsu’s style of writing that quite informal for something that was published in the sixties, and the way he mentions his own opinions throughout the book, one would think he would wrap things up with some points to consider.
Another counter is this: Zen is indeed embedded in Japanese culture and Daisetsu says that it is “life” for the Japanese (he says it in an effortless manner, and if the reader is merely skimming over the lines then she or he would automatically read it as a normal, accepted fact when it is actually a bold generalization). However, it seems to me that the concepts of wabi and sabi are being glorified instead of actually embodied in these times. These so-called “pure” art forms that exemplify practical everyday life and disassociation from wealth are now being sold in staggering prices.
Although I definitely agree that Daisetsu effectively proves how embedded Zen Buddhism is in Japanese culture, it is applied in a more “refined” sense. Perhaps because the book itself is quite old, for it was published in the sixties, and that is why he limits his focus on popular traditional practices. Daisetsu’s other chapters include Zen and the Samurai, Zen and Swordmanship, Zen and the Haiku, and lastly Zen and the Tea Ceremony. While these are celebrated and well-known factors of Japanese culture, to me they are not enough as examples of Japanese everyday life. For one thing, we know that there is no longer a system of feudalism in Japan, although there are remnants of the ideology behind the Samurai code (bushido) today, Daisetsu did not connect it to a modern setting (another example that made me laugh a bit: he states, in all seriousness, that the worshiping of poverty is “the most appropriate cult for a poor country like ours.”). However, this is not a failure on his part; as I have said earlier, the book itself is quite dated, and also one cannot include everything in a single book (the book itself is fairly thick already). Rather this is merely an observation from someone whose interests lie on contemporary Japanese Art; it would be satisfying to read a book on Zen which includes more modern examples. Admittedly the tea ceremony and other aspects such as Japan’s love of nature continue to be prevalent today, most likely stemming from Japan’s firm grip of the past while seeking to improve herself technologically. Perhaps Japanese culture is much more beyond haikus and martial arts…although I am not demeaning the high importance of these art forms. It is just that I yearn to know aspects of Japanese Zen culture that have not been discussed as thoroughly.
Nevertheless, I recommend Suzuki Daisetsu’s Zen and Japanese Culture book for all readers who are interested in Zen Buddhism, even if they are not familiar with this religion. It is actually a good study because of its anecdotes, which I enjoyed more than the long descriptions of Zen given by Western scholars (that were mostly debunked by Daisetsu himself). Daisetsu was definitely able to give us a glimpse on the Japanese mindset and how Zen contributed greatly to what is “Japanese”, though things may be a bit different nowadays. Many initial impressions of Zen Buddhism that were deemed superficial by Daisetsu were discussed, although the reader may still be puzzled because of the discrepancy of the words. Perhaps Japanese culture is like that in a way-contradictory, though it makes perfect sense to the Japanese. Zen is influenced by Taoist beliefs after all, and that is why seemingly separate and clashing elements can be incorporated as one and no one will even bat an eyelash.
A Critical Analysis
The first thing that caught my attention upon reading the book Zen and Japanese Culture is the author, Daisetsu Suzuki. At first glance I believe the reader will subconsciously judge the book based on the author’s name alone; the fact that it was written by someone with a Japanese name will surely bring no doubt to the book’s authenticity and reliability, especially for the average reader. Providing more proof for validity is how Daisetsu refers to the Japanese as ‘we’ or ‘us’; he does not separate himself from Japan as a passive observer, but rather as a practitioner and/or a fitting example of the culture. In my opinion it is an effective way to win trust and readership.
The first chapter may seemingly be a mere definition of Zen, but in fact it wholeheartedly slams Western viewpoints in the first few pages. Daisetsu begins by tracing the roots of Zen as it transformed from Indian Buddhism and Zen Buddhism. It is interesting to note that Zen was influenced heavily by Taoism, and foreshadows the final chapter into Japan’s love of Nature. Then he compares the way the Chinese interpret Buddhism as opposed to the Japanese, and then proceeds to differentiate Japanese monks from the others, whether Christian or Buddhist or anything else. By setting apart the Japanese monks from other scribes is to further solidify Zen Buddhism as a religion since it has its own distinctive rituals or practices. For one, according to Daisetsu Zen Buddhists did not limit themselves to “deeds of piety” but to engage in dialogues or debates with their Zen masters.
Westerners’ eagerness to “conceptualize” and “think” is what Daisetsu believes to be useless in the realm of Zen Buddhism. He insists that Zen Buddhism is more of an In-Your-Face mode of thought, and that to dive deeper is to miss the whole idea of Zen completely. As much as I would like to believe this, it is extremely difficult to take Zen as it is; one, probably because of my highly Western background in regards to critical study and theory, and secondly because one tends to get lost upon reading what seems to be highly philosophical jargon in Zen teachings. Daisetsu himself says that the dialogues between a Zen master and his monk are “bizarre and full of incomprehensibles” (pg. 4). Nevertheless, Daisetsu pushes his point by citing many, many anecdotes rather than making clear-cut definitions, and while they are fascinating in their own right they never really give you Zen as it is. However, I am not complaining; it is doubly interesting to learn more about a religion by relating through experiences rather than by reading cold, hard facts. It is also the perfect way for the reader to glimpse into the life of the Zen practitioners, making it easy for us to determine the context behind the scriptures.
Daisetsu stresses that the key to enlightenment is action. He links experience to fulfillment, saying that “this is a practical lesson, teaching by action, learning by doing.” In another anecdote that seems paradoxical, the methodology of Zen’s spirit of “self-reliance” in which the teachings say “Do not rely on others, nor the reading of the sutras and sastras”. Buddhism then separates itself from the Abrahamic religions concerning full obedience towards the “holy scriptures”, and instead focuses on action. You must obey your basic instinct. Daisetsu proceeds to show its Taoist roots by sharing the famous saying: “When you are hungry you eat, when you are thirsty you drink, when you meet a friend you greet him” (pg. 11). Zen Buddhism incorporates itself into everyday living, and this line highlights the purpose of the book itself: to witness how deeply Zen Buddhism becomes one with Japanese culture.
Some points, however, are paradoxical. In a sense Zen Buddhism is against institutions, against the thinking world, against grandiose theories that only muddle the mind instead of making things clear, “as clearly as one sees himself reflected in a mirror”. In another anecdote Dogo the Zen master remarks, “When you want to see, see immediately. As soon as you tarry, the whole thing goes awry.” While in the Western world there is a need (or even an obsession) to pore over every detail in order not to miss a single thing, intellectualization is fruitless if one wants to reach the satori. Daisetsu repeats this point all throughout the book, which made me realize: isn’t that exactly what he’s doing? Based on my reading of the texts, the act of writing a detailed book about Zen Buddhism and extrapolating on it is the wrong approach to take with this religion. In fact, it is said that one must not confuse the verbalization of Zen as something that indulges in abstraction; that it is free from all intellectual complexities-but it is quite difficult to believe this when you are actually faced with the material. One example: the “isness” of a thing, or reality in its “isness”. I believe that the term “isness” is a concept itself, which makes the whole thing even more perplexing because that is what Zen is against.
After Daisetsu explains Zen in several pages it is remarkable to see that he shifts the focus on the arts of Japan, saying that the Zen-man is, first and foremost, an artist who makes his own life into a work of art. This reveals the close bond between Zen Buddhism and the rituals and artistic creations found in Japan, for the monks themselves were artists and scholars. Daisetsu dedicates the next major chapters to Japanese art culture, and proceeds to state the contributions Zen has given in this field. Art, after all, is the most obvious product of Zen, though it is said to be the ‘life’ of the Japanese people-they are no longer aware that what they are doing or making is all in the name of Zen, because they are already living it. Zen was received or interpreted differently in China and Japan, although Zen was both greatly influential in both countries’ philosophies and ideologies. I welcomed this piece of information gladly because Zen Buddhism is mostly associated with Japan-it is hardly mentioned as something that also had great impact in China, especially concerning Taoist and Confucian beliefs.
In art, the infamous “one-corner” style of Japan was mentioned, one that greatly showed the Zen sense of the Alone. Zen seems to me a solitary religion, one that does not rejoice in crowds and gatherings but in quiet contemplation or close relationships between master and student. To respect nature and appreciate its beauty alone-that is what makes Zen religious according to the author. Maybe I am reading too much into it, but because of this I associate Zen aesthetics to melancholic, imperfect beauty, or a celebration of loneliness (and through this celebration, one actually experiences “pleasure”). Finally, Daisetsu associates the “one-corner” style as one that battled against conventional rules, yet he was speaking from a Western perspective. There were no such rules such as mass and balance to break in Japan, after all. Daisetsu makes another slip when he states that Chinese pragmatism and Indian metaphysics are the “two highest forms of Oriental culture” (pg. 350) and when combined create Zen, but my issue with it is that he completely ignored the rest of the countries in the largest continent in the world.
My main critique of Zen and Japanese Culture is that Suzuki Daisetsu does not have a fitting conclusion for his book. It is as if he intrigued us with a fascinating introduction, gave us stories and quotations from Zen masters, and just like that, the book ends without any closing remarks. He takes great care in distinguishing Zen from other religions, and does not provide negative commentary towards it; I am not sure if he did this on purpose to leave the musing to the reader, but the least he could so was to raise some questions at the end of the book. One argument would be that one does not “muse” over Zen, so he just presented his findings and data as is. But with Daisetsu’s style of writing that quite informal for something that was published in the sixties, and the way he mentions his own opinions throughout the book, one would think he would wrap things up with some points to consider.
Another counter is this: Zen is indeed embedded in Japanese culture and Daisetsu says that it is “life” for the Japanese (he says it in an effortless manner, and if the reader is merely skimming over the lines then she or he would automatically read it as a normal, accepted fact when it is actually a bold generalization). However, it seems to me that the concepts of wabi and sabi are being glorified instead of actually embodied in these times. These so-called “pure” art forms that exemplify practical everyday life and disassociation from wealth are now being sold in staggering prices.
Although I definitely agree that Daisetsu effectively proves how embedded Zen Buddhism is in Japanese culture, it is applied in a more “refined” sense. Perhaps because the book itself is quite old, for it was published in the sixties, and that is why he limits his focus on popular traditional practices. Daisetsu’s other chapters include Zen and the Samurai, Zen and Swordmanship, Zen and the Haiku, and lastly Zen and the Tea Ceremony. While these are celebrated and well-known factors of Japanese culture, to me they are not enough as examples of Japanese everyday life. For one thing, we know that there is no longer a system of feudalism in Japan, although there are remnants of the ideology behind the Samurai code (bushido) today, Daisetsu did not connect it to a modern setting (another example that made me laugh a bit: he states, in all seriousness, that the worshiping of poverty is “the most appropriate cult for a poor country like ours.”). However, this is not a failure on his part; as I have said earlier, the book itself is quite dated, and also one cannot include everything in a single book (the book itself is fairly thick already). Rather this is merely an observation from someone whose interests lie on contemporary Japanese Art; it would be satisfying to read a book on Zen which includes more modern examples. Admittedly the tea ceremony and other aspects such as Japan’s love of nature continue to be prevalent today, most likely stemming from Japan’s firm grip of the past while seeking to improve herself technologically. Perhaps Japanese culture is much more beyond haikus and martial arts…although I am not demeaning the high importance of these art forms. It is just that I yearn to know aspects of Japanese Zen culture that have not been discussed as thoroughly.
Nevertheless, I recommend Suzuki Daisetsu’s Zen and Japanese Culture book for all readers who are interested in Zen Buddhism, even if they are not familiar with this religion. It is actually a good study because of its anecdotes, which I enjoyed more than the long descriptions of Zen given by Western scholars (that were mostly debunked by Daisetsu himself). Daisetsu was definitely able to give us a glimpse on the Japanese mindset and how Zen contributed greatly to what is “Japanese”, though things may be a bit different nowadays. Many initial impressions of Zen Buddhism that were deemed superficial by Daisetsu were discussed, although the reader may still be puzzled because of the discrepancy of the words. Perhaps Japanese culture is like that in a way-contradictory, though it makes perfect sense to the Japanese. Zen is influenced by Taoist beliefs after all, and that is why seemingly separate and clashing elements can be incorporated as one and no one will even bat an eyelash.