Ryokan

Rating:
Summary: A fine edition of an important Zen poet.
Review: RYOKAN : Zen Monk-Poet of Japan. Translated by Burton Watson. 121 pages. New York : Columbia University Press, 1977 and Reprinted.

Burton Watson has always struck me as an eminently civilized scholar and as a fine translator. Unlike certain others, he wears his scholarship lightly, and doesn't overburden the text with extraneous matter. His many translations from Chinese and Japanese Literature are of uniformly high quality, and are well worth having as they are books one often wants to returns to.

Watson tells us that Ryokan (1758-1831) left about 450 Chinese poems and 1400 Japanese poems. The present book, besides giving us a brief, interesting, and informative 13-page Introduction, contains translations of 43 of the Chinese and 83 of the Japanese poems, along with two very short prose pieces - 'Admonitory Words' and 'Statement on Begging for Food.'

Whereas we have been given only the bare translations of the Chinese poems, Watson has thoughtfully provided "the originals of the Japanese poems ... in romanized form, since poetry in classical Japanese is quite intelligible in such form" (page 12). Finding numbers have been included for all of the poems, and bibliographical details of the sources used by Watson will be found on pages 12-13 of his Introduction.

Ryokan (1758-1831) is one of Japan's best-loved poets, and was born in the "snow country" of Echigo Province on the west coast of Japan. His family was fairly prosperous, the atmosphere in his home was literary and religious, and at the age of about nineteen, possibly as the result of some inner spiritual crisis, he decided to become a Buddhist monk and entered the local Zen temple, Kosho-ji.

It was at this time that he took the name 'Ryokan' - 'ryo' signifying good; 'kan' signifying generosity and largeheartedness. It would be difficult to think of a more appropriate name than 'Good Heart' for the kind of person that Ryokan was, and it goes a great way towards explaining the great love the Japanese have for him.

In him we find the heart of the mother - one who doesn't judge, one who understands, one who accepts and loves us as we are and for what we are - but in Ryokan's case one whose love extended to the whole universe and its myriad beings, whether human, animal, or plant, even the inanimate.

After twelve years of Zen training, Ryokan left Kosho-ji and began a series of pilgrimages that lasted five years. He then returned to his native village, found an abandoned hermitage nearby, and was to spend most of the rest of his life there, meditating, writing, and interacting with the world around him.

The poems he wrote are largely concerned with events in his daily life, and can be read with enjoyment by anyone. In them we find him observing nature, sitting alone through long cold nights and suffering other hardships, exhibiting great compassion for non-human creatures, remembering the past, struggling with loneliness, drinking sake with the local farmers, and playing with the village children. Seemingly simple, these poems can conceal real depths, depths that will be apparent to those familiar with Zen and with Buddhist ideas such as 'no-mind' and 'impermanence,' and with certain Buddhist symbols.

But, as I've indicated, a knowledge of these is not really necessary to appreciate the poems, since Ryokan's main appeal is to our humanity, something we all share. Here is an example of one of the shorter Chinese poems, with my slash marks added to indicate line breaks:

"Blue sky, cold wild-geese crying; / empty hills, tree leaves whirling. / Sunset, road through a hazy village: / going home alone, carrying an empty bowl" (page 78).

Here is one of the Japanese poems:

"Children! / shall we be going now / to the hill / of Iyahiko / to see how the violets are blooming?" (page 27).

Sometimes it seems to me that much of modern literature is a literature of confusion, but that what Ryokan has to offer is a literature of clarity. Ryokan was fully human. He had established contact with reality. His love and compassion were infinite. In this he becomes a model for us all.

The present book, as I've indicated, gives only a small selection from Ryokan. Those whose appetite has been whetted, and who would like more, might take a look at John Stevens 'ONE ROBE, ONE BOWL : The Zen Poetry of Ryokan,' another book of selections which I'm sure they will also enjoy. On the whole, I think Stevens succeeds slightly better in some ways, but though Stevens is good, Watson is good too, and there are few who could do as good a job as either.

Rating:
Summary: A fine edition of an important Zen poet.
Review: RYOKAN : Zen Monk-Poet of Japan. Translated by Burton Watson. 121 pages. New York : Columbia University Press, 1977 and Reprinted.

Burton Watson has always struck me as an eminently civilized scholar and as a fine translator. Unlike certain others, he wears his scholarship lightly, and doesn't overburden the text with extraneous matter. His many translations from Chinese and Japanese Literature are of uniformly high quality, and are well worth having as they are books one often wants to returns to.

Watson tells us that Ryokan (1758-1831) left about 450 Chinese poems and 1400 Japanese poems. The present book, besides giving us a brief, interesting, and informative 13-page Introduction, contains translations of 43 of the Chinese and 83 of the Japanese poems, along with two very short prose pieces - 'Admonitory Words' and 'Statement on Begging for Food.'

Whereas we have been given only the bare translations of the Chinese poems, Watson has thoughtfully provided "the originals of the Japanese poems ... in romanized form, since poetry in classical Japanese is quite intelligible in such form" (page 12). Finding numbers have been included for all of the poems, and bibliographical details of the sources used by Watson will be found on pages 12-13 of his Introduction.

Ryokan (1758-1831) is one of Japan's best-loved poets, and was born in the "snow country" of Echigo Province on the west coast of Japan. His family was fairly prosperous, the atmosphere in his home was literary and religious, and at the age of about nineteen, possibly as the result of some inner spiritual crisis, he decided to become a Buddhist monk and entered the local Zen temple, Kosho-ji.

It was at this time that he took the name 'Ryokan' - 'ryo' signifying good; 'kan' signifying generosity and largeheartedness. It would be difficult to think of a more appropriate name than 'Good Heart' for the kind of person that Ryokan was, and it goes a great way towards explaining the great love the Japanese have for him.

In him we find the heart of the mother - one who doesn't judge, one who understands, one who accepts and loves us as we are and for what we are - but in Ryokan's case one whose love extended to the whole universe and its myriad beings, whether human, animal, or plant, even the inanimate.

After twelve years of Zen training, Ryokan left Kosho-ji and began a series of pilgrimages that lasted five years. He then returned to his native village, found an abandoned hermitage nearby, and was to spend most of the rest of his life there, meditating, writing, and interacting with the world around him.

The poems he wrote are largely concerned with events in his daily life, and can be read with enjoyment by anyone. In them we find him observing nature, sitting alone through long cold nights and suffering other hardships, exhibiting great compassion for non-human creatures, remembering the past, struggling with loneliness, drinking sake with the local farmers, and playing with the village children. Seemingly simple, these poems can conceal real depths, depths that will be apparent to those familiar with Zen and with Buddhist ideas such as 'no-mind' and 'impermanence,' and with certain Buddhist symbols.

But, as I've indicated, a knowledge of these is not really necessary to appreciate the poems, since Ryokan's main appeal is to our humanity, something we all share. Here is an example of one of the shorter Chinese poems, with my slash marks added to indicate line breaks:

"Blue sky, cold wild-geese crying; / empty hills, tree leaves whirling. / Sunset, road through a hazy village: / going home alone, carrying an empty bowl" (page 78).

Here is one of the Japanese poems:

"Children! / shall we be going now / to the hill / of Iyahiko / to see how the violets are blooming?" (page 27).

Sometimes it seems to me that much of modern literature is a literature of confusion, but that what Ryokan has to offer is a literature of clarity. Ryokan was fully human. He had established contact with reality. His love and compassion were infinite. In this he becomes a model for us all.

The present book, as I've indicated, gives only a small selection from Ryokan. Those whose appetite has been whetted, and who would like more, might take a look at John Stevens 'ONE ROBE, ONE BOWL : The Zen Poetry of Ryokan,' another book of selections which I'm sure they will also enjoy. On the whole, I think Stevens succeeds slightly better in some ways, but though Stevens is good, Watson is good too, and there are few who could do as good a job as either.

Rating:
Summary: Chinese/Japanese Zen poetry at its best
Review: This is one of three competent translations of Ryokan's poetry. As each of them is only a sliver of his total poetry output, don't consider them competetors, get them all. But start here.

This collection sets itself apart by including a poetic version of a jataka tale (Rabbit in the Moon), an abridged "Admonitory words" written for himself, and a prose piece on begging - this in addition to a well-chosen selection of translations of poem written in Chinese and Japanese. This book also has a few comments attached to some poems to place them in the life of Ryokan. The net result is a translation that makes it more apparent Ryokan's religious content than the other excellent translations. Watson's familarity with the Chinese poets admired by Ryokan also shows through in the notes and translations. This is a great place to start reading Ryokan's excellent poetry.

Rating:
Summary: Chinese/Japanese Zen poetry at its best
Review: This is one of three competent translations of Ryokan's poetry. As each of them is only a sliver of his total poetry output, don't consider them competetors, get them all. But start here.

This collection sets itself apart by including a poetic version of a jataka tale (Rabbit in the Moon), an abridged "Admonitory words" written for himself, and a prose piece on begging - this in addition to a well-chosen selection of translations of poem written in Chinese and Japanese. This book also has a few comments attached to some poems to place them in the life of Ryokan. The net result is a translation that makes it more apparent Ryokan's religious content than the other excellent translations. Watson's familarity with the Chinese poets admired by Ryokan also shows through in the notes and translations. This is a great place to start reading Ryokan's excellent poetry.