Customer Reviews

The Old Tea Seller: Life and Zen Poetry in 18th Century Kyoto

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This strange, eccentric figure haunts the margins of any number of books I've read on a fairly wide variety of topics--Zen Buddhism, Japanese poetry, calligraphy, the tea ceremony, Edo period history. With his unusual name at once impersonally generic and straightforwardly descriptive, Baisao, the "Old Tea Seller" has popped up mysteriously again and again. Brief cameo appearances, frustratingly elusive. Until now. Now finally I was able to sit down and get to know the guy properly with this excellent volume focused exclusively on his life and poetry.

The book consists roughly of two parts. In the first part, Norman Waddell draws upon a wide variety of sources (including ones recently discovered) to painstakingly piece together the life of Baisao. What emerges is truly a fascinating tale of a man who starts out as a promising Obaku Zen monk and scholar in the heyday of the Tokugawa era only to toss all this aside, inspired by his own complex and uncompromising spirituality. Instead he makes his way through life by taking on the lowly job of selling tea here and there around Kyoto, his frugal and sincere life and oddly non-aligned religiosity making him a respected and beloved celebrity of sorts in the Old Capital. Through the lens of his biography too we learn much about the spread of Obaku Zen in Japan of the time, the vibrantly unorthodox--almost "beatnik"--cultural circles of Kyoto in a time of supposed feudal rigidity, and the development and popularization of sencha--what we usually picture when we think of Japanese green tea, of which Baisao was one of the key pioneers.

In the second part, Waddell allows Baisao to speak for himself through expertly-crafted translations of most of his known poems and some of his short prose works on the history of tea in Japan and such. Most of the poems are kanshi (in the format of classical Chinese poetry) and celebrate his semi-itinerant lifestyle, the glories and benefits both physical and spiritual of the tea he's peddling, and his close relationships with the painters, poets, and Zen monks of Kyoto. In tone they are as delightfully unpretentious as they are learned and imbued with an easily-overlooked depth. Full of the spirit of Zen but very much independent (even scornful in spots) of its organizational framework. Here is the voice of a man who with a nice hot cup of delicious tea turned on, tuned in, dropped out--and took both the good and the bad that came with that path with equanimity.

Accessibly written while buttressed with solid scholarship, this fine book also includes many illuminating illustrations, mainly portraits of Baisao and his distinctive tea equipment by artists such as Ike Taiga and Ito Jakuchu. All in all, then, it's a definitive treatment. If you've ever wondered who this wonderfully oddball guy is, what answers there are will be found here. And for anyone interested in Kyoto, Tokugawa cultural history, and the fringes of Zen Buddhism, this book will prove an eye-opener indeed. Highly recommended.

Norman Waddell has done a remarkable job. He has reconstructed the life-story of the 18th-century monk Baisao, which was previously unclear. He has translated his letters, other texts and above all the poems with great sensitivity. He has provided detailed as well as more general notes on a great variety of topics, enabling the reader to grasp the context in which the master lived and wrote and (above all) sold tea to support himself in his old age. This book brings to life a remarkable figure who, by his inner freedom, resisted the intensely conformist society of his time and indicated that Buddhist practice is a challenging way of life that must not be reduced to mere esthetics. Truly a rewarding book to read!

Part of this book is a translation of the short Chinese-styled poems and prose by Baisao as well as a biographical sketch by one of his contemporaries. The author, in the first half of the book, creates a tapestry of Baisao's life from various primary sources including letters to friends and students, official documents and the works of Baisao himself. Interspersed with paintings and calligraphy from Baisao and his contemporaries, a full view of this character from 18th century Kyoto emerges. In a time when Japanese Zen was becoming more and more dogmatic as well as state-sanctioned - Baisao's wit and home-spun but learned wisdom must have been a delightful change from the rigid monasteries of the day.

The first part of this book traces Baisao's transformation from novice to monk and then from master to impoverished old tea seller. After a long stint as an Zen monk in a temple in southern Japan, Baisao left for Kyoto, a city he visited in his youth, to live the actual practice of Zen. Zen as it exists for the great Ch'an masters of the past; free from the confines of temple bureaucracy and stale dogma. Adopting the dress of a Chinese sage (a Crane Cloak), he opened a small tea shop (aptly labeled Tsusen-tei - "the shop that conveys you to Sagehood") and eventually adopted a lay-lifestyle of making a meager living (largely donations to keep from starving) through the sale of tea and occasional calligraphy.

An enigmatic character of the time, Baisao had strong opinions of Zen practice and its place in 18th century Japanese society. Rather than conform to the limits set by monastic rules, Baisao lived a life that was largely scorned during the time period - A tea-seller (I liken it to living as a hot-dog vendor in Philly). But rather than the mindless hawking of hot flavored water, the old tea seller intuitively weaves his Zen koan training into every cup brewed and verse set to paper. Far beyond the tea-mongers or tea-aficionados of the day - Baisao takes the enjoyment of a cup of tea into a realm of mental fortitude and soulful clarity. Tea will never provide the enlightenment but an enlightened man can surely pour you a cup, providing a small moment of satori that drifts off as the cup reaches its end.

Baisao lived the life of a nonconformist who embraced a working life of poverty rather than a monk's life of begging or temple work. He shrugged off the robes of the priest as just another attachment. He became a destination himself, just like the scenic temples and groves that he set up his brazier and banner. He spanned the purgatory that lies between monk and layperson, practitioner and vagrant. His colorful life straddled the gray area that exists in our practice.

His verse moves simply and crisply without subjecting itself to needless explanation or expression. It is simple and direct but forces the reader to think and ponder - linked to the koans he trained with - Baisao's verse requires us to ponder to gain wisdom.

I moved this morning

to the center of town

waist deep in worldly dust

but free of worldly ties.

I wash my robe and bowl

in the Kamo's pure stream

the moon a perfect disc

rippling its watery mind.

Baisao lived a simple life in a remarkable way. For a generation of practitioners who struggle with the application of Zen practice into the daily grind of 9-5 workloads and pressing family matters, Baisao provides with a simple remedy that I gleamed from his words. Don't press Zen into your life or try to mold it. Drop a few leaves of it into your daily life and let it simmer. The movement and turbulence will not cease, nor will it ever, but the flavor will be much more wonderful and the taste subtle.

Cheers, my friends! We all balance on the fringe of practice. Baisao provides us with the fuel to move past rigor and dogma and seamlessly blend our life and our living together. It is one thing to be able to label and describe that tea you are sipping (or beer you are guzzling), it is a completely different thing to savor that drink wordlessly...thoughtlessly.

* In the interest of full disclosure, I was sent a copy of this book, for free, from the publisher to write about it. I probably would have gotten a copy of this book regardless; I would have ordered it from my public library and thus gotten it free anyway. And I don't think getting a free copy of the book from the publisher really changed my opinion of it, beyond a tiny feeling of obligation to say something -- anything -- about it on my blog. Regardless, however, it really is a very good book for the reasons outlined above. if I were to dislike this book, for whatever reason, I would have stated it and given an explanation why. Now, if the publishers were to have provided me with a pony or llama, they would have gotten a better review (can you review a llama?). Maybe even a smiley face.

You don't have to appreciate tea to appreciate this book. This is a collection of translated poems and stories from old Kyoto teahouses of the 17th and 18th century. For those into poetry and zen philosophy then please look into this book. The language is wonderful and the translation is magnificent. These stories and poems take the reader to a time when life was slower and there was no 'larger world'.

I recommend you brew a pot of tea (or other relaxing beverage) and read a few pages. It is a pleasant and soothing experience.