Customer Reviews

Sand and Pebbles (Shasekishu): The Tales of Muju Ichien, A Voice for Pluralism in Kamakura Buddhism (SUNY Series in Buddhist Studies)

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Authors of books with specialized academic focus are well-aware that they can never hope to reach an audience of more than a couple thousand. However interesting the subject matter, distribution is often too small to attract the attention of even local reviewers, let alone the large national printing enterprises. And however many readers may be completely satisfied with such a book, very few will decide to write a review for it.

Probably for this reason, Amazon provides authors an opportunity to say a few words in their own behalf. Here are mine.

1."Sand and Pebbles (Shasekishu)" (1985) is the first of what can be seen as a coherent trilogy. It has never been reviewed on Amazon.com -- but it has been favorably reviewed elsewhere. It is the parent of what follows.

2. "Early Kamakura Buddhism: a Minority Report" (1987). 5 star review.

3. "Zen Sanctuary of Purple Robes:
Japan's Tokeiji Convent Since 1285" (2006). 5 star review.

Is Buddhism a dull religion? Sometimes it might seem so even to the most enthusiastic Buddhologist after trudging through the umpteenth dryly recondite explication, and as often as not Zen Buddhism comes across as especially austere. As it turns out, though, this has more to do with presentation than fact, as the Kamakura-era Zen monk Muju Ichien's "Sand & Pebbles" makes abundantly clear. As entertainingly lively as it is squarely within the Buddhist tradition proper, this hodgepodge assortment of pious and not-so-pious tales makes reevaluating everything we ever thought about Buddhism way too much fun.

The tales are so random as to almost defy classification. Miraculous tales pitching the sacred power of Buddhist deities and funny anecdotes about a lecturer whose sermons are too long and boring both find a place here, and that goes for deeply reasoned theories on the Buddhist value of poetry, comic sketches involving mischievous temple pages and hypocritical Vinaya masters, and bizarre legends of humorously eerie spirit possessions as well. And so on and so forth. There's method to the madness, though, as Muju Ichien's purpose as a storyteller throughout is to illustrate key object lessons in the sincere practice of Buddhism in a manner appropriate to his intended audience.

Robert Morrell's translation of this important text is dependably commendable, combining expert scholarly precision with fluid readability--with a proper bit of emphasis on the former. That is, rather than dumbing down the prose and colloquializing it in a jarringly 20th-century fashion, he invites the reader to meet Muju Ichien halfway in order to enjoy this work. His compromise decision to fully translate some passages and summarize the rest also makes sense as a plausible alternative to creating an unwieldy tome--especially seeing as Muju tends to ramble on like a favorite eccentric uncle sometimes. The factors justifying full translation are on the whole clearly justifiable, sometimes just because of the inherent interest of the story but often because something significant within the story unexpectedly gives us a flash of insight into the Buddhism of Muju's day in Japan, normally even challenging our presuppositions in the process.

In this vein, the first section (fully translated) stands out as a vividly eloquent and coherent discourse demonstrating the complex religious logic underlying the incorporation of native Japanese deities into Buddhism's overall system. Muju Ichien also shakes up our stereotypes of Rinzai Zen as being all pared-down monochrome koan meditation and gives the lie to the still lingering notion that the new-fangled exclusivist single-practice schools were the only show in town during the Kamakura period. The picture we get here instead is a lot more complicated and realistic, and yet a lot more intriguing and approachable--not to mention endearingly earthy and crass on occasion.

This book is a total package, too. Morrell's painstakingly pieced-together biography of Muju Ichien himself is a gem of academic care, and his reconstruction of Muju's medieval Japanese Buddhist worldview reliably and succinctly encapsulates and clarifies a complex matrix of material all too easily muddled or else all too conveniently if unhelpfully ignored. Several useful appendices also address Muju's two very different Tokugawa-era biographers, Muju's interweaving web of Buddhist affiliations, and his situatedness within the social context of what is now present-day Nagoya. In terms of Buddhist Studies, Japanese Literature, and Medieval Social History, then, this fine book is an essential classic delightfully masquerading as a diamond in the rough.