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Essays in Idleness: and Hojoki
Written sometime between 1330 and 1332, the Essays in Idleness, with their timeless relevance and charm, hardly mirror the turbulent times in which they were born. Despite the struggle between the Emperor Go-Daigo and the usurping Hojo family that rocked Japan during these years, the Buddhist priest Kenko found himself "with nothing better to do, jotting down at random whatever nonsensical thoughts have entered my head." The resulting essays, none of them more than a few pages in length and some consisting of but two or three sentences, treat a great variety of subjects in a congenial, anecdotal style. Kenko clung to tradition, Buddhism, and the pleasures of solitude, and the themes he treats are all suffused with an unspoken acceptance of Buddhist beliefs. Above all, Kenko gives voice to a distinctively Japanese aesthetic that beauty is bound to perishability.
206 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1212
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About the author
Yoshida Kenkō
42 books88 followersYoshida Kenkō (吉田 兼好, 1283? – 1350?) was a Japanese author and Buddhist monk. His most famous work is Tsurezuregusa (Essays in Idleness), one of the most studied works of medieval Japanese literature. Kenko wrote during the Muromachi and Kamakura periods.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 124 reviews
January 8, 2022
Introduction & Notes, by Meredith McKinney
Further Reading
Note on the Translation & Notes
Kamo no Chōmei
--Hōjōki
Yoshida Kenkō
--Essays in Idleness
Map
Timeline of Emperors
Notes
Further Reading
Note on the Translation & Notes
Kamo no Chōmei
--Hōjōki
Yoshida Kenkō
--Essays in Idleness
Map
Timeline of Emperors
Notes
November 3, 2014
I haven't read all that much east Asian prose, but I'm starting to suspect that I might over-identify with the overlooked-sensitive-and-ironic-scholar who is unable to find a position in the bureaucracy or hierarchy. Chomei's 'Hojoki' is a charming little piece about living the simple life and so on, but rather undermined by the fact that, in order to live the simple life, you have to be independently wealthy. Kenko's 'Essays,' on the other hand, are an absolute delight. There's nothing I like quite so much as people who are willing to hold their own most deeply held beliefs to the standards of their beliefs--here, that leads to 'kill the buddha' kind of things. I also like people who:
* like autumn rather than spring.
* pay attention to language.
* say things like "the testament to our birth in the human realm should be a strong urge to escape from this world. Surely there can be nothing to distinguish us from the beasts if we simply devote ourselves to greed."
* or "things that are not unpleasant in large amounts are books on a book cart, and rubbish on a rubbish heap."
* or "the best things are those that have a somewhat antique air, are unpretentious and are inexpensive but well made."
* or "if you run about the streets pretending to be a madman, then a madman is what you are."
* or "it is cruel to make people suffer and drive them to break the law, then treat the poor creatures as criminals."
* or "Phenomena and their essence are intrinsically one."
* list all the terrible consequences of drinking for a few pages... then say there's nothing quite so pleasant as drinking with a friend.
* being very intelligent, are aware of their own limitations, but do not therefore consider themselves to be as bad as everyone else.
If the world were rather more full of Kenkos, I'd be much happier in it.
* like autumn rather than spring.
* pay attention to language.
* say things like "the testament to our birth in the human realm should be a strong urge to escape from this world. Surely there can be nothing to distinguish us from the beasts if we simply devote ourselves to greed."
* or "things that are not unpleasant in large amounts are books on a book cart, and rubbish on a rubbish heap."
* or "the best things are those that have a somewhat antique air, are unpretentious and are inexpensive but well made."
* or "if you run about the streets pretending to be a madman, then a madman is what you are."
* or "it is cruel to make people suffer and drive them to break the law, then treat the poor creatures as criminals."
* or "Phenomena and their essence are intrinsically one."
* list all the terrible consequences of drinking for a few pages... then say there's nothing quite so pleasant as drinking with a friend.
* being very intelligent, are aware of their own limitations, but do not therefore consider themselves to be as bad as everyone else.
If the world were rather more full of Kenkos, I'd be much happier in it.
May 24, 2019
What a strange demented feeling it gives me when I realize that I have spent whole days before this inkstone, with nothing better to do, jotting down at random whatever nonsensical thoughts have entered my head.
*
Are we to look at cherry blossoms only in full bloom, the moon only when it is cloudless? To long for the moon while looking on the rain, to lower the blinds and be unaware of the passing of the spring - these are even more deeply moving. Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with flowers are worthier of our admiration.
May 11, 18
*
Are we to look at cherry blossoms only in full bloom, the moon only when it is cloudless? To long for the moon while looking on the rain, to lower the blinds and be unaware of the passing of the spring - these are even more deeply moving. Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with flowers are worthier of our admiration.
May 11, 18
February 5, 2015
I had read Hojoki before but I read it again anyway, it's really short and touching. Essays in Idleness was good, it was lighter than what I expected, amusing stories, conversations he had with people, buddhist stuff, etc. Two great works in one book, worth it.
November 15, 2021
3.5 stars.
While I nevertheless enjoyed reading both Hojoki and Essays in Idleness, I can't help but feel that I missed out on a lot which has been lost in translation. Penguin compensates for this by putting in a great list of notes, but it's not the same.
Some of the stories made me laugh, inspired me and/or carried me away to a magnificent ancient Japan which no longer exists. I can only help but wonder how much stronger those experiences would be if I could read it in its original language one day.
While I nevertheless enjoyed reading both Hojoki and Essays in Idleness, I can't help but feel that I missed out on a lot which has been lost in translation. Penguin compensates for this by putting in a great list of notes, but it's not the same.
Some of the stories made me laugh, inspired me and/or carried me away to a magnificent ancient Japan which no longer exists. I can only help but wonder how much stronger those experiences would be if I could read it in its original language one day.
September 13, 2018
Essay 75
"I wonder what feelings inspire a man to complain of "having nothing to do." I am happiest when I have nothing to distract me and I am completely alone.
If a man conforms to society, his mind will be captured by the filth of the outside world, and he is easily led astray; if he mingles in society, he must be careful that his words do not offend others, and what he says will not at all be what he feels in his heart. He will joke with others only to quarrel with them, now resentful, now happy, his feelings in constant turmoil. Calculations of advantage will wantonly intrude, and not a moment will be free from considerations of profit and loss. Intoxication is added to delusion, and in a state of inebriation the man dreams. People are all alike: they spend their days running about frantically, oblivious to their insanity."
"I wonder what feelings inspire a man to complain of "having nothing to do." I am happiest when I have nothing to distract me and I am completely alone.
If a man conforms to society, his mind will be captured by the filth of the outside world, and he is easily led astray; if he mingles in society, he must be careful that his words do not offend others, and what he says will not at all be what he feels in his heart. He will joke with others only to quarrel with them, now resentful, now happy, his feelings in constant turmoil. Calculations of advantage will wantonly intrude, and not a moment will be free from considerations of profit and loss. Intoxication is added to delusion, and in a state of inebriation the man dreams. People are all alike: they spend their days running about frantically, oblivious to their insanity."
January 8, 2017
Really enjoyable and pleasant. A few simple stories stuck with me and I think they are the most universal in humanity, rather than epic tales such as in religious books or fiction.
Chomei living in the woods and walking around with the woods wardens 10 year old son and though 50 years separates them, they are able to enjoy the same pleasures.
Kenko is just an overall doofus.
Chomei living in the woods and walking around with the woods wardens 10 year old son and though 50 years separates them, they are able to enjoy the same pleasures.
Kenko is just an overall doofus.
December 11, 2017
3.75 stars
These two-prose works “Essays in Idleness” by Yoshida Kenko and “Hojoki” (Record of a Ten-foot-Square Hut) by Kamo no Chomei would, I think, be a delight to those seeking solace or inspiration from their Mahayana Buddhist, hermit-like views in which they have long meant to share their initiatives, ideas and opinions as the voices from medieval Japan to his readers. Interestingly, “Hojoki” is the first work presented in the book followed by “Essays in Idleness” and I wonder if this new translation is more or less readable so my Goodreads friends are welcome to compare its first paragraph:
a) By Meredith McKinney
On flows the river ceaselessly, nor does its water ever stay the same. The bubbles that float upon its pools now disappear, now form anew, but never endure long. And so it is with people in this world, and with their dwellings.
b) By A. L. Sadler (Tuttle 1972)
Ceaselessly the river flows, and yet the water is never the same, while in the still pools shifting foam gathers and is gone, never staying for a moment. Even so is man and his inhabitation.
Incidentally, I have long encountered the word 'idleness' in various essays but I usually conclude that it seemingly denotes retirement or laxity. I liked Samuel Johnson's advice, "If you are idle, be not solitary; if you are solitary, be not idle" due to its practicality. Then many years ago I came across a 15-essay book entitled, "In Praise of Idleness" (Routledge 2007) by Bertrand Russell and wondered what and why he would narrate on this ambiguous topic in 15 pages. In fact, the title comes from the first essay written in 1932. So it would be a good idea to read to compare idleness as viewed by Yoshida Kenko and Bertrand Russell.
In “Hojoki”, I think it should be a good idea to quote a few extracts from Kamo no Chomei so that we better understand him:
i) His initiative:
[In fact, on this page, there is a sketch of his hut with different parts, for instance, verandah, bracken for bedding, awning, etc.]
ii) His idea:
iii) His opinion:
Comparatively, readers can enjoy reading "Hojoki" in one sitting due to its 14 pages but they need time and motivation for 243 "Essays in Idleness" since each essay's content varies from a few lines to three pages, for example:
These two-prose works “Essays in Idleness” by Yoshida Kenko and “Hojoki” (Record of a Ten-foot-Square Hut) by Kamo no Chomei would, I think, be a delight to those seeking solace or inspiration from their Mahayana Buddhist, hermit-like views in which they have long meant to share their initiatives, ideas and opinions as the voices from medieval Japan to his readers. Interestingly, “Hojoki” is the first work presented in the book followed by “Essays in Idleness” and I wonder if this new translation is more or less readable so my Goodreads friends are welcome to compare its first paragraph:
a) By Meredith McKinney
On flows the river ceaselessly, nor does its water ever stay the same. The bubbles that float upon its pools now disappear, now form anew, but never endure long. And so it is with people in this world, and with their dwellings.
b) By A. L. Sadler (Tuttle 1972)
Ceaselessly the river flows, and yet the water is never the same, while in the still pools shifting foam gathers and is gone, never staying for a moment. Even so is man and his inhabitation.
Incidentally, I have long encountered the word 'idleness' in various essays but I usually conclude that it seemingly denotes retirement or laxity. I liked Samuel Johnson's advice, "If you are idle, be not solitary; if you are solitary, be not idle" due to its practicality. Then many years ago I came across a 15-essay book entitled, "In Praise of Idleness" (Routledge 2007) by Bertrand Russell and wondered what and why he would narrate on this ambiguous topic in 15 pages. In fact, the title comes from the first essay written in 1932. So it would be a good idea to read to compare idleness as viewed by Yoshida Kenko and Bertrand Russell.
In “Hojoki”, I think it should be a good idea to quote a few extracts from Kamo no Chomei so that we better understand him:
i) His initiative:
This house looks quite unlike a normal one. It has a mere ten feet square, and less than seven feet high. Since I was not much concerned about where I lived, I did not construct the house to fit the site. I simply set up a foundation, put up a bit of a roof and fastened each joint with a metal catch, so that if I didn’t care for one place I could easily move to another. Just how much trouble would it be to rebuild, after all? The house would take a mere two cartloads to shift, and the only expense would be the carrier. (p. 13)
[In fact, on this page, there is a sketch of his hut with different parts, for instance, verandah, bracken for bedding, awning, etc.]
ii) His idea:
I do not make claims for these pleasures to disparage the rich. I am simply comparing my past life with my present one. The Triple World is solely Mind. Without a peaceful mind, elephants, horses and the seven treasures are worthless things, palaces and fine towers mean nothing. (p. 17)
iii) His opinion:
Yes, take it for all in all, this world is a hard place to live, and both we and our dwellings are fragile and impermanent, as these events reveal. And besides, there are the countless occasions when situation or circumstance cause us anguish.
Imagine you are someone of no account, who lives next to a powerful man. There may be something that deeply delights you, but you cannot go ahead and express your joy. If something has brought you terrible grief, you cannot raise your voice and weep. You worry over your least action and tremble with every move you make, like a sparrow close to a falcon’s nest. . . . (p. 11)
Comparatively, readers can enjoy reading "Hojoki" in one sitting due to its 14 pages but they need time and motivation for 243 "Essays in Idleness" since each essay's content varies from a few lines to three pages, for example:
17 [This number in fact should be in the middle]
When you are on a retreat at a mountain temple, concentrating on your devotions, the hours are never tedious, and the heart feels cleansed and purified. (p. 29)
238
The imperial guard Chikatomo once drew up a list of seven things in his own praise. They were all to do with the art of horsemanship, and not particularly impressive. This precedent encourages me to make my own list of seven.
. . .
But I subsequently heard that that night at the temple a fine lady had spied me from where she was seated behind her screen. She spruced up her gentle woman prettily and sent her off to me. 'With luck,' she said, 'you'll be able to speak to him. Come back and tell me what he was like. This should be fun.' it had apparently all been planned. (pp. 135-137)
March 24, 2017
How do you rate essays written by Buddhist monks from the 11th and 12th centuries? The first of these, "Hojoki" is a short meditative piece about the decision to become a monk and to live in seclusion, and the internal struggle of living within the Way. As an essay, it's much more successful than "Essays in Idleness" -- it's concise and moving. "Essays in Idleness" is a much more sprawling work, which covers living as a monk and living a secluded life, but also discusses everything from courtly manners to garden design. Some of the sections aren't interesting or are too esoteric for the Western reader, but many paint a vivid picture of life in the 12th century courts, and for that alone, they're entertaining to read.
May 29, 2022
“Things of which it is good to see plenty:
Books in a book-case.
Dust in a dust heap.”
There is a wealth of good advice that has not aged since it was written.
Books in a book-case.
Dust in a dust heap.”
There is a wealth of good advice that has not aged since it was written.
March 1, 2018
Writing this, I realize that all this has already been spoken of long ago in The tale of Genji and The Pillow Book — but that is no reason not to say it again. After all, things thought but left unsaid only fester inside you. So I let my brush run on like this for my own foolish solace; these pages deserve to be torn up and discarded, after all, and are not something others will ever see. —Kenkō, Essay 19
...but it is above all the sensitivity to beauty and refinement of the old culture that embodies all things good for Kenkō. —From the Introduction
Chōmei's summary of the progress of his own life, from the fine mansion of his youth through a series of diminishing houses to the tiny 'brief dwelling' of his few final years, traces a trajectory that mirrors his slow realization of the truth of impermanence...As that end approaches with the end of Hōjōki itself, even this hut is cast away at the realization of the necessity of non-attachment, the lesson that lies behind the sermon preached by this work. —From the Introduction
__________
I knew nothing about these two works other than their titles, so I was pleasantly surprised when I thought they were much better than anything I was expecting.
The first work, Hōjōki by Chōmei, is a beautiful short work (~15pp) reflecting on the author's life, impermanence, and his commitment to Buddhism.
The second work, Essays in Idleness by Kenkō, are a series of 243 essays about all manner of subjects. Some of his favourite subjects are philosophy, aesthetics, anecdotes, and observations of people's behaviours. They show great variety, and range from lighthearted to more serious topics, and are incredibly easy to read.
The translations by Meredith McKinney are excellent, and rendered into a beautiful English.
(In fact, I discovered that the translator, Meredith McKinney, translated The Pillow Book by Sei Shōnagon for Penguin, and after comparing her translation with a copy that I own translated by Ivan Morris, I bought the former straight away and will definitely be reading from her translation.)
May I suggest reading this with some calm, atmospheric music that transports you to the heights of a Japanese Mountain playing queitly in the background, as I did?
I'm all for total immersion when experiencing a piece of art, and I don't usually listen to music whilst reading (usually rain/fire/ocean sounds), but I think Skyrim Atmospheres by Jeff Beal was a great match with these works.
__________
On flows the river ceaselessly, nor does its water ever stay the same. the bubbles that float upon its pools now disappear, now form anew, but never endure long. And so it is with people in this world, and with their dwellings. —Hōjōki
And so it is with the pelasures of seclusion. Who but one who lives it can understand its joys? —Hōjōki
How could I waste my days like this, describing useless pleasures? —Hōjōki
What happiness to sit in intimate conversation with someone of like mind, warmed by candid discussion of the amusing and fleeting ways of this world . . . but such a friend is hard to find, and instead you sit there doing your best to fit in with whatever the other is saying, feeling deeply alone. —Essay 12
It is a most wonderful comfort to sit alone beneath a lamp, book spread before you, and commune with someone from the past whom you have never met. —Essay 13
Some of today's poems could be said to achieve a nice turn of phrase here and there, but somehow they just do not have the old poetry's subtle flavour of feeling that resonates beyond words. —Essay 14
At times of quiet contemplation, my one irresistible emotion is an aching nostalgia for all things past. —Essay 29
The place is large, with an ancient grove of trees, and cherry blossoms drift down in the garden —Essay 43
There are endless examples of something that attaches itself to another, eats away at it and harms it. A body has fleas. A house has rats. A nation has robbers. A lesser man has wealth. An honourable man has moral imperatives. A monk has the Buddhist Law. —Essay 97
If you wish to follow the Buddhist Way, you should simply retire and make time in your life, and not let your mind dwell on worldly matters. This is the most important thing. —Essay 98
If you wish to be better than others, you should aim to excel them through study; by pursuing truth, you will learn not to take pride in your virtues or compete with others, It takes the strength conferred by study to enable you to relinquish high office and to turn your back on gain. —Essay 130
The man of quality never appears entranced by anything; he savours things with a casual air. —Essay 137
When people get together, they are never silent for a moment. They will always talk. When you listen to what they say, a great deal of it is pointless. —Essay 164
There is so much talking when people get together. It is exhausting, disturbs the mind and wastes time better spent on other things. —Essay 170
Remember, the Buddha teaches that those who lift the wine glass either to their own lips or to others' will spend five hundred lifetimes without hands. —Essay 175
As a rule, people should display no learning or art. —Essay 232
May 22, 2025
Cảm giác bình yên dễ chịu tràn ngập khắp thân tâm khi đọc cuốn sách này. Thích kiểu văn chương tình thâm nhược đạm này quá đi mất.
Như mình giờ đây tâm lý yếu nhìn xã hội thấy địa ngục quá chừng, nhưng đọc sách thời trước thấy con người giai đoạn nào cũng khủng hoảng cả. Sáng nay mình đọc sách tiểu sử về Đàm Huy Khúc cũng y vậy, ở ngay Việt Nam mình, trong 100 năm đổ lại đây. Thiên tai, dịch bệnh, chiến tranh,... bao nhiêu thứ kinh khủng nhưng rồi cũng bể dâu, sống là qua.
Đoạn sau trên núi thì đẹp xúc động ghê. Đúng lúc mình cũng đang muốn làm cái am nhỏ xíu sống với sông núi cây cỏ hihi nhưng chưa đạt level như ông này được. Nhiều người cũng chê trách ông này là sống lánh đời nọ kia. Lánh đời chưa bao giờ là quan điểm của Phật giáo, chính ông ấy cũng nhận ra như vậy. Nhưng con người, trong giai đoạn đầu tu, tâm yếu ớt như người bệnh, tìm về nơi dưỡng thương, đặng khỏe thì hòa lại với đời như dòng nước mới được. Chứ yếu sao dám ra gió ;)) Tóm lại đi chậm, từ từ nhưng không dừng là được =))
Mình đọc bản dịch của Nguyễn Nam Trân. Tuyệt vời hay.
Như mình giờ đây tâm lý yếu nhìn xã hội thấy địa ngục quá chừng, nhưng đọc sách thời trước thấy con người giai đoạn nào cũng khủng hoảng cả. Sáng nay mình đọc sách tiểu sử về Đàm Huy Khúc cũng y vậy, ở ngay Việt Nam mình, trong 100 năm đổ lại đây. Thiên tai, dịch bệnh, chiến tranh,... bao nhiêu thứ kinh khủng nhưng rồi cũng bể dâu, sống là qua.
Đoạn sau trên núi thì đẹp xúc động ghê. Đúng lúc mình cũng đang muốn làm cái am nhỏ xíu sống với sông núi cây cỏ hihi nhưng chưa đạt level như ông này được. Nhiều người cũng chê trách ông này là sống lánh đời nọ kia. Lánh đời chưa bao giờ là quan điểm của Phật giáo, chính ông ấy cũng nhận ra như vậy. Nhưng con người, trong giai đoạn đầu tu, tâm yếu ớt như người bệnh, tìm về nơi dưỡng thương, đặng khỏe thì hòa lại với đời như dòng nước mới được. Chứ yếu sao dám ra gió ;)) Tóm lại đi chậm, từ từ nhưng không dừng là được =))
Mình đọc bản dịch của Nguyễn Nam Trân. Tuyệt vời hay.
February 12, 2024
yoshida kenko.. I was unfamiliar with ur game.. wish it had stayed that way... idk who convinced u that ur dick is huge and that ur balls weight a ton but they lied to you badly, you will NEVER be sei shonagon FUCK YOU!!
Read
August 12, 2022Why should you buy this book? To learn something unique about Japanese culture from the perspective of Buddhism, and perhaps gain a new perspective on how to lead a good life and to value it, while also remembering that death is always lurking around, and that happiness is ephemeral.
Also to get a low-key introductory course to Buddhism if you're so inclined to try it.
If that's not your kind of thing, move on.
The beauty of this edition lies in the apparent contrast between Hōjōki's sense of isolation, and Essays in Idleness's advice on leading a satisfactory life in community. However, the latter in many ways encourages intellectual isolation and disregard for materialism, which are some of the precepts of Buddhism.
Worry not, this book will not convert you into a Buddhist, unless you're willing, but it certainly does a great job tantalizing you with the idea, especially Essays in Idleness that imparts wisdom with ease. One thing I did take from this book is a great deal of teachings that are relevant in today's social landscape, and I hope to apply at least half of them.
Reading this reminded me a lot of how people seek guidance in the Bible, and while I have many problems with that book and the damage it has brought about to the world, at least this book offers guidance without implicitly promoting hatred, and it's way shorter and less preachy since it does not pretend to offer any truths about the world, just about the human condition and that we will certainly die.
Also to get a low-key introductory course to Buddhism if you're so inclined to try it.
If that's not your kind of thing, move on.
The beauty of this edition lies in the apparent contrast between Hōjōki's sense of isolation, and Essays in Idleness's advice on leading a satisfactory life in community. However, the latter in many ways encourages intellectual isolation and disregard for materialism, which are some of the precepts of Buddhism.
Worry not, this book will not convert you into a Buddhist, unless you're willing, but it certainly does a great job tantalizing you with the idea, especially Essays in Idleness that imparts wisdom with ease. One thing I did take from this book is a great deal of teachings that are relevant in today's social landscape, and I hope to apply at least half of them.
Reading this reminded me a lot of how people seek guidance in the Bible, and while I have many problems with that book and the damage it has brought about to the world, at least this book offers guidance without implicitly promoting hatred, and it's way shorter and less preachy since it does not pretend to offer any truths about the world, just about the human condition and that we will certainly die.
July 11, 2017
4.5 stars. This was the full version of "A Cup of Sake Beneath the Cherry Trees" by Kenko and contained a few more observations of humans and nature, it was still enjoyable the second time around. Hojoki was a very short text by Chomei about living a secluded life and reevaluating your standards. It seemed like he was okay with that way of living until the very end when he kind of wondered why he did this to himself. I felt bad for him in the end.
September 12, 2021
Hojoki - 5/5 (awesome)
Essays in Idleness - 2/5
rounding down average cause I didn't really like essays all that much.
It felt like Hojoki was more thoughtful and impactful while Essays in Idleness were more like passing thoughts. Most of those thoughts weren't all that interesting or thought provoking. Not sure why Essays is considered a classic maybe its beyond me.
Essays in Idleness - 2/5
rounding down average cause I didn't really like essays all that much.
It felt like Hojoki was more thoughtful and impactful while Essays in Idleness were more like passing thoughts. Most of those thoughts weren't all that interesting or thought provoking. Not sure why Essays is considered a classic maybe its beyond me.
August 31, 2014
"It is most wonderful comfort to sit alone beneath a lamp, book spread before you, and commune with someone from the past whom you have never met." This is a book of indelible expressions and images to savor, sip by sip, over the course of several days. Delightful.
July 24, 2017
This book--"Essays in Idleness" and "Hojoki", by the medieval Japanese monks Yoshida Kenko and Kamo no Chomei, sensitively translated by Australian scholar Meredith McKinney--details the spiritual journeys of two men who 'took the tonsure', shaved their heads in the Buddhist monastic tradition, living lives of poverty, poetry, reflection, and relative seclusion.
Chomei retired later in life, after a series of crises. He studies the world through the window of architecture: cities, towns, homes, and lives, ravaged by natural, political, and personal disaster. He gives the exact dimensions of the portable cabin he builds as his retreat. He tells us precisely where things are placed, how the moon looks from his window, and describes his bed of bracken inside, and the arrangement of stones beneath a bamboo pipette outside, and how they are all related. Apart from that little bit of plumbing, H.D. Thoreau's experimental abode at Walden Pond seems like a clapboard Versailles stuffed with modern luxuries and conveniences by comparison.
Chomei's primary theme is the mutability of fortunes and the impermanence of all things and learning how to live with change, spiritually. "Hojoki" shows how impermanence creates not only beauty, but lends all that is transitory a permanent and poignant magnificence by virtue of its fragility: which he powerfully illustrates in person, in a moment of what Aristotle might have called "anagnorisis" in the concluding four paragraphs of this brief, intensely intimate and powerful 18 page self-portrait.
Kenko entered the priesthood in his 20s and never fully abandoned his ties to the city. "Essays In Idleness" is less a coherent statement of belief than a collection of 243 vignettes, canny, clever, and often profound, on a wide range of topics--stories, earthy trivia, nostalgia, moralia, precepts, advice and admonitions, and philosophical reflections. Here are a few examples of his work that I copied into my journal, that I simply can't summarize:
20: A certain recluse monk once remarked, "I have relinquished all that ties me to the world, but the one thing that still haunts me is the beauty of the sky." I can quite see why he would feel this.
29: How melancholy to think that your own familiar things, too, will remain in existence down the years to come, indifferent and unchanged.
137: Should we look at the spring blossoms in full flower or the moon only when cloudless and clear? To long for the moon with the rain before you, or to lie curtained in your room while the spring passes unseen, is yet more poignant and deeply moving.
149: One shouldn't put new [powdered, I expect] deer antler to the nose and sniff it. There is a tiny insect in it that will enter through the nose and devour the brain.
166: The way people struggle to get along in the world strikes me as like fashioning a buddha from snow on a spring day, decking it out with precious metals and jewels, then setting out to build a worship hall for it. Would it survive long enough to be placed in the finished hall? So many strive in hopes of the future, even as the life still in them is daily dissolving away like snow beneath the snowman.
The peripatetic and poetical nature of these little essays (which owe a considerable debt to the lavish lists and loose literary structure of Sei Shonagan's Heian Era masterpiece, "The Pillow Book," which Kenko alludes to frequently) is delightful: in the same discursive way that a tipsy walk home with an intimate friend might be at midnight, parting at some curious intersection, somewhere, to go your own separate ways, for all you really know, forever, even unto eternity.
"Essays In Idleness" differs from "Hojoki" in that it is less overtly ascetic, and places more value on the fleeting pleasures of the moment, more fully enjoyed, I think, because of their intrinsic perishability. Yet, like "Hojoki," there is the same emphasis on the illusory nature of duration and durability of these moments in the world of time and the moral problem that both pleasure and beauty create for us 'sub specie aeternitatis,' to borrow one of Baruch Spinoza's favorite phrasings.
The writing is clear, concise, surprisingly detailed and fresh in feel, for being nearly 1000 years old. I would recommend this book to anyone troubled by our turbulent present. Not those looking to flee it--for there is no escape, of course, as both Chomei and Kenko, despite their differences in approach, both emphasize. However, if you are seeking a strategy for looking at passing events, personal or political, through the open window of experience--say, at the battered but beautiful face of our faithful celestial companion, the moon--in the rustling leaves of these ancient books, closer at hand, you might find the first stirrings of some remarkable insights of your own.
Chomei retired later in life, after a series of crises. He studies the world through the window of architecture: cities, towns, homes, and lives, ravaged by natural, political, and personal disaster. He gives the exact dimensions of the portable cabin he builds as his retreat. He tells us precisely where things are placed, how the moon looks from his window, and describes his bed of bracken inside, and the arrangement of stones beneath a bamboo pipette outside, and how they are all related. Apart from that little bit of plumbing, H.D. Thoreau's experimental abode at Walden Pond seems like a clapboard Versailles stuffed with modern luxuries and conveniences by comparison.
Chomei's primary theme is the mutability of fortunes and the impermanence of all things and learning how to live with change, spiritually. "Hojoki" shows how impermanence creates not only beauty, but lends all that is transitory a permanent and poignant magnificence by virtue of its fragility: which he powerfully illustrates in person, in a moment of what Aristotle might have called "anagnorisis" in the concluding four paragraphs of this brief, intensely intimate and powerful 18 page self-portrait.
Kenko entered the priesthood in his 20s and never fully abandoned his ties to the city. "Essays In Idleness" is less a coherent statement of belief than a collection of 243 vignettes, canny, clever, and often profound, on a wide range of topics--stories, earthy trivia, nostalgia, moralia, precepts, advice and admonitions, and philosophical reflections. Here are a few examples of his work that I copied into my journal, that I simply can't summarize:
20: A certain recluse monk once remarked, "I have relinquished all that ties me to the world, but the one thing that still haunts me is the beauty of the sky." I can quite see why he would feel this.
29: How melancholy to think that your own familiar things, too, will remain in existence down the years to come, indifferent and unchanged.
137: Should we look at the spring blossoms in full flower or the moon only when cloudless and clear? To long for the moon with the rain before you, or to lie curtained in your room while the spring passes unseen, is yet more poignant and deeply moving.
149: One shouldn't put new [powdered, I expect] deer antler to the nose and sniff it. There is a tiny insect in it that will enter through the nose and devour the brain.
166: The way people struggle to get along in the world strikes me as like fashioning a buddha from snow on a spring day, decking it out with precious metals and jewels, then setting out to build a worship hall for it. Would it survive long enough to be placed in the finished hall? So many strive in hopes of the future, even as the life still in them is daily dissolving away like snow beneath the snowman.
The peripatetic and poetical nature of these little essays (which owe a considerable debt to the lavish lists and loose literary structure of Sei Shonagan's Heian Era masterpiece, "The Pillow Book," which Kenko alludes to frequently) is delightful: in the same discursive way that a tipsy walk home with an intimate friend might be at midnight, parting at some curious intersection, somewhere, to go your own separate ways, for all you really know, forever, even unto eternity.
"Essays In Idleness" differs from "Hojoki" in that it is less overtly ascetic, and places more value on the fleeting pleasures of the moment, more fully enjoyed, I think, because of their intrinsic perishability. Yet, like "Hojoki," there is the same emphasis on the illusory nature of duration and durability of these moments in the world of time and the moral problem that both pleasure and beauty create for us 'sub specie aeternitatis,' to borrow one of Baruch Spinoza's favorite phrasings.
The writing is clear, concise, surprisingly detailed and fresh in feel, for being nearly 1000 years old. I would recommend this book to anyone troubled by our turbulent present. Not those looking to flee it--for there is no escape, of course, as both Chomei and Kenko, despite their differences in approach, both emphasize. However, if you are seeking a strategy for looking at passing events, personal or political, through the open window of experience--say, at the battered but beautiful face of our faithful celestial companion, the moon--in the rustling leaves of these ancient books, closer at hand, you might find the first stirrings of some remarkable insights of your own.
July 31, 2016
Two books combined so two short reviews: Both are interesting because they provide the perspective of medieval Japan, both written by Buddhist monks, both different in viewpoint since Hojoki is about withdrawing from society, while Essays in Idleness is more about what's going on in society, both often focusing on the impermanence of life - death is always there:
Hojoki is a very short memoir of Chomei, who built himself a tiny hut in the forest to live out his life. Essays in Idleness is about 200 short aphorisms and stories written by Kenko about all kinds of things, sometimes pertaining to Imperial life in the 14th century, sometimes about Buddhism, sometimes about life and love.
Compare how withdrawn Hojoki is:
with the more worldly Essays:
Hojoki is concentrated and short and great - the Essays are more fun exactly because they're so random and all over the place, with content like what direction a particular Chinese temple pointed at, 'don't sniff antlers because there's bugs there that eat your brain', the nature of thoughts:
or stories from the Imperial household, how to behave in certain cituations (don't you dare come down from your horse to deliver Imperial edicts!), jokes that are so obscure they need footnotes longer than the jokes and even then the footnotes boil down to 'this plays on homophones in old Japanese, please laugh', Chinese poetry, Japanese poetry, etc. pp. Exactly because the Essays are so random and short is what allows them to encompass so much of medieval Japanese society.
That's it, now go to sleep!
Be they young, be they strong, the time of death comes upon all unawares. It is an extraordinary miracle that we have escaped it until now.
Hojoki is a very short memoir of Chomei, who built himself a tiny hut in the forest to live out his life. Essays in Idleness is about 200 short aphorisms and stories written by Kenko about all kinds of things, sometimes pertaining to Imperial life in the 14th century, sometimes about Buddhism, sometimes about life and love.
Compare how withdrawn Hojoki is:
The hermit crab prefers a little shell for his home. He knows what the world holds. The osprey chooses the wild shoreline, and this is because he fears mankind. And I too am the same. Knowing what the world holds and its ways, I desire nothing from it, nor chase after its prizes. My one craving is to be at peace, my one pleasure to live free of troubles.
with the more worldly Essays:
If you can never liner beneath the clouded moon on a plum-scented evening, nor find yourself recalling the dawns when you made your way home through the dew-soaked grasses by her gate after a night of love, you had best not aspire to be a lover at all.
Hojoki is concentrated and short and great - the Essays are more fun exactly because they're so random and all over the place, with content like what direction a particular Chinese temple pointed at, 'don't sniff antlers because there's bugs there that eat your brain', the nature of thoughts:
The emptiness of space allows it to contain things. The fact that thoughts can come crowding into our mind at will must mean that 'mind' is actually an empty space too. If someone were really in residence there, it would surely not be invaded by all these thoughts.
or stories from the Imperial household, how to behave in certain cituations (don't you dare come down from your horse to deliver Imperial edicts!), jokes that are so obscure they need footnotes longer than the jokes and even then the footnotes boil down to 'this plays on homophones in old Japanese, please laugh', Chinese poetry, Japanese poetry, etc. pp. Exactly because the Essays are so random and short is what allows them to encompass so much of medieval Japanese society.
That's it, now go to sleep!
May 27, 2021
In a way, it feels as if this is considered a classic simply because it has been preserved through hundreds of years. That is quite the feat for writing. But that doesn't make it good.
I picked this up based on one comment the author made. He said the best time is reading under the lamp and getting to know new friends from decades earlier. What an amazing thought, that the characters in a book are new friends. I thought this one quote would be part of other amazing quotes on reading.
No. This is a collection of a monk's thoughts as he lived his life. He's ornery. He's classist. He's bitchy. He complains about people he perceives as lower caste than him or how people more higher rank than him treat him. He has some wonderful insights into the life in 13th Century Japan and how traditions were passed down via court. I often wished I could sit in his garden at night and look up. What would the sky have looked like? He's very enamored with night.
These aren't "essays" as I would describe them. They are snippets of thoughts and many are one to two sentences. Don't read this for earthshaking philosophical insights. There aren't any and, as I read into later pages, I found myself annoyed with his extremely narrow viewpoint on ideas. If you have an interest in ancient literature, or feudal life, or early Japanese life, it's worth a read. Otherwise, I wouldn't recommend this for the casual reader.
I picked this up based on one comment the author made. He said the best time is reading under the lamp and getting to know new friends from decades earlier. What an amazing thought, that the characters in a book are new friends. I thought this one quote would be part of other amazing quotes on reading.
No. This is a collection of a monk's thoughts as he lived his life. He's ornery. He's classist. He's bitchy. He complains about people he perceives as lower caste than him or how people more higher rank than him treat him. He has some wonderful insights into the life in 13th Century Japan and how traditions were passed down via court. I often wished I could sit in his garden at night and look up. What would the sky have looked like? He's very enamored with night.
These aren't "essays" as I would describe them. They are snippets of thoughts and many are one to two sentences. Don't read this for earthshaking philosophical insights. There aren't any and, as I read into later pages, I found myself annoyed with his extremely narrow viewpoint on ideas. If you have an interest in ancient literature, or feudal life, or early Japanese life, it's worth a read. Otherwise, I wouldn't recommend this for the casual reader.
February 19, 2018
The name essays in idleness reminded me of Halls of Uselessness, and I dived in to find idle but illuminated thoughts on numerous topics. I was rewarded. Not only is this book a very good insight into traditional Japanese and Buddhist thinking, it recounts many idle tales, gives nuggets of wisdom, summarises books read by the author, compares ways of life and also points a way to what the writer think is the right way. A few phrases which struck me as particularly appealing:
“People seem to be drawn to pursue precisely those things that are quite unrelated to their normal life”
“The way people struggle to get along in the world strikes me as like fashioning a Buddha from snow on a spring day, decking it out with precious metals and jewels, then setting out to build a worship hall for it. Would it survive Long enough to be placed in the finished hall?”
A little word on the initial piece Hojoki - a meditation on one’s dwelling and an ascetic way of life. It seems to stand in contrast to Kenko’s essays which deliberate on the beauty of the current moment while being aware of its transience. Needless to say, I enjoyed the latter mor thoroughly
“People seem to be drawn to pursue precisely those things that are quite unrelated to their normal life”
“The way people struggle to get along in the world strikes me as like fashioning a Buddha from snow on a spring day, decking it out with precious metals and jewels, then setting out to build a worship hall for it. Would it survive Long enough to be placed in the finished hall?”
A little word on the initial piece Hojoki - a meditation on one’s dwelling and an ascetic way of life. It seems to stand in contrast to Kenko’s essays which deliberate on the beauty of the current moment while being aware of its transience. Needless to say, I enjoyed the latter mor thoroughly
May 25, 2024
Like Sei Shonagon's Pillow-Book - another classic of Japanese diary writing - Yoshida Kenko's "Essays in Idleness" is news that stays news. Singular, timeless images - a child singing in the snow; a lover traipsing through dew-drenched fields at dawn; a horseback rider falling from his saddle - stick with me. So does the author's overt humanity. Hard enough to imagine an Aurignacian culture flourishing some 35,000 years ago; even 700 years boggle the mind. But Yoshida Kenko thought like we do, contradicted himself like we do, and expressed himself with as much beauty and sensitivity as anyone at any period. His sensibility is astoundingly "modern" - but, perhaps if we had access to more documents like this one - honest, unselfconscious portraits of an age and its sensibility - we'd find this modernity burning as far back as our writing does. 6 stars to crown the green dome of Buddha's skull.
April 10, 2014
it is lovely to find yourself agreeing with someone who wrote in about 1330. I love how he says drinking is the worst vice of all and then goes on to describe how lovely it is to share sake with a good friend by moonlight.
November 11, 2017
"Yes, one way or another, this world is full of lies. The only safe approach is to react to everything you hear as completely normal and unremarkable."
Read
June 7, 2024bury me with the copy of the Hojoki
December 19, 2021
I noted down my favourite passages from this book and I figured I could share for those who might be interested. The numbers behind the passages from Hōjōki refer to the pages of this edition. The passages in Essays in Idleness are numbered in the book too, so those numbers refer to that, not the page. I thought many of these passages were quite remarkable, and many reminded me of other quotes from other writers I like and who are modern and Western. I find that cool; at the end of the day we're all quite similar. Anyway, here are (most of) my favourite passages and excerpts from these two delightful works:
Hōjōki:
And if the mood is still upon me, often I play to the sough of the wind in the pines the piece called ‘Autumn Wind Music’, or ‘Flowing Spring’ to the murmur of running water. My skill is poor, but then I do not aim to please the ears of others. I play alone, I sing alone, simply for my own fulfilment. (15)
Knowing what the world holds and its ways, I desire nothing from it, nor chase after its prizes. My one craving is to be at peace, my one pleasure to live free of troubles. (16)
People who cultivate friendships prize men with wealth, and prefer those who are eager to please. They do not always cherish friends who are loving, or pure of heart. Best by far is the company of flute and strings, and of the flowers and moon. Servants and retainers crave endless rewards, and love a master who showers them with favours. They have no interest in affectionate concern or a calm and peaceful life. Better far to be your own servant. How? If something needs doing, use yourself to do it. It may be tiring, but it is easier than employing another and troubling yourself over him. If you need to go somewhere, walk yourself. You may grow weary, but better far than worrying over horse and saddle, oxen and cart. (17)
Essays in Idleness:
What happiness to sit in intimate conversation with someone of like mind, warmed by candid discussion of the amusing and fleeting ways of this world … but such a friend is hard to find, and instead you sit there doing your best to fit in with whatever the other is saying, feeling deeply alone.
There is some pleasure to be had from agreeing with the other in general talk that interests you both, but it’s better if he takes a slightly different position from yours. ‘No, I can’t agree with that,’ you’ll say to each other combatively, and you’ll fall into arguing the matter out. This sort of lively discussion is a pleasant way to pass the idle hours, but in fact most people tend to grumble about things different from oneself, and though you can put up with the usual boring platitudes, such men are far indeed from the true friend after your own heart, and leave you feeling quite forlorn. (12)
It is a most wonderful comfort to sit alone beneath a lamp, book spread before you, and commune with someone from the past whom you have never met. (13)
At times of quiet contemplation, my one irresistible emotion is an aching nostalgia for things past.
Everyone is hushed and sleeping, and you are beguiling yourself through the long night hours by tidying away this and that, discarding bits of used writing paper you don’t want to keep, when you come upon a page that someone long since dead has used for writing practice or to sketch something, and you suddenly feel yourself back inside that moment. Even if it is a long-ago letter from someone still alive, it is moving to ponder when and in what year you received it.
How melancholy to think that your own familiar things, too, will remain in existence down the years to come, indifferent and unchanged. (29)
Kinyo no Nii had an elder brother called Abbot Ryogaku, who was very hot-tempered.
A large hackberry tree grew alongside his hut, so people called him ‘the Hackberry Priest.’ Offended by this, he cut the tree down. The stump was left, so he was then called ‘the Stump Priest.’ This made him angrier still, and he dug the stump out, leaving a large hole that filled with water. So then everyone called him ‘the Ditch Priest.’ (45)
Things that are not unpleasant in large amounts are books in a book cart, and rubbish on a rubbish heap. (72)
It is truly impressive to speak only reluctantly about something you thoroughly understand, and not to mention it at all unless asked. (79)
In all things, perfect regularity is tasteless. Something left not quite finished is very appealing, a gesture towards the future. Someone told me that even in the construction of the imperial palace, some part is always left uncompleted. (82)
I still remember with awe hearing a holy man declare that in his opinion those who devote themselves day in day out to playing go or sugoroku are committing a sin more heinous than the Four Transgressions or the Five Wickednesses. (111)
Overall, it must be said that those who kill or harm living creatures, or set them up to fight each other for their own pleasure, are no better than wild beasts themselves. If you pause and look carefully at the birds and animals, and even the little insects, you will see that they love their children, feel affection for their parents, live in couples, are jealous, angry, full of desire, self-protecting and fearful for their lives, and far more so than men, since they lack all intelligence. Surely one should pity them when they are killed or made to suffer? If you can look on any sentient being without compassion, you are less than human. (128)
Are the blossoms and the moon merely things to be gazed at with the eye? No, it brings more contentment and delight to stay inside the house in spring and, there in your bedroom, let your heart go out to the unseen moonlit night. (137)
Rather than seizing thieves and punishing their crimes, it would be better to make the world a place where people did not go hungry or cold. A man without stable means is a man whose heart is unstable. People steal from extremity. There will be no end to crime while the world is not governed well, and men suffer from cold and starvation. It is cruel to make people suffer and drive them to break the law, then treat the poor creatures as criminals. (142)
A person who mingles with skilled practitioners while he himself is still inexpert, and isn’t ashamed of their ridicule and laughter but calmly and devotedly perseveres in his practice even if he has no special gift, will continue to progress and not grow lax with the passing years, and will finally outdo the man of talent who lacks dedication. He will attain mastery in his art, continue to increase his skill and gain an unequalled reputation in his field. (150)
It is a virtue in a man to be humble about his own merits and not vie with others. A sense of superiority to others is very wrong. One who considers himself superior through birth, skill, or eminent forebears, even if he never expresses this, is full of error in his heart. One should take care to put such things out of one’s mind. There is nothing like pride for making a man look a fool, provoking criticism from others and inviting disaster. One truly skilled in his art will be all too aware of his own faults and thus never satisfied with himself, which means he will never be proud. (167)
Generally speaking, even though you may know a great deal, if you go around parading it people will doubt that you are as good as you make out. Besides, one inevitably makes mistakes. The man who claims not to really understand is more likely to be thought a true master of his art. (168)
It is very nice when a friend simply drops in, has a quiet talk with you, and then leaves. It is also wonderfully pleasing to receive a letter that simply begins, ‘I write because it’s been some time since I sent news,’ or some such. (170)
You can decide to do something today, but before you manage it some unexpected and urgent business will arise to overwhelm your plan for the day, or the person you are waiting for is unable to come, or someone unexpected arrives, or something you were relying on turns out differently, so that the only things that go well are things you hadn’t anticipated. Matters that threatened to be difficult prove easy, while those that should be straightforward turn out to cause you great pains. The progress of each passing day is quite unlike your anticipation of it. And the same goes for a year – and for a life.
Yet, if you assume that everything you anticipate will go awry, you find that in fact some things don’t, which makes it all the more difficult to plan. The only certain truth to learn is that all is uncertain. (189)
An ignorant person will always be wrong when he sizes up another and believes he can judge the other’s intelligence.
It is a grave mistake for a foolish fellow who has to his credit the single fact that he is very good at the art of go, to decide that an intelligent man who happens to have no skill at go is therefore his intellectual inferior, or for someone skilled in any of the crafts to think himself superior because others do not understand his specialty. (193)
If you wish to be free of fault in all matters, be sincere in whatever you do, polite to all, and speak little. Beauty of speech leaves a beguiling and unforgettable impression; this holds for everyone, man or woman, young or old, but particularly for the young and attractive. All faults derive from making oneself out to be an expert and at ease with things, being smug, and despising others. (233)
The year I turned eight, I asked my father, ‘What sort of thing is a buddha?’
‘A buddha is what a human becomes,’ he replied.
‘How does a human become a buddha?’ I asked.
‘You become a buddha by following the Buddha’s teaching,’ he answered.
‘So who taught the Buddha?’ I asked.
‘He became a buddha by following the teaching of previous buddhas,’ he said.
‘So what sort of buddha was the first one who began the teaching? I asked.
My father laughed and replied, ‘I suppose he just fell from the sky like rain or rose out of the earth like water.’
He used to enjoy recounting this story to others, adding, ‘He had me cornered. I couldn’t think what to reply.’ (243)
Hōjōki:
And if the mood is still upon me, often I play to the sough of the wind in the pines the piece called ‘Autumn Wind Music’, or ‘Flowing Spring’ to the murmur of running water. My skill is poor, but then I do not aim to please the ears of others. I play alone, I sing alone, simply for my own fulfilment. (15)
Knowing what the world holds and its ways, I desire nothing from it, nor chase after its prizes. My one craving is to be at peace, my one pleasure to live free of troubles. (16)
People who cultivate friendships prize men with wealth, and prefer those who are eager to please. They do not always cherish friends who are loving, or pure of heart. Best by far is the company of flute and strings, and of the flowers and moon. Servants and retainers crave endless rewards, and love a master who showers them with favours. They have no interest in affectionate concern or a calm and peaceful life. Better far to be your own servant. How? If something needs doing, use yourself to do it. It may be tiring, but it is easier than employing another and troubling yourself over him. If you need to go somewhere, walk yourself. You may grow weary, but better far than worrying over horse and saddle, oxen and cart. (17)
Essays in Idleness:
What happiness to sit in intimate conversation with someone of like mind, warmed by candid discussion of the amusing and fleeting ways of this world … but such a friend is hard to find, and instead you sit there doing your best to fit in with whatever the other is saying, feeling deeply alone.
There is some pleasure to be had from agreeing with the other in general talk that interests you both, but it’s better if he takes a slightly different position from yours. ‘No, I can’t agree with that,’ you’ll say to each other combatively, and you’ll fall into arguing the matter out. This sort of lively discussion is a pleasant way to pass the idle hours, but in fact most people tend to grumble about things different from oneself, and though you can put up with the usual boring platitudes, such men are far indeed from the true friend after your own heart, and leave you feeling quite forlorn. (12)
It is a most wonderful comfort to sit alone beneath a lamp, book spread before you, and commune with someone from the past whom you have never met. (13)
At times of quiet contemplation, my one irresistible emotion is an aching nostalgia for things past.
Everyone is hushed and sleeping, and you are beguiling yourself through the long night hours by tidying away this and that, discarding bits of used writing paper you don’t want to keep, when you come upon a page that someone long since dead has used for writing practice or to sketch something, and you suddenly feel yourself back inside that moment. Even if it is a long-ago letter from someone still alive, it is moving to ponder when and in what year you received it.
How melancholy to think that your own familiar things, too, will remain in existence down the years to come, indifferent and unchanged. (29)
Kinyo no Nii had an elder brother called Abbot Ryogaku, who was very hot-tempered.
A large hackberry tree grew alongside his hut, so people called him ‘the Hackberry Priest.’ Offended by this, he cut the tree down. The stump was left, so he was then called ‘the Stump Priest.’ This made him angrier still, and he dug the stump out, leaving a large hole that filled with water. So then everyone called him ‘the Ditch Priest.’ (45)
Things that are not unpleasant in large amounts are books in a book cart, and rubbish on a rubbish heap. (72)
It is truly impressive to speak only reluctantly about something you thoroughly understand, and not to mention it at all unless asked. (79)
In all things, perfect regularity is tasteless. Something left not quite finished is very appealing, a gesture towards the future. Someone told me that even in the construction of the imperial palace, some part is always left uncompleted. (82)
I still remember with awe hearing a holy man declare that in his opinion those who devote themselves day in day out to playing go or sugoroku are committing a sin more heinous than the Four Transgressions or the Five Wickednesses. (111)
Overall, it must be said that those who kill or harm living creatures, or set them up to fight each other for their own pleasure, are no better than wild beasts themselves. If you pause and look carefully at the birds and animals, and even the little insects, you will see that they love their children, feel affection for their parents, live in couples, are jealous, angry, full of desire, self-protecting and fearful for their lives, and far more so than men, since they lack all intelligence. Surely one should pity them when they are killed or made to suffer? If you can look on any sentient being without compassion, you are less than human. (128)
Are the blossoms and the moon merely things to be gazed at with the eye? No, it brings more contentment and delight to stay inside the house in spring and, there in your bedroom, let your heart go out to the unseen moonlit night. (137)
Rather than seizing thieves and punishing their crimes, it would be better to make the world a place where people did not go hungry or cold. A man without stable means is a man whose heart is unstable. People steal from extremity. There will be no end to crime while the world is not governed well, and men suffer from cold and starvation. It is cruel to make people suffer and drive them to break the law, then treat the poor creatures as criminals. (142)
A person who mingles with skilled practitioners while he himself is still inexpert, and isn’t ashamed of their ridicule and laughter but calmly and devotedly perseveres in his practice even if he has no special gift, will continue to progress and not grow lax with the passing years, and will finally outdo the man of talent who lacks dedication. He will attain mastery in his art, continue to increase his skill and gain an unequalled reputation in his field. (150)
It is a virtue in a man to be humble about his own merits and not vie with others. A sense of superiority to others is very wrong. One who considers himself superior through birth, skill, or eminent forebears, even if he never expresses this, is full of error in his heart. One should take care to put such things out of one’s mind. There is nothing like pride for making a man look a fool, provoking criticism from others and inviting disaster. One truly skilled in his art will be all too aware of his own faults and thus never satisfied with himself, which means he will never be proud. (167)
Generally speaking, even though you may know a great deal, if you go around parading it people will doubt that you are as good as you make out. Besides, one inevitably makes mistakes. The man who claims not to really understand is more likely to be thought a true master of his art. (168)
It is very nice when a friend simply drops in, has a quiet talk with you, and then leaves. It is also wonderfully pleasing to receive a letter that simply begins, ‘I write because it’s been some time since I sent news,’ or some such. (170)
You can decide to do something today, but before you manage it some unexpected and urgent business will arise to overwhelm your plan for the day, or the person you are waiting for is unable to come, or someone unexpected arrives, or something you were relying on turns out differently, so that the only things that go well are things you hadn’t anticipated. Matters that threatened to be difficult prove easy, while those that should be straightforward turn out to cause you great pains. The progress of each passing day is quite unlike your anticipation of it. And the same goes for a year – and for a life.
Yet, if you assume that everything you anticipate will go awry, you find that in fact some things don’t, which makes it all the more difficult to plan. The only certain truth to learn is that all is uncertain. (189)
An ignorant person will always be wrong when he sizes up another and believes he can judge the other’s intelligence.
It is a grave mistake for a foolish fellow who has to his credit the single fact that he is very good at the art of go, to decide that an intelligent man who happens to have no skill at go is therefore his intellectual inferior, or for someone skilled in any of the crafts to think himself superior because others do not understand his specialty. (193)
If you wish to be free of fault in all matters, be sincere in whatever you do, polite to all, and speak little. Beauty of speech leaves a beguiling and unforgettable impression; this holds for everyone, man or woman, young or old, but particularly for the young and attractive. All faults derive from making oneself out to be an expert and at ease with things, being smug, and despising others. (233)
The year I turned eight, I asked my father, ‘What sort of thing is a buddha?’
‘A buddha is what a human becomes,’ he replied.
‘How does a human become a buddha?’ I asked.
‘You become a buddha by following the Buddha’s teaching,’ he answered.
‘So who taught the Buddha?’ I asked.
‘He became a buddha by following the teaching of previous buddhas,’ he said.
‘So what sort of buddha was the first one who began the teaching? I asked.
My father laughed and replied, ‘I suppose he just fell from the sky like rain or rose out of the earth like water.’
He used to enjoy recounting this story to others, adding, ‘He had me cornered. I couldn’t think what to reply.’ (243)
March 31, 2019
In the reading group I have been part of this school year, I've been confronted with several classic works by ancient thinkers and authors that I'd never read before--Zhuang Zhi, for example, for Plotinus. But none have I enjoyed as much as these sets of essays by two Buddhist monks from 12th and 13th-century Japan. Rather than works of scholarships, these works reflect the studied--sometimes sober, sometimes wise, sometimes rueful or laugh-at-loud funny--observations of two very different men, who nonetheless shared a great deal in common, the primarily similarity being that the "took the tonsure," as it is expressed in present-day English, and entered a life of celibacy and withdrawal, so as to better devote themselves to the Buddhist way. (Though Buddhists, the writings of both of these individuals regularly reflect the deep influence of both Daoist thinking and the Confucian classics.)
The older of them, Kamo No Chomei, took the notion of withdrawal to the extreme, and wrote his essay--usually known as "Hojoki"--from the ten-foot square hut he built for himself in a remote, wooded hillside, where he lived the last decade or more of his life in almost total isolation. Hojoki is a brilliant bit of writing, at turns sad, thoughtful, and inspiring. Chomei is terribly honest and serious about his own struggles and doubts, about the joys he finds in solitude and the losses which embracing solitude involves. This translation called me back constantly to other beautiful, reflective works of being alone in nature, whether Thoreau's "Walden" or W.B. Yeats's "Lake Isle of Innisfree." I am definitely going to return to this essay again in the future. "Essays in Idleness," by Yoshida Kenko, who lived a later and more involved life than Chomei, is a much more occasional work; it is made up of hundreds of scattered observations--some deep, some silly--about the life that he saw around him in the monastery, at the Japanese court, and most importantly, of the countryside and the people who lived there. While not as powerful (to me, anyway) as Chomei's work, and sometimes a little repetitive, this was a great book to read nonetheless, one filled with weird, insightful observations about a world long lost. Anyway, these two works together make a short book to read, but a valuable one nonetheless.
The older of them, Kamo No Chomei, took the notion of withdrawal to the extreme, and wrote his essay--usually known as "Hojoki"--from the ten-foot square hut he built for himself in a remote, wooded hillside, where he lived the last decade or more of his life in almost total isolation. Hojoki is a brilliant bit of writing, at turns sad, thoughtful, and inspiring. Chomei is terribly honest and serious about his own struggles and doubts, about the joys he finds in solitude and the losses which embracing solitude involves. This translation called me back constantly to other beautiful, reflective works of being alone in nature, whether Thoreau's "Walden" or W.B. Yeats's "Lake Isle of Innisfree." I am definitely going to return to this essay again in the future. "Essays in Idleness," by Yoshida Kenko, who lived a later and more involved life than Chomei, is a much more occasional work; it is made up of hundreds of scattered observations--some deep, some silly--about the life that he saw around him in the monastery, at the Japanese court, and most importantly, of the countryside and the people who lived there. While not as powerful (to me, anyway) as Chomei's work, and sometimes a little repetitive, this was a great book to read nonetheless, one filled with weird, insightful observations about a world long lost. Anyway, these two works together make a short book to read, but a valuable one nonetheless.
September 3, 2019
This collection includes the work of two medieval Japanese Buddhist monks, one a very short essay at the beginning, the latter a longer, diary-like account. The beginning essay, Hojoki, is a kind of Thoreau-like account of life in a small ten-foot-square hut the author built to live in peaceful and serene retreat from society. The Essays in Idleness that follow are an eclectic compilation of observations on Buddhism, nature, aesthetics, anecdotes about the lives of prominent people of the day, and even quasi-scholarly notes on spelling and orthography. I didn't find it to be life-changing reading, but the Buddhist content felt very relatable to me since I've been been thinking a lot anyway about anti-consumerist, pro-nature, environmentalist ideas; and I like the philosophical reminders about how life is fleeting and we always need to bear in mind how transitory and fragile its pleasures are. Also, there's nothing like reading primary texts of this sort to feel transported to a faraway time and place, so it was a pleasure to linger over the pages, even the ones where the author gets into very obscure questions of court etiquette and the like. Somehow it made for very soothing reading.
March 1, 2020
My edition was published in the 60's and only contains, "Essays in Idleness," so my review is reflective of those essays only.
At the beginning, I found the book quite enjoyable. Filled with some words of wisdom and ideas to contemplate. I especially loved #9, which discussed the beauty of uncertainty and #12, which had vivid imagery of the changing seasons. There were also a few passages about inevitable mortality which were interesting.
Then, however, I was met with some rambling stories and the unfortunate passage #107, which stated that "women are all perverse by nature. They are deeply self-centered [...] devoid of all susceptibility to reason [...] women are devious but stupid [...] even if such a thing as an intelligent woman existed, she would surely be aloof."
Now, that was insulting enough but I decided to keep reading, in hope of some kind of 'enlightenment.' Alas, such enlightenment never came. The majority of these essays are ramblings of stories that are either pointless, or used for Kenkō to look down on the young and 'foolish.' I'm surprised such an arrogant writer has received so many good reviews and shocked to discover that a monk held so much contempt for others. If you're looking for a book on "Buddhist truths," look elsewhere.
At the beginning, I found the book quite enjoyable. Filled with some words of wisdom and ideas to contemplate. I especially loved #9, which discussed the beauty of uncertainty and #12, which had vivid imagery of the changing seasons. There were also a few passages about inevitable mortality which were interesting.
Then, however, I was met with some rambling stories and the unfortunate passage #107, which stated that "women are all perverse by nature. They are deeply self-centered [...] devoid of all susceptibility to reason [...] women are devious but stupid [...] even if such a thing as an intelligent woman existed, she would surely be aloof."
Now, that was insulting enough but I decided to keep reading, in hope of some kind of 'enlightenment.' Alas, such enlightenment never came. The majority of these essays are ramblings of stories that are either pointless, or used for Kenkō to look down on the young and 'foolish.' I'm surprised such an arrogant writer has received so many good reviews and shocked to discover that a monk held so much contempt for others. If you're looking for a book on "Buddhist truths," look elsewhere.
March 9, 2017
Wonderful! Simple but poignant. Hojoki is short. An essay by a Buddhist monk concerning the simplicity of his hut. Essays in Idleness is delightful. To entice a future reader, here's an example: "If you can never linger beneath the clouded moon on a plum-scented evening, nor find yourself recalling the dawns when you made your way home through the dew-soaked grasses by her gate after a night of love, you had best not aspire to be a lover at all."
Priceless.
Priceless.
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