My personal canon of 108 best books (5) - "Kyoto: A Contemplative Guide" by Gouverneur Mosher

It seems to be out of print now, but perhaps it will bounce back as it has done so many times since it was first published in 1964: Gouverneur Mosher's Kyoto: A Contemplative Guide. This was my first guide to Kyoto when I arrived there as foreign exchange student of Kyoto University in 1982. There were very few guidebooks at that time (no Lonely Planet, no Rough Guide, no Gateway to Japan!) and Mosher's book stood out because of its high quality. I devoured the book and enthousiastically visited all the places he describes, even little Shinsen-en, the pond that is a small remnant of the original Heian palace gardens. I fell in love with Kyoto.

"I first came to Sakamoto on a quiet, mid-winter morning whose low sun was badly weakened by the haze over Lake Biwa." (Mosher on Enryakuji)

Since then, I have read the book several times from cover to cover, for it is more than a guide: the first half of the book is a history of Kyoto, told imaginatively around the temples Mosher wants to introduce (and although there are now other popular histories of Kyoto that reflect recent scholarship, as John Dougill's Kyoto, A Cultural History, I remain fond of Mosher's Kyoto). The second part contains detailed descriptions of these temples, with loving attention to art works; and the (shortest) third part is a travel guide, the only part of the book now outdated as Kyoto has changed much and tourism also. One nice point here is Mosher's advocacy of Kyoto's streetcar system, an elegant traffic solution much better than the stinking cars and buses that now clog the streets of the Old Capital.

"Here, in the depths of the mountaintop, is Saicho's tomb, standing alone wiith graceful dignity in a quiet, hidden hollow." (Mosher on Enryakuji)

Mosher delves into Kyoto's rich history, not only with contemplation, but also a sense of sadness at the list of cruelties and follies that human history inevitably is. He writes about the mighty monastery that Enryakuji on Mt Hiei once was, before Nobunaga crushed the power of the monks, and also about the rise of Amida Buddhism in Sanzenin in Ohara. The great Fujiwara clan is treated in the chapter on Byodoin, the Phoenix Hall in Uji.

"Truly, this is a building with wings, lighter than the air in which it floats [...] He (the Buddha Amida) is there inside this magical, floating building, looking in upon himself." (Mosher on Byodoin)

In Jakkoin, also in Ohara, he meditates on the fall of the Taira family. Chapter Seven, Anrakuji and Honenin, tells about the early persecution of Pure Land Buddhism. The Zen sect is treated in the chapter in Daitokuji. Ginkakuji serves to highlight the (mis-)rule of the Ashikaga clan, in Ryoanji he meditates upon the terrible Onin war and the destruction of virtually the whole of Kyoto. In Daigoji and Sanboin Mosher tells about Toyotomi Hideyoshi, Nijo Castle serves as a stage for the story of the Tokugawa.

"It is said that Nijo's garden was originally laid out without trees so that the shogun would not be saddened by the sight of the passing seasons." (Mosher on Nijo Castle)

Nice is also the inclusion of Nijo Jinya, an inn for feudal lords south of Nijo castle. He rounds off with Kiyomizudera, as the "All-Time Temple", although historically it should have come at the beginning of the book, for it preceded the founding of Kyoto.

"A deep ravine that works in through densely overgrown hills crowding close on all sides. On the slope... sits the little Tendai nunnery called Jakko-in." (Mosher on jakko-in)

As Mosher admits in his preface, he had to leave out many great temples for reasons of space: Nishi-Honganji, Chionin, Nanzenin, Tenryuji... He also leaves out the Shinto shrines, something he justifies by saying that Kyoto was a city dominated by Buddhism. That may be true, but Shinto (either allied with Buddhism in joint facilities like Gion/Yasaka or not) still played an important role - read the Genji Monogatari and you realize the popularity of the Shimogamo and Kamigamo Shrines and their festival. The Matsuo shrine played an important role in sake brewing, the Inari shrine predated the founding of the city.

"The old housekeeper at Anrakuji welcomes the rare visitor to her temple enthousiastically, for she has a fine story to tell, and the opportunity to tell it comes seldom indeed." (Mosher on Anrakuji)

The better the book, the more you miss temples that have not been included. I miss my favorite Shisendo, which Mosher calls "too special", but it could have been used to write about the life of Sinified intellectuals in the 17th century. Rakushisha in Sagano could have served as the pillar for an essay about haiku culture in Kyoto. Rokuharamitsuji would have made a great chapter about Taira Kiyomori (whose statue stands in the temple)... Kyoto's history is rich indeed; I very much would have liked to read what Mosher has to say about these and other interesting places.

In other words, Mosher should have written a second volume...

What is your favorite book about Kyoto?

P.S. My edition carries a reproduction of a beautiful woodblock print by the late Clifton Karhu on the cover.

Kyoto: A Contemplative Guide by Gouverneur Mosher, 14th printing, Charles E. Tuttle, 1992 (1st printing 1964, I have the 5th printing of 1982)

A German diplomat in Japan

Ottmar von Mohl (1846-1922) was a German diplomat who from 1887 to 1889 was advisor of the Japanese government. Together with his wife, a countess, he was stationed with the Imperial Household Ministry to introduce European court ceremonials and protocol to the new Meiji court. In 1904 he wrote a book about his experiences in Japan, called Am Japanishen Hofe (At the Japanese Court). If you read German, you can enjoy it here. The same website also hosts parts of Von Siebold's monumental Nippon (also in German). I would like to see more writings of early Western visitors to Japan on the internet... such as the diaries of Morse, etc. - surely these are rights-free by now?

My personal canon of 108 best books (4) - "The Elephant Vanishes" by Murakami Haruki

It is time for a modern writer and we start with Murakami Haruki. I have been reading his books since the early eighties, from the first novels Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball 73. I bought the Japanese pocketbook-size Kodansha translations by Alfred Birnbaum (for Japanese learners of English), and at the same time read both novels in Japanese as well. That was not too difficult, as Murakami especially in his early work does not use too many literary expressions or esoteric vocabulary. Next I went on to the early stories, several of which have been included in The Elephant Vanishes, and the novel A Wild Sheep Chase.

This "early Murakami" is still my favorite Murakami. There is a naturalness and spontaneity that (in my view) has been lost in the later novels. I don't mind the loose ends and open endings of these early works, on the contrary, that is what makes them so interesting. Plus of course the humor! Murakami has a very particular style, which is impossible to translate literally. All three translators (Alfred Birnbaum, Jay Rubin and Philip Gabriel) have their own way of rendering Murakami in English, but nothing is better than the real stuff in Japanese. When you are studying Japanese, I suggest that you have a try - these early works form an excellent start.

The Elephant Vanishes contains stories that were originally published in several early collections (and before collection, often in magazines). Murakami’s first collection of stories in Japanese was Slow Boat to China (1983), of which the following stories were included:

- "A slow Boat to China." The narrator ("Boku, "I") has three meetings with different Chinese, which all leave him with a certain feeling of guilt, especially when he puts a Chinese girlfriend on the wrong train (she will think he did it on purpose). By the way, Murakami is very popular in China.

- "The Kangaroo Communique." A weird story about a young man in the claims department of a department store, who starts writing a sort of love letter to a woman who has complained.

- "The Last Lawn of the Afternoon" The narrator has been mowing people's lawns during his summer holidays. When mowing his last lawn at the end of the vacation, he meets a mysterious woman who shows him the empty room of her daughter.

The second Japanese collection was A Perfect Day for Kangaroos (1983). The title story would be included in the later collection of translations Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. In The Elephant Vanishes we have:


- "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning" A perfect small fantasy about what you will (not?) do when you happen to meet the perfect girl...

- "A Window". A writing teacher from a correspondence school visits one of his pupils, a married woman in her early 30's, but they realize they cannot connect and end up only listening to Burt Bacharach.

The third collection in Japanese is Firefly, Barn Burning and Other Stories (1984). The Elephant Vanishes contains:

- "Barn Burning" The narrator loses his girlfriend to a cool guy whose hobby is burning barns.

- "The Dancing Dwarf" Features a dancing dwarf who takes over your soul, but also describes a very efficient elephant factory (yes, a factory where real living elephants are manufactured).

Next comes Dead Heat on a Merry-go-round (1985), of which was included the story

- "Lederhosen" When a Japanese middle-aged woman on a trip to Europe decides to buy a pair of "Lederhosen" for her husband at home, and has somebody who resembles him (fat, white skin) try them on, she suddenly realizes how much she hates her husband.

In 1986 the collection The Second Bakery Attack was published, of which the following stories were included in The Elephant Vanishes:

- "The Second Bakery Attack" A young married couple robs a McDonald's of 30 Big Macs because the man once failed in a bakery attack and the newly-wed wife feels this loose end can not be left dangling - that would put a curse on their marriage.

- "The Elephant Vanishes" An old elephant disappears, together with his keeper, from a small local zoo; the narrator wants to connect with a new girlfriend, but the memory of the vanished elephant pulls them apart.

- "A Family Affair" The narrator lives together with his sister, and is troubled when she brings home a boyfriend.

- "The Fall of the Roman Empire, the 1881 Indian Uprising, Hitler's Invasion of Poland, and the Realm of Raging Winds" The narrator uses world events to note down bland daily events in his diary.

- "The Wind-up Bird And Tuesday's Women" The narrator searches for a missing cat and after passing through a closed-off alley between backyards, encounters a sunbathing girl. After a lazy conversation he dreams off and when he awakes, she has disappeared. Became the first chapter of the Wind-up Bird Chronicle, but is also perfect as a stand-alone story.

In 1989 TV People was published, of which the following stories were included in The Elephant Vanishes:

- "TV People" A man's apartment is taken over by TV characters, as the homes of us all are invaded by the media.

- "Sleep" One of MurakamI's darkest stories. A young mother cannot sleep anymore after she has dreamed that a shadowy man has poured water over her legs. Sitting up reading every night, she rediscovers herself and begins to question her marriage. But death is not far away, as she notices when she starts making nightly excursions in her car...

From the 1996 collection Lexington Ghosts, finally, were translated:

- "The Little Green Monster" A housewife is horrified when a little green monster enters her home, reads her mind, and declares his love. She promptly kills it.

- "The Silence" A friend of the narrator, who is a boxer, only once had to use violence...

Western reviewers have (a bit stupidly) complained that Murakami is "too Western." Some would rather have sushi than hamburgers, not to speak about other exotisms. They are wrong, because the Japan that Murakami's stories describe, is the real Japan of today, where people eat more hamburgers than sushi!

I like the stillness (ordinariness?) of these stories - also when seemingly nothing happens, still something important shifts inside the narrator. Or he realizes there is something more below the surface of daily life, like the undersea volcano in The Second Bakery Attack.

Most of the stories are realistic. When fantasy elements intrude, one doesn't mind as it is only for the time of a story. That is better than in Murakami's recent "magic-realistic" novels as Kafka on the Shore, where the piled-on magic elements become unbelievable. (I would have liked a short story about those fish raining from the sky!) On the other hand it is true that there is personal preference involved here - I prefer lyrical poetry to epics, haiku to tanka and concise short stories, like the world caught reflected in a diamond, to bulky, meandering novels.

My personal canon of 108 best books (3) - "Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee" by Robert van Gulik

In 1949, the Dutch Sinologue and diplomat Robert van Gulik translated an 18th century, anonymous Chinese crime novel under the title "Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee." He found the original novel in a second-hand bookshop in Tokyo and hoped it would teach Japanese and Chinese authors of detective fiction something about their own rich tradition. When nobody took notice, Van Gulik started to write detective novels himself, basing his character on the Judge Dee of the novel he had translated.

Judge Dee (Di Renjie) was a magistrate and statesman of the Tang court, who lived from 630 to 700. He was not a detective (detectives are a modern invention!) but the magistrate of a district, the smallest unit in the Chinese local bureaucracy, which forced him to execute many different duties in own person: head of the administration, head of police, and judge, to name a few.

Between 1950 and 1968 Van Gulik would write 16 Judge Dee novels. Van Gulik wrote in English, but had the first novel (The Chinese Maze Murders) translated in Japanese by a Japanese friend, and made himself a Chinese translation. The Japanese translation is still available in Japanese bookstores, but as it proved difficult to inspire local detective authors to write about their country's historical heroes, Van Gulik finally resigned himself to writing for an international public in English. That was a good idea. Soon catching on in popularity, the novels were translated into many languages, including Van Gulik's native Dutch (partly by himself).

The first Judge Dee novel I read (a long time ago) was The Chinese Bell Murders, the second one Van Gulik wrote. I was immediately hooked and in high tempo read all the Judge Dee novels the local library had available. After that, I started collecting the missing volumes from second hand bookstores, both in Dutch and in English (at that time, they were out of print in the Netherlands; happily, later new editions appeared).

I was then still in high school, and had already made my decision to study Chinese and Japanese at university. The Judge Dee novels very much strengthened me in that resolve. Reading the novels almost felt as if living in a traditional Chinese city, visiting the market and the temples, the red light district and the Confucius Hall. The books have an original and authentic atmosphere, as nobody knew China better than Van Gulik, who lived there for long periods, was fluent in the language and also wrote many scholarly studies about Chinese culture. In the staunch Confucian Judge Dee, Van Gulik also tried to make us see what the values of educated people in traditional China were, and how they thought. We also get fascinating insights into China's material culture, law and punishment, and in human nature in general.

"Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee" was not translated in full by Van Gulik. He only took the first part, in which Judge Dee solves three cases when he was a local magistrate. And indeed, as a crime novel, that part can stand on its own. In reality, the Chinese original was not a crime novel at all, but a record describing the life of Judge Dee on two levels, first as a loyal servant of the Throne in the provinces, and in the untranslated second part at a high position in the capital, at Court, as a solver of various palace intrigues.

The original Judge Dee novel had one aspect Van Gulik borrowed in most of his own stories: the fact that Judge Dee has to solve several different crimes at the same time, usually three, which Van Gulik considered as more true to life than the single story line in the Western crime novel. But not all aspects of Chinese crime stories were fit for borrowing. Van Gulik rightly skipped such things as that the suspect is known from the start (the emphasis for the Chinese was on crime and retribution, not on suspense and detection) and that the truth is often revealed by supernatural means.

Van Gulik did copy the descriptions of the cruelty of the Chinese police apparatus, where suspects were exposed to severe torture to make them confess (and everyone who entered the magistrate's court was already more or less considered as guilty), although Judge Dee often showed his compassionate side. Van Gulik also included the in China mandatory description of the execution in his own novels. This is also a grisly part (cutting criminals slowly in pieces and things like that), but was necessary in the Chinese context as the stories were after all meant as moralistic admonitions. Happily, there is nothing moralistic about Van Gulik's Judge Dee novels, which are only good fun...

If you have not read Judge Dee yet, I can warmly recommend these novels (both the ones Van Gulik wrote himself and the translation of Celebrated Cases). But be warned, they can be addictive...

Robert van Gulik, Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee (Dover Publications)

Wikipedia article with all titles of the Judge Dee novels (the same can be found on this website)

Excellent Dutch website about Van Gulik and Judge Dee.

Japanese Regional Sake - Wakayama

Wakayama is the warmest prefecture on Honshu - the place where spring arrives earlier than elsewhere. That does not make it very suitable for sake brewing, for which a colder climate is necessary. On top of that, 80% of the prefecture consists of forests and mountains (my favorite Kumano area in the south, as well as Mt Koya). And finally, Wakayama lies under the heavy shadow of the large producers in Nada and Fushimi...

On the other hand, in the field of fermentation technique and history, Wakayama is famous for being the place where 800 years ago shoyu or soy sauce was invented (in Yuasa, south of Wakayama City). Of the about 20 breweries in the prefecture, most stand in Wakayama, Kainan, or along the Kinokawa River. All are small in size, and they brew some excellent sakes.

Facts:
Sake production volume Wakayama Prefecture in 2006 (figures National Tax Office): 3,981 kiloliters
Sake rice: Fukunohana almost not grown anymore, imports most of the sake rice.

Number of active breweries (Japan Sake Brewers Association website): 23

Wakayama sake is mostly full in taste and sweet. Most of the master brewers are from Tajimi.

Here are some interesting breweries:

• Nate Shuzo (1886; Kuroushi, "Black Cow," and Kikumiyo, "Reign of the Chrysanthemum"). In Kuroe, Kainan City. Owned and operated by the Nate family. Still maintains a traditional brewery. "Kuroushi Junmaishu" received high praise across Japan (also from John Gauntner) and is also exported. Image leader of sake from Wakayama, with an average rice polishing ratio of 57%. The name of "Black Cow" originates from the tradition that there was a rock shaped like a black cow - also appearing in the Manyoshu - on the coast near where the brewery is located. Uses the famous "Manyo Kuroushi" water and has the growing of Miyama Nishiki rice contracted out to local farmers. Interesting brewery museum "Onko Denshokan."
• Sekai Itto (1884; Sekai Itto, The World Unified", a name given by Okuma Shigenobu, statesman and founder of waseda University). Owned and operated by the Minakata family - the eldest son of the founder was Minakata Kumagusu, a renowned naturalist. This relatively large brewery sits right in the middle of Wakayama City (near the Nankai Shieki Station). They are known for their fragrant ginjo. You will find them in many izakaya in Wakayama.
• Kokonoe Saika (1934; Saika). Small brewery from Wakayama city, also known for its vinegar(!). Top-quality, mostly sold in the Tokyo area.

Information from: National Tax Office and Japan Sake Breweries Association
Regional profile gleaned from: Nihonshu no Tekisuto (2): Sanchi no Tokucho to Tsukuritetachi by renowned sake journalist Matsuzaki Haruo (Doyukan, 2005). Some information about individual breweries based on Matsuzaki Haruo, Tastes of 1635 Shinpan Nihonshu Gaidobukku (Shibata Shoten 2003).

Webpage on Wakayama sake (was very helpful for introducing the above three breweries!).

My personal canon of 108 best books (2) - The Zhuangzi

The Zhuangzi has always been one of my favorite texts, thanks to the humor, the wild flights of fantasy, the imaginative stories and parables, the poetry of its language. And of course its philosophical stance, which is a combination of relativism and skepticism, bound together by an all-pervading holism. At the same time, it is one of the most influential works ever written in Chinese, both within the Chinese tradition (think of poets as Tao Yuanming, Su Dongpo, Yang Wanli etc, as well as Zen Buddhism) and Japan (Basho!).

The core of the Zhuangzi may be of slightly earlier date than the Daodejing (around 270 BCE). These are the so-called Seven Inner Chapters usually ascribed to the historical Zhuangzi (about whom virtually nothing is known except that he lived in the last three quarters of the 4th century BCE). Besides that, the book contains writings by anonymous followers of Zhuangzi's school and others who were sympathetic to it (the Outer Chapters 8-22 and Miscellaneous Chapters 23-33).

The Zhuangzi shares the philosophy of the spontaneous changes of the universe, with which the sage should try to be in accordance, with the Daodejing. Zhuangzi considered the moral patterns of the Confucians and other philosophers as artificial constructs of humans. The universe operates according to spontaneous processes and therefore humans should act spontaneously as well (translator Burton Watson calls this freedom). However, humans have the tendency to make artificial distinctions, thus removing themselves from the spontaneous processes of the natural world.

The playful style and fictive anecdotes in the Zhuangzi have the purpose to help readers break out of their habitual and artificial distinctions. That is why we have Confucius renouncing ritual, or he Sage Kings giving up their positions.

The philosophers of ancient China faced the same problem: how to live in a world of chaos and suffering. While the Confucians and others came with concrete action plans, the mystic Zhuangzi said: free yourself from the world.

When a man named Nanrong Zhu came to visit Laozi, to ask for instruction, the Sage promptly asked: "Why did you come with all these people?" The man whirled around but there was nobody behind him. Of course Zhuangzi means here the baggage of old ideas, of convential concepts of right and wrong that we all carry about. We must first discard these before we can be free. We human beings are the authors of our own suffering and bondage. Zhuangzi sums this up in the image of the leper woman, who "when she gives birth to a child in the deep of the night, rushes to fetch a torch and examine it, trembling with terror lest it look like itself" (Burton Watson, p. 4).

Zhuangzi tries to shock us out of our bondage by paradoxical anecdotes, nonsensical remarks and pseudological discussions. Another deadly weapon he uses is humor - the very core of his style.

Zhuangzi is the philosopher of naturalness, of spontaneity. By just following nature, everything will be best. Applied to politics, this means the world will be ordered automatically, a spontaneous order without need for (too much) government.

In the same way, death is not to be feared as it is only one of the many natural transformations. Without believing in an afterlife, Zhuangzi just tells us to trust nature:

Zhuangzi's wife died. When Huizi went to convey his condolences, he found Zhuangzi sitting with his legs sprawled out, pounding on a tub and singing... [...] (When Huizi admonished him, Zhuangzi answered:) "You are wrong. When she first died, do you think I didn't grieve like anyone else? But I looked back to her beginning and the time before she was born. Not only the time before she was born, but the time before she had a body. Not only the time before she had a body, but the time before she had a spirit. In the midst of the jumble of wonder and mystery a change took place and she had a spirit. Another change and she had a body. Another change and she was born. Now there has been another change and she is dead. It is just like the progression of the four seasons, spring, summer, fall, winter. Now she is going to lie down peacefully in a vast room..." [modified from Watson, p. 191-92]

(The sentence about the seasons, reminds me of the beautiful film of almost the same title ("Sping, summer, fall, winter... and spring again") by Korean director Kim Ki-duk, about a young monk growing up in a temple on a vast lake...)

The most famous story of the Zhuangzi is the "butterfly story" (here modified from the free Legge translation):

Once Zhuangzi dreamt that he was a butterfly, a butterfly flying about, enjoying itself. He did not know that he was Zhuangzi. Suddenly he awoke, and was himself again, the veritable Zhuangzi. But he did not know whether he was Zhuangzi who had dreamt that he was a butterfly, or a butterfly now dreaming that he was Zhuangzi. Between Zhuangzi and a butterfly there must be a some difference. This is called the Transformation of Things.

In China this epistemological story is so famous that it has become idiom ("Zhuang Zhou Meng Die"). According to Wikipedia, it has also influenced Borges.

The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy has a good article on the Zhuangzi, as has the Wikipedia, which also has a list of translations available for free on the web. The Zhuangzi is such a difficult text, also for Chinese, that you should do yourself the favor of selecting a translation by a specialist in Chinese. The best complete translation, in my view, is still the one by Sinologist and prolific translator Burton Watson, published by Columbia University Press in 1968 (still available!). I bought my copy in London in 1978, so it has been a long-time companion indeed. But I have not read in it for many years and several parts now seem like new to me. (Unfortunately, the translation by Palmer and Breuilly c.s. in Penguin Books can not be recommended - see this review for the reasons.)

Burton watson, The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu (Columbia UP, 1968)

Burton Watson, Early Chinese Literature (Columbia UP, 1962)

The Columbia History of Chinese Literature (Columbia UP, 2001)

A.C. Graham, Disputers of the Tao: Philosophical Argument in Ancient China (Open Court Publishing Company, 1989)

Japanese Regional Sake - Shiga

Although Shiga Prefecture boasts some excellent local makers, it is an area of only small breweries. Shiga used to be the central rice producing area of the Kansai, but urbanization and industrialization have taken their toll. You only find unspoiled landscapes in the far north (round the northern tip of Lake Biwa) and in the far south of the prefecture.

As the Hokuriku Highway used to run through the prefecture on its way to the Japan Sea coast, the toji (master brewers) in Shiga often hailed from the Noto Peninsula.

Facts:
Sake production volume Shiga Prefecture in 2006 (figures National Tax Office): 2,528 kiloliters
Sake rice: Tamazakae

Number of active breweries (Japan Sake Brewers Association website): 51

All breweries in Shiga are small. Shiga sake is mellow in tast, and slightly sweet. The water is soft, as in Kyoto's Fushimi.

Here are some interesting breweries:

• Ikemoto Shuzo (1926; Biwa no Choju, "Long Life of Lake Biwa" - "biwa itself means "lute"). One of the great breweries of the Kansai. Switched to "pure rice" sake in 1968 and was also the first to begin producing ginjo sake in Shiga in the early eighties. Slowly brews its top sakes, taking 40 days. Uses the local sake rice, tamazakae. Usually makes full-flavored, powerful sakes, easily the most individualistic brewery in Shiga. Earned many prizes at the annual contest for new sake. Near Imazu, north of Lake Biwa (Takashima City).
• Fujii Honke (1831; Toji no Mai, "Lute Dance," Kyokujitsu, "Morning Sun"). Near Inae, east of Lake Biwa. Brews the white (shiroki) and black (kuroki) sake mentioned as palace sakes in the 10th century Engishiki Records, supplying them to the imperial house for the annual Niiname-sai ceremony in November. Makes ripe sakes with a relatively high acidity. The owner himself has devised the present brewery, with interesting tweaks such as three koji rooms.
• Kawashima Shuzo (1864; Matsu no hana, "Flower of Pine Tree"). The Matsu no Hana brand of sakes are borne by the underflow water from the Hira mountains. Mellow, yet deep aroma. Near Shinasahi Station, west of Lake Biwa.
• Kitajima Shuzo (1805; Miyosakae, "The Flowering in His Reign", based on a poem in the ancient Manyoshu collection). In Koga, the southern part of Shiga Prefecture (near Kosei St on the JR Kusatsu Line). Junmaishu made from organic rice. Sake with a fresh taste. Puts emphasis on premium sakes; in case some alcohol is added, this is distilled from rice (and not as usual from black sugar etc.).

Information from: National Tax Office and Japan Sake Breweries Association

Regional profile gleaned from: Nihonshu no Tekisuto (2): Sanchi no Tokucho to Tsukuritetachi by renowned sake journalist Matsuzaki Haruo (Doyukan, 2005). Some information about individual breweries based on Matsuzaki Haruo, Tastes of 1635 Shinpan Nihonshu Gaidobukku (Shibata Shoten 2003).

Around the Japanese web: Isozaki Arata to Abe Sada

The Japan Times feautures an interview with another cultural icon, architect Isozaki Arata (famous for such buildings as the Gunma Museum of Modern Art, the Hara Museum ARC, the Nagi Museum of Contemporary Art in Okayama, the Oita Art Plaza, and the Art Tower Mito etc). On July 27, the Hara Museum ARC in Gunma will open its new Kankai Pavilion, also designed by Isozaki and dedicated to traditional East-Asian art.

Director Mochizuki Rokuro (of Minazuki fame) has made a new version of the (in)famous Abe Sada story ("Johnen - Sada no Ai"), here reviewed by Mark Schilling.

When you live in Tokyo, don't miss the Nihonshu Fair 2008, the world's largest sake tasting event, held in Ikebukuro's Sunshine City on June 11. Tickets are 3,500 at the door and you can imbibe from 16:00 to 20:00.

Who killed the literary critic at Salon.com looks at the death of literary criticism. In the age of blogging, literary critics appear to be on life support. I would say: why don't they start blogging themselves?

And finally... don't worry about forgetfulness when you are getting older... according the this NY Times article, less data can mean more wisdom.

Bai Juyi on the Daodejing

The Chinese Tang-poet Bai Juyi wrote the following tongue-in-cheek poem about the Daodejing, the Daoist wisdom book that claims that "those who know, don't speak":

Reading Laozi

Those who speak do not know, those who know are silent,
I heard this saying from the old gentleman.
If the old gentleman was one who knew the way,
Why did he feel able to write five thousand words?

(from Chinese Poems)

My personal canon of 108 best books (1) - The Daodejing

One of the reasons I decided to study Chinese (a decision that shocked both my parents and my teachers at the Grammar School in the small town where I lived) was my discovery of philosophical Daoism. Not satisfied with what the protestant church my family officially was a member of, was teaching, already from a young age I had started looking for wisdom elsewhere. That was not easy in the pre-internet age (something now unconceivable!) – I only had the local library to rely on and that was not much in a conservative municipality.

Happily, at some time I discovered that a publisher called Kluwer (in 1972 this division became independent and was renamed Ankh-Hermes) at that time was publishing so-called "esoteric" books, among them also small-sized hardcover books with translations of the Daodejing, Zhuangzi and Liezi - the three central books of philosophical Daoism.

These translations were not by professional Sinologists, but they served well as a first introduction. I remember I also bought a Dutch version of Wilhem's The Book of Changes (Ijing) and a direct Dutch translation of the earliest book of Chinese poetry, The Book of Songs. Unfortunately, I don't have those books anymore; they have fallen by the wayside during my frequent international removals, after I had acquired better and more reliable English translations. But I still can vividly remember the pleasure those small books afforded me... especially the short Daodejing was very intriguing...

The way (Dao) that can be spoken of

is not the constant way;

The name that can be named

is not the constant name.

The Daodejing is a small book (about 5,000 characters in Chinese) of 81 aphorisms. I have re-read it in the version by D.C. Lau (Penguin Classics), which also contains an excellent introduction and other materials. The Daodejing is the principal classic in the Daoist tradition. Traditionally, it has been ascribed to one Laozi, or "Old Master," a so-called contemporary of Confucius, but as the name already indicates, Laozi is most probably a fictional figure - he is also not mentioned in the Daodejing itself. There were probably many "old masters" and their wise, guru-like sayings were compiled into one book somewhere in the 3th c. BCE (around 270 BCE the text became very influential).

This was an age in which many schools of philosophy competed with ideas about the ideal government. As D.C. Lau, the translator, indicates, that is probably also how the Daodejing was originally meant - a treatise on government and personal conduct rather than a mystical treatise. It advances a philosophy of naturalness and meekness as the way to survival in chaotic and disordered times.

"In the world there is nothing more submissive and weak than water. Yet for attacking that which is hard and strong nothing can surpass it."

Although beautiful poetry, the work in fact is quite disordered itself: many of the 81 chapters hang together as loose sand and Lau again subdivides them by numbering certain passages, so coming to a total of 196 aphorisms. The title "Classic of the Way and the Virtue ("The Way and its Power" in the rendering of Arthur Waley) has been simply taken from the starting words of the two books into which it has been (arbitrarily) divided.

"One who knows does not speak;
One who speaks does not know."

The Dao precedes and informs all other beings in the universe and is basically indescribable. You can only be in harmony with it by an attitude of naturalness, of passivity and of yielding. This quietistic attitude can also be applied to the ruling of the state: no do-goodism or hyper-active planning, but a certain amount of laissez faire is what is necessary. Or in the words of Michael Puett:

"The Daodejing argues that the universe changes spontaneously, without a conscious will driving it. The goals of the sage should be to act in accordance with these spontaneous changes. [...] In the Daodejing the universe operates through a constant process of generation and decay: things are naturally born and then they naturally die. Everything emerges from oneness and ultimately returns to it. The act of differentiation is a movement away from oneness, from stillness, from emptiness. The goal of the true sage is to become still and empty and thus achieve a state of returning to this oneness. This is called attaining the Dao. A true sage acts without conscious deliberation [...] Moreover he is amoral, for the Dao itself is amoral - morality is an artificial human construct and should thus be opposed." (from The Columbia History of Chinese Literature, Columbia UP, 2001, pp. 76-78).

It is the mystic, rhapsodic tone that makes this book so attractive and has ensured its survival long after its political message lost its relevance. It is subtle, elusive and suggestive and can therefore also be read on a "higher level" as a book of mystical wisdom. It is not for nothing the most translated book from the Chinese, every new translator can find new meanings in it, like an ancient Rorschach test.

"Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful."

But thanks to its transcendental attitude, there are many things in the Daodejing that still can interest us personally. It can very well for the basis for a personal philosophy of life. Although I can not claim I have always followed it, to me personally it is a very inspiring book.

Wikipedia lists some things we can learn from the Daodejing, such as:

• Force begets force.
• Material wealth does not enrich the spirit.
• Self-absorption and self-importance are vain and self-destructive.
• Victory in war is not glorious and not to be celebrated, but stems from devastation, and is to be mourned.
• The harder one tries, the more resistance one creates for oneself.
• The more one acts in harmony with the universe (the Mother of the ten thousand things), the more one will achieve, with less effort.
• The qualities of flexibility and suppleness, especially as exemplified by water, are superior to rigidity and strength.
• Humility is the highest virtue.
• Know when it's time to stop.

Start reading the Daodejing today in one of the many online versions listed in the Wikipedia.

This post quotes from / is based on:

Tao Te Ching, translated by D.C. Lau (Penguin Books, 1976)

Early Chinese Literature, Burton Watson (Columbia UP, 1962)

The Columbia History of Chinese Literature (Columbia UP, 2001)

P.S. My ideas about what my personal canon should be have been evolving since I started to read for it. It is going to be a personal canon, so different from a list of great world literature. I will only include books that influenced my life, that meant a lot to me or that i keep coming back to. Because of my focus on Japan and China, that will mainly be literature from those countries.