Far from a beginner’s book to understanding the practice of Zen. Much of Suzuki’s lectures seem to be attempting to transfer the ungraspable nature of the world into more concrete forms for our understanding. This, of course, proves difficult. Instead we are left with short parables that present the novice Zen learner with contradiction after contradiction. Practice zazen but don’t practice zazen, enlightenment is here but not here, you are not you but also entirely you. Zen often leads itself to this type of phraseology, but having it occur so frequently in such a condensed book makes the reader want to throw up their hands in despair.
However, there were a few passages that helped better elicidate basic Zen tenants. One passage used the movie screen as a analogy for enlighlentment. We watch horror, sad dramas, and a variety of movies which provoke difficult feelings in us. Yet, we still enjoy these movies and seek them out. We do this because we are aware that beneath the scary or depressing scenes is a white screen. Our enlightenment is the same as this baseline white screen. All the suffering we experience daily can be viewed differently if we remember the emptiness that is at the root of everything. We can then “enjoy” the diffculties we are confronted with.
There are a few short lectures like this scattered throughout the text. Mining them from the rest of the writing made this book a bit of a chore. Still, it is a very quick read, so don’t let my rather harsh rating discourage you.
I like camping. It is something I have done since I was a child and young adult in the Boy Scouts and continued to do while on hiatus back in Pennsylvania and the Northeast U.S. The solitude is great, food tastes better after a day spent in the woods, and the nature is always inspiring. After allowing last summer to pass without taking part in any camping, me and my wife decided to hit the road a few times this past month and head to Tomakomai’s Arten Auto Resort, which is exactly what it sounds like. There are approximately 250 campsites, on immaculately groomed sod, an onsen, restaurant, park golf course, and various other amenities. I was just looking forward to sleeping in a tent.
Only about a one and half hour drive south west of Sapporo, the Arten resort has been consistently ranked as one of the top camping facilities in Hokkaido. Unfortunately, this seems to be a fact that every family on the north island seems well aware of. And, being Japan, an overcrowded destination is not cause for discomfort or avoidance, but a physical reaffirmation of just how great a place must be. Thus even more people will try to crowd a location, solely because others are flocking there.
In the weeks prior we made all the necessary purchases for our family camping adventure. Costco and Homac came through with some decent deals on tents, screen canopies, charcoal grills and all the rest of our needs. So we were more than ready once we arrived at our site.
Strangely enough arriving Friday afternoon with a three day holiday weekend in front of us, the resort was mostly barren of other campers. As we set up our site and the night progressed, there were only a handful of other camping groups scattered amongst the 200+ sites of the resort. We had a great BBQ, a relaxing bath at the resort’s onsen (600 Yen per person for the duration of your stay) and fell asleep early to crickets. First night was a great success.
Saturday is where things got very Japanese. That is really the best I can do to describe it. After spending the morning hiking with the dog and peacefully exploring the area, 1 o’clock struck, and our rather idyllic camping experience became a crowded carnival. From the moment check in began until about 3 PM a torrent of minivans invaded every single campsite available. Every site. From those minivans sprouted a minimum of two children each bouncing some kind of ball and racing down the resorts roads on scooters and bikes (and if they didn’t bring their own, no worries, Arten can and will rent it to you). By late afternoon there were BBQs going everywhere. Essentially it just became one huge, somewhat cramped location to have a BBQ and sleep in a tent for a night or two.
Of course we had a great BBQ as well on our newly purchased Coleman charcoal grill. We ate the food in our extremely easy to set up Coleman screen canopy, and enjoyed the evening with our well lit Coleman LED lantern. Our Costco bought 10,000 Yen Coleman tent was perfect for me, my wife, and dog. And I would say about 90% of the campers at Arten had the same feeling about their gear, being that they all had Coleman shit. It could have easily passed for some kind of Coleman product marketing festival.
With the immense crowds I decided to forgo the onsen on the second night. 15 naked Japanese men and 1 white guy in the bathhouse, I can deal with those odds. 100 and 1? Not a fan of that ratio. I’d wait until I reached home the next day. The next morning we packed up very early and snuck back to Sapporo before most of the hundreds of other campers awoke.
Some advice for auto camping in Hokkaido:
1. Bug protection is necessary. Don’t believe online reports that Hokkaido has no mosquitos. Not only do they exist in abundance, but nasty biting black flies make the daytime hours unbearable unless you wear long pants/sleeves. A screen tent will make your experience that much better.
2. There will be crowds on any Saturday, especially in the summer.
3. If you can manage to get started camping on a Friday you will avoid crowds for at least a night. (there is no Japanese phrase for “I am gonna knock off work early.”) Weekdays are your best bet.
After the crowds arrived we realized how much everyone else in Japan like Coleman products as well as us.We paid for one of the deluxe sites which included a sink, electric hookups, and a picnic bench (charcoal grill was our own)Sunny took a while to adjust to tent life.A screen tent is a necessity, the black flies are bad during the daytime.
This book touched on nearly every Japanese socio-cultural ill that has plagued my mind since I began living here . Scathing in every dimension, often backed by insightful research and careful observations, the author paints a truer picture of Japan than most books. While much of the book delves into the Hikikomori phenomenon (shut ins, those who seclude themselves from society for a variety of reasons), many elements of social interaction in modern Japanese life are discussed. It makes for an enthralling read, even frightening in its portrayal of the levels of dysfunction that follow each Japanese person from the cradle to the grave.
One of the more interesting points made, and one central to its thesis, is the idea of “social trust”. Essentially, Zielenziger argues that because of Japan’s rather agnostic sense of spirituality(Shinto with accents of Buddhism), modern Japanese are extremely hesitant to reach out to “the other”; whether that be those in different social circles or the neighbor next door. This isolating pattern is seen everywhere, from the groups that are formed in school, to the workplace, and the family. Breaking free of these imposed group relationships is nearly impossible to do, and dangerous for those who try.
Most of these “shut-ins” who stay locked in their rooms sometimes for several decades, find this psychic break from the group to be the root of their troubles. Many of these Hikikomori stories begin with the person being dubbed an outcast in their schooling days, bullied for being different. Although such ostracism exists in all societies, in many other cultures the young person finds a way to prevail, remaining eccentric, and develop into interesting, creative adults. (albeit with some mental scars) However, the chains of group dynamics in Japan are just too strong to overcome and those who try to break free are rejected by society as a whole. It is a sad state of affairs and leads one to question how many interesting, eclectic, creative individuals are locked away in Japan’s back closets.
Altogether this is a fascinating book that gets to the heart of many issues. If read in conjunction with Alex Kerr’s Dogs and Demons, those interested in modern Japanese society without wearing rose-tinted glasses can obtain a truer picture of this complicated nation.
At times fascinating and insightful, other times annoyingly shallow in its presentation of the sushi phenomenon. Much of the science and history of sushi is spot on and a joy to read about, but where Corson falls short is his examination of the realities of sushi culture in Japan today. Understanding that his focus was on the California Sushi Academy, but to title your work “The Story of Sushi” one has to at least examine how the modern Japanese experience it. Corson gives very little accurate insight in this regard. Some of what he describes about sushi in Japan is just plain wrong. If you ever spent anytime in Japan, and you love sushi like I do, some of these falsehoods and characteristics of Japanese sushi need to be addressed.
1. Throughout the book Corson makes it seem as though sushi chefs are some kind of fish bartender/psychologist. The sushi chefs at the California academy yuk it up with customers, tell jokes, and drink with them. In fact, quite a few pages of this book are filled with exchanges of “Kanpai!” between chef and customer. Well that might fly in America where we have come to expect a show (thanks Benihana) and want every restaurant to be a episode of “Cheers”, but in Japan it ain’t happening. Wait-staff, chefs, and anyone working at a restaurant in Japan keep a fair bit of distance between themselves and the customer. Friendly, diligent, and ready to fill the customers needs – sure, but slapping them on the back and downing shots of sake with them, even with regular customers, is a real no-no. This is do to the culture of Japan and especially do to the fact that chefs/wait-staff don’t have to impress for tips in Japan.
The last thing I would want anyone to think after reading this book is that that those kind of wild revelries are what the Japanese sushi experience is all about. Please don’t buy your sushi chef drinks in Japan, period.
2. Corson also seems to imply that most Japanese enjoy visiting their neighborhood sushi chef, some tiny five seat bar where everybody knows your name. That might have held true at an earlier time, but for better or worse, Japan’s modern sushi experience is built upon chain sushi restaurants. Some of these are massive, like Sushi Zanmai, some are regional like Hokkaido’s Toriton, some are chains of only a few locations. You can find them in most cities and they draw a huge following. Usually they are of the kaiten-zushi variety. The chefs at these places are very competent, not some twenty year old woman afraid to gut a fish.(ala Kate from the book). In fact, near Tsukiji fish market some of the best sushi can be found at Sushi Zanmai (and numerous smaller shops close to the inner market area).
Those two points being said, the book does do an excellent job of relating the history of sushi from the early days as a fish preserved for many months in rice to its more modern incarnation in the late 1800‘s as a street stall snack. Corson also delves into the making of soy sauce, dashi, seaweed farming, and rice cultivation, revealing the very rich tapestry of Japanese flavors necessary for sushi. This part of the book is wonderful, it’s a shame that more time could have been spent behind the Japanese sushi bar to give better context to the story.
Because of this omission, a better title might have been “Sushi in America”. That would have given the whole book more credence than the overtly bold “The Story of Sushi”, and would have given it three stars instead of two.
Self help books rarely get to the crux of the matter. Anyone with an intellect, an inquiring mind, or a shred of awareness will realize that modern “self help” is based on the supposition that one can trick their mind into being positive, being happy, or being motivated all the time. Burkeman offers no such tricks in this quick and extremely interesting retaliation to positive thinking. This is not a cure all or a twelve step program. There are no prescriptions for success. Just pure investigations into the concepts of negative capability- embracing fears, failures, and worse case scenarios while steering us away from the many fallacies that modern motivational speakers make. There are numerous jumping off points for greater inquiry-from Alan Watts and Ekhart Tolle to studies from the annals of recent and not so recent psychology.
But Burkeman doesn’t just stop with embracing negativity. He delves further into our conceptions of self, the ego, death, and the nature of reality. Each of these topics is difficult to grasp in their entirety, but through personal interviews, travels to meditation centers, treks through Mexican graveyards during the Day of the Dead celebrations, and a self-effacing experiment in the London Undergound, we come to better terms with these heady concepts. Burkeman keeps it fresh with wit, skepticism, and the projection of himself as merely a questioner of the cult of optimism- not some self styled guru.
You’ll think twice about most “Happiness” based self help books on your next trip to the bookstore- and possibly might use those you already own as kindling for your next BBQ!
This book takes the dirty, desolate, destructive lives of addicts, turns them on their head, spins them around,and spits them back at you in repeatedly surprising ways. How do you make a story about opium/heroin dens in Bombay more decrepit? Make your lead character a non-willing trans-gender eunuch who is forced by her boss to take on an alternate Muslim identity. If that wasn’t intriguing enough, Thayil has many more surprising detours along the way.
There are no lulls in this story, none! At every moment in which a particular storyline has been developed and nearly played out, you are slapped rather hard with tangents as abrasive as anal sex, body cavity drug smuggling, Chinese Cultural Revolution purges, and multiple murders. All of this with a backdrop of racial rioting, slum life, and the persistent rains of the monsoon. This book, though it failed short of turning me into an opium addict, will make you yearn for a life a little less serene, more dirty, more seedy, more direct, and one unfiltered by modern business, media, and the cult of modernity.
So I have attempted a change in my own personal zeitgeist. I’ve relinquished myself from the death-leash of Facebook and freed myself to a cyberworld that feels more 1999-ish. I’ve also made the complete transition to Linux on my tiny, incredible overused-passed its expiration date- Toshiba netbook (now if I can just get my late nineties Canon printer to work, I’ll be set). I’ve been reading, alot, in the meantime…and I’ve kept it fairly eclectic and at times contradictory. Here’s a rundown of my stack:
Leaning about life in Bhutan, Hemingway’s trans-gender son, the history of camping and back-to-nature societies in Great Britain, and Questlove’s analysis of the history of hip-hop. When I am really bored I work on my computer programming, mostly Python and keep the wheels churning with an online MIT course, Introduction to Computer Science and Programming.
So there it is… I am a birdwatching hater of social media, who is learning to code, practicing meditation and mindfulness, and vigorously riding my private conveyance – my single speed bicycle. Stay tuned…
A short, powerful book that follows all the familiar McCarthy themes of death, duty to family, trust and the often hidden nature of humanity. Far more readable than many of his earlier works, primarily because of its exclusion of Spanish dialogue (a realistic but difficult convention prominent in the Border Trilogy), but still occasionally relying on archaic or biblical vocabulary and syntax – broken into short paragraphic bursts that drive the story along swiftly. Many of McCarthy’s tropes are branded into the reader’s mind early on: ash mixed with an almost continuous snow or rain, and the relentless movement of man and boy questing ever further, knowing not for what.
Although not as altogether gripping as Blood Meridian (which was rooted somewhat in history), this book transcends the Western genre to give one of the sparsest and truest definitions of humankind, coming close to Hesse’s Siddhartha in its brutal simplicity.
It’s been awhile. Not that I haven’t been writing, reading, sketching, and exploring my new town of Sapporo. Now that I am back in the swing to some degree, and I have a routine of sorts in place, I feel it is important to reveal one element of that routine – public parks.
Usually, here in Japan, public spaces are very well maintained but notoriously overcrowded. Just walk down Sapporo’s Odori on an early summer Saturday and you’ll be sometimes lucky to find a bench anywhere along it’s 1.5 kilometers. So when I scout out parks I first look at the human/space ratio, then move on to the quality of the landscape, wildlife(birds), perceived seclusion from the city, and overall maintenance.
Using these metrics led me to Chijikoukan (The Hokkaido Governor’s Official Residence). This place has it all: a classic European-style mansion, wide open lawns and dense covered mini-forests, countless places sit with sun cover, babbling brooks and coy filled ponds.
Japan or some Dutch estate? Chijikoukan might leave you scratching your head
I’ve stopped by this park numerous times and have spent many hours sketching and doing some light birdwatching from its gazebos. It is convenient to reach, a couple blocks away from the Nishi 18 Chome subway stop (Tozai Line), free to the public, and seems to have been kept secret from the public based on the number of people I don’t encounter there.
It’s easy to just walk through on your way about town, but it’s also just as easy to get completely sucked in for several hours. Dense trees along the park’s border shield you from the road and create the illusion of size despite the grounds only being a few blocks in size. The birdwatching here is also very good – recently I spotted white wagtail, bull-headed shrikes, and Eurasian Cuckoo. There are also bridges crossing man-made streams that don’t seem artificial or out of place.
But the most interesting element is how the city seems to cease to exist while your inside the park. The bird songs a loud enough to mask any sounds of traffic and the foliage is dense enough to block out most of the surrounding blocks higher buildings. It’s one of Sapporo’s best kept secrets, and considering this blogs rather limited readership, should stay that way.
You can explore the inside of the Governor’s residence, English pamphlets are available.
There are several stone monuments scattered throughout…The lawn in front of the Governor’s house is one of largest and most well maintained in Sapporo. You half expect a cricket match to start, that’s how smooth and flat the sod is.A little bit of modern object art is okay… just a little thoughSketching, Birdwatching, and enjoying a takeaway coffee from Machi CafeAn idyllic scene in Watercolor Pencil
