I should add that e-budo.com, despite being kind of dead these days, is THE martial arts bulletin board for all your well-researched martial arts demystifying needs. Interested parties should also check out koryu.com and their book series.

Wow, thanks!

I think it's a necessary rebound in popular academic criticism these days to de-zen the flavor of everything from tea-ceremonies to archery. I agree it's a necessary corrective to what has become clearly a kind of Jedi-philosophy of Zen so espoused by many. (And it's a handy template for getting a book published: debunk Western 'Zen'.)

My only concern is when this candid suspicion goes all out and denies that these arts were used, and are used, for the purposes of self-cultivation, as a hobby for personal satisfaction and -- gasp -- spirituality. Clearly calligraphy, poetry, and many other arts -- both in Japan and elsewhere -- have served this purpose. Agreed that the Zenification of archery and so forth is a recent event. And it should not be automatically said that the *core* purpose of archery is enlightenment. But given there's not much demand for archery these days, there are any number of reasons why people will plunk down the coin for a bow. Hartman himself is very fond of bowing to his sensei (or at least name-dropping his sensei).

PS: I'm also perturbed by this debate about who 'owns' Zen. On one hand, there's a free-for-all format of 'do what thou wilt' which R. H. Blyth and others suggested. But I'm not necessarily keen on the hierarchal possessiveness of lineage, bloodlines, and seal of ascent. From my readings, Chinese and Japanese literature are full of "idiosyncratic mystics" who were not well regarded by the religious establishment of their day. That's probably why we're enjoying their poetry thousands of years later.

PS one more: You know I really, really like your blog very much, so please don't feel like my comments are directed at you in particular. I'm just actively writing/thinking about this problem of Zen historicity and Zen adaptability. 'Zen' appeared in my local paper today to describe a busrider who didn't mind a crowded morning commute. This kind of thing is surely silly, and Herrigal could be perceived as misleading. But from what I can tell, after the Second World War, not too many Western experimenters in Zen were overly concerned about having their ideas authenticated, by academics or robed clergymen. Probably about as much as Madonna cares what the Pope thinks about her wearing a rosary in 'Like a Prayer'.

Re: early article on an MA thesis on why white people like to play 'shakuhachi'.

The interesting thing about these "deeply idiosyncratic" pet theories is that there are so many of them. Japanese society is full of off-the-wall pet theories lying just underneath the surface. It's no different from America in this regard; there was a funny Tom Tomorrow cartoon some years back about how everyone has a secret crazy theory in their heads.

Sometimes people's private beliefs are accidentally given official status, as described here. If we take Japanese society to be something coherent it's probably prudent to agree that this is not the "official" meaning of archery. But I think it is nonetheless an interesting meaning for archery; other kinds of beliefs also deserve to be heard and cataloged.

Whoo, lots of interesting points here. Let me go through them one-by-one, but please don't take it as an imperious dismissal.

My only concern is when this candid suspicion goes all out and denies that these arts were used, and are used, for the purposes of self-cultivation, as a hobby for personal satisfaction and -- gasp -- spirituality. Clearly calligraphy, poetry, and many other arts -- both in Japan and elsewhere -- have served this purpose. ... Hartman himself is very fond of bowing to his sensei (or at least name-dropping his sensei).

Ah, but Hartman doesn't claim that there is NO spiritual component to the Japanese tradition of archery. (Quite the opposite: he explicitly talks about the spiritual aspects in some forum posts.) He just claims that Herrigal got it egregiously wrong. So there's no need for that concern re Hartman, or Yamada for that matter. (I understand that Yamada is also an archer of some standing and no doubt has absorbed his share of mind/body talk as well.)

But I'm not necessarily keen on the hierarchal possessiveness of lineage, bloodlines, and seal of ascent. From my readings, Chinese and Japanese literature are full of "idiosyncratic mystics" who were not well regarded by the religious establishment of their day. That's probably why we're enjoying their poetry thousands of years later.

Nothing against idiosyncratic mystics. The shakuhachi world has plenty of them, and is much enriched for it. BUT the question of whether one was in the Zen tradition is entirely separate, and was indeed dependent on lines of descent (not necessarily by blood), taking vows, meditation -- walking the walk, basically. For all their idiosyncrasies and outrages, the Zen masters of the past still lived in monasteries with all the others. And those who didn't, weren't and aren't considered Zen masters.

But from what I can tell, after the Second World War, not too many Western experimenters in Zen were overly concerned about having their ideas authenticated, by academics or robed clergymen. Probably about as much as Madonna cares what the Pope thinks about her wearing a rosary in 'Like a Prayer'.

Right -- so the question is, are they part of the Zen tradition? Maybe they are part of the intellectual tradition, but not part of the institutional tradition -- but are we prepared to say that the institutional tradition is entirely irrelevant to the definition of Zen? I'm not; I think it leads to a broadening of the category unto meaningless. (It's also a bit revealing, I think, that people declare themselves in no need of the stuffy old tradition, and yet still want to claim an identity strongly identified with that stuffy old tradition.)

More importantly, in the case at hand, Awa (according to Yamada) had little-to-nothing to do with the institutional OR intellectual tradition of Zen. So making a claim that Herrigal somehow "found Zen" in him is very dubious.

The interesting thing about these "deeply idiosyncratic" pet theories is that there are so many of them. Japanese society is full of off-the-wall pet theories lying just underneath the surface.

True, but there is a qualitative difference (I would argue) between insisting that your students breathe a certain way, and trying to found an actual religion with proselytizing and everything. Awa was really at the extreme end of the scale, so Herrigal's implication of his representativeness is misleading.

If we take Japanese society to be something coherent it's probably prudent to agree that this is not the "official" meaning of archery. But I think it is nonetheless an interesting meaning for archery; other kinds of beliefs also deserve to be heard and cataloged.

Hartman, I think, would disagree: he thinks that Herrigal's book is actually harmful to people who come to archery through it, filling them with false ideas that keep them from the true spirituality of the pastime.

Let me make an analogy: suppose I, like Herrigal, have an unfounded belief about Zen. I believe that it so permeates the sensibilities of the Japanese media that it can best be revealed by reading newspapers. I embark on a program of reading them, but I actually just read WaiWai in English. (To make the analogy better, let's say that my native language isn't English and I don't even understand what I'm reading properly.) I then write a book about how bestiality restaurants and sex with pillows are a deep expression of Zen, and imply if not state categorically (I haven't read Herrigal's book) that what I found in the WaiWai columns is something essential to Japanese culture. I think we can all agree that my book might be very readable, but that it would provide very little insight into anything worthwhile, and without a strong disclaimer the value of my opinions' being heard and catalogued is quite low.

The problem is, quite simply, that kyūdo has never been all that connected to Zen Buddhism. Most traditional martial arts aren’t, which a few exceptions (Yagyū Shinkage-ryū comes to mind). When you sit down to read the sources, there’s a lot more references to Confucianism, Shintō, or esoteric (mikkyō) Buddhism.

That’s not to say Zen has no influence in Japanese culture. Sen-style tea ceremony, for example, explicitly draws its underpinnings from Zen. But we Westerners have Orientalized zen too much (in part thanks to D.T. Suzuki), and started seeing it everywhere—to the detriment of all the other myriad philosophies and religions that build up old Japanese culture.

Today there’s a lot of good, accessible literature on both koryū bujutsu and Zen-buddhism. These are two very interesting worlds, though they don’t intersect very often. Harrigan’s book (which I read avidly as a teenager) don’t present an accurate picture of either of them, and seems to be based entirely on misconceptions. I don’t think it’s good for anything other than as a document of how far we’ve came in understanding Japan :)

That's great that H acknowledges the spiritual dimensions that kyudo can enjoy -- albeit in forum posts. It would be interesting to see what label he would give to them.

I like your distinction between intellectual and institutional traditions -- mindful that both meant different things at different times. I agree that institutional Zen, for many ideological reasons, had depended upon systems of affirmation for both historical cohesion as brand-name legitimacy. I of course agree with you that, without these pathways, any religious tradition could turn into a muddle ill-defined mire. But I am sceptical of the other end of things, in which various figureheads (academics, poobahs, or osho) claim the way.

20th century Japan, of course, is filled with various prophets who reinvented religious labels to suit their own particular religious viewpoint. And of course they can do damage by misrepresenting what they claim to interpret. (I just watched a docum on samurai sword making: the craftsman was uttering a sôka gakkai chant that the narrator called an 'ancient shinto prayer'). But I honestly think all religious systems evolve, splinter, and re-imagine themselves into new formats. And of course a tension arises between capital T-radition and its mutineers. I in no way mean to suggest that H has done a disservice in this regard.

"And those who didn't, weren't and aren't considered Zen masters. "

This is just where I tend to part ways a little bit. I say this with about dozen volumes of the 'Zen no goroku" series, which includes a number of poets and philosophers who were thoroughly unorthodox (and often ill-regarded at the time). Granted, many are from Chinese systems, but they none the less have canonical legitimacy as espousers of some form of Zen, even if they were total loons in behaviour.

Anyway, great blog: great comments. Really grateful for the chance to be prodded into thinking about these things more.

-A devoted reader

And I appreciate the analogy -- although I think the bestiality reference is pushing it a bit. But clearly there was a lot of misinterpretation and miscommunication here. Tellingly, Hartman speaks of this book as having him got into kyudo in the first place -- just like Lobsang Rampa no doubt inspired more than a few Tibetologists. That's not to legitimise their work as scholarship, of course. But I treat Herrigal's book as an interesting case study in the folly and difficulties of intercultural communication at a time when resources were rather slim. (I have a bigger issue with the slew of 'me in Japan' books that still engage in this business of explaining the exotic other through robot maids and pachinko parlours.)

I suppose his fault was in being too adamant that kyudo IS zen, rather than just saying that some practice kyudo in attempting to attain certain states of mind. I mean, if excrement can lead to satori, as the 'Blue Cliff Records' suggest, than I suppose an arrow could do the same. I am convinced that the realm of whatever might be a 'zen' experience extends beyond the institution's claims. And I would say the same thing about Catholic spirituality or Islamic mysticism for that matter. The issue here is Herrigal's presentation, his mode of assurance and universality, I think . . .

Yeah, the bestiality thing was over the top, in retrospect. On the other hand, Herrigal was a Nazi. (On the other other hand... "Zen at War".)

Re the old masters, I think we may be talking at cross-purposes. If we're talking about the same Zen no goroku series, I only have a couple of volumes but as far as I can tell it does indeed focus on people within the tradition: Daruma of course, the Sixth Patriarch, Shenhui, Huihai, Huangpo, Zongmi, Dahui, etc. All of these, whatever outrageous things they might have said and done, meet the bare minimum requirement of joining and maintaining membership in the institution. (Although I understand there are some arguments that Daruma invented the institution and his connections were made up later... in which case, a big point for you.)

There are some exceptions, though: Layman Pang (but note that his title positions him relative to the tradition if not in it), and Hanshan (this one is definitely an example of what you are talking about).

I also have no idea what might be in the two "Shoki no Zenshi" volumes -- my knowledge of Zen history weakens the further back into the past you go. I wouldn't be surprised if in the early stages of the tradition's formation there were a lot of wild cards floating around, but I think this is a sort of special case.

A friend of mine directed me to this blog. It is nice to see that Prof. Yamada's article has generated such interest.

Prof. Yamada recently expanded his original paper into a book, called "Shots in the Dark", which I was also privileged to translate. You can buy it from Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Shots-Dark-Japan-Buddhism-Modernity/dp/0226947645/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1284282812&sr=1-1

If you are interested how things get "Zennified", it makes for interesting reading.

Archery is Japan has always been viewed as being a path of self-cultivation. It just has nothing to do with Zen meditation, that's all.

And of course I bow to my teacher? Who would not? Not sure what Alex means by "name-dropping", though.

The question is not what state of mind one gets through the practice of archery. The question is what state of mind one needs to get to become skillful in archery. If one practices archery just to get some sort of "state of mind", whatever one thinks that might be, one can fool oneself into thinking that one has achieved it, regardless of the actual consequences of one's shot, and most especially if one has a preconceived notion of what this state of mind is supposed to be. One's practice then becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

This is backwards: what is really going on is that true skill in archery requires a certain state of mind. One thereby can gauge whether one has this state of mind by the level of one's skill. This state of mind can only be achieved through the perfection of physical technique. Without this, the proper state of mind cannot be reached. The physical is the gateway to the spiritual.

However, being a Japanese art, what is even more important from a spiritual and self-cultivation point of view is dedication to practice. Unstinting practice, regardless of the level of skill one might or might not attain, is considered a spiritual path in and of itself.

Awa Kenzo was a superb archer. The records of his skill and achievements are a matter of public record. He developed his supposed disdain for accuracy in shooting only after he had achieved pretty much all of the records one could achieve. He was developing his art and his approach at a time in Japan when an argument was brewing about how kyudo was going to be standardized for mass dissemination in Japan. Awa wanted to give it a self-consciously religious and spiritual cast and to de-emphasize skill and accuracy, which had always been the first and foremost consideration (except for certain traditional ceremonies). In Awa's time there was no national standard for archery and each traditional school taught archery in its own way, and there was serious competition among the various traditional schools as to who was going to be "the first among equals" so to speak, in this process. Needless to say, Awa's open disparagement of he traditional schools, which he himself had learned, did not, needless to say, sit well with his peers who decided not to abandon the traditional ways as Awa had done.

Thanks for dropping by, Earl! This has been an excellent thread. Apart from the bestiality restaurants. My bad.

As a zen practitioner, aikido practitioner, and someone who has read Herrigal's book, I'd have to say don't bother reading it for anything other than academic reasons. As has already been stated above, there are definite flaws surrounding it.
In my experience (and from what I've read) Zen was adopted by the warrior class to help them do their jobs better. It has just persisted in the martial arts (the -do ones at least) to supply them with a practical reason to continue in the modern world.

The founder of aikido was a little out there himself. Although he never practiced Zen, his teachings run parallel to the spirit of Zen, but a bit on the mystical side. But anyone who knows anything about Japanese culture should know that the Japanese don't really pick one philosophy and practice it exclusively.

A much better book that I think does what Herrigal was intending is <i>One Arrow, One Life</i> by Kenneth Kushner. I've kind of felt that D.T. Suzuki didn't really get Zen even though he intellectually understood some of the main points. (kind of the empty your cup situation) <i>Zen and the Art of Archery</i> gives me the same feeling. (In both their defenses, I think we're in a better position to be critical of them since we're a little better educated in Zen after almost 100 years.)

Thanks for your blog. A few months ago I spent a couple weeks going through the first half of your archives.

Earl, how would you feel if your institutional allegiances--whose paperweights you use in your art of self-promotion--were to be scrutinized? Maybe the whole of kyudo is just post-fascist militarism that's sublimated itself into more socially acceptable models. Hence its popularity with the Japanese upper classes, who can afford the gear, and have sufficient leisure time to put on the hakama. Like any other iemoto system, the pyramid makes the profit.

Now, I'm not saying that is the case by any means. But I've heard the argument made against judo and tea ceremony--so it could find its way in your direction eventually. It seems pretty self-orientalizing to me to take up these hobbies anyway.

Yamada runs the risk of perpetuating this idea that Westerners are hapless fantasists. His book is based on a tired dichotomy of real/fake with very little operating room in the middle. The end result is that same floating signifier of inscrutable Japaneseness, that only the Japanese can properly expound upon (as well as their certified disciplines--hence what I meant about the name dropping.)

It does sell books, however.

Just dropping my two cents worth having practiced kyudo for twenty years in a school that arose at the same time as Awa's school. In fact my previous master's master had Awa sensei come to practice with him. My Previous master, also by the way was a research assistant for DT Suzuki as well. Having read and studies translations of essays written at the time as well as practicing in this tradition I can say that Herrigel got it pretty well right.

The only real debate is whether these schools are idiosyncratic or whether modern kyudo has drifted from its roots.

I can say this that Herrigel's descriptions of his teaching are consistent with kyudo schools that are still in existence. Modern Kyudo differs from this approach somewhat but this is insufficient to negate Herrigel's experience.

Awa sensei was a strong and eccentric man but essays from my school written at the same time demonstrate a strong consistency with Herigels experience and shows that Awa sensei was not unique in his approach.
Ted