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II INTRODUCTION TO ZEN AND JAPANESE CULTURE

No complete discussion of haiku is possible without mentioning Zen. Yet the Zen content of haiku is little understood and often ignored by would-be writers of English haiku. Zen Buddhism has its roots in the religion founded in India by Gautama, the first form of which was Theravada or Hinayana (Lesser Vehicle) Buddhism, a later development being Mahayana (Greater Vehicle) Buddhism. When it entered China, the Indian religion assimilated elements of Taoism and Confucianism and found practical expression in Ch'an (Zen) Buddhism. Chinese painting and poetry were permeated with these religious influences. Eventually, the several branches of Buddhism, along with Chinese literature and art, were introduced into Japan, where they came into contact with Shinto, the indigenous religion of the country. The search for the satori of Zen was associated with several typically Japanese forms of art—Noh, the tea ceremony, flower arranging and the code of chivalry. These religious and artistic influences all culminate in the Zen satori, or moment of enlightenment, the concept of which will be examined briefly later.

BUDDHISM, TAOISM AND CONFUCIANISM

Zen is a development of the Buddhism founded in India by Gautama Buddha in the sixth century B.C. In his first sermon, Gautama taught that there are two extremes to be avoided—sensual indulgence and self-mortification. By avoiding the two extremes he gained the enlightenment of the middle path. The Four Noble Truths of the middle path are, first, the Truth of Pain or Suffering—the pains of birth, old age, sickness, death, union with the unpleasant, separation from the pleasant and the pain of not obtaining what one wishes; secondly, the Truth of the Cause of Pain, which is craving—lustfulness, the craving for existence and the craving for nonexistence; thirdly, the truth of the Cessation of Pain: that is, the cessation of craving and detachment from it; and lastly, the Truth of the Path that Leads to the Cessation of Pain—the eightfold path, the final goal of which is Nirvana. Nirvana is a transcendent state free of craving, suffering and sorrow, the state of freedom from the self and absorption into the great Self, analogous to that of a candle held against the sun; the candle retains its identity yet merges with the light of the sun. The essence of the doctrine of Gautama may be summed up as transience and detachment—the transience of life and the detachment from its joys and sorrows which is necessary for the faithful. These two religious notions are prevalent in haiku.

As Buddhism developed, the earlier version came to be known as Hinayana or Theravada (Lesser Vehicle) Buddhism, a later version as Mahayana (Greater Vehicle). The essential difference between the two is that, whereas the goal of Hinayana Buddhism is Nirvana, Mahayana Buddhism teaches that men who attain Buddhahood should turn in compassion towards their fellow men, who are all capable of being saved. The Buddhist saints who help men to attain salvation are known as bodhisattvas. According to W. E. Soothill's abridged version of The Lotus of the Wonderful Law, "through the inspiration and compassionate care of these bodhisattvas, all men may ultimately achieve salvation."¹ As Soothill's summary indicates, those who held the earlier teaching of Gautama did not necessarily receive the new doctrine with enthusiasm:

[Buddha] is aware that many who have followed his earlier teachings, including the practice of severe disciplines, will feel cheated rather than be rejoiced . . . that Buddhahood is open to all . . . rather than only to the few who have prepared themselves for the attainment of Nirvana. These are identified as followers of the Hinayana.²

Mahayana Buddhism was further developed by the Chinese and Japanese who adapted it to the culture of their countries. The Chinese fused it with Taoism and Confucianism and, incorporating the special Indian type of meditation called Dhyana, developed a new form of Buddhism, known as Ch'an (Zen). The Japanese welcomed all of these branches of Chinese religion and fused them with Shinto to produce new Buddhist forms, including Zen. All of these strains, but especially Zen, provided a rich cultural background for haiku.

Taoism, based on the writings of Lao-tsu (in Japanese, Roshi), dating from the sixth century B.C., received further development from Chuang-tzu (Soshi; 364?-286? B.C.). The word Tao (literally, "the Way") also refers to the principle of all things, antedating all things and forming their substance. It is spiritual (and therefore invisible), inaudible, vague and elusive; yet there is in it form and essence. It is nonbeing in the sense that it is prior to and above all things, and in its operation it is characterized by wu-wei (no action), by which is meant no unnatural action. (This may be analogous to the Greek notion of primeval stasis.) Natural action, which leads to a life of peace, harmony and enlightenment, is compared to weak, yielding things—water, woman, an infant. There is nothing better than water for attacking strong, hard things. The great stress on natural simplicity and on a life of plainness—in which profit is discarded, cleverness abandoned, selfishness eliminated and desires reduced —is essentially a romantic emphasis. Lao-tsu also emphasized the phenomenon of change. Yet all things are one, for Tao embraces them and combines them, uniting transcendental mysticism with dynamic realism. The outstanding characteristic of popular Taoism is its simple desire for heaven, according to an early Japanese Buddhist, Kukai, who wrote of the ten stages of religious experience.

The mind infantile and without fears.

The pagan hopes for birth in heaven, there for a while to know peace.

He is like an infant, like a calf that follows its mother.³

In the interaction of the two religions, Taoists assimilated Buddhist ideas while Buddhism took over Taoist philosophic terms as well as the concepts of being and nonbeing. Taoism's greatest influence on Buddhism was in the development of Zen Buddhism. As an example of Taoist influence on haiku, there is a poem by Basho which is almost proverbial among educated Japanese:

Mono ieba Kuchibiru samushi Aki no kaze

When I speak,

My lips feel cold—

The autumn wind.

This resembles closely the verse of Lao-tsu:

Those who know, speak not.

Those who speak, know not.

Miyamori Asataro writes of Basho's haiku that it is a didactic verse which means: "Keep silence, otherwise evil will overtake you."⁴

The thought of Confucius, also fused with Buddhism, was subsequently to influence Zen. Confucianism, while inculcating strong attachment to duty, emphasized the happiness flowing from obedience to the various commitments of husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters, men and their friends, rulers and their subjects. Thus society was a great, Utopian family, in which all enjoyed the rights of age and status. It was upheld by spiritual forces, especially the complex of "Love Powers" which are continually radiating from human hearts. Confucianism in Japan, in its stress on loyalty to one's superior, helped to foster the austere, Zen-loving warrior class to which Basho belonged. To haiku this religion contributed, according to R. H. Blyth, "a certain sobriety, reserve . . . brevity and pithiness, and a moral flavour that may sometimes be vaguely felt, but is never allowed to be separated . . . from the poetry itself."⁵ The rationalism of Confucius is a "classical" influence in contrast to the "romantic" influence of Taoism.

INFLUENCE OF CHINESE POETRY AND ART

Even greater than the influence of Confucianism was the effect on haiku of the Chinese poetry which entered Japan with Buddhism. This poetry, for all its romance, nostalgia, world-weariness (and also, at least according to Ezra Pound, its pure colour) is, above all, permeated with Ch'an Buddhism and Taoism. A comparison of Chinese and Japanese poetry reveals that Chinese poetry deals with vast vistas, whereas Japanese poetry tends to focus attention on the small; where Chinese poetry presents the historical past, Japanese poetry presents the individual past in an historical setting. Chinese poetry will describe space in terms of ranges of mountains, whereas Japanese poetry will describe it in the sky of day and night. Two types of Chinese poems in particular appeal to the Japanese—those speaking of a life of solitude, showing the Ch'an Buddhist influence, and those describing rain. (There are scores of synonyms for rain in the Japanese language.) Because the Chinese poet is in tune with the Taoist universe, his poetry reflects the world as in an undistorted mirror. What he expresses as personal feeling is also universal law. His poetry is suprapersonal, extrapersonal. He stands outside his own personal attitudes and regards them objectively, as do Basho and Buson, who are both particularly influenced by Chinese poetry. Basho absorbs the Chinese influence completely and then produces his own new and different poetry with almost no borrowing, as can be seen by comparing Basho's haiku with Lao-tsu's saying (see p. 30). Buson takes whole phrases from Chinese poets but puts them into new settings and gives them new meaning.

Shosho no

Kari no namida ya

Oboro-zuki

Tears

For the wild geese of Shosho;

A hazy moon.

This poem was written by Buson, as he states, while listening to the lute one evening. It echoes verses by the famous Chinese poet Senki:

—Returning Wild Geese—

Why do they so blindly depart from Shosho?

The water is blue, the sand is white, the moss on both banks green;

Should the lute of twenty-five strings be played, on a moonlit night,

With the overwhelming emotion will they not return?

Blyth states that the lute of 25 strings was played by Gao and Joei, the two daughters of Gyo, who both died at this spot. The "tears" of Buson's verse are connected with the two sisters.⁶

Chinese art, as well as Chinese poetry, reflects religion and influences haiku deeply. The romantic Chinese paintings are Taoistic in that they show men as very small beings amid overpoweringly intense landscapes. By comparison the sumi-e (black-and-white ink drawings) introduced into Japan by Zen priests are extremely simple. These intuitive drawings express the essence of the subject in a few rough, uncorrected brush strokes. This essence is more important than technique or beauty. From sumi-e developed haiga, small pictures in black and white or in simple colours on the same paper as a haiku. They either illustrate the haiku,, saying the same thing in a different way, or they reinforce it by introducing a new concept, thus deepening the meaning of the haiku. It was Zen which appropriated both Chinese art and Chinese poetry and placed them at the disposal of haiku.

SHINTO

Having gathered richness and depth in China, Mahayana Buddhism was to encounter further enriching and deepening influences: the indigenous Japanese religion, Shinto, and the Japanese genius for absorbing alien cultural strains and adding its own characteristics to them. The word Shinto means "the way of the gods." Maurius B. Jansen, Professor of History at Princeton University, describing Shinto, writes that

the spontaneous response to nature and beauty found an early and enduring focus in the cult of Shinto, with whose gods the Japanese first peopled their island home. Conceived as a relatively simple expression of awe and gratitude before the forces of nature, Shinto ritual invoked the spirits helpful to agricultural pursuits. The Sun Goddess was the highest of a myriad of deities who had brought forth the divine land of Japan. Since she was the progenitress of the Imperial clan, her cult associated religion with government and provided an important point of continuity throughout Japanese history. Shinto taught little of morality or worship, and its gods were approached by ceremonial purification and ablution.

The purification festivals are popular to this day. Recent student demonstrations by young men and women may be said to be an echo of those religious processions (in which, however, young men only took part). Jansen sees the Shinto cult as essentially

the work of an agricultural people who saw in natural settings and phenomena the condition of their survival. The association of religion with cleanliness, the seasonal communal festivals, the expression of communal joy and gratitude ... all were aspects of the joyous and uncomplicated response to nature . . . made through Shinto.⁷

The communal aspect of Shinto did dovetail nicely with the Utopian theories of Confucianism. But the Shinto word kami (translated into English by "gods") really indicates the animism which is the essence of Shinto. Animism is a primitive belief which endows even inanimate things with both life and spirit to explain two phenomena: first, the difference between a living man and a corpse (described as caused by the disappearance of life from the body), and secondly, the existence of dreams (explained as the ability of the spirit to move about.) Shinto, with its belief in the many kami or minor deities of mountains, streams and trees, is a religion of nature worship. This fact is reflected in the large part played by nature in Japanese haiku.

ZEN AND ZEN ARTS

Although Buddhism as it arrived in Japan included six sects, the Zen sect, emphasizing the practical application of doctrine, had the greatest influence on haiku.

The word Zen means "meditation." The central and most strongly stressed teaching was that through meditation one could attain satori (enlightenment), intuitive insight into what transcends logical distinctions. An aid to the attainment of satori was meditation on koan paradoxes like, "Thinking not of good, thinking not of evil, what is your own original face, which you had before you were born?"⁸ Only by ridding the mind of conscious logical distinctions and by reaching into the unconscious could one solve the koan. The intuition of Zen was not to be found by research into books. Indeed, books were frowned upon as distractions. Although the koan explanations and poems were written by Zen masters, there is a famous incident of a monk burning books because his disciples were becoming preoccupied with them. He claimed that instead of looking at the moon they were looking at the finger which was pointing to the moon. It cannot be overemphasized that false intuition, contrived insight and mere cleverness were abhorred in the practice of Zen and in the arts, as will be seen later. An analogy exists in the concept that while piety and love are great virtues, false piety and false love are great vices.

Illustrations of the spirit of Zen may be shown by three anecdotes.

The Zen master Hakuin was praised by his neighbors as one living a pure life.

A beautiful Japanese girl whose parents owned a good store lived near him. Suddenly, without any warning, her parents discovered she was with child.

This made her parents angry. She would not confess who the man was, but after much harrassment at last named Hakuin.

In great anger the parents went to the master. "Is that so?" was all he would say.

After the child was born it was brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his reputation, which did not trouble him, but he took very good care of the child. He obtained milk from his neighbors and everything else the little one needed. A year later the girl-mother could stand it no longer. She told her parents the truth—that the real father of the child was a young man who worked in the fishmarket.

The mother and father of the girl at once went to Hakuin to ask his forgiveness, to apologize at length, and to get the child back again.

Hakuin was willing. In yielding the child, all he would say was: "Is that so?"⁹

Hakuin was detached from his reputation. He had an enlightened view of the true value of things in this life. Like the resurrected Lazarus in Browning's poem "The Epistle," he was undisturbed by events which would upset an unenlightened man. For Hakuin, contradictions and disturbances were harmonized in a unity of a higher order.

A second anecdote concerns the master Sosan. His disciple Doshin asked him how to become free. Sosan in turn asked Doshin who bound him. The disciple had to admit sheepishly that no one bound him. "Why then do you seek freedom?" said the master.¹⁰

This anecdote illustrates the Zen adept's avoidance of dialectic. Sosan went right to the heart of the problem. Who bound him? The disciple wanted to philosophize. He was seeking an excuse for his faults in his imagined lack of liberty. He was devious and unenlightened. The master of Zen, on the other hand, condemns convoluted thinking. For him, ordinary, everyday life and behaviour are the real way of Zen.

Lastly, a monk asked Joshu, "Has a dog Buddha-nature or not?" The monk answered: "Mu." The answer mu or wu is the prefix "non" or "no," but it also imitates the "woof" that a dog might answer if asked the question. This mu or nothingness is the road to enlightenment.

While meditating on koan such as the anecdote of Joshu's dog, the monks used haiku, haiga (haiku pictures) and other arts as disciplines to foster enlightenment and awareness of essences; according to Asano Nagatake, Director of Tokyo's National Museum, "a new kind of artistic endeavor was born as disciples tried to express spiritual concepts in objective form."¹¹ Earle Ernst explains the nature of existence as taught in Japanese Buddhism:

Existence consists in the interplay of a plurality of elements whose true nature is indescribable and whose source is unknown. Combinations of these elements instantaneously flash into existence and instantaneously disappear, to be succeeded by new combinations of elements appearing in a strict causality. . . . The only concrete reality is the moment, which like the image from a single frame of motion picture film is. . . followed by a new and different frame and image. The visible world is therefore flamelike, shifting and evanescent, possessed of no durable validity.¹²

It must be stressed that the Japanese artist, too, regards the world of perception as having no permanence, only brief flashes of actuality. He merely records; he does not interpret. He concentrates on single moments of time and space.

Bushido (the way of the warrior), based on Zen and Confucian principles, stresses frugality of life, benevolence and righteousness. Bushi means "samurai, warrior"; do means "way." Bushido is "the way of the samurai" or simply "chivalry." Loyalty to the warrior's lord is more important even than loyalty to the laws of the country or to the duties towards the family. If a conflict arose between the two, the duty to the lord should be performed, followed by seppuku (suicide by disembowelment) to atone for the offense against the law or against family ties. In modern Japan lifelong loyalty and service to one's employer go far beyond anything found in Western countries. Thus Basho, a young man from a samurai family, first became interested in haiku out of loyalty to his young lord, a haikai-lover who died at an early age. The Zen frugality and simplicity of living arrangements; the mingled sense of pride and tragedy flowing from the spirit of sacrifice epitomized by samurai suicides; these are the chief contributions of bushido to haiku.

The Zen Buddhist concept of life as a succession of moments, whose meaning is to be captured by openness to the significance of each event as it occurs, gave birth to many new arts. One of these is cha no yu (the tea ceremony). According to Asano, its purpose was "to look quietly into oneself and to appreciate nature while meditating within a rustic teahouse."¹³ Each part of the teahouse is a work of art having a certain symbolism. The overhang of the roof above the entrance indicates the changeability of the weather and of human life. The opening is small (three feet square), so that the guest must humble himself by stooping. Outside the house the stepping-stones, the water basin and the stone lantern indicate a willingness to be used: the stones to be trodden upon; the water to remove the dirt of the hands and mouth in the ceremonial purification; the wick of the lantern to be consumed. The teahouse itself is small and simple (nine feet square or smaller) suggesting refined poverty by the simple materials chosen carefully. The founders of the tea ceremony emphasized harmony and respect among the guests and utensils, cleanliness and the tranquillity flowing from the unhurried handling of aesthetically beautiful articles mellowed by long and loving use. If enlightenment is not attained within the teahouse, at least the guest is reminded of the proper spirit in which to meditate and his whole being is opened to the workings of events.

Ikebana, flower-arranging, demands a steady concentration on nature, a union with it, and a reduction of its complexity by a limiting of its profusion of material to the point where its true nature is shown. The components of a classical flower arrangement represent seven elements—the mountain peak, a waterfall, a hill, the foot of the mountain, the town and the division of the whole into in (shade) and yo (sun). In and yo also represent yin and yang, passive and active, the female and male principles of Taoist philosophy. The three branches in some arrangements are called shin (truth), soe (supporting) and nagashi (flowing). Their asymmetric form suggests the universe. The principle of compression of nature as found in ikebana is an aid to Zen enlightenment. It is similar to the compression of haiku, which records an image of nature at a significant moment.

The discipline of concentration and economy of means which characterizes ikebana is also found in Noh, where the isolation of a significant moment is the visual climax in a performance. Stillness represents a perfect balance of opposed forces. Stillness also represents movement; for example, the actor, in slowly raising one still hand to within a few inches of the eyes, represents passionate weeping. There is a strange contradiction between the reality of the feelings and the conventionality of the acting. The dream world is yet the real world.¹⁴ Noh represents a series of important single moments in the wheel of life, in contrast to the Western emphasis on flow shown in the actor's face.

In all these varied activities, satori is the element constantly sought. In the examination of Zen arts, four things have been noted—contemplation of nature, meditation on koan, bushido and artistic expression—in poetry, visual art, the theatre, flower arranging and the tea ceremony. In all these the constant element was the search for, or expression of, satori, the end and aim of Zen life. Satori gives man a new viewpoint, a new way of seeing the ordinary things of life.

Daisetz Teitaro Suzuki, the great Zen scholar, has pointed out that two men can look at the same thing, one without the viewpoint of Zen, and one with this viewpoint:

The object of Zen discipline consists in acquiring a new viewpoint for looking into the essence of things. . . . You and I are supposedly living in the same world, but who can tell that the thing we popularly call a stone that is lying before my window is the same to both of us? You and I sip a cup of tea. That act is apparently alike to us both, but who can tell what a wide gap there is subjectively between your drinking and my drinking? In your drinking there may be no Zen, while mine is brim-full of it. The reason for it is: you move in a logical circle and I am out of it.¹⁵

The man without satori is too logical. Satori is "intuitive looking-into, in contra-distinction to intellectual and logical understanding; it is the unfolding of a new world hitherto unperceived."¹⁶ Satori cannot be taught; it must be sought without strain and found by each individual himself. A master, scorning books, can help a disciple orally, in a person-to-person contact, but actual satori can be reached and experienced by the individual only. When the conditions necessary for satori are in the mind ready to mature, a simple thing like the sound of a pebble hitting a tree, a stumble, the fragrance of a flower, the flash of colour in a bird will bring about enlightenment. Reality itself is perceived, Self is attained and the ordinary world is seen more clearly. Because satori makes life more enjoyable and meaningful, because it broadens man's horizon to include the whole universe, it is, in the opinion of the Zen Buddhist, well worth striving for.

To summarize, Zen Buddhism has grown from a centuries-old tradition of Mahayana Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism. Many Japanese arts have thrived under and by its influence. Behind the deceptively simple haiku lies the long history of an important line of Eastern thought. Zen illuminates the thought of Basho, Buson, Issa, Shiki and others and provides the essential key to the meaning of many haiku. Since the Zen content of haiku is often little understood by English would-be writers of haiku, aspects of Zen found in Japanese and English haiku will be examined in more detail in the next chapter.