A small and lovely book about Zen Buddhism, its history, philosophy and practice. I picked it up and should have gobbled it, but the past year has beeA small and lovely book about Zen Buddhism, its history, philosophy and practice. I picked it up and should have gobbled it, but the past year has been a tough one with regards to my own Zen practice, and I think I was afraid of the book. It happens. I powered through it this weekend and got out on the other side more centered than I have felt in ages. Go figure.
I gave this book 4 stars instead of 5 because as much as I enjoyed it and though it was a charming concept, it was a bit uneven: some concepts are given incredibly detailed attention, while others are just mentioned quickly without going in any deeper, some terms are used and never really explained, so someone who isn’t familiar with the lingo will not quite understand what is being discussed. It does have one of the best practical how-to about sitting zazen I have ever read, and those illustrations would be extremely useful to a beginner.
Recommended, but consider keeping a copy of the “Shambala Dictionary of Buddhism and Zen” handy, in case you should run across concepts you are unfamiliar with....more
Some books you can summarize easily and neatly. Other books, like this one, are impossible to reduce to a few sentences that can give someone an idea Some books you can summarize easily and neatly. Other books, like this one, are impossible to reduce to a few sentences that can give someone an idea of what they will find within its pages. At its core, the story told by “The Book of Form and Emptiness” is about a mother and her son, grieving the loss of a husband and father, and struggling with the demands of a world that is not built to accommodate people going through a hard time. It’s about mental illness, art, Zen, books, consumerism, the inner life on inanimate objects, what it really means to have your shit together, falling in love for the first time, accepting help... It’s beautifully written, with a tremendous amount of sensitivity and compassion, and it made me feel an awful lots of feels.
Kenji and Annabelle were an oddly matched, but deeply in love couple; they had a son named Benny and were fairly happy and satisfied with their lives and their small but cozy duplex. Until Kenji died in a rather silly accident, right behind their home. Their world begins to fray, as Benny starts to hear voices coming from various objects and Annabelle spirals into depression. When therapy is unable to help Benji, he retreats onto himself and befriends a strange girl who will shift his outlook on many things.
One of the things that struck me the hardest with this book is how terribly real all the characters felt. I found myself squirming with recognition at many points as I read about the way they are mired in their emotions, at their reactions, mistakes in attempting to communicate. The world is such a weird place when one stops to think about it, and it has very little room to accommodate people who don’t fit neatly anywhere. People who are too earnest, too gentle and too candid easily get bruised – if not crushed – by the way the world works (mostly because those qualities are viewed as weakness by those who would take advantage of them), and Annabelle and Benny learn it the hard way.
Of course, Ozerki’s final conclusion, that books can not only help but also heal, is something very close to my heart, so my rating might be a tiny bit of confirmation bias, but sue me, books have kept me alive so many times that I celebrate those who understand that truth so profoundly. The Zen Buddhist aspect also resonated strongly from me: my practice and I have not been on great terms for a while, and this made me miss it enough to reconnect with it and I am very grateful for that.
The narrative structure is very unusual, the pacing is rather slow and there is not such much a plot as there is an exploration of a moment in the life of a handful of characters, but I found this book to be a lovely surprise that took its time in revealing itself. Very recommended....more
I told my husband that while I really enjoyed reading Kobun Chino's talks, I felt that they were awkwardly edited, so this collection didn't read as sI told my husband that while I really enjoyed reading Kobun Chino's talks, I felt that they were awkwardly edited, so this collection didn't read as smoothly as I wished, and that I would have probably gotten more out of it had the editing process been a bit more rigorous.
He said: "That sounds to me like an attachment to form."
He's a smart ass, but obviously, he listens when I talk about Zen......more
My grandfather was a monk (before he married my grandmother, obviously), and he once told me: “We had to take three vows: chastity, poverty and obedieMy grandfather was a monk (before he married my grandmother, obviously), and he once told me: “We had to take three vows: chastity, poverty and obedience. Chastity isn’t great, but I managed. Poverty, I didn’t mind at all. Obedience, well, that was a big problem.” He got quite a few lectures about being stubborn and insubordinate (jeez, I wonder where I got those charming personality traits myself…) and ultimately left the Church because he was sick of people who put politics above faith in a supposedly religious institution. I thought about him a lot as I read those stories of Zen masters who had rejected the traditional structures of their religion and practiced, taught and lived in their own unique – and equally valid way. I think he would have liked them.
When you read about the history of Zen, you almost always hear stories about Boddhidharma, Dogen, Joshu. They were very important in the history of Zen, of course, but there were a lot more we don’t see mentioned in books, and “Zen Radicals, Rebels and Reformers” does for the Zen weirdos what “Zen Women” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) did for, well, Zen women. It won’t come as a surprise that I have a special affection for the weirdos: when I bought this book, I had no idea that Brad Warner had blurbed it, but it makes sense: he is kind of a radical himself, after all! Mostly, I wanted to know that it was possible to be an unconventional Zen nerd, and that the traditional path isn’t the only one that worked.
The life of each “Crazy Cloud” selected by Besserman and Steger is put into detailed socio-historical context, so the readers can understand how and why their rejection of rules and conventions was significant. Whether it was pointing out the corruption of the temple, teaching women (gasp!) and laymen, questioning the validity of Dharma transmission (when it could basically be bought), denouncing the elitism of the institution, these guys went against the grain, ruffled some feathers but nevertheless practiced authentic Zen, had followers, Dharma heirs and obviously left their mark on the history of their religion.
Bessman and Steger make it very clear that such wild Zen practitioners are not to be emulated lightly: these weirdos had a deep and thorough understanding of the traditions they subverted and did not make their moves out of caprice: they saw inconsistencies, contradictions and intellectual laziness creep and take root into the practice that they loved and knew that this wasn’t right, it wasn’t what the Buddha had told his followers to do. The epilogue brings the Crazy Cloud's legacy into a modern context in a most interesting way.
I loved reading about those unapologetic men who gave Dharma talks in a language that could be understood by anyone (not just by highly educated aristocracy), who welcomed women, rice-farmers and foreigners into their circle of followers, who refused to be “certified” by a process they didn’t trust. The historical details provided in each chapter also paints a fascinating picture of medieval Japan, a time and place not often mentioned in Western history book. There’s often a certain orientalism with Western Buddhist students (and I’ve definitely gotten caught in that myself a few times), who have a very highly glamorized image of the day and age of the Zen masters of old: it’s refreshing to be reminded that there was so much social and political unrest, civil wars, assassination attempts and coups…
If you are interested in the history of Zen Buddhism, I wouldn’t hesitate to pick up a copy of this book!...more
Gabrielle (Reading Rampage)
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