Re-Reading Basho by Ronald Tobey

Re-reading a Classic

Bashō, Narrow Road to A Far Province

1. Political Enlightenment

I have long loved the journal poetry, Narrow Road to A Far Province (1694)*, by the Japanese master of

haiku poetry, Matsuo Bashō. When in college, I read collections of haiku translated in English, in which Bashō was well represented; but it was not until a decade later that I read his great travel story. In this essay,

I discuss two nonliterary frameworks for his journey and poems in “Narrow Road”, that help me to

understand his poetry journey—nationalistic-political and religious-Buddhist,.

English sources tell us little about the poet. Bashō (1644-1694) was of samurai descent. His father was peasant with some samurai privileges. Basho became

a servant to a poetry-writing samurai, but was never himself promoted to the samurai caste. His lord died in

1666. Bashōapparently renounced any samurai ambitions he might have had and moved to Edo (Tokyo), the capital

city, to devote himself to poetry and Buddhism. His move put him at the center of the recently unified state and its cultural and religious life. 

The move also resembled the story of the Buddha himself. Buddha was born into the warrior caste. He eventually

renounced warfare and his status to devote himself to his religious-philosophical teachings. Bashō’s story fits into a religious convention. 

We should also notice the timing of Bashō’s decision to forsake dreams of the samurai sword. His decision came after the unification of Japan by the family of Shogun Ieyasu Tokugawa,

a process completed by 1615. Edo was made the center of the state administrative bureaucracy. The Tokugawa period thus initiated an era of national

unity and civil peace. Relinquishing the sword, whether dream or actuality, symbolized Bashō’s participation in the new national power. 

Bashō certainly understood what it meant to be in a new political order. Is it possible that Bashō’s poetry was not simply a contribution to Japan's poetic tradition, but also a political statement? The histories I have read ignore the political point of Bashō’s Narrow Road to A Far Province, his poetry, and his tale, but Bashō did not try to hide it. 

Early in his journey, he visited Mount Nikko, the site of a famous temple. He was filled with awe by the mountain beauty and its religious center. He wrote:

In olden times, the name of this mountain was written "Ni-ko," using the Chinese characters for "two" and "wild," but when Saint Kukai built a temple

here, he changed the characters to "Nik-ko," meaning "sun" and "light." He must have foreseen what was to come a thousand years later, for now the august

light of the Tokugawa rule illumines the whole firmament, and its beneficent rays reach into every corner of the land so that all the people may live in security

and peace.[P. 33]

Among other matters, Tokugawa rule meant that a religious pilgrim could safely journey to any shrine anywhere on the island. The state supported Zen Buddhism temples and teachers. Free worship of Buddhism became a benefit of the new political order and its exercise in turn supported national political power. I read Bashō’s tale as a masked political apologia. As we shall see in Bashō’s discussion of "behind the falling water," in the next section, Bashō veiled his political apologia behind descriptions that are metaphors. 

2. Behind the Waterfall

One of Bashō's metaphors concerns a waterfall near Mt. Nikko, that Bashō visited on the fourth day of his journey. The waterfall was famous for the view provided from behind, looking out through the curtain of falling water.

Here is Bashō's description.

A mile or so up the mountain was a waterfall. The water seemed to take a flying leap and drop a hundred feet from the top of the cave into a green pool

surrounded by a thousand rocks. One was supposed to sidle into the cave and enjoy the falls from behind, hence its name Urami-no-Taki, "the Waterfall

Viewed from Behind."

There we did begin,
Cloistered in that waterfall,
Our summer discipline. [P. 34]

The waterfall offers several religious and political metaphors upon which Bashō draws thematically throughout his story. First, viewing the waterfall from behind epitomized Buddhist doctrine. According to the Buddha, human life is suffering;

but the suffering can be escaped by abandoning sensual and material desires. The waterfall symbolizes the ever-changing stream of phenomenal experience derived

from the incessant activity of our bodily senses and physical needs. To begin the Buddhist journey to peace, we must go behind the stream of experience.

Since the waterfall is a veil,

the imagery references a fundamental quest for the Buddhist: Go behind the veil.

Bashō's haiku expresses a seond Buddhist theme. Buddhism was a missionary religion, which involves going out into the world. It also valued, not paradoxically, monastic

withdrawal from the world.

The monasteries were cloisters where disciples learned a strict routine of prayer, hence, discipline. The monasteries sought and represented the high value

purity of not desiring anything,

separating from worldly obsessions.

The waterfall also provided a political metaphor. By unifying Japan, the Tokugawa reign enabled travelers, such as Basō, to pass through the boundaries and barriers that had previously divided Japan into its feudal territories. Those boundaries were symbols, like the waterfall,

of the suffering and transitory cravings

created by zealous pursuit of worldly goods, i.e., feudal quest for power that divided the nation. When the traveler went beyond the old boundary, he could

turn around and look back through it.

The view back would be analogous to viewing the waterfall from behind.

Crossing the boundary and looking back through it becomes Bashō's template for organizing ideas, values, and historical knowledge. The template unifies behavior, spiritual values, and political allegiances in a ritualized

gesture of going through a limit and turning

around to look back over the path and boundary. It implicitly celebrates Tokugawa rule, which made such travel and gestures possible at all. The gesture is

fundamental to Basho's narrative as a political apologia.

3. Fears and Sadness

The title of Bashō's journal appears in the journal's text. In a passage describing the arrival of Basho and his companion at a memorial stone at

the village of Ichikawa, about 400 miles north of Tokyo, Bashō wrote: 

"Using Kaemon's drawings as our guide, we found ourselves on a road called Oku-no-Hosomichi, 'The Narrow Road to a Far Province,'

which wound along the foot of some hills." [P. 49]

A passage follows about the Tsubo Stone:

"The Tsubo Stone stands on the site of Taga Castle in the village of Ichikawa. The stone is over six feet high and about three feet wide.

It was covered with moss, and the inscription was difficult to read.

After giving the mileage of the provincial boundaries, it stated: "This castle was built in the First Year of Jinki [724] by General Azuma-Udo,

Lord of Ono, who was sent to the Northern Provinces by his Majesty.

It was repaired in the Six Year of Tempyo-hoji [762] by Imperial Councillor, General Asakari, Lord of Emi, Governor of the Northeastern Provinces.

The first day of the Fifth Moon." [Pp. 49-50]

I have seen different translations of the title of Bashō's published journal. Instead of "Far Province," other translators have used "Deep North" and "Far Frontier." At least to an English reader, the notion of a

frontier better conveys the description (and inscription) of the Tsubo Stone.

Japan was once an empire only in name. Beyond the closely held imperial region around Tokyo, feudal controls fell apart and lawlessness

(from an imperial point of view)

frequently prevailed.

The lands beyond the boundary of law were frontiers,

familiar to English readers from English history (Scotland) and the American West (the territories).

Bashō was walking the northern boundaries that historically divided imperial law and order from frontier violence. As he reached each day's

destination, he was reminded of the

military struggles associated with it and the honorable

deaths of warriors. These historical memories subliminally affect his psychology, for he worried about misadventure

in mountains and feared some of his guides

[" 'Something untoward always happens on this route,' said our guide

with relief as he took his leave. 'I was indeed fortunate to have brought you through safely.' " [P. 60]

He made seven memorial references in the first half of the journal to military history. 

"When I heard it was this very shrine whose deity was invoked by Yoichi of Nasu when he cried, 'Hachiman, O Guardian God of my native land!'

as he aimed his desperate arrow at the fan

suspended from the tossing enemy boat,

my heart stirred within me." [P. 36]

"One ancient hero, writes Kiyosuke, straightened his helmet as he passed this barrier and donned new robes." [P. 40]

"It was upon this hill that the famous warriors' castle once stood. We were directed to the foot of the hill, where the sight of the

foundation stones of the Great

Gate moved us deeply....One did not have to travel to far-off China

to see the 'Weeping Tomb,' for here, before this very stone, who could refrain from shedding tears?" [P.44]

" 'Where is the grave of the tenth-century poet, General of the Imperial Guard, Fujiwara-no-Sanekata?' we asked ...

There we would find the road god's shrine before which Sanekata failed to dismount, and the grave where he was buried after being fatally thrown from his horse in consequence." [P. 46]

[Of the Tsubo Stone, portions of the text previously quoted, wrote Bashō:] "This monument was made a thousand years ago and is a very real and vivid link with the past. Seeing it is one of the things that has made my trip worthwhile and one of the happiest moments of my life. Forgetting all the trials of the journey, I wept for sheer joy." [P. 50]

"Yasuhira's stronghold stood beyond the Koromo Barrier in a strategic position to guard the entrance to Nambo Province and defend it against the Ainu tribesmen of the north."[P.56]

"Chuzon-ji's two main halls, which I had heard about for so many years with wonder, were both open to public view. In the temple's Sutra Hall were the statues of the three great frontier generals, and in the Hall of Light were enshrined their coffins and the Buddhist images sacred to their spirits." [P. 57]

When these references are put together, it is clear what Bashō was doing. He admired, even if he had not had serious samurai ambitions, warriors and imperial nationalism, He was taking a patriot's tour of scenes of struggle in the establishment of imperial rule. He can usefully be compared to a Union patriot visiting United States Civil War battlefields and battlefield museums.

Bashō repeatedly inculcated ritualistic experience. He exposed himself to the horrors of the historical scene, complete with memories of victories and defeats. He was close enough to danger to feel it—perhaps a shudder or chill of fear—but safe. This exposure induced emotional turmoil—sadness often mentioned. Then he turned back, to view from behind the waterfall, to reference his primary metaphors, the expanse of territory now under the rule emanating from the Imperial Capital. This gesture brings relief, with the understanding that military had brought civil order and moral right into alignment.

4. Political-Cultural Renaissance

Traveling around Japan, Bashō wanted to meet his poetic disciples and other poets, visit landmarks made famous in poetry, and celebrate his poetic predecessors. He was accompanied by a friend and poet, Sora, who also kept a travel diary and contributed poetry. Early in his journey, on the occasion of visiting a famous shrine, Bashō composed a haiku that synthesized his allegiances to Buddhism, Tokugawa rule, national unity, and poetry. 

O holy, hallowed shrine!
How green all the fresh young leaves
In thy bright sun shine! [P. 33]

We can put the synthesis together in the following way. In the passage in which this poem appears, Bashō had just praised Tokugawa rule as the sun. The name of the temple at Mt. Nikko meant "sun" and "light". The season of the year was spring. Bashō himself sponsored a new form of haiku. It was a cultural springtime in Japan—a new beginning in politics, religion, and poetry. Bashō's Journey promoted a new cultural era.

On his travels, he met or referenced these poets /1: Saigyo, Taira-no-Kanemori, Noin, Minamoto Yorimasa, Tokyu, Fujiwara-no-Sanekata, Kyohaku, Kaemon, Sodo, Hara Anteki, Zushi Sakichi (a disciple), Gyoson, Issho (a disciple), Teishitsu, Rotsu (a disciple). This was quite a literary retinue. Bashō cited them as proof, so to speak, of the poetic renaissance now dawning in Japan.

When visiting Oishida, he had the opportunity to explain his new form of haiku to the villagers. One purpose of his travel was clear. 

The seed of the old-fashioned haikai linked verse had once been sown here [Oishida], and the people still practiced that style of verse, in love with it and unable to forget the days of its flowering. Their muse was as rustic as the sound of a reed pipe, and they trod the path of poetry with faltering step, hesitating at the crossroads, not knowing which way to take--the old or the new. They needed someone to guide them, so I left them a set of linked verse.

Who would have thought that on this, my own poetic pilgrimage, I would also be spreading abroad the Bashō style! [P. 62]

Of course, humility masks his purpose.

5. The Contemplative Landscape 

“Groping His Way” from Suffering to Enlightenment

We have one more theme in Bashō's travels to discuss, landscape. Bashō was a follower of Zen, a small sect of Buddhism, in which nature was a central philosophical concern. Bashō's allegiance to Zen was not an historical accident. The Tokugawa shogunate, in Bashō’s youth, supported Zen, making it central to their establishment of a national state.  At the same time, to prevent incursion of Christianity, which would have led to national reorientation away from Japan, the shogunate prohibited Christian missionaries from entering.  In Bashō’s century, Zen was in revival.

In terms of historical genealogy, Zen was a school within the Ch'an School or Meditation School, which came to China from India in the 6th century AD. Zen became popular in Japan in the 12th century AD. The Ch'an School was itself situated within the Mahayana School, one of the two great doctrinal divisions of Buddhism. The Mahayana School placed missionary work at the center of Buddhism, calling for Buddhists to go out into the world and convert non-Buddhists to their salvationist philosophy. As a sect, Zen renounced rational understanding of doctrine as a way to free one's self from error and pain. In Zen, the Buddhist is led to sudden insight (or realization) by contemplation, especially of nature.

Here is a long passage illustrating the Zen doctrine about nature by the Chinese philosopher, Tao Sheng (fl. 400 AD), an early advocate of ideas later identified with the Ch'an School.

"The Inner Order of Things is that of Nature. To get in mystical union with Nature is Illumination. Now, that order is free from distinctive features; Illumination, however, implies change. ... The basis of existence is unchanging, unruffled, like the surface of a pond, as long as it is not stirred by unceasing reflections of outside objects. Error has ruffled its surface and thus we have lost mastery over our fate. We grope along for a way; when we have found it we desist from erroneous moves. Returning to the original perfect state, we wonder why we ever started on the journey. For we started from the goal.... But when I studied the tendencies of life, I understood that Reality is not reflected in the images of what surrounds us here, but real is what existed before this began to exist.”

"If he [Buddha] is not called he does not appear. Not that he is not ready to appear, nay--Beings , by their indolence, cut themselves off from his presence and make it impossible for him to establish contact. The Buddha is like the sun; when he is high in the sky, all kinds of articles are reflected in the pond. The reflections and forms are shaped by the articles themselves, not by the sun. And there must be a clear pond, or else the Buddha cannot appear." /2

Contemplation of nature as a way to enlightenment was not unique to Zen, but was generally shared within Buddhism. Here is a hymn to nature (set in India) from Psalms of the Brethren and Sisters, an early Buddhist scripture.

"Those upland glades delightful to the soul,
Where the kareri [musk rose tree] spreads its wildering wreaths,
Where sound the trumpet-calls of elephants:
Those are the braes [hillsides, views] wherein my soul delights.
Those rocky heights with hue of dark blue clouds,
Where lies embosomed many a shining tarn
Of crystal-clear, cool waters, and whose slopes
the "herds of Indra" [rain clouds] cover and bedeck:
Those are the braes wherein my soul delights. ...

Here is enough for me who fain would dwell
in meditation rapt, mindful, and tense.
Here is enough for me, who fain would seek
The highest good, a brother filled with zeal. ..." /3

We can now characterize Bashō's journey to the northern provinces in terms of being a Buddhist journey. His task, as a Buddhist, was to reject the phenomenal world and free himself from bodily suffering [“And though this ephemeral world is but an illusion … (p. 39)], with the goal of reaching Enlightenment. This required him to travel. While travelling, he should try to purify himself while teaching the doctrines of Buddha. His journey should take him into nature. He was expected to lose his way. He would suffer from bad weather—rain and cold, then he would find his way to a beautiful view of nature in ideal climatic conditions for contemplating the Inner Unity of Things. This was called, "groping his way."

These elements of the traditional Buddhist journey were present in Bashō's travel. His route was confusing and occasionally so dangerous that the path could be lost: 

"The moor be all a tangle of paths and a stranger could easily go astray." [P. 35] 

"A path disappeared up a valley amidst a dark forest of pines and cryptomerias." [P. 37] 

"We asked a number of people which plant was the katsumi, but no one seemed to know." [P. 42] 

"The whereabouts of many famous places is now obscure." [P. 50] 

"Not knowing where we were, we lost our way and eventually arrives at a port town ..." [P. 55] 

"The path was hard to follow so he recommended that we hire a guide." [P. 59] 

"The river was swollen with the rains and our journey was a perilous one." [P. 63] 

"There was a curious fascination about groping our way in the dark, merely imagining the beauties that lay before us,..." [P. 69] 

"Today we passed the most perilous places in all the North. The precarious path led us over boulders at the foot of a sheer cliff against which huge waves break." [P. 72] 

" 'We do not know the way,' " she said. 'We are helpless and afraid.' " [P. 73] 

"... I did not set out until after I had eaten my evening meal, and my steps faltered as I made my way along the road in the dusk." [P. 81]

He suffered from the bad weather. 

"... though it was early summer, the air was cold." [P. 37] 

"That night there was thunder and a heavy downpour, and the roof leaked just above the place where we were lying. What with the fleas and mosquitoes, sleep was impossible. On top of that, my old complaint started up again, and I really thought I was about to breathe my last." [P. 45] 

"When we reached the summit, we were thoroughly chilled and could hardly breathe." [P. 65] 

After walking long and confusing paths, he arrived at beautiful views of nature that brought tranquility and purity through contemplation of the presence of the Inner Order of things. 

"Early the next morning, we visited Shiogama Shrine, ... The shrine was at the top of a long flight of stone steps, and its vermilion lacquered fence was brilliant in the morning sunlight. How wonderful it is in this land of ours, I thought, that even in remote and unfrequented places such as this, the divine power of the gods is omnipresent." [P. 52] 

"It has been said too many times already, but Matsushima is indeed the most beautiful place in all Japan! ... Ah! who could possibly do justice with his brush to this wondrous divine work of the Creator of the Universe or presume to describe it adequately in words!" [P. 53] 

Thusly Bashō expressed the Buddhist path from suffering to enlightenment.

Notes

*All quotations and page citations from  Bashō’s journal are from the English edition, A Haiku Journey: Bashō’s "Narrow Road to a Far Province," translated and introduced by Dorothy Britton, revised edition ([1974]Tokyo and New York: Kodansha International, 1980).  Non-English characters are printed in English form.

1. “Tokugawa Zen,” https://www.existentialbuddhist.com/tag/tokugawa-shogunate/ . Viewed October 9, 2019.

2. "Tao Sheng on Nirvana and the Buddha's Way," pp. 226-227, The Teachings of the Compassionate Buddha, edited by E.A. Burtt (The New American Library, 1955).

3. "Songs of the Wayfarers," from "Psalms of the Brethren and Sisters," pp. 75-76, ibid.

___

Ron Tobey grew up in north New Hampshire, USA, and

attended the University of New Hampshire, Durham. He lives

in West Virginia, where he raises cattle. He is an imagist

poet, expressing experiences and moods in concrete

descriptions. He occasionally uses the pseudonym, Turin

Shroudedindoubt, for artistic work. X @Turin54024117