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The Mainichi
6 days ago
- The Mainichi
Retracing the steps of Japanese literary scholar Keene along 'The Narrow Road to Oku'
It was in the late spring of 1955 that Japanese literature scholar Donald Keene first traveled to northeastern Japan's Tohoku region to follow the steps of Edo period poet Matsuo Basho (1644-1694) in his masterwork "Oku no Hoshimichi," which Keene later translated as "The Narrow Road to Oku." Seventy years later, in April 2025, admirers of Keene including this reporter undertook the same journey. We called it "a journey following the young Keene, who followed Basho." The first leg of the trip took us to the town of Matsushima in Miyagi Prefecture, the town of Hiraizumi in neighboring Iwate Prefecture, and Yamadera temple in Yamagata Prefecture, where we were greeted by cherry blossoms in each location. Keene's initial journey took place near the end of his two years of study at Kyoto University from 1953. In an autobiography, he wrote, "For a time, I had considered actually walking the entire distance. ... In any case, unlike Basho, I could spend only a few weeks on these travels." He also wrote that "at every spot the cherry blossoms had just reached their peak," meaning that he likely traveled there between mid and late April. Details of this journey were published in the June 1955 issue of the literary magazine Chuo Koron under the title "Komo Oku no Hosomichi" (loosely translating as "Westerner's narrow road to Oku). Below, we draw on this travelogue, originally written in Japanese, and Keene's translation of "The Narrow Road to Oku." Shiogama After passing through Nikko and Shirakawa Barrier, Keene arrived in Sendai. At that time, the occupying forces were still stationed in the city, likely reminding him of his past role as a Japanese language interpreter for the military. On arriving at Shiogama Shrine in the evening, he first sought out the "lantern presented by Izumi no Saburo in the third year of Bunji [1187]," and wrote, that he was thrilled to realize that Basho had seen the same lantern. The lantern still stands as it did then, to the right of the main hall. Let's read Keene's translation of "The Narrow Road to Oku." Shiogama Early the next morning we visited the Myojin Shrine in Shiogama. As rebuilt by the governor of the province, the shrine has imposing pillars, colorfully painted rafters, and flight upon flight of stone steps. The morning sun was shining brightly on the vermilion lacquered fence around the shrine. I was profoundly impressed to think that it was typical of our country for the miraculous manifestation of the gods to have occurred in so distant a place, at the very end of the world. Before the shrine is an old lantern. A metal door bears the inscription, "Presented by Izumi no Saburo in the third year of Bunji [1187]." It was strange how these words evoked scenes of five hundred years ago. Izumi was a brave and loyal warrior whose fame has lasted to the present; there is no one who does not hold him in esteem. It has been truly said: "A man should practice the way and maintain his righteousness. Fame will follow of itself." It was already close to noon. We hired a boat and crossed to Matsushima. After another five miles on the water we arrived at the beach of the island of Ojima. Matsushima Keene entered Matsushima, one of Japan's three most scenic spots, via Tagajo, traveling by train. Having heard negative comments like "Matsushima is a dirty place" from people along the way, he boarded the sightseeing boat "preparing to be disappointed." However, a woman's voice came over the loudspeaker carefully explaining the names of the islands, and though it was raining, he said, "I was neither disappointed nor impressed." Furthermore, the twilight view from his inn was magnificent, leading him to conclude, "I was moved no less than Basho was. If 'the finest scenery in the land' exists in Japan, I believe it is in Matsushima." Perhaps this was an example of the large difference between hearing and actually seeing. Below is Keene's translation of Basho's description of Matsushima in "The Narrow Road to Oku." Matsushima No matter how often it has been said, it is nonetheless true that the scenery at Matsushima is the finest in Japan, in no way inferior to Tung-t'ing or the Western Lake in China. The sea flows in from the southeast forming a bay seven miles across, and the incoming tide surges in massively, just as in Che-chiang. There are countless islands. Some rise up and point at the sky; the low-lying ones crawl into the waves. There are islands piled double or even stacked three high. To the left the islands stand apart; to the right they are linked together. Some look as if they carried little islands on their backs, others as if they held the islands in their arms, evoking a mother's love of her children. The green of the pines is of a wonderful darkness, and their branches are constantly bent by winds from the sea, so that their crookedness seems to belong to the nature of the trees. The scene has the mysterious charm of the face of a beautiful woman. I wonder if Matsushima was created by the God of the Mountains in the Age of the Gods? What man could capture in a painting or a poem the wonder of this masterpiece of nature? On Ojima, an island connected to the mainland that thrusts out into the sea, are the remains of the Zen master Ungo's hut, and the rock upon which he used to meditate. I caught glimpses here and there under the pines of priests who had abandoned the world. They live quietly in thatched huts from which even at that moment smoke from the fallen pine needles and cones they use as fuel was rising. I did not know what manner of men they might be, but I felt drawn to them. As I walked in their direction I could see the moon shining on the sea, and the scenery of Matsushima quite unlike what it had been during the day. I returned to the shore and took a room at an inn, a two-story building with open windows looking out over the bay. When I lay down to sleep in the breeze and the clouds, I experienced a feeling of strange pleasure. Matsushima ya / tsuru ni mi wo kare / hototogisu (Sora) At Matsushima / Borrow your plumes from the crane / O nightingales! I lay down without composing a poem, but was too excited to sleep. I recalled that when I left my old cottage I was presented by Sodo with a poem in Chinese about Matsushima, and with a tanka by Hara Anteki on Matsugaura Island. I opened my knapsack and made these poems my companions for the night. There were also hokku by Sanpu and Jokushi. On the eleventh we visited the Zuigan-ji. Many years ago, thirty-two generations before the present abbot, Makabe no Heishiro entered Buddhist orders, went to China for study, and founded this temple after his return to Japan. Later, the seven halls of the temple were rebuilt as the result of the virtuous efforts of the Zen monk Ungo. Now the temple has become a great hall of worship, the golden walls shining with a splendor worthy of Buddha's paradise. I wondered where the temple of the Holy Man Kenbutsu might be. Keene himself visited Zuiganji temple, and was moved, writing, "Having been repulsed by the gaudiness of Toshogu Shrine (in Nikko), I was impressed by the solemn beauty of Zuiganji." This was a typical reaction for Keene who preferred simplicity over extravagance. The row of cedar trees that once stood in front of the temple's gate fell to the tsunami following the March 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake and young trees now grow in their place -- a lone display of the passage of time. Keene noted that he enjoyed the famous "Koren senbei" rice crackers at a nearby teahouse saying they were delicious, so we stopped by as well. Although the building had been newly rebuilt, the delicately flavored senbei remained unchanged. Hiraizumi Keene proceeded to Hiraizumi via Ichinoseki. The persisting rain amazingly cleared, and he visited the local temple Chuson-ji amid the full bloom of cherry blossoms. He wrote, "Until I embarked on the journey of 'The Narrow Road to Oku' I couldn't understand the Japanese attachment to cherry blossoms." He drew a comparison with his visit to Yoshino in Nara Prefecture the previous year (1954). The fact that Yoshino was renowned as one of the best cherry blossom spots in the Kansai region may have raised his expectations, but he was left disenchanted with the cherry blossoms in the tourist area, which had become secularized, writing, "I noticed the lunch boxes, drunks, and vulgar music blaring from loudspeakers." Hiraizumi, on the other hand, offered a different experience. "After the long Tohoku winter, the cherry blossoms blooming in the black forest show their true beauty," he wrote. It was here that his ideal cherry blossom landscape stretched out. Among this, the brilliance of the temple's Golden Hall (Konjikido) was even more stunning. Keene praised it, saying, "Since coming to Japan, I've been captivated by wonderful Buddhist statues, feeling they embody absolute beauty. ... However, it was when I saw the inner sanctum of Chuson-ji that I was struck by beauty to the point of trembling, losing myself and entering a world beyond this one. ... I believe it is one of the finest expressions of paradise created by humans in the world." Later, Hiraizumi would be registered as a cultural World Heritage site, but Keene had already sensed its value. Incidentally, Basho visited Hiraizumi in the fifth month of the second year of Genroku (1689) according to the old lunar calendar, which would have been during the rainy season. How did Basho evaluate Hiraizumi? Let's read the original text translated by Keene. Hiraizumi The three generations of glory of the Fujiwara of Hiraizumi vanished in the space of a dream. The ruins of their Great Gate are two miles this side of the castle. Where once Hidehira's mansion stood there are now fields, and only Golden Cockerel Mountain retains its old appearance. We first climbed up to Palace-on-the-Heights, from where we could see the Kitakami, a big river that flows down from Nambu. The Koromo River circles Izumi Saburo's castle, then flows into the big river below Palace-on-the-Heights. The ruins of Yasuhira's time are on the other side of the Koromo Barrier, seemingly to protect the Nambu gateway from intrusion by the Ainu. It was at Palace-on-the-Heights that Yoshitsune and his picked retainers fortified themselves, but his glory turned in a moment into this wilderness of grass. "Countries may fall, but their rivers and mountains remain; when spring comes to the ruined castle, the grass is green again." These lines went through my head as I sat on the ground, my bamboo hat spread under me. There I sat weeping, unaware of the passage of time. natsukusa ya / tsuwamono domo ga / yume no ato The summer grasses -- / Of brave soldiers' dreams / The aftermath. unohana ni / Kanefusa miyuru / shiraga kana (Sora) In the verbena / I seem to see Kanefusa-- / Behold his white hair! The two halls of the Chuson-ji, whose wonders I had heard of and marvelled at, were both open. The Sutra Hall contains statues of the three generals of Hiraizumi; the Golden Hall has their coffins and an enshrined Buddhist trinity. The "seven precious things" were scattered and lost, the gem-inlaid doors broken by the wind, and the pillars fretted with gold were flaked by the frost and snow. The temple would surely have crumbled and turned into an empty expanse of grass had it not been recently strengthened on all sides and the roof tiled to withstand the wind and rain. A monument of a thousand years has been preserved a while longer. samidare no / furinokoshite ya / Hikari-do Have the rains of spring / Spared you from their onslaught, / Shining Hall of Gold? (Japanese original by Tadahiko Mori, The Mainichi Staff Writer and Donald Keene Memorial Foundation director) This is a spinoff article related to a 60-part Mainichi Shimbun series about Donald Keene, exploring the near-century of the Japanologist's life along with his own writings. Spinoff articles are posted irregularly. The original text of Donald Keene's autobiographies is used with permission from the Donald Keene Memorial Foundation. The foundation's website can be reached at:
Metropolis Japan
25-05-2025
- Metropolis Japan
Historic Walks Near Tokyo
Photo Credit to Iyhon Chiu (Flickr) Japan's northern Tohoku region was once a rugged land of deep mountains and wild forests. Anyone traveling there during the ordered days of the Edo period was thought to be risking life and limb for very little gain. Yet people still traveled, and one way of doing so was via the old Nikko Kaido highway. Built to safely connect Edo to the mausoleum of Tokugawa Ieyasu in Nikko, its construction had the unintended effect of solidifying the master status of one of the world's greatest poets. One of the most atmospheric historic walks near Tokyo can be found in Soka, where pine-lined paths trace the journey of haiku master Matsuo Basho. Portrait of Bashō by Hokusai, late 18th century A person would be hard-pressed not to have heard of haiku master, Matsuo Basho. His travels across Japan fine-tuned his poetic craft to such an extent that he became one of Japan's greatest cultural exports. Even now, over three hundred years after his passing, there are still few who could seriously claim to have bettered his art. Often translated as The Narrow Road to the Deep North , his most famous work, the travelogue Oku no Hosomichi , owes its inspiration to Basho's journeys into Japan's wilds, a journey he began from the Nikko Kaido highway. Beginning in what is now Kita-Senju in East Tokyo, Basho soon arrived at the highway's second post station, Soka. The city, once verdantly agricultural, is famous for its senbei rice crackers and commuter town university life, but perhaps owes a verse or two to Basho. His words, ' We barely managed to reach the post-town of Soka by nightfall. My greatest burden was the pack I carried on my thin, bony shoulders. ' An inauspicious start, perhaps, but Soka was now permanently scribed on the map. Leaving the next day, Basho traveled further, wrote deeper, and became a national legend. The city maintains its connection with Basho's Edo-era times. During those years, hundreds of pine trees were planted along the Nikko Kaido highway. These trees, including more recently planted ones, still line what is now the Soka Matsubara Promenade. It's a designated National Place of Scenic Beauty. At the time of its recognition in 2013, there were 634 pine trees lining the promenade. The city has worked hard to ensure that the legacy of Basho, as well as its own, remains accessible. Replete with reminders of Basho, the promenade follows the north-south flow of the Ayase River. It is an extension of the area's Fudabagashi Park. Standing sentinel at the entrance to the promenade as it leads north is a replica wooden Edo period bourou watchtower. Once used for spotting fires in flammable old Japan, the tower's crisp geometric shape marks the metaphorical border between Basho's old life and the new one he would come into during his travels. A beautiful touch, a little further on, is the lifesize bronze statue of Basho. He glances backwards towards the old city of Edo as he steps forward into the north. Watching over it is a verse engraved in stone by the esteemed scholar of Japanese literature, the late Donald Keene. A hagi bush-clover tree planted by Keene further honors Basho's connection with Soka. The promenade features two particularly impressive bridges. One, Yatate Bridge, was so named because of a famous line in Basho's travel diary that references the portable yatate brush-and-ink case he used to begin his writing. Yatate Bridge. Photo from Japan Travel The bridge's arched structure offers elevated views of both the pine trees and the river. Further along, an even more impressive bridge is the similarly arched Hyakutai Bridge. Inspired by the very first line of Oku no Hosomichi, hyakutai literally means '100 generations' and refers to eternity. The pines of the promenade certainly seem peacefully ageless. Given the influence of Basho's poetry, the naming of this bridge is most appropriate. As if a nationally recognized promenade wasn't enough, the city celebrates Matsuo Basho's place in its history with the annual Soka Matsubara Dream Festival. Making its debut in 2015, this relative newcomer to the summer festival scene takes place on the first weekend of July. It features some lovely night illumination of the promenade's pine trees as well as the Yatate and Hyakutai bridges. Traditional Japanese street stalls are, of course, aplenty, while boat rides along the Ayase River are a popular attraction. Each year, the organizers find new ways to appear, with some years seeing rickshaw and even hot-air balloon rides. Japan has changed incredibly since the three centuries when Basho left the old Edo capital on his journey into the wild lands. What hasn't changed, however, is the extraordinary respect and admiration that one of Japan's greatest masters continues to inspire. Small though it may have been, Soka's role in nurturing that inspiration was both real and pivotal. It's now easily enjoyed by thousands of visitors annually. Take the Tobu Skytree Line to Dokkyo Daigaku Mae Station (formerly known as Matsubara Danchi Station) to access this historic walk near Tokyo. The Soka Matsubara Promenade is just a five-minute walk from the East Exit. For easy day-trips near Tokyo, check out our other guides: Kawagoe Day Trip: Historic Streets, Sweet Shops and Edo-Era Charm Kanagawa Neighborhood Guide: Things to Do in Yokosuka
The Advertiser
25-05-2025
- The Advertiser
Beyond the ski slopes: take a hidden trail through Japan's poetic wilderness
Natagiri Pass in Tohoku sits away from Japan's popular ski trails. In 1689, the area - in the north-east of the main island of Honshu - was made famous by Japan's most famous haiku poet, Matsuo Basho, when he penned his travelogue, The Narrow Road to the Deep North. To explore the area in the thick of winter you need specialised equipment, and on an adventurous tour with walking experts, Walk Japan, I donned snowshoes to embark on a hike through deep snowfall. Without a soul in sight, the untouched trail lay before our small group like a scene from a Disney fairytale. During the 17th century, the pass was known for its lawlessness and when Basho journeyed through the forest, he feared bandits, but we had no such concerns. Inspired by the quiet beauty of the snow-laden cedar trees, we attempted our own three-line haikus, following the 5-7-5 syllable count, but our unskilled attempts were more ditty than poetry.
Metropolis Japan
22-05-2025
- Metropolis Japan
In the Footsteps of Basho
Photo Credit to Iyhon Chiu (Flickr) Japan's northern Tohoku region was once a rugged land of deep mountains and wild forests. Anyone traveling there during the ordered days of the Edo period was thought to be risking life and limb for very little gain. Yet people still traveled, and one way of doing so was via the old Nikko Kaido highway. Built to safely connect Edo to the mausoleum of Tokugawa Ieyasu in Nikko, its construction had the unintended effect of solidifying the master status of one of the world's greatest poets. The Master of Masters A person would be hard-pressed not to have heard of haiku master, Matsuo Basho. His travels across Japan fine-tuned his poetic craft to such an extent that he became one of Japan's greatest cultural exports. Even now, over three hundred years after his passing, there are still few who could seriously claim to have bettered his art. Often translated as The Narrow Road to the Deep North , his most famous work, the travelogue Oku no Hosomichi , owes its inspiration to Basho's journeys into Japan's wilds, a journey he began from the Nikko Kaido highway. Soka on the Map Beginning in what is now Kita-Senju in East Tokyo, Basho soon arrived at the highway's second post station, Soka. The city, once verdantly agricultural, is known for its senbei rice crackers and commuter town university life, but perhaps owes a verse or two to Basho. His words, ' We barely managed to reach the post-town of Soka by nightfall. My greatest burden was the pack I carried on my thin, bony shoulders. ' An inauspicious start, perhaps, but Soka was now permanently scribed on the map. Leaving the next day, Basho traveled further, wrote deeper and became a national legend. Hundreds of Trees, Hundreds of Years The city maintains its connection with Basho's Edo-era times. During those years, hundreds of pine trees were planted along the Nikko Kaido highway. These trees, including more recently planted ones, still line what is now the Soka Matsubara Promenade, a designated National Place of Scenic Beauty. At the time of its recognition in 2013, there were 634 pine trees lining the promenade and the city has worked hard to ensure that the legacy of Basho, as well as its own, remains accessible. Replete with reminders of Basho, the promenade follows the north-south flow of the Ayase River and is an extension of the area's Fudabagashi Park. Standing Watch Standing sentinel at the entrance to the promenade as it leads north is a replica wooden Edo period bourou watchtower. Once used for spotting fires in flammable old Japan, the tower's crisp geometric shape marks the metaphorical border between Basho's old life and the new one he would come into during his travels. A beautiful touch, a little further on, is the lifesize bronze statue of Basho glancing backwards towards the old city of Edo as he steps forward into the north. Watching over it all is a short verse engraved in stone by the esteemed scholar of Japanese literature, the late Donald Keene, while a hagi bush-clover tree planted by Keene further honors Basho's connection with Soka. The Two Bridges The promenade features two particularly impressive bridges. One, Yatate Bridge, was so named because of a famous line in Basho's travel diary that references the portable yatate brush-and-ink case he used to begin his writing. The bridge's arched structure offers elevated views of both the pine trees and the river, while further along, an even more impressive bridge is the similarly arched Hyakutai Bridge. Inspired by the very first line of Oku no Hosomichi, hyakutai literally means '100 generations' and refers to eternity. The pines of the promenade certainly seem peacefully ageless, and given the influence of Basho's poetry, the naming of this bridge is most appropriate. Soka's Tribute Festival As if a nationally recognised promenade wasn't enough, the city celebrates Matsuo Basho's place in its history with the annual Soka Matsubara Dream Festival. First held in 2015, this relative newcomer to the summer festival scene is held on the first weekend of July and features some lovely night illumination of the promenade's pine trees as well as the Yatate and Hyakutai bridges. Traditional Japanese street stalls are, of course, aplenty, while boat rides along the Ayase River are a popular attraction. Each year, the organizers find new ways to appear, with some years seeing rickshaw and even hot-air balloon rides. Japan has changed incredibly since the three centuries when Basho left the old Edo capital on his journey into the wild lands. What hasn't changed, however, is the extraordinary respect and admiration that one of Japan's greatest masters continues to inspire. Small though it may have been, Soka's role in nurturing that inspiration was both real and pivotal and is now easily enjoyed by thousands of visitors annually. Getting There Take the Tobu Skytree Line to Dokkyo Daigaku Mae Station (formerly known as Matsubara Danchi Station). The Soka Matsubara Promenade is a five-minute walk from the East Exit.
New York Times
22-04-2025
- New York Times
Why Japan Is Best Experienced By Foot
Japan's most celebrated poet, writing in the 17th century under the name of Matsuo Basho, found his truest home on the road. Sleeping on a grass pillow, seeking out auspicious places from which to watch the full moon rise, living not quite as a Zen priest and not quite as a layman, he is best remembered for the monthslong travels he took on foot. Yes, sometimes he found a horse to ride but, most often, he was traipsing along in straw sandals, engaging with fellow travelers — an aging priest, two itinerant concubines — and keeping a diary (in poetry and prose) of what he saw and felt. The country that changed modern culture and design, from A to Z In giving voice to what he called this 'windswept spirit,' he was consciously following in the footsteps of a great line of spiritual ancestors famous for their long walks. The elderly monk Zoki headed out toward the shrine-filled pathways of the eastern forests known as Kumano in the 10th century, sleeping at times in a shelter made of branches, recording the wistful cries of deer, the rustle of autumn insects. A century and a half later, a courtier named Saigyo gave up his position as a palace guard to become a wandering poet and monk. Basho even invokes the 13th-century nun Abutsu, who in her mid-50s made the two-week walk along the Tokaido, the crowded seaside highway leading from the official capital of Kyoto to the de facto one at Kamakura, to present an inheritance claim in a court of law. Roaming in the wake of such immortals, as he considered them, Basho thought of his walks as a spiritual discipline. In making his climactic journey along what he called 'the narrow road to the deep north,' he was visiting not just a remote part of his country but the neglected corners of himself, otherwise obscured by society and routine. The full moon he sought is a classic Buddhist image of enlightenment. Nobody could claim that walking is peculiar to Japan; Chaucer had sent his pilgrims toward Canterbury centuries before Basho was born. But Japan has long given the world an image of men and women quitting the busy world for a life of clarity and simplicity. In his classic essay on walking, Henry David Thoreau might have been drawing on the Basho who wrote, 'My solitude shall be my company and my poverty my wealth.' Explore More Read the editor's letter here. Take a closer look at the covers. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
