Review by ~ Kōryū Naomi Knoble
Circle of the Way: A Concise History of Zen from the Buddha to the Modern World/ Barbara O’Brien/Shambhala Books
Do you need to know the history of Zen to start meditating? No. Do you need to know anything about Zen or Buddhist history to practice Zen at all? No, not really. Does the word “history” conjure a feeling of boredom beyond boredom? If so, it’s totally OK. Maybe this book isn’t for you right now.
At some point, though, it may be helpful to have a working understanding of some of Zen and Buddhism’s foundational ideas and influential people. When that time comes, give The Circle of the Way: A Concise History of Zen from the Buddha to the Modern World a try. And, just maybe, in this 2,000-ish year history you may find an introduction to something (Abhidharma, Yogacara) or someone (Dongshan Liangjie, Ruth Fuller Sasaki), that creates connections in your practice you didn’t even know could be there. As Barbara O’Brien observed when describing the resistance that some people have to some aspects of practice, “You never know what’s going to open the door.”
The history of Zen as told by Barbara O’Brien, a self-described “very slow [lay] Zen student,” is the messy, imperfect history of humans. In parts it reads like an epic Tolkien-worthy saga dipped in a Korean drama wrapped in Days of Our Lives. Across centuries of blood-thirsty warlords, rebellions, rivalries, social and political unrest, family squabbles, government mandates, and epic-level strife, somehow — remarkably — Buddhism and Zen practice has persisted through it all. While some of the details are lost to history, as O’Brien points out many of the ancient disputes are still relevant to us today whether or not we are aware of them. Maybe they can inform our present-day lives. For example, could the so-called epic Northern and Southern schools debate offer perspective on present day national political situations (looking at you, Democrats and Republicans)?
Barbara O’Brien also candidly addresses some of the surprising inconsistencies and seemingly factualized fictions in Buddhism and Zen, such as how the historical Buddha may be more of “a hypothesis than a person,” whether a single person named Bodhidharma really did come from the West, and how the lineage of the patriarchs was a 6th century invention by practioners in China rather than a reflection of historical fact. Does this suggest that all of Zen is an elaborate fiction in a complicated social and political landscape? Does it illustrate that Zen is a product of culture and/or somehow transcends culture? Importantly, how does knowing this context and navigating these questions impact your practice?
For me, O’Brien’s book opened more questions than it answered, which is my general experience of practice anyway. It pointed me to writings I’d never come across before, like the Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana, and illustrated the sometimes complicated relationship between governments and Zen. Does knowing that the military dictatorship (shogunate) in Japan ordered that Soto Zen use Dogen’s teachings as the basis of practice change how Dogen’s writings impact my practice? No, it doesn’t, but understanding how historical political interests shaped present-day practice has helped me see how this process may still be unfolding today. While knowing the history of Zen is not a prerequisite to embodied Zen practice, O’Brien’s introduction to so many previously unknown ancestors and the challenges they met inspires me to be a part of bringing this practice to the future. May this book inspire your practice as well. You can listen to the Q & A the All Beings Zen Sangha had with the author here.
At some point, though, it may be helpful to have a working understanding of some of Zen and Buddhism’s foundational ideas and influential people. When that time comes, give The Circle of the Way: A Concise History of Zen from the Buddha to the Modern World a try. And, just maybe, in this 2,000-ish year history you may find an introduction to something (Abhidharma, Yogacara) or someone (Dongshan Liangjie, Ruth Fuller Sasaki), that creates connections in your practice you didn’t even know could be there. As Barbara O’Brien observed when describing the resistance that some people have to some aspects of practice, “You never know what’s going to open the door.”
The history of Zen as told by Barbara O’Brien, a self-described “very slow [lay] Zen student,” is the messy, imperfect history of humans. In parts it reads like an epic Tolkien-worthy saga dipped in a Korean drama wrapped in Days of Our Lives. Across centuries of blood-thirsty warlords, rebellions, rivalries, social and political unrest, family squabbles, government mandates, and epic-level strife, somehow — remarkably — Buddhism and Zen practice has persisted through it all. While some of the details are lost to history, as O’Brien points out many of the ancient disputes are still relevant to us today whether or not we are aware of them. Maybe they can inform our present-day lives. For example, could the so-called epic Northern and Southern schools debate offer perspective on present day national political situations (looking at you, Democrats and Republicans)?
Barbara O’Brien also candidly addresses some of the surprising inconsistencies and seemingly factualized fictions in Buddhism and Zen, such as how the historical Buddha may be more of “a hypothesis than a person,” whether a single person named Bodhidharma really did come from the West, and how the lineage of the patriarchs was a 6th century invention by practioners in China rather than a reflection of historical fact. Does this suggest that all of Zen is an elaborate fiction in a complicated social and political landscape? Does it illustrate that Zen is a product of culture and/or somehow transcends culture? Importantly, how does knowing this context and navigating these questions impact your practice?
For me, O’Brien’s book opened more questions than it answered, which is my general experience of practice anyway. It pointed me to writings I’d never come across before, like the Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana, and illustrated the sometimes complicated relationship between governments and Zen. Does knowing that the military dictatorship (shogunate) in Japan ordered that Soto Zen use Dogen’s teachings as the basis of practice change how Dogen’s writings impact my practice? No, it doesn’t, but understanding how historical political interests shaped present-day practice has helped me see how this process may still be unfolding today. While knowing the history of Zen is not a prerequisite to embodied Zen practice, O’Brien’s introduction to so many previously unknown ancestors and the challenges they met inspires me to be a part of bringing this practice to the future. May this book inspire your practice as well. You can listen to the Q & A the All Beings Zen Sangha had with the author here.
Review by Alveena Bakshi
Crooked Cucumber: The Life and Zen Teaching of Shunryu Suzuki / David Chadwick/Broadway Books 1999
at WorldCat.org
Crooked Cucumber is the biography of Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, and a labor of love by David Chadwick. Capturing Shunryu’s life in the Kanagawa prefecture, rich in detail and intensity, is not an easy feat. The entangled nature of Shunryu’s household and temple life, and the practice of zazen at its center, keeps one feeling part of it all. To me, it also proved to be an education in Japanese people, history and culture.
The reverie is broken halfway through the book by the seeming unraveling of Shunryu’s life with the loss of his wife. The resulting changes to his family dynamic, with two of his children in particular, and another who takes her own life, keep the reader and typical zen student guessing, especially against the backdrop of Shunryu’s desire to travel to America, rearing its head in the book, from time to time.
The second part of the book opens to his American experience. Initially not knowing what to expect from his life in parts, it became clear that although the reference points for Shunryu’s day to day life had changed, and that he drew on a new set of skills for instruction, zazen remained his vehicle of choice for his students’ understanding of self, intertwined with the birth, and growth, of the sangha.
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My own journey had begun when I was nineteen. When I first landed in the Silicon Valley ten years later at the turn of the century, wrapped around the works of John Cage and Gary Snyder, I may not have heard of Tassajara or known San Francisco Zen Center personally, but the voices had been there all along. Before I sat with All Beings Zen Sangha, I had sat with the schools of Daido Roshi and Bernie Glassman.
Towards the end, David’s description of the passing of Shunryu Suzuki Roshi feel like a warm embrace, inspite of the overarching concern Shunryu has for his disciples. I have heard Suzuki Roshi’s disciples say that in his passing they all felt like children who’s father had left too soon. One can see the same love reflected back by Shunryu when he tells his daughter, “The bond between children and parents is never lost”.
Above is a screen shot of a zoom conversation that ABZS had with the author David Chadwick (in the center of the image joining us from his home in Bali, Indonesia) on September 19, 2020. You can learn more about David Chadwick and see his amazing archive of information about Suzuki Roshi by going to this link.
Review by ShōRyū Christopher Leader
Zen Master Raven: The teachings of a Wise Old Bird / Robert Aitken/Published by Boston : Charles E. Tuttle ; Enfield : Airlift, 2002 and by Wisdom Publications, 2017
At WorldCat.org
Robert Aitkin’s collection of modern American kōans, titled Zen Master Raven, is somewhat novel in its presentation. The Tallspruce Community is populated with Aitkin’s students and teachers in the form of animals, from owls and bears to a porcupine and a wise, semi-traveling teacher known as “grandma.” The events of the forest, and the daily lives of these animals, serve as the backdrop for his modern fables, all told over the shoulder of the titular character, resident teacher, and Aitkin’s stand-in, Zen Master Raven.
While many of the kōans stand entirely on their own, Aitkin’s fondness for thematic jaunts is what makes Zen Master Raven truly special. Rather than reading the collection cover-to-cover, students who have some previous experience with kōan study would be better served by viewing the book by its thematic categories. Sometimes only a few kōans long, these themes provide a broad view of Aitkin’s thoughts and teachings on a subject, which can be helpful when you’ve returned to the beginning of the series to contemplate each kōan individually. His series on the Eightfold Path and the Bodhisattva vows may seem a bit on-the-nose to a practiced reader, but read as a series, and then individually, provide a deceptively strong tide for moving to deeper study.
Robert Aitkin’s Zen Master Raven is a valuable collection of teachings from a renowned teacher, presented with a focus on ease of access. While some students may question the value of some parables as kōans, that in itself may be a valuable step for their practice. However, all students are likely to find value in Zen Master Raven as an introduction to Aitkin’s teachings, and to his philosophy on transmitting the Dharma.
* Quotations from Tenzo Kyōkun are drawn from How To Cook Your Life: From the Zen Kitchen to Enlightenment/Eihei Dōgen and Kōshō Uchiyama/Translated by Thomas Wright/Shambhala 2013.