“What Japan was she owed to the samurai. They were not only the flower of the nation,
but its root as well.”
This is one of those books I am sure I would have never read if it had not been for Dungeons and Dragons. Last year I had an idea for a character to play in our current campaign, but I wanted to create something around her that felt old, that held a deep meaning within its imaginary culture in the world we are currently playing in.
So I did what I usually do when I am looking for inspiration, I check out my favourite composers of soundtracks that I love, I go back to history - to see if there is something there that might inspire me. Which all led me to this little book.
How random it is that other hobbies connects you to literature that is probably something you would not have picked up on your own?
Japan has always had a place in my life, mainly through one of my hobbies writing. I am such a nerd when it comes to what kind of paper I want to write on, the feel of it, the smell and even just how it sounds. A notebook, is not just a notebook. There so much else to it. To the kind of paper I want for certain pens and what ink I would like in my fountain pens.
I could go on and on about this, but I digress. Picking up Bushido: The Soul of Japan was one of slow reads that I just needed time to digest. It is such small book, only a hundred pages long - and yet, I spent a long time reading it.
The Way of the Sword
'What Japan was she owed to the samurai. They were not only the flower of the nation,
but its root as well.'
First published in 1899, this little book feels very much like a time capsule. Reading it is very much like stepping back in time, not only to understand the very soul of this fascinating country, but also understand the time that it was published.
According to Nitobe, the philosophy of Bushido is the true key to understand the soul of Japan. After finishing it, I have to admit, I do have an entirely new perspective on how tradition has been passed down over generations - and how it has become the very soul of its people. At one point I found myself wondering about my own traditions from my roots, and noticing the similarities we share with other South American countries - there are somethings that are just the soul of who we are.
The Soul of Japan is an enjoyable and enlightening read and I found myself particularly enjoying its prose. I have a thing for 1800s way of writing I guess. The deep dive into the samurai and a culture, that I truthfully only have seen through western eyes - with a few exceptions was truly fascinating.
One of the clever things Nitobe does is setting up parallells between the East and the West, in the ways they moved, spoke, behaved. I enjoyed how he clearly knew both cultures so well that he was able to draw those lines, for those who might not have seen them, in a gentle way. It was more of a “we are not so different you and I” vibe - if you catch my meaning. Which is often something we forget, we might live on the other side of the world, but in the end - we are not so different at all.
The way he describes the importance of the tea ceremony:
Much less do I consider elaborate ceremony as altogether trivial; for it denotes the result of long observation as to the most appropriate method of achieving a certain result. If there is anything to do, there is certainly a best way to do it, and the best way is both the most economical and the most graceful.
If there is anything to do, there is certainly the best way to do it. Now, my younger self hated that phrase when it came from my mother (usually complaining about my cleaning), but now as an adult, I have an entirely different appreciation for it - and to my teen version of myself horror: I even agree.
Cha-uo-yu is more than a ceremony - it is fine art; it is poetry, with articulate gestures for rhythm: it is a modus operandi of soul discipline. Its great value lies in this last phase. Not infrequently the other phases preponderated in the mind of its votaries, but that does not prove that its essence was not of a spiritual nature.
This wonderful chapter and paragraph suddenly threw me back to my own memories of tea. Tea is a big thing in Chile as well and I have grown up with a family that loves tea, there is always a kind to help you solve whatever issues you might be experiencing.
My grandmother lived in Chile her whole life, and we only saw her a couple of times growing up - so not many times, but enough to give me some unforgettable memories. One of those are how she would pour tea for me, she would move so slowly, boiling the water on the gas stove, pulling out the special cups for afternoon tea, removing the dust from my special tea cup, and give me just a little extra sugar to put into it. I have not thought of her or that memory for years. But it became so alive to me again while reading this book.
I do think I might have romanticised the book a little but I truly did enjoy Nitobe’s way with words a lot. It had me flowing through the chapters and I did find myself contemplating on its themes quite a lot. A hundred pages long and I spent months on this book!
It was almost sad when it was over. I say almost, because even the ending left me in this happy place of contemplating on what I had just read. Such a small book and yet it gave me such joy - and a book I would highly recommend to anyone who is just a bit curious. Would love to discuss it with you and find out how it holds up today - is it a book that is a good representation of Japan? Or is it a more romantic edition of it?
Until next time,
happy reading! ✨