by Robert Wolfe
Introduction
The following article has a very long history. It was
originally written in 1977 as a paper for a college
course examining Japan from the perspective of cultural
anthropology. In 1981, it was accepted for publication
in The Bujin, and it became my first writing
credit. A reworked version later appeared in the second
issue of the Journal of Asian Martial Arts, in
1992. I continue to receive requests for the article,
and since I’ve promised a number of people I would
oblige them at some point, I offer it again here.
A glance at the rack of new
bestsellers in any book store will reveal a rash of
“self help” books, all of which profess to offer the
reader a practical guide to everyday life. These books
advocate every conceivable behavioral pattern, but they
share the common factor of having been written, for the
most part, by persons who have no more than an academic
claim to any special way of life. In contrast, consider
the following: almost four hundred years ago, a guide to
kenjutsu, strategy, and life was written by an old
hermit who lived his last years in a cave. He based his
observations on experiences gained over a lifetime spent
surviving one of the most violent eras of human history,
the years leading to the establishment of the Tokugawa
Shôgunate in Japan. Musashi’s Gorin-no-Sho is
unique, in that it treats fighting, strategy, and life
as one, condensing the underlying principles that are
common to each.
Although most
modern editions of the Gorin-no-Sho contain a
cover blurb alluding to “The Real Art of Japanese
Management” or something of the kind, implying the book
is essential to understanding Japanese business, in
reality, Japanese executives rely on Musashi about as
often as western businessmen refer to Machiavelli. The
typical Japanese gained his “knowledge” of Musashi from
the popular (and highly embellished) novel by Yoshikawa;
few ever read the Gorin-no-Sho.
Still, the Gorin-no-Sho is of great interest to
the student of traditional martial arts. In our modern
age of “been there/done that” hype, Musashi stands as a
clear example of a man who repeatedly placed himself in
harm’s way for the sake of his art. The historical
record of Musashi’s life is complete enough for us to
examine Musashi’s writings in the context of his actions
and the impressions — in some cases incisions — he made
on others. While we may judge him unkempt, savage, and
seemingly devoid of compassion, we are also forced to
recognize his accomplishments as a poet, artist, and
apparently invincible swordsman. Gorin-no-Sho is
the product of an exceptional life.
Shinmen Musashi-no-kami Fujiwara Genshin, known as
Miyamoto Musashi, was born in 1584 and fought his first
duel at the age of thirteen, killing an experienced and
mature swordsman. From that point until he was 61,
Musashi won another 59 duels and participated in five
major battles. Although certain legends hold that he
occasionally spared an opponent, documented accounts
report Musashi’s foes in formal duels were ushered on to
the “Great Void.”
Musashi’s
radical and seemingly unbeatable kenjutsu was based on
training in the simultaneous use of both the long
(katana) and companion (wakizashi) swords. The style was
eventually formalized as the Niten Ichi-ryû (Two Heavens
School). Many fictional works depict Musashi fighting
his duels with two swords, but I’m not aware of any
record of this actually happening. The reports we have
indicate Musashi fought with a single katana or bokken —
the primary intent of his training methods was the
development of a swordsman who could wield a sword with
equal effectiveness in either hand.
An unusually skillful swordsman of Musashi’s time, after
having developed his own style and proven it in personal
combat, often opened his own dôjô for the instruction of
wealthy lords and their sons. Musashi, on the other
hand, dedicated himself entirely to training and a
“warrior’s pilgrimage.” Most of his duels took place
during this period of wandering and introspection.
Musashi semi-retired from dueling at the age of 30 and
spent the remainder of his life instructing, meditating,
painting, and considering the Way of strategy. Total
understanding, according to Musashi, came at the age of
51.
The final two years of his
life were passed in meditation at the Reigendo cave in
the mountains of Kyushu. Several weeks before his death
in 1645, Musashi composed the Gorin-no-Sho and
presented it in a letter to his student, Nobuyuki Teruo.
Musashi believed that strategy was not an entity unto
itself. If a person could master strategy in one area of
endeavor he could, by the perception he had gained,
understand the strategy applicable to any aspect of
life. The Gorin-no-Sho addresses kenjutsu, but
the lessons contained in the book can be related to
almost any undertaking. According to Musashi, practice
with swords leads initially to mastery of the self and,
later, to mastery of interactions with others.
To learn how to win with
the long sword in strategy, first learn the five
approaches and the five attitudes, and absorb the way of
the long sword naturally into your body. You must
understand spirit and timing, handle the long sword
naturally, and move your body and legs in harmony with
your spirit. Whether beating one man or two, you will
then know values in strategy.
Study the contents of this book, taking one item at a
time, and through fighting with enemies you will
gradually come to know the principle of the Way.
Step by step walk the thousand mile road.
Study strategy over the years and achieve the spirit of
the warrior. Today is victory over yourself of
yesterday; tomorrow is your victory over lesser men. 1
The “spirit of the warrior” is one of the foundations upon which rest Musashi’s theories of fighting. It is also the basis of a spiritual bearing that will aid the individual in any situation.
In strategy your spiritual bearing must not be any different from normal. Both in fighting and in everyday life you should be determined though calm. Meet the situation without tenseness yet not recklessly, your spirit settled yet unbiased. Even when your spirit is calm do not let your body relax, and when your body is relaxed do not let your spirit slacken. Do not let your spirit be influenced by your body, or let your body be influenced by your spirit. Be neither insufficiently or over spirited. An elevated spirit is weak and a low spirit is weak. Do not let the enemy see your spirit. 2
Zen Buddhist influences are
apparent in Musashi’s references to spirit. What he
desires is a state of mind that is as neutral as
possible. The most frequently given example is that of a
mind like water. Water always seeks balance while
shaping itself to any container it enters. Musashi
directs the student to develop a spirit that will
maintain itself in equilibrium, a spirit that by virtue
of its unbiased nature will enable the warrior to react
in any manner that circumstances may require.
It could be said that the development of correct spirit
is intertwined with all other aspects of the Gorin-no-Sho.
For example, kenjutsu practice will help build
“warrior’s spirit” while the discipline of spirit will
complete a circle by enhancing one’s swordsmanship. A
similar relationship exists between spirit and the nine
rules of personal behavior outline by Musashi:
1. Do not think
dishonestly.
2. The Way is in
training.
3. Become acquainted
with every art.
4. Know the Ways
of all professions.
5. Distinguish
between gain and loss in worldly matters.
6. Develop intuitive judgment and understanding for
everything.
7. Perceive those
things which cannot be seen.
8.
Pay attention even to trifles.
9.
Do nothing which is of no use. 3
These rules are one of the most
significant sections of the Gorin-no-Sho — they bridged
the gap between kenjutsu and everyday life for the
Japanese warrior of the 1600’s and continue to be valid
to this day. The common sense nature of Musashi’s
precepts are perhaps the best support for his belief
that fighting, strategy, and life are all related, and
that the principles of one are necessarily the
principles of the others. When the student of budô
understands these underlying principles, he will be able
to act with confidence and skill in any area of life.
Conducting oneself with assurance can be augmented by
taking full advantage of one’s strengths. Water never
goes over anything it can go around, and yet, few things
can stop it. In like fashion, the warrior must learn to
recognize the most advantageous path before him. Musashi
terms this strategy “crossing at a ford.”
“Crossing at a ford”
means, for example, crossing the sea at a strait, or
crossing over a hundred miles of broad sea at a crossing
place. I believe this "crossing at a ford" occurs often
in a man’s lifetime. It means setting sail even though
your friends stay in harbor, knowing the soundness of
your ship and the favor of the day. When all conditions
are met and there is a favorable wind, or a tail wind,
then set sail. If the wind changes within a few miles of
your destination, you must row across the remaining
distance without sail.
If you
attain this spirit it applies to everyday life. You must
always think of crossing at a ford. 4
It is important to note that while
Musashi advocates taking advantage of one’s strengths,
it is not the same thing as “taking the easy way out.”
When the best path is identified, one must dedicate
oneself to it. Musashi directs the student of budô to
take advantage of what he can, but to remain always
prepared to do the real work himself. In the example
given by Musashi, a shift in the wind does not cause the
warrior to turn back his boat. Rather, the warrior hauls
out his oars and sets his back to the task.
Pursuing vigorously whatever decision has been made is a
theme Musashi returns to time and again. In the “Water
Book” of the Gorin-no-Sho, the section that
describes specific kenjutsu techniques, Musashi explains
the importance of directing a settled spirit to decisive
action.
To cut and slash are two different things. Cutting, whatever form of cutting it is, is decisive, with a resolute spirit. Slashing is no more than touching the enemy. Even if you slash strongly, and even if the enemy dies instantly, it is still slashing. When you cut, your spirit is resolved. You must appreciate this. 5
In the passage above, Musashi
addresses several layers of meaning simultaneously,
tying kenjutsu, strategy, and life into one bundle.
The five sections of the Gorin-no-Sho are woven
together by means of one, common consideration: timing.
When all other elements of strategy are removed, timing
is what remains. It is the factor that blends spirit,
ability, and resolve to produce invincibility.
There is timing in
everything. Timing in strategy cannot be mastered
without a great deal of patience.
There is timing in the whole life of the warrior, in his
thriving and declining, in his harmony and discord. All
things entail rising and falling timing. You must be
able to discern this. In strategy there are various
timing considerations. From the onset you must know the
applicable and inapplicable timing, and from among the
large and small things and fast and slow timings find
the relevant timing, first seeing the distance timing
and the background timing, otherwise your strategy will
become uncertain. 6
Musashi’s references to “rising”
and “falling” timing would seem to indicate a Taoist
influence. He speaks of the timing of the Void in
various sections of the book, and his allusions to this
timing being a “non-timing” that is parent to
spontaneous action are similar to passages found in the
writings of Lao-tzu. As in all other lessons, Musashi
indicates to the student that what must first be
consciously practiced will eventually become automatic.
In Musashi’s world of 1645, as in our modern world, men
and women who demonstrate ability to manage themselves
are often put in charge of managing others. Maintaining
the spirit of universal application found in other
sections of the Gorin-no-Sho, Musashi asserts that the
rules for handling others are the same as those
principles discovered in personal practice. With such
knowledge comes the ability to take command skillfully.
The foreman carpenter
allots his men according to their ability. Floor layers,
makers of sliding doors, thresholds and lintels,
ceilings and so on. Those of poor ability lay the floor
joists, and those of lesser ability carve wedges and do
such miscellaneous work. If the foreman knows and
deploys his men well, the finished work will be good.
The foreman should take into account the abilities and
limitations of his men, circulating among them and
asking nothing unreasonable. He should know their morale
and spirit, and encourage them when necessary. This is
the same as the principle of strategy. 7
When the student of budô masters himself and thereby gains mastery of interactions with others, he reaches the pinnacle of training and ability. Musashi posits that success in any area of endeavor is dependent only on practice and knowledge of the Way.
To master the virtue of the long sword is to govern the world and oneself, thus the long sword is the basis of strategy. The principle is “strategy by means of the long sword.” If he attains the virtue of the long sword, one man can beat ten, so can a hundred men beat a thousand. In my strategy, one man is the same as ten thousand, so this strategy is the complete warrior’s craft. 8
Although Musashi’s examples and
teachings utilize the long sword, he makes it clear that
practice and diligent investigation of any martial Way
will yield equivalent results.
The
Japanese seem to have always been better at perceiving
and appreciating Ways than westerners. In Japan, martial
ways have from the earliest days been viewed as vehicles
for introspection, self discipline, and the enhancement
of health, rather than simply as means for winning
fights. European fencing schools contemporary to Musashi
taught swordsmanship almost exclusively for practical
combat. In the four old, European manuals I have had a
limited chance to study, I have been surprised both by
obvious analogs to Japanese strategy and tactics and by
the relative absence of spiritual implications in the
statements of the fencing masters. (It’s also
interesting to note that not a single Western school of
swordsmanship has been preserved — all present-day
schools teaching fencing as a European martial art are
presenting arts that have been reconstructed from the
old manuals and an incredible amount of contact
sparring.)
Musashi and other
Japanese swordsmen whose manuals are preserved tend in
their writings to imply a totality of existence, and the
theory that exploration of a part can lead to mastery of
the whole.
Musashi was not concerned with describing
the world — he was interested in passing on his method
for dealing with it. Although the Gorin-no-Sho is,
on the surface, a kenjutsu manual, it can be viewed as
much more. The content of Musashi’s work, the underlying
principles he illuminates, can be regarded as more
significant than the kenjutsu techniques he overtly
addresses. As a work that goes beyond itself to speak to
martial artists of all times and Ways, Musashi’s Gorin-no-Sho is
unsurpassed.
Postscript
Any
student of martial arts trying to draw strategic or
technical insights from translated sources operates
under a considerable disadvantage. The Harris
translation of the Gorin-no-Sho is most often
cited as a reference in research utilizing secondary
sources, since it was the first version of Musashi’s
work widely distributed in English, but that doesn’t
necessarily mean it’s the most reliable or accurate
version available. While the author’s biographical notes
on the dust jacket report that Harris practiced modern
kendô both in England and for three years while teaching
mechanical engineering at a university in Japan, there
is no indication of the depth of his training, or any
reference to direct experience with kenjutsu.
Recent postings to an iaidô mail list on the Internet —
in particular one by Karl Friday of the Department of
History at the University of Georgia — point to glaring
inaccuracies in the historical introduction of the
Harris book which compromise one’s confidence in the
fidelity of the translation.
A
somewhat more freshly translated edition of the Gorin-no-Sho was
published in 1982 by Bantam Books. In this case, the
translation was performed by a team of two Japanese and
two Americans, at least one of whom can claim formal
training in Zen Buddhism and Shorinji Kempo. The
disparity in translator perspectives in these two
versions of the Gorin-no-Sho is readily
apparent, and can be illustrated by comparing the
following to the “Crossing at a ford” section of the
Harris translation quoted in my paper:
When one speaks of
“crossing the expanse” it can be in the context of
crossing a sea or crossing a channel. It can be a short
distance or a long distance. In the course of a lifetime
there are usually a number of difficult situations which
could be likened to crossing an expanse. The “expanse”
is crossed by piloting the boat, by researching the
location of the “expanse” if it is located on a sea
route, by knowing the performance capabilities of the
boat, by knowing well the favorable and the unfavorable
points regarding the weather conditions, by making the
necessary adjustments according to the conditions,
regardless of whether another boat or boats will be
accompanying your boat, by relying on a crosswind or by
being pushed by a tail wind, and if the wind direction
changes, by rowing for three or five miles, all with the
intention of reaching the port.
In
order to pass through life, there is the need to have a
spirit, to be decisive about exerting all of one’s
energies to overcome difficulties. 9
Rather than presenting a case for
taking advantage of whatever opportunities are afforded
by a particular situation, as in the Harris version, the
Bantam Books edition describes overcoming difficulties
through careful preparations and unshakable
determination to achieve the objective. That’s more than
just a minor variation in flavor — it’s a completely
different message.
Just as
interesting is a comparison of the sections addressing
what Harris describes as “To cut and slash are two
different things.” The Bantam Books version contains a
typographical error in the third sentence that seriously
confuses the meaning of the paragraph:
To utsu and to ataru are separate. To utsu is “to consciously deal a blow, regardless of the way in which it is dealt.” To ataru has the meaning of “to come by” regardless of how strongly one does this so that it is to *utsu* even if it be strong enough so as to instantaneously kill the opponent. To utsu is to do so consciously. This should be researched. 10
Replace utsu with ataru (as is shown in a Japanese language version of the Gorin-no-Sho I have), and the third sentence is more similar to the Harris version. Even so, the Bantam Books version includes a more complete presentation of what Musashi apparently wrote in that section:
To ataru against the hands or the legs of an opponent is first of all to ataru and this is done so as to be able to utsu afterward. To ataru means to come into contact with one’s opponent. Practice in order to be able to differentiate between these two. One should learn to improvise. 11
While the Harris version implies “cutting” is clearly
superior to “slashing,” the Bantam Books team conveys
the two concepts as independent strategies, each of
which has its uses. Once again, a critical difference in
meaning.
One solution to this
problem is to attempt your own translation. As I
mentioned, Japanese language versions of the Gorin-no-Sho are
available, although I don’t know of any domestic
sources. The senior student in our kenjutsukai, Randy
Manning, picked up my copy for me during a business trip
to Tôkyô. While this Japanese edition is a help in
checking English translations, the fact it is itself a
"modern translation" of Musashi lessens its utility. Mr.
Rod Uhler of the Daitô-ryû Hakuhô Kai in Ôsaka, knowing
of my desire to find as "original" a reference as
possible, presented me with a copy of the Gorin-no-Sho in
the language of Musashi’s time, but it’s ’way beyond
me...
Definitely avoid compounding
the confusion by depending on an additional layer of
mere opinion, as is the case with The Martial
Artist’s Book of Five Rings, by “Hanshi” Steve
Kaufman (you’re getting the picture already, aren’t
you?). Kaufman took an English translation of the Gorin-no-Sho —
I think the Harris version, but it’s been awhile since I
(very briefly) looked at this title in a book store —
and “interpreted” the work for students of sport karate.
It’s a real stretch, by just about any measure.
Of the different English versions of the Gorin-no-Sho I
have seen to date, including the translation by Thomas
Cleary, the Bantam Books edition has proven to be the
most useful to me.
Notes
1 Miyamoto
Musashi, trans. by Victor Harris, A Book of Five
Rings (New York: The Overlook Press, 1974), p.66.
2
Ibid., p. 53.
3
Ibid., p. 49
4
Ibid., p. 73.
5
Ibid., p. 61.
6
Ibid., p. 48.
7
Ibid., p. 42.
8
Ibid., p. 46.
9 Miyamoto
Musashi, trans. by Nihon Services Corporation, The Book
of Five Rings (New York: Bantam Books, 1982), p. 64.
10
Ibid., p. 45
11
Ibid.
