Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Herrigel’s book is part autobiography of his experience learning Japanese archery (kyudo) from the distinguished master archer Kenzo Awa (and through archery, Zen,) and it’s part philosophical treatise on how archery can help one achieve a Zen state of mind.
The book is less than one hundred pages and has a Zen feel itself. Exemplary of this, the book’s divisions aren’t labeled or numbered into chapters—i.e. there’s a general trimming away of the extraneous features of a book. That said, there’s a clear organization to the book, and most of it follows the chronology by which the author (and others) progress in developing deep insight into the mind through the practice of archery.
There are nine sections:
The first section helps the reader understand why one might consider Zen and archery in the same thought–something that will by no means be obvious (even to many Zen Buddhists.)
The second section explains why Herrigel took up Zen and decided to use archery as his vehicle to understand it.
Section three describes the early learning process, and focuses heavily on the importance of breath.
Section four takes place after Herrigel has been practicing about a year, and the theme of purposeless action is at the fore. This idea is one of the recurring central ideas in the book.
Section five is Herrigel’s introduction to withdrawing from attachments, and—in particular—letting go of the ego. It’s not the point at which Herrigel masters this difficult practice, but he’s made aware of it.
The next section is one of the longer chapters and in it Master Awa tries to teach Herrigel the importance of letting “it shoot” rather than making the shot. This is clearly a challenging idea.
In the seventh section, Herrigel has been practicing for five years and Master Awa recommends that he take a test to help him move on to the next stage in his practice.
Section eight is a brief elucidation as to why kyudo is still relevant and how its relevance has long been tied to what it teaches about the mind.
The final section shifts gears into the relation between Zen and swordsmanship. There have been many works written on this subject, and Herrigel’s purpose may have been to convince the reader that kyudo isn’t uniquely a vehicle for Zen. One can engage in many activities (arguably any activity) with the mind of Zen, be it flower arranging, tea ceremony, calligraphy, or spearmanship.
I’d recommend this book for those interested in the mind / body connection. It’s short, readable, filled with food for thought, and is a classic on the subject.
People sometimes ask what my favorite travel locations have been in India. While there remain a great many places that I have yet to see, in the past three years I’ve seen many of India’s iconic (and lesser known) hot-spots. Here’s my top 10 list in ascending order.
10.) Mumbai: I’ll admit to a bias against big cities in my preferences. Indian cities are particularly noisy, smelly, crowded, and frenetic–none of which are characteristics I hold in high regard. However, Bombay has such a unique vibe. From old colonial mansions to shanty-town slums, it’s a city like no other.
9.) Coffee and Tea Plantations: No. 9 may lack specificity, but there’s a common beauty in these verdant, rolling hills–be they in Munnar (Kerala), Madikeri (Karnataka), or the more well-known Darjeeling (West Bengal.) Not only are the plantations scenic, they’re also a peaceful place to recharge.
8.) Khajuraho: This is a quick stop; there’s not a lot to keep one in town once one has seen the amazing set of temples and the art that adorns them. However, Khajuraho makes my list because I favor places that have their own feel, and the open eroticism of Khajuraho certainly stands in contrast to mainstream India.
7.) Agra (the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort): People are often surprised that the Taj Mahal doesn’t come in higher on my list. I’m not saying one shouldn’t see it, but it’s not among the most impressive sights I’ve seen in India. This memorial to love is probably the most well-known tourist site in India, so enough said.
6.) Amritsar: Guidebooks often portray Amritsar as a one-hit wonder, and that one hit is the Golden Temple (i.e. the Harmandir Sahib.) While the Golden Temple is certainly this town’s centerpiece, there’s more to see (not to mention to eat.) While each Indian state has its own cultural flavor, the Sikh character of Punjab makes it particularly true here.
5.) Kerala’s Backwaters: Adrift in the backwaters of Kerala is one of the most simultaneously relaxing and scenic experiences India has to offer.
4.) The Caves of Ajanta and Ellora: This is one of those places that one has to really want to see because it’s not easy to get to. Except for die-hard Buddhists, for whom it is considered an important religious site, relatively few travelers make it to these grand sites. They aren’t just caverns but rather entire temples and monasteries carved into the side of mountains.
3.) Varanasi: Varanasi is both iconic India and–at the same time–a place that has its own unique feel. There are the near-naked holymen, the maze-like back alleys, and the burning ghats where the departed are cremated and have their remains put in the sacred Ganges River.

A Brahmin conducting the Ganga Aarti, a daily Hindu ceremony that takes place at the main ghat along the Ganges
2.) Hampi: Until last summer, Hampi had held my # 1 spot for some time. Yes, there are the Vijayanagara temples and monuments, but– even if there weren’t–the environment in which this ancient city is nestled is otherworldly. Imagine red sandstone boulders precariously (re: impossibly) perched upon each other with cacti communities and a carpet of green in between.
1.) Himalaya: For peacefulness, beauty, and inspiration of awe, it’s hard to compete with the land of snows. Around every corner is some new vista to blow one’s mind. The shear grandiosity of these mountains make them my #1.
Bruce Lee: The Art of Expressing the Human Body by Bruce Lee
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Even by today’s standards in which movie stars have personal trainers and scientifically formulated diets, Bruce Lee’s physique compares favorably to the most buff of leading men. In the 70’s there was no one even close. Consider “Way of the Dragon” in which Lee fights a character played by Chuck Norris. At the time Norris was the World Middleweight Karate Champion, a top-ranked athlete, but he looks comparatively doughy set across from Lee. What makes Little’s book intriguing for those interested in fitness is that it answers the question of how Lee achieved such a physique without the benefit of the last few decades of exercise and nutrition science. Sure, he had favorably genetics, but he also had—by all accounts—a sterling work ethic and a conscientious approach to fitness.
I wouldn’t recommend that one follow the programs described in this book wholesale without careful evaluation of the details. While Lee was impressive, he wasn’t free of athletic injuries. Best practices have shifted here and there with regard to the science of human performance. This isn’t meant to denigrate Lee’s approach. In fact, Lee, himself, followed the science of his time and recommended his students do the same. (For those unfamiliar with Lee’s martial art, Jeet Kune Do, its central tenet is to take what is of value and let go of what is not—i.e. never rigidly hold onto set notions.) It should also be noted that Lee—perhaps because of this philosophy—was often ahead of his time on issues like cross-training. I don’t want to leave the impression that there isn’t a lot that holds up well in this book. I’m saying that this is a book about how one man achieved spectacular results, but shouldn’t necessarily be taken as one’s one-and-only guide to fitness (though it does cover much of the relevant territory.) Intermediate and advanced fitness practitioners should know what to take and what to leave, but beginners should proceed with caution.
The book addresses Lee’s approaches to isometrics, weight training, calisthenics, flexibility, nutrition, cardio, and what would today be called functional training (i.e. fitness activities designed to better one’s performance of movements of the sort that one will use in one’s intended activity—in this case martial arts.) It’s important to note that Lee’s approach was optimized to the martial arts. For martial arts one needs a balanced approach to fitness, and it’s not all about aesthetics like it is for bodybuilders. One must be flexible as well as strong and be mobile more than muscly.
The books 24 chapters and ancillary matter are logically arranged. The chapters at the fore provide general information on weightlifting and related topics, the middle of the book is gets into specialized exercises by body part as well as special topics like stretching and nutrition, and the final few chapters get into sequencing and other information about how Lee arranged his fitness activities. Little draws heavily on Lee’s notes, often using his words verbatim.
The one way in which I think the book could be substantially improved would be more relevant photos and graphics, particularly in the sections that deal with specialized exercises. Don’t get me wrong, there are many photos in the book. However, they are all of Lee, and, of course, he had a great deal more photos taken either in action sequences (e.g. flying kicks, etc.) or in candid moments. There are few photos of Lee engaged in “sausage-making” activities like lifting weights or doing calisthenics. However, the subject in the photo need not be Lee. Photos would also allow the author to make the text in those chapters a little less heavy and more readable, and—therefore—it wouldn’t necessarily add to page count as much as one might think.
I’d recommend this book for fitness enthusiasts and martial artists. From beginner to advanced, there’s something for everyone to take away from this book.
The View from the Cheap Seats: Selected Nonfiction by Neil Gaiman
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Not every writer—not even many literary greats—could pull off a book like this. It’s a collection of random speeches, front matter from books (not his own), liner notes, and the occasional eulogy for individuals living and dead. While the book is organized into sections on topics like other authors, comic books, films, and music, it seems that organization derives organically from the topics on which Neil Gaiman is asked to comment–rather than a desire to tighten the book’s theme.
If you’re a Neil Gaiman fanboy/girl, you’ll need no excuse to read anything that he puts out (even though–if that is the case–you’ll probably have read much of this before in separate outings.) So the question is why the rest of us—who may enjoy Gaiman’s writing tremendously but who don’t qualify as fanboys / fangirls—should read this. The reason that it’s worth reading is that Neil Gaiman is funny, has a way of framing ideas that makes them thought-provoking and interesting, and frequently writes quotable bits of text that are essentially brain candy.
The book’s title comes from an essay on Gaiman’s experience attending the Oscars from the upper balcony. As mentioned, the book is divided into thematic sections–ten of them to be precise. The book starts with “Some Things I Believe,” which presents speeches on the virtue of reading, libraries, books, and bookstores. The next section discusses people he has known and worked with—largely writers and graphic artists. Then Gaiman offers thoughts on the nature of science fiction, again mostly through book forwards on seminal works from the genre. There is a section on films and Gaiman’s experience with them—several of his works have been made into films and many others have been considered. The next part is on comic books and the works and artists that influenced Gaiman. The next section bears the title “Introductions and Contradictions” and it offers introductions for various books (not Gaiman’s but those written for other writers.) There’s a musical section about a few recording artists including They Might be Giants, Lou Reed, and—of course—Gaiman’s wife Amanda Palmer. Next, Gaiman presents some introductions and forwards for works of fantasy. One section includes only a solitary entry–a commencement speech entitled “Make Good Art.” The final section is sort of a catchall of essays that includes the title piece and one on events in Syria.
I’d recommend this book for those who enjoy reading (or writing) in the genres for which Gaiman is known. His comments offer interesting insight, and you may learn about some books and authors that you’d never heard of before.
I’m back from travels in Thailand, Zambia, and the UAE with lots of new photos. This is an African species of Carpenter Bee (Xylocopa caffra) hanging from a flower. Lusaka was in full bloom, despite the fact that it’s [southern hemisphere] winter there and the weather was cool.