Book Review - Zen in the Art of Archery
Author: Eugen Herrigel
Category: Zen, Philosophy, Archery
Quiver Score: 4/5
Zen in the Art of Archery is described by John Stevens in his book Zen Bow, Zen Arrow as likely being the most popular book about Japanese culture and martial arts ever. This is a bold statement I cannot contest, having read only three other books about zen: the aforementioned Zen Bow, Zen Arrow; Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance – a timeless classic that I read too long ago to remember; and Zen Shorts – a children’s book about a zen-ful panda.
As a student of archery, two Japanese martial arts, and what I call ‘stillness’, I was drawn to Zen in the Art of Archery for obvious reasons. Not long ago I was called to archery through my mindful practice of Qi Gong, an ancient Chinese martial art that is useful in calming the mind and moving qi. While consciously moving through various archer-influenced stances, I felt deep connection and strength. Once I found the yew bows and teachings of bowyer Jamie MacDonald, I was hooked on this ancient practice for its ability to engage the archer in both physical exercise and in mindfulness. In the book’s preface, D. T. Suzuki says that the practice of archery is “not intended for utilitarian purposes only or for purely aesthetic enjoyments, but…to train the mind.” When I am doing archery, I am just doing archery.
I began devouring this short book with a highlighter at ready, first marking the bits of wisdom in the preface, and then in the book proper. Written by Eugen Herrigel seventy years ago, Zen in the Art of Archery is replete with pearls of wisdom on the Zen tradition and the venerable and ancient art of Japanese archery, an ‘artless art’. “The ‘Great Doctrine’ of archery,” he writes, “tells us…archery is still a matter of life and death to the extent that it is a contest of the archer with himself.” Additionally, the aim of archery “consists in hitting a spiritual goal, so that fundamentally the marksman aims at hitting himself and may even succeed in hitting himself.”
I found the account of the Japanese tradition of archery to be fascinating, as well as the ongoing struggles of the author over more than half a decade to become an archery master. His teacher, the celebrated Master Kenzo Awa, taught him possibly more than he was anticipating, not about archery, but instead about effortless being, breathing, spirit, and ultimately life. When the author once remarked of his effort to keep relaxed, his Master told him, “That’s just the trouble, you make an effort to think about it. Concentrate entirely on your breathing, as if you had nothing else to do!”
As the author painstakingly advanced through various stages of archery, he met many new challenges, not the least of which was effortlessly loosing (firing) the arrow at the height of the draw. “The right shot at the right moment does not come,” said the Master, “because you do not let go of yourself. You do not wait for fulfillment but brace yourself for failure.” Additionally he pronounces, “The right art is purposeless, aimless!”
Perhaps because I read this short book not with steady attention but instead in short bursts, I found myself ironically losing focus during the more esoteric discussions of Zen in the middle of the book. My mind frequently wandered, and only when I came back to review the book for this article, did I find that the midsection was equally as rich in wisdom as the author’s more personal accounts of his archery journey in the beginning and end. What the Master told to his pupil applies here to me: “Now at last, the bowstring has cut right through you.”
Whether you have interests in Zen or archery or simply ‘being’, I recommend this treatise. In only eighty-one pages, the German-born author taps acutely into the soul of a deeply spiritual Japanese culture and loosens a great deal of traditional wisdom. A study into Zen (or any spiritual practice) and archery can lead to lifelong beneficial shifts. “I must only warn you of one thing,” says the Master of his pupil’s studies. “You have become a different person…For this is what the art of archery means: a profound and far-reaching contest of the archer with himself…It has happened to me too, and it happens to all who are touched by the spirit of this art.”
