My love for the samurai
If I had absurd amounts of money, probably one of the first completely unnecessary purchases I would make would be a set of authentic samurai armor dating as far back as possible and with the most ornate detail. I’d want it all. The chestplate, the facemask, the headdress, the gauntlets, the sword and spears and flags. All of it.
Around my sophomore year in college I went through a “samurai” phase where I rented nearly every Akira Kurosawa samurai movie at the local video store and bought a few others. I’ve seen two versions of the 47 ronin story. I actually read up on Macbeth and King Lear to understand Kurosawa’s “Throne of Blood” and “Ran” better. I grin when people talk about how great Westerns were, when Kurosawa’s “Yojimbo” influenced Sergio Leone’s “A Fistful of Dollars” and his “Seven Samurai” influenced John Ford’s “Magnificent Seven.” And watching George Lucas’ roots for “Star Wars” from “The Hidden Fortress” is a complete joy that makes you appreciate the science-fiction story at a new level.
It’s fair to say I have a romantic view of the samurai tradition, heavily influenced by Kurosawa’s films. While lots of people like ninjas for their Hollywood kitsch value, I think there’s something to be admired about the nobility and prestige of the samurai class.
While traditionally viewed as a warrior class, the samurai also embraced the arts. Many were painters, writers, poets and philosophers. There’s a sense of intellectualism in the samurais alongside a steadfast loyalty that went to death.
Perhaps my favorite samurai that I can name is Miyamoto Musashi. Besides being a complete badass when it came to duels, the guy wrote a book and did some phenomenally beautiful sumi-e ink paintings.
Perhaps Musashi’s best-known work is “Koboku meikakuzu” or “Kingfisher Perched on a Withered Branch” that features a bird waiting patiently balanced on a small branch, above a body of water among the shoreline of reeds. At first glance, it appears to be merely a bird on a stick, but closer observation shows you why the bird has landed there. In fact, the bird’s been there quite a long time. It’s been there, waiting, as a small caterpillar crawls up the branch where the kingfisher waits for an easy meal.
The point of the painting, I believe, is to show resourcefulness. While the bird could easily fly off the branch and go for the kill, it chooses to let the meal come to him. The bird is confident in its position of power and knowledge of the fate to come. It feels no sense to rush and has a sense of serene patience as it glances to take in the surroundings. The painting has a sense of peace, but really is a precursor to violence in nature.
Musashi’s “Book of Five Rings” or “Go Rin No Sho” identifies the ideas that I believe he portrays in this painting. While I think the “Water Book” emphasizes a lot of elements of the kingfisher and the samurai way, Musashi mentions this earlier in the book:
There is timing in everything. Timing in strategy cannot be mastered without a great deal of practice.
Indeed, the kingfisher is a master of timing and knows enough to wait. Knowing this, we can see this is an older bird, one that’s wise enough to have the experience of how to best catch his prey, no matter how small.
One other element to look at in the painting is the distinct shape of the branch. It appears to be done in one stroke, or made to look like the shape of a samurai’s sword. Both creatures here are along the edge of the branch, meaning they are along the edge of the weapon. While the caterpillar crawls along the edge, obviously closer to death, the kingfisher also sits on the blade. Why does the bird also find itself on the edge of death?
I believe it sits there because its own life depends on the death of the caterpillar and it killing its prey. If it doesn’t succeed, then it could die also. In a way, this shows the reality of combat. Even if one is in a position of power, he holds the possibility of death in his own hands despite all the advantages. A worthwhile lesson.
Musashi’s tale would end up as a trilogy of films, starring legendary actor Toshiro Mifune as the samurai, the first of which won an Academy Award. I’d obviously recommend viewing them if you have a chance, as they’re often called the “Gone of the Wind” of Japanese cinema.
So, yes, my obsession of the samurai does run rather deep. I admire this particular part of my culture greatly, despite not being well-educated on the rich history of it. Still, a part of me holds an extreme reverence toward this part of my ancestry and influences me to a degree.