In Praise of Shadows. An 80-page essay by Tanizaki of Japan. Written in 1933.

A Review

This book is an exploration of light and shadows. I remember when Gwanwyn and I, along with year-old Nshorna, engaged in a search for our home in 1982 in Totnes, Devon, UK. Dharma friends gave me the dana (donations) to put down the deposit of £5000 for the £24,000 house. I remember an immediate instinctive response of aesthetic appreciation when we found this terraced house.

Small rooms (suitable for an ex-monk), a fireplace, a small back and front garden, a gate at the foot of the garden with a pathway to a public track, used centuries ago by lepers, slowly walking or wheeled in barrows, to go to church in the changing climate of all four seasons. My walk through the fields (now replaced with homes and a road) takes me up to the high street in Totnes. I follow the same route as the lepers for a coffee opposite the church. We follow our ancestors who were once residents of Totnes.

The intensity of the bright lights of Tokyo at night reaches far into the above.

My upstairs window has lovely views with the opportunity to see the light of sunrise at the top of the hill facing home. I share the same appreciation of shadows and natural light as Tanizaki. I hope readers do too whether you live in the city or countryside.

This beautiful 80-page essay provides insightful reflections on the importance of our awareness/mindfulness of the daily changes in light and shadows around the clock, especially at home.

In the early pages of the essay, Tanizaki evokes a love and appreciation of the toilet seeing it as a shrine, a piece of art from the Ming dynasty. He writes of the toilet as a place of meditation. His words reminded me of Perfect Days, a beautiful 2022 film (movie) on the life of a mindful Tokyo toilet cleaner. Perhaps In Praise of Shadows acted as an inspiration for the film.

On the pleasures of going to the toilet in his home in the Japanese countryside, Tanizaki writes: Here are certain prerequisites, a degree of dimness, absolute cleanliness and quiet so complete one can hear the hum of a mosquito. I love to listen from such a toilet to the sound of softly falling rain… I suspect the toilet is where haiku poets over the ages have come by a great many of their ideas.

Of all the elements of Japanese architecture, the toilet is the most ascetic…Our forbearers making poetry of everything in their lives, transform, what by right should be the most unsanitary room in the house into a place of unsurpassed elegance.

The author turns his attention to the kitchen and the importance of shaded colours with deep tones. He encourages a mindful contact with the hands to experience the sensations with the cutlery. He advocates a culture at home of harmony and beauty found through aesthetic appreciation.

Tanizaki reveals his strong preference for lacquerware cutlery rather than white porcelain

A darkness is an indispensable element of the beauty of lacquerware. The lacquerware (dictionary: made by coating the surface of a material with the sap of the Japanese lacquer tree) of the past was finished in black, brown or red colours.

Whenever I sit with a bowl of soup before me, I'm lost in contemplation of the flavours to come, as if I was being drawn into a trance. The experience must be something like for the tea-master, who at the sound of the kettle, is taken from himself, as if upon the sigh of the wind.

The light from the garden seeps in but dimly through paper panelled doors, and it is precisely this indirect light that makes for us the charm of a room.

The Tranquility of Space

For Tanizaki, the material objects require a tranquil space around the objects to reveal the natural composure of the items. The relationship of space to form, space to things, matters far more than the object itself.

Homes need to abide free from clutter, with wisely placed necessities, as well as artwork, to reach a quietly meditative place within ourselves. In the diminishing of unnecessary accumulations, a peaceful mind reveals itself without the stress of thinking about the tidying up and housework needed.

The quiet observer notices the walls and windows reflect the light and shadows coming from outside, regardless of the time of day. This immutable tranquillity contributes to the welfare of our whole being, a sublime sense of things long before electricity and bright lights filled our homes. We experience this shared stillness and silences in the quiet of the light.

Such light and shadows express respect for our ancestors, where in the recollection of the way of life of the past, specifically pre-industrial communities, we have a sense of the tranquillity that once filled the home in soft candlelight, an open fire and use of wicker lamps. The sense of mystery doesn't come through the intensity of bright lights, but through the fusion of light and dark.

These reflections of the author serve as a precious reminder to us of the natural beauty of the movement of light/dark, day by day, in our home and elsewhere.

During my years as a Buddhist monk, I often witnessed in temples small, square gold coloured sticky labels placed on Buddha images. Stuck randomly on the images, these stickers, the size of a postage stamp, offered a symbol of appreciation for the benefits of making merit and gratitude for the actions of others. Buddhists know gold acts as a symbol of purity, of deep values. These gold stickers also reflect light from candles and other forms of non-intense light.

Tanizaki also invites readers to reflect on Japanese theatre where the actors might act bathed in semi-darkness with white faces and dark clothes. Women and men onstage give inspiration through the boldness and subtlety of movement, revealing grace and arousing sensual curiosity in the audience.

What the fading of light reveals

Novels of the author write about the interpersonal sensuality between people. In his book in praise of shadows, he refers to the beauty of the woman bathed in shadows of light and dark to reveal her exquisite beauty. The pale colours accentuate her sensual presence. Her beauty reveals itself via her environment.

Every room in the home can evoke a meditative mood regardless of the time of day. Such receptivity gives support to a further sense of calm and integration. Our whole being relaxes through the exposure of this fusion. We love to sit quietly in front of an open fire, for example, take a long bath or sleep in an uncluttered bedroom.

We live in a world where one in five people living in the cities face every day intense light on streets through the power of electricity. Living amidst all this intensity of brightness, we lose intimacy with the natural world. Children living under the brightness of streetlights, lights indoors and office lights, never have the opportunity to see the stars.

Adults, too, may rarely see stars, the wonder of the milky way and the expanse of the cosmos. Such spiritual alienation would shock our ancestors. Is it any wonder that lots of city people go camping to experience minimal living conditions and the desire to feel close to the earth, space and sky? Tanzaki reminds we can find the same at home.

If we overlook the sensitivities of the natural world, indoors and outdoors, we miss the subtle diversity of changes, of movements in the 24-hour cycle. The changes in the presentations of the sun and moon shape our days and nights, influencing every corner of the Earth, including ourselves.

A murky light whether in a stone or an artifact, bespeaks a sheen of antiquity.

Let us not interrupt beauty

Let us not miss out on the cycles and their diversity rather than constantly interrupting beauty through switching on the lights. Seeing changes in the immediate environment can deepen our feeling tones.

Unfortunately, due to the influence of psychology, we often regard shadows as something negative, such as referring to shadows having a negative influence on our state of mind or another. The language of dark shadows becomes problematic when used as such as a metaphor.

Materialism, too, often has the craving for the new, bright, shiny, glittery items. Our homes become full of stuff. This is consumerism blinding us to beauty in the natural, spacious world.

Those of us who remember well the 1950s and 1960s can recall the sparsity of items at home. I remember our living room with a couple of armchairs, a sofa, 12-inch television, a chest of drawers, a dining room table and four chairs. Nothing else. We kept little in the chest of drawers. Were we less happy because we had less? Or did our modest lifestyle contribute to our happiness and well being?

1956, Living room. Aged 12. With my sister, Judy, aged 7. Minimal furniture. Minimal needs.

The book serves as a reminder of the preciousness of the subtleties of the aesthetics of form/items and space. This relationship of the perceiver to the perceived matters more than we realise. A single painting or photocopy of the painting on a wall can reveal much to appreciate in its nuances according to our disposition at time. Candlelight has the same power. Love of nuances conveys the calm of being and nourishes as well..

We do not need to be in transition to more acquisition but in transition to less acquisition, to know a sublime sense of completion of the home. Rather than look elsewhere for a bigger property, let find space in our current home rather then moving to fill up the increase of space with life alienating stuff.

In the absence of the superfluous, we feel joy. We experience this joy when we have a spring clean. We might rent a skip to get rid of the non-recyclable or you take stuff to the charity shops. Afterward, we love the sense of space in our home and within ourselves. In Praise of Shadows reminds us of seeing a refinement to our home. This perception refines the perceiver of what abides around us.

The Beaty of Inconvenience

Tanizaki reminds us of the beauty of inconvenience, such as the rain, wind, temperature, light, shadows and darkness. This inconvenience can reveal much in the way of humility, insights and deep connection. How mindful we are when faced with the dark or semi-dark and inclement weather.

Buddhist tradition in Japan inspires the author. The tradition emphasises intimacy with the nature, a reductionist view of reality, utterly different from scientific reductionism, a branch of materialism. The Buddhist reduction viewpoint reveals a spiritual aesthetic, harmony with the bareness in the material world. The tradition sees the arts, not as a commodity for sale to the highest bidder, but a means to expose appreciative joy in our focus on subtle presentations.

If light is scarce, and light is scarce, we will immerse ourselves in the darkness and may discover its own particular beauty. But the progressive Westerner is determined always to better his lot, from candle to oil lamp, oil lamp to gas light, gas light to electric light. His quest for brightness never ceases. He spares no pains to eradicate even the minute shadow.

I have always thought that hospitals need not be so sparkling white, and the equipment too might be better in softer, more muted colours.

We experience the imposition of bright lights and fluorescent lights in the gym, hospital, commercial office schools, shops, warehouses and more. Tall offices in the cities fill with light, around the clock, from top to ground floor. This is a waste of energy and a failure to abide in praise of shadows. Neon signs of advertisements impact on our eyes to encourage slavery to goods.

Tanizaki clearly does not approve of the Western obsession with bright lights and obsessive acquisition of goods. He writes:

In the darkness, immutable tranquillity holds sway. The ‘mysterious Orient’ of which Westerners speak probably refers to the uncanny silent of these dark places. Where lies the secret to this mystery? Ultimately, it is the magic of shadows.

Nothing quite so becomes a Japanese skin as the costumes (richly woven of gold and silver) of the Noh Theatre. There is the beauty of the Japanese complexion set off to such advantage. Were the Noh Theatre lit up by modern flood lamp, this sense of beauty would vanish under the harsh glare.

The Science of Aesthetics

He makes the point of how different it would be if Japanese culture and aesthetics were applied to scientific discoveries and Japan’s traditional non-materialist culture. The Japanese would experience a way of life not related to consumerism.

Cynics might think the essay calls on us to go back to the cave or the preindustrual era. Such views miss the core points of knowing a deeper relationship with what is in front of our eyes every day of the week throughout our life.

We have all had the experience on a visit to one of the great (Buddhist) temples of Kyoto or Nara, of being shown a scroll of one of the temples treasures hanging in a large, deeply recessed alcove. The combination of the blurred old painting and the dark alcove is one of absolute harmony.

The thought arose in my mind, What would Tanizaki have thought if he looked at the world as it is now? Japan and countless other countries, Buddhist and otherwise, have let their consciousness become dominated by materialism.

Perhaps Japan, like other countries, lost its self-worth due to the bombing and destruction of cities and habitats. In 1946, US Airforce dropped atomic bombs on two Japanese cities to negate an entire population, their culture and history. Did Japan lose a sense of self-worth, triggering a desire to be more American in terms of consumerism to regain their self-worth?

We have gone in a direction that fails to suit us. The widespread epidemic of mental health problems, countless physical health problems, riddled with fears and never feeling good enough, makes hell for people of all ages.

This reveals a spiritual crisis. Is more and more medication the solution or a temporary avoidance of reality? We need to shed the light of awareness on our vulnerable species instead of magnetic pulls to the bright lights of a self-indulgent city – like moths to a flame.

A Fresh Way to Perceiving Home

In Praise of Shadows points to fresh ways of looking at our relationships to our home, institutions and the natural world. Let us give ourselves permision to experience times of stillness, silence and absorption into the wonder of light/shadows. This quality of attention acts as a resource for getting us back on track.

Tanizaki writes I wonder if my readers know the colour of that darkness seen by candlelight. It was different in quality from darkness on the road at night.

Thank you for reading.

Back to my Miso soup here at home in Totnes.

IN PRAISE OF SHADOWS

Junichiro Tanizaki (1886-1965)

Translated from the Japanese by

Thomas J. Harper, Senior Lecturer

in Japanese Literature at Australian National University.

Edward G. Seidensticker, Professor of Japanese

Literature at Columbia University.

Translated 1977

ISBN 9780099283577

£7.99.