I have just re-read Zen and the Art of Archery, by Eugen Herrigel.

I was a philosophy student in my undergraduate days, and my primary focus was on Zen, so I had underestimated that little volume in my youth; it was too short, and too easy to read. And the author didn't make the process sound exotic enough for my arrogant youthful tastes.

But now, Zen and the Art of Archery talks to me through a megaphone. The book recounts the experiences of a German philosophy professor who studied Kyudo (traditional Japanese archery) for several years. He undertook the study to develop his understanding of Zen Buddhism.

As you read the book, you will see that the concepts and practice of traditional Japanese martial arts have leaked into popular U.S. culture. See Karate Kid and Star Wars, for example.

And there's nothing wrong with that.

But when you read this book, you get to see one of the real-world prototypes of Mr. Miyagi and Yoda.

So read it, and thank me later. But don't think you're going to learn to fire arrows. This isn't an instruction manual.

This is the famous little book that Minor White advised his pupils to read. It's an account by German professor Eugen Herrigel of several years of archery lessons with a Japanese archer in the 1950s. My review is written with photography in mind, though the principles discussed in the book can be applied to many arts.

If you have an interest in photography, should you read it?

Here are a few quotes from this little book in which I have taken the liberty of replacing archery lingo with photography lingo:

1. "...fundamentally the [photographer] aims at himself and may even succeed in hitting himself."

2. "Do you know why you cannot wait for the shot and why you get out of breath before it has come? The right shot at the right moment does not come because you do not let go of yourself. You do no wait for fulfilment, but brace yourself for failure."

3. "If [the photographer] is to fit himself self-effacingly into the creative process, the practice of the art must have the way smoothed for it. For if, in his self-immersion, he saw himself faced with a situation into which he could not leap instinctively, he would first have to bring it into consciousness."

If these ideas interest you, then this book is for you. It is a pleasing and thought-provoking little book, written in a conversational manner lacking the overcomplicated lingo and "isms" of most philosophical and spiritual texts.

This is the famous little book that Minor White advised his pupils to read. It's an account by German professor Eugen Herrigel of several years of archery lessons with a Japanese archer in the 1950s. My review is written with photography in mind, though the principles discussed in the book can be applied to many arts.

If you have an interest in photography, should you read it?

Here are a few quotes from this little book in which I have taken the liberty of replacing archery lingo with photography lingo:

1. "...fundamentally the [photographer] aims at himself and may even succeed in hitting himself."

2. "Do you know why you cannot wait for the shot and why you get out of breath before it has come? The right shot at the right moment does not come because you do not let go of yourself. You do no wait for fulfilment, but brace yourself for failure."

3. "If [the photographer] is to fit himself self-effacingly into the creative process, the practice of the art must have the way smoothed for it. For if, in his self-immersion, he saw himself faced with a situation into which he could not leap instinctively, he would first have to bring it into consciousness."

If these ideas interest you, then this book is for you. It is a pleasing and thought-provoking little book, written in a conversational manner lacking the overcomplicated lingo and "isms" of most philosophical and spiritual texts.

This is not a book on kyudo. As Earl Hartman says in another review, Herrigel did have little contact with kyudo in Japan (3-4 years). This book could be about many interesting things (zen, misticism, ...), but I don't know of them. But it's not a book on Kyudo. It seems more a book on Herrigel himself.
I don't says this is the worst book someone can read if is interested on kyudo. Last years saw apearing one or two terrible book's with kyudo in title.
Should be read with precaution and specially doesn't substitute pratice and guidance from a teacher or a master. Many persons come to kyudo allready knowing this book but after a few sessions they give up. and many of them continue to claim that they know about kyudo only by reading this book.

For me this book is first and foremost about Zen. Students of Japanese archery can come to it to take their craft to another level but for me the archery is just a mantle for the teachings to sit on. I've been studying Zen for ten years or so, and have read many great works on the subject. This book was a gentle reminder, ushering me back onto the path. It's wisdom can be applied to almost anything. For a more in depth look at some of the discussions in this book, see Suzuki's Zen and Japanese Culture.

One reviewer, with whom I disagree, says that this book is not a valid source of Zen because the master archer in the book had never "studied" Zen. I think he came in touch with the Zen Mind through his art. The Sixth Patriarch Hui Neng had never "studied" Zen either and came by his enlightenment through living life and carrying fire wood. "Studying" Zen, in terms of following the rituals of an institution, can be formative but is not necessary. Zenmind existed long before the Zen religion.

So whether you're studying Japanese Archery or looking to deepen your awareness of your own art (I study painting, music and Tai Chi), this book can help if you're ready for it.

there's an old adage in the acting world..'don't give a performance, let the performance give you'..so what does that have to do with this book? well, I read this wonderful book a few years back when I was studying acting in NYC and I really worked hard at incorporating some Zen technique into my acting process..it wasn't easy..but I stuck with it and I feel as if I reached a different level consciousness and ability with my craft. This book is a wonderful teacher for the ways of Zen and incorporating those lessons into real life events not just archery.

This book had a real influence on my early spiritual development. I read it when I was a teenager; the impression I was left with was one of discipline, self-mastery, and the difficulty of the art of archery. I loved the author's earnestness and sincerity. For some time, I shot my own bow with what I took to be the spirit of the Zen approach. I wished I could travel to Japan and learn from a master.

From where I sit now, I'd have to acknowledge that this book is more a description or a memoir, rather than an actual guide. That is, for one determined to walk the spiritual path, this book will be more an inspiration than a manual. For some, that may lead to frustration.

A relaxing read, but not always easy to follow. It is very similar to the process of understanding what Zen is.

Although Herrigel's work is not the most brilliant writing his message still stands. This is a very brief work and easy to read. The message is very universal and reflects the committment necessary to fulfill just about anything worth striving for. You will read one man's example of what it took for him to understand Zen. This may help you decide if it is an appropriate journey for yourself or if it compares with the journey you have been on.

Although Herrigel's work is not the most brilliant writing his message still stands. This is a very brief work and easy to read. The message is very universal and reflects the committment necessary to fulfill just about anything worth striving for.

I think that this is one of the seminal Zen texts for Western students. It is very readable, interesting, and has been in continuous print for some 60 years. It was my introduction to Zen, and I would rate it up there with "Siddhartha" as an introduction to life philosophy. Incidentally there is a companion text on flower arranging by Herrigel's wife which my wife enjoyed enormously.

I have been waiting for years to have this superb book to be transferred to CD. There is no difference between this and the cd version they are exact except maybe a better sound quality.

As for the book much has been said about it. I would say if you are interested in student teacher relations, history of budo this is your book. This is NOT or NEVER was intended to be a book about Kyudo but more a book on the authors first hand experience of training in Japan before WWII. One of the best books you can find on the subject.

Ralph Blum is one of the best narrators and makes this even more of a classic by his rich full voice.

This is one man's fascinating and profound journey to master not just
archery but himself. The story is the art of focus and determination, the
art of reaching a high level of accomplishment. Archery is the metaphor.

This is one man's fascinating and profound journey to master not just
archery but himself. The story is the art of focus and determination, the
art of reaching a high level of accomplishment. Archery is the metaphor.

Hard to believe this book is worse than "One Arrow, One Life..."...Kushner actually did a better job at explaining Kyudo & Zen, but fell short in other areas-(see my review of that book if you wish). In "Zen in the Art of Archery" Herrigel is searching to understand Kyudo, he doesn't get it for a very long time. Example, I loved this line from the book..."I pointed out to the Master that I was already in my fourth year and that my stay in Japan was limited". Now that's funny. So he stayed on another 2 years. The "Master" is constantly running circles around him, e.g.,...Herrigel..."And who or what is this "It"?....The Master..." Once you have understood that you will have no further need of me..." This is painful mind drivel to read. Save your money.

As a Zen Buddhist--unlike a few of the reviewers who
are also Zen Buddhists and slam this book--I find
it very refreshing. An excellent book. Similar
to THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA in its brevity, clarity
and depth. The writing is exact, authoritative,
and moving. Herrigel's spiritual journey to and through
Zen Buddhism is eloquently detailed. Well-done. Five Stars.

long life and blue skies,
Mike Tucker
Author: THE LONG PATROL,
HELL IS OVER, & AMONG WARRIORS IN IRAQ

masterpiece. even the way it is written brings the reader on a journey so that he himself can learn and experience what the author intends to convey. not by explicitly writing what he wants the reader to 'learn', but rather by guiding the reader through a path- that is the only way to truly gain.

...and went back to university archery class and immediately shot a perfect round the next day. I then put the bow down, so as not to spoil the moment, and resumed looking at the girls in their summer shorts. By taking the book's advice and not attempting both at the same time, I improved the outcomes for both cases. If you have even the mildest interest in zen, buy this book, or the next arrow may have your name on it. (Linear thinkers should disregard the previous statement.)

Thank you very much for your review Earl Hartman. You are the translator of a better book on Zen and you practice!! Wow. And you still have the EGO to mention your ACCOMPLISHMENTS. So we are to believe Herrigel is the one who didnt get it?? Is it the point to 'get it'? Is there a point? I think we can now disregard anyone who gives this book less than 4 stars.

Herrigel may have 'gotten it,' maybe not. You must experience Zen to know it. And when you know it you know it. HIS conclusions do not make the reader a Zen master.

Whatever. This book is fun. His writing style is fun. His master is fun.

And he is from the West. How could he write in any other way than a Western one? So this book will really speak to Westerners. Brought up with Christianity and dualisms etc etc, this book is written for us. We can relate pretty well to his 'shortcomings' and all his questioning.

Do not follow the supposed experts. Just read.

In the 1930's, Eugen Herrigel moved to Japan to teach philosophy. In an attempt to gain a more profound understanding of Japanese culture, Professor Herrigel and his wife began the study of archery with a Master Zen teacher. After six years of hard work, Herrigal obtained the title of Master.

This book is his attempt to explain to a Western audience his journey from a novice to a Zen Master. Herrigel's writing style is spare and even elegant. He avoided the temptation to frame a a cliche story of German "novice" being initiated into the mysteries of Zen by a wise, Zen Master. (i.e. the karate Kid line of stories)

The only thing disapointing about this book, it underscores the fact that most of us will never have the same type of quality of Zen experience. Afterall, how many readers will be able to spend six years working diligently with a Zen Master. But in the end, it is a nice fantasy and this book gives us an insight into what it would take to have such an experience.

I very much enjoyed reading this book. It is a biographical account of one mans experience as he moves from a position of ignorance towards an understanding of Zen. The bewildering spritual "How to" which seems to have a lot more to do with what you don't do than what you do. The confounding realisation that all effort is false, whereas no effort can lead to superhuman feats of accuracy. It's a magical true story about how a mans confusion and understanding become fused into something of an incomprehensible truth: You don't understand it, but it works.

What I enjoyed most about the text is that it gives insipration to Zen learners, something to aim for, so to speak.

What I didn't like is that it doesn't really offer insight into how one combines an attitude of no presumed effort with the experience of splitting an arrow-shaft lengthwise from the far side of an unlit warehouse. In other words, the book sufficiently illustrates the effects of success with Zen practice but having read the book the cause still remains a mystery: A relaxed attitude alone will do nothing to improve your golfing average, so how does it work?

I read this book many years. It was J.D. Salinger who brought me to it. And the central idea that he taught from it was the art of 'aiming without aiming'. Or rather how wrong and forced effort which is wholly concentrated on ' result' and 'result' alone (i.e. hitting the bullseye) leads to missing the mark.
The great idea of this work is the idea of a kind of practice which leads to effortless effort, to a 'hitting the mark' without aiming , to somehow allowing one's own inner powers to be in harmony with the task one is doing. To let the whole of one's being flow into the activity and with it as one.
With this in mind I years ago wrote a small forgotten work 'Zen and the Art of Swimming' . I also practically ' felt the reality of the main idea ' of this work in surprisingly a ' basketball game ' Here it was not one individual but a whole team of flowing and moving right, only to have this of course be broken by the other- sides time- out.
There is a way of doing a thing in which we are so wholly within it that enjoyment naturally comes to us.
This is the 'Zen ' I understand as central to this book.

The book isn't really about archery but Zen but I think just about everybody knows that by now. As well as being about Zen it is a self help book for if you never read another book about Zen or take up the practice you will benifit from reading this book. In it is the humble opinion of this reviewer if you read only one "self help book" this is the one to read. It is a powerful book that is as much about human psychlogy as it is about anything.
it is a must read and must be experienced to be appreciated but that being said let me elaborate on some of the topics in the book.
The bow is difficult to bend and so one must practce again and again to bend it. That is just one task of archery that is broken down in Zen archery training. Instead of the initiate begining by shooting an arrow at a target, every step of the task is broken down and each practiced until each is perfected.
This I would call the "neurotic" side of Zen. For by one interpretation neurosis that is not unbriddled or pathologic is necessary in the careful preparation for tasks.
Too many (especially of my generation) see Zen as an "anything goes" phiolosophy which is in my mind far from the truth.
So after the repitition of each of the various indivual parts of the process of archery is repeated over and over. The archer is finally ready. A this point (not to sound overly mystical) the archer, the arow and the target become one.
You don't have to be a mystic to get the mesage here.
Part of what the book describes is the psychological process called "chaining" but this book takes that process to a new height.
A book that is much more practical and concise than the 2005 best seller "Blink".
I recommend that everyone read it and an reflect on it.

My martial arts instructor has many books that he allows his students to take out. Some of them he recommends, others he recommends quite strongly. ZEN IN THE ART OF ARCHERY, however, is the only book which he actually handed out to every member of the advanced class. Clearly there is something he wants us to know.

The book revolves around Herrigel's attempt to understand Zen through the practice of kyudo (Japanese archery). Although I am no expert in either Zen or kyudo, I think he does a pretty good job. The concepts that Herrigel communicates to the reader are extremely esoteric and I found them easy to grasp through this slim volume. However, reading the book solely as a story about one person's search for Zen is to read the book far too narrowly.

The concepts that Herrigel addresses are universal concepts. They are not strictly religious (Zen), martial (kyudo) or even Asian (Japanese). Any substantial activity, be it learning kyudo, becoming a chess grandmaster or practicing to become a classical pianist, requires one to reach beyond psychological and internal barriers. This is what should be taken from this book.

During Herrigel's study, he focused not on the target, but on himself as the archer. The struggle was both an internal one, including physical aspects such as breathing properly and relaxing, as well as a refocusing of his mind, such as NOT focusing on the ultimate destination of the arrows he was shooting. The transcendence was within Herrigel himself.

This lesson is applicable to numerous situations across cultures and across activities. ZEN IN THE ART OF ARCHERY provides a good example of this phenomenon but not the only possible example. Read more broadly, this book provides anyone undertaking a long and arduous activity a simple framework for reaching beyond those plateaus that we all frustratingly find ourselves on from time to time. I recommend it on that basis.

I'm shocked at the mean spirited, narrow minded attacks on this book from the few self righteous intellectual bigots who have posted reviews here.
This inspiring account of Eugen Herrigel's encounter with Zen through the art of Zen archery is such a rare example of beauty and wisdom expressed in a truly humble, poetic manner. I've read lots of Zen literature and while there may be some inconsistencies with orthodox views on Zen philosophy and practice, beauty and truth are beauty and truth no matter what package they come wrapped in.
If you insist on only accepting enlightenment when it conforms to your preconceptions or your intellectual prejudices then you've already circumvented the process before it's begun.
The fact that this book has had such an immense impact on so many lives, including my own, for so many years speaks volumes about the profound truths that it encompasses in it's modest dimensions.
Thank you professor Herrigel wherever you are in the ethers for this extraordinary gift.

Eugen Herrigel was not a Zen master- he was a German philosopher who came to Japan seeking spiritual experience through the "mysterious" practices of Zen.

What he finds is suprisingly un-mysterious, simple- and- abundantly practical.

In this little volume, Herrigel talks about how Zen is not solely a contemplative discipline, but the core of a "way of doing"- a way of living in the world, a way of practicing an art (in this case, archery), and an integral way of combining life in the world with spiritual practice. Herrigel, upon arriving in Japan, undertakes the study of Kyudo- Japanese Archery- under a master, who explains to him both the practical and spiritual principles of his archery style. The book takes one through Herrigel's practice, his insights, and finally his tests for mastership.

A good book, if a bit thin (a bit over 100 pages) and Herrigel's romanticism and use of western terms might put off some readers, but overall a quality presentation of one westerner's experience with Kyudo.

I grew up with my father very active in Zen archery, and have been practicing meditation myself for about one year now. (Readers familiar with the Zen arts understand that this is a pitiful drop in the bucket; in his account, Herrigel spends that long learning to hold the bow.) Zen Buddhism is, by definition, a problematic subject to describe in words or in print. Herrigel seemed cognizant of the irreconcilability of the language of philosophy with the reality of Zen, but he did his best nonetheless. It also suffers from its status as one of the first Western works in its field. Some of the language is dated and anachronistic: e.g., "The Great Doctrine". These small criticisms aside, I would overwhelmingly recommend this book anyone with the slightest interest, not only in religion or philosophy, but in athletics or the arts. However, those coming from a background in Western religion or philosophy, no matter how sophisticated, may not know what to do with this book. In fact, such knowledge may impede the reader (p. 48):

"He [Herrigel's sensei]...tried to work through a Japanese introduction to philosophy in order to find out how he could help me from a side I already knew. But in the end he had laid the book down with a cross face, remarking that he could now understand that a person who interested himself in such things would naturally find the art of archery uncommonly difficult to learn."

"Zen and the Art of Archery" is not intended as a comprehensive overview of the Zen tradition. It is probably not the place to start for those that are completely unfamiliar with Zen, kyudo, Buddhism or Japanese culture. (I'm at a loss to recommend any one definitive work, but the works of D.T. Suzuki and Huston Smith come to mind.) What it is, is a fantastically written account of one man's historic experience as one of the first Westerners to study the Japanese art of archery. In proper Zen style, it is succinct; I read it in one hour-long sitting. It is packed with all manner of brilliant insights. My copy is virtually illegible from dog-earing, underlining, and note-taking. If you have some contextual knowledge of the aforementioned subjects, read this book immediately. If you don't, I might suggest that you hold off; it might strike you as so much "mystical mumbo-jumbo", as it did to my father (who subsequently dedicated his book--One Arrow, One Life--to Herrigel).

This is not an "instructional" book on Zen (is there such a thing?), but nevertheless a great, timeless read. As a dabbler in Zen years ago, I re-read the book recently upon taking up archery, and it was just as wonderful as the first time.

I've heard a lot about the book Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel, so I decided it was about time to read it. An interesting look at how a Westerner learned about Zen using the Japanese art of archery.

Herrigel went to Japan in order to teach philosophy, and while there took the opportunity to become immersed in Zen Buddhism. He is able to get a master of archery to teach him after searching for a mechanism to learn Zen principles. As a Westerner, he has a number of problems creating the right mental mindset that would allow him to understand Zen and release himself. But through years of perseverance and continued study, he finally learns the principles and experiences the Zen of becoming one with the bow and target.

It's an interesting look at how Zen principles can be applied to any activity. If you've never been exposed to any Zen philosophy before, you will probably struggle with much of the seemingly nonsensical statements you'll encounter. But if you have a basic understanding going into the book, you should be able to get the value that the author intended.

I have played the piano for thirty-five years and taught it for over twenty. I have written a book on teaching piano that is in the Lincoln Center Library for Performing Arts. The ideas and examples in this book, along with my mentor, helped me achieve breakthroughs in music when many other methods failed. In a way, I owe much of my teaching success to this book.

The book's beauty lies in a westerner's desperate attempts to make logical sense of concepts that are irrational and experiential. For example, the master told the author to let go of the string but also to not let go... Let the spirit "It" pull the string from the hand. Gradually releasing it, the string should leave the hand as though passing through butter.

I can attest to this idea's power. In piano, achieving pleasant tone is a contradictory skill. On the one hand, you have to play with enough force to project tone, on the other hand, you have to attack the key gently to create a rounded sound. The solution I found is called the "controlled drop," where you must let the arm drop but catch it. Like letting go of a bowstring, letting go of my arm to make pleasant sound at the piano is a joint effort between conscious and unconscious will.

Illustrating the sometimes difficult ideas are great anecdotes and quotes in the book. Like when the author challenged the master to shoot blindfolded, thinking it would be a rhetorical request. Instead, the master did just that, hitting the bullseye and splitting the first arrow with a second. And like when the master said, when you make a good shot, do not celebrate, bow and thank the spirit It. You are not responsible.

Perhaps the quotes and stories in this book anger some students of kyudo because they are kind of movie cliches by now, but at the time, it was new. And more important than the sensational stories are the concepts and conundrums present in an entertaining, short memoir.

I have read it many times and will go back again. Perhaps it is not exactly what Zen masters are teaching nowadays, but it has the solid feel of strong, cogent ideas. And the reader works struggles to understand the ideas along with author in what seems like real time.

was that when we use short cuts we cheat our inner development. There is a point in his training when Mr.Herrigel, begins to hit the target. As he does so the Master becomes suspicious and begins to watch his technique.

When the Master discovers that Mr.Herrigel has found a western solution to his learning difficulties, the Zen Master expels him immediately. Explaining to him that what Mr.Herrigel has done was create a hollow illusion of success. True connection with the target first happens in the mind's ey and heart.

Great lesson to be learned for anyone. Loved this book I attempted to use some of the principles to change the way I did archery. I don't think I succeeded with all of the philosophies, but it did change my perspective.

Good luck reading it.

Somebody writes a book making certain claims and assertions about the subject matter. In this case, Zen and Kyudo. Why should this man's opinion be accepted on face value? What are his qualifications to hold a meaningful opinion? Why would you simply accept his claims without investigating to verify or refute them? There is a certain argument for Zen to be made in the art of scepticism. Do you want to believe things that simply are not true? What is an understanding that is based upon falsehoods? Is it misunderstanding? Does misunderstanding deserve a rating of 5 stars? Do falsehoolds make a classic? Do not believe everything you read--unless you want to be a victim all your life. Take charge of your convictions. Be sceptical. Do a little research. Its important.

It is absolutely useless for anyone seeking an understanding of the history and culture of Zen Buddhism. The author went to Japan with an apriori agenda, found an instructor who was not a Zen master, and communicated ineffectively with his instructor. On the basis of these miscommunications, and the authors own agenda, he developed an elaborate and fabulous misinterpretation of everything he was exposed to. Do not waste your time. It only propagates the myth. The truth of this story is out there. Seek and find. After seeing the reactions of some readers who STILL seem unable to ascertain the "truth" of this book, and continue to wander aimlessly in Samsara, here is a link to a Japanese scholar who has written a very good paper on the origins of this misleading work of [...]

Several years ago I read Ray Bradbury's "Zen in the Art of Writing." In it, he said he was inspired by Herrigel's book, and said it was a must-read for writing students. That's what I was, so that's what I did.

Describing the whole Zen approach to, for example, art is something I will leave to the late Prof. Herrigel. My opinion is that this book is one of the three books that made me re-think my approach to writing and a few other of my life's objectives. There are some things which must be studied and analyzed in order to become more proficient/knowledgable (e.g., Scrabble, History, automotive repair, fly fishing), some things which transcend study and analysis and move into creativity and the subconscious (e.g., cooking, salesmanship, customer service), and then things which are about 5% mentally attentive study and 95% "Zen." Such things might be creative writing, dance, archery, target shooting, martial arts, and other fields of study where the practitioner occasionally does something terrific and says "How did I do that?!"

I will not try to sell the reader on the notion that this book will teach how to tap into some inner identity that, when allowed, takes over our conscious selves and brings us to greater performance. I will say, however, that it makes a convincing argument that the typically Western notion of the conscious mind being responsible for our abilities is very flawed. Every practitioner of a martial art will affirm the truism that after diligent study and hard work, your fists and feet will find their targets even before your eyes and your mind see them. Well, coarse as that might seem, that is the heart and soul of Zen. Humans have a strange dual nature; our rational/conscious minds are responsible for so much of our perception of the world, that we tend to overemphasize the value of attentive thought. Easterners have long known that, if you study carefully under a good instructor, some time down the road something takes over and brings you to new levels of proficiency. Easterners call this Zen.

Zen has so many proponents and pundits that I don't wish to insert myself here and presume to the reader that I am among them. I would like to say, however, that if you are interested in getting a well-written, intelligent and thought-provoking book (and a small one at that) which will introduce you to a new way of looking at your objectives and techniques for achieving them, "Zen in the Art of Archery" is a superb selection. It is not some silly, Anthony Robbins-esque promise-filled cookbook of personal growth. It is merely an introduction to a very old way of looking at ourselves and our performance at endeavors which call upon something more than conscious thought.

When you stop to consider the plethora of self-help garbage and personal growth tripe that springs out of Oprah and her idiot guru buddies, gems like this one come as a refreshing reminder that there still are some books worth reading for those of us who are inquisitive enough to pursue them.

This book is a narrative about a Zen experience. It does not delve into philosophical discussions. And that is exactly why it is so deep. No truly Zen master teaches the western way, in classrooms. Instead, it is necessary to have a living experience and "feel" it, since it can't be explained in words. That's what this book is about. A real living experience of the ubiquitous presence of Zen.

To those who already practice Zen Buddhism, this book will seem awkward. To those nonpractitioners who would like to understand how to practice Zen Buddhism, this book will be a delightful enlightenment -- especially valuable to those who live outside of Asia. Eugen Herrigel takes on the almost impossible task of describing in writing something that has to be experienced to be understood, and is remarkably effective.

The author spent six years in Japan just after World War II, and decided that he wanted to understand Zen Buddhism. He was correctly advised that Zen needed to be experienced as the path to achieving that understanding. Several possible areas were suggested, from sword fighting to flower arrangement to archery. Because he had experience with rifle target shooting, the author chose archery. He was fortunate to be taken on by a Zen master who normally refused to teach Westerners, because they are so difficult to teach.

As a typical high-achieving Westerner, Mr. Herrigel wanted to make rapid progress and to achieve conscious competence in archery. His instructor wanted him to achieve unconscious competence based on experience and build from there into spiritual awareness. This conflict in perceptions created quite a tension for both of them. This tension was ironic, because the purpose of Zen practice is to achieve the ability to be strong like the flexible water. Tension is the enemy of that state of being.

Mr. Herrigel also learned from attending flower arranging classes from his wife, who was studying Zen in this way. He also benefited from finding some wonderful commentaries on sword fighting as a path to Zen that are included in this book. These are more eloquent than Mr. Herrigel, and he chose wisely in saving them for the end.

I suspect that this wonderful book will mean the most to people who have regularly practiced either meditation or Eastern-style breathing. Having followed both kinds of practices for the past six years, I found it was easier to relate to the Zen concepts in that way than through trying to imagine myself performing the archery described here.

By the way, this archery is not at all like what you did in camp as a youngster. It is both much more stylized and difficult. Think of it as being more like a Japanese tea ceremony than like Western-style archery.

You will love the many descriptions of how Zen masters helped their students learn through experience rather than lecturing or demonstrating to them endlessly. Mr. Herrigel makes a good point concerning how Japanese teaching in these ancient arts has remained the same, while newer subjects are taught much differently.

Some of the most beautiful parts of the book are the explanations that employ natural metaphors. The concept of the Samurai is explained through the fragile cherry blossom, for example, in a way you will not soon forget. The metaphors used in the archery are also very compelling and vivid. They spoke very eloquently to me, especially about how the shot is "released."

I got a lot personally from this book in reconsidering how I could and should step back more often to "go with the flow" of the moment rather than trying to orchestrate everything very rationally. The book made me much more aware that I operate in both styles, probably too often in the totally preplanned rational one.

I am also reminded of books about golf that I have read that cite similar principles for becoming more competent. I also remembered how all of my best golf shots have come when I was totally egoless. That lesson was very profound for me. I wonder what will happen in other areas if I follow that lesson, as well.

If you have never tried meditation, I encourage you to experience this if you find this book interesting. That will probably be your best way to begin to explore what is described here. Naturally, if you can find someone to teach you one of the Japanese arts, that will further expand your soul.

A good Western-style book to help you rethink your approach to life that parallels this one in many ways is The Art of Imperfection. The title is a misnomer. What we often think of as perfection is really the height of imperfection, as the author discovered when he began substituting his own methods for those of his Zen master.

Aim straight for yourself!

This slender book tells the story of Herrigel's efforts to learn about Zen, through the practice of archery, when he lived in Japan. In essence, he learns that he must clear his mind of all external clutter until all that exists is the bow, the arrow and the target. But the process of learning this seemingly simple lesson is continually stymied by his stubborn adherence to Western ideas.

This is a pleasant enough little book, but one problem with this and with the exaltation of Zen in general is that Westerners routinely do exactly what practitioners of Zen do, without making such an elaborate production out of it. There is a great scene in John McPhee's A Sense of Where You Are : A Profile of William Warren Bradley, when Bradley is just lighting it up in the NCAA tournament and he feels like he's hogging the ball, but he's so hot that his teammates just keep giving him the ball. He keeps making shots and they won't take any until he misses, so he starts taking increasingly ridiculous shots and they keep going in. In the cliche of the moment, he has found the Zone.

Anyone who has ever flashbowled, knows the sensation that occurs when you become one with the lights and start throwing 800's, and, hell, that's typically after 15 beers and you don't see me writing Zen in the Art of Flashbowling..

hmmmmmm?

GRADE: C+

A good explanation of Zen, about letting the unconscious mind override the conscious mind. I sympathize with the author complaining to the teacher, "But it's taking so long!" It took years for him to become a Zen master in archery. I think a good, if oblique, companion piece to this book is THE USER ILLUSION, that explains how the mind works in a conciousness-vs.-unconsciousness way. We have tens of thousand of bytes of information entering our brains every second, but our consciousness only registers up to only 30 bytes! That's a lot of information being absorbed by our subconscious! What the Zen discipline does is try to open up the mind to working with all those subconscious bytes. The week I write this (Aug. 23, 2000) the "New Yorker" has a good article by Malcolm Gladwell about when pro athletes choke. Basically their conscious minds take over too much. I'd read that article, too. Anyway, this book is very readable, very accessible, and makes me feel like a spiritual wienie since I'm so far beneath such mastery of my own mind!

The task Professor Herrigel set himself was to experience true Zen, he did this without realising that abandonment of self was a primary objective. In other words the pratice or the decision to undertake anything very much is a step into the unknown even when the person involved never considers the possibility of his very self undergoing radical change, somehow one believes "I" will always remain afterwards. Little by little Herrigel underwent powerful changes in his Zen experience which literally must be undertaken in an authentic way ie by the sort of practice having no limits or bounds, a wholehearted approach somewhat alien to most westerners. The book is an honest and clear account of his experience in japan and is somehwat akin to that of Jan Whilhelm van de Wetering in "The Empty Mirror", humourous experiences such as when the master wishes to find out more about what he does and in this way try to understand why the practice of archery is so difficult for him : exclaiming after he reads a philosophy book that "no wonder you have so much difficulty", adds to the humanity of the story. Although a small book it is rich in personal experience and a treasure of a book which can be read again and again to revitalise one's own practice. It is also far more readable than his other books which are full of difficult philosophical concepts and lack the depth of humanity shown in this one. The book stresses what must be said again and again, Zen is about doing rather than knowing (in the conventional sense) and Herrigel realises that only in the practice of Zen rather than just reading about it can it be truly "known". He also demonstrates the great challenges to be faced in this practice especially as regards the conflicts which arise between the "artless art", Zen, which is free of thought and that of his profession which is never free of the constricting domain of thought. A superb book which never fails to inspire.

Immensely popular and with a cult like following, this work is worthwhile if read with a grain of salt [sic?: rice]. Frequently assigned reading to students of the arts (pick one); I disagree with most of it.

With Zen in the Art of Archery Eugen Herrigel has secured his place among the great allegorical philosopher/comedians. Chevy Chase is in good company. Artists, as much as art, must be understood in perspective. Unlike Eugen Herrigel, Chevy Chase and his genre did not spend most of their adult life teaching philosophy in Tokyo between the wars. Professor Herrigel (or "Master" Herrigel as I am sure he would prefer) was German, and it is through a mid-nineteenth-century western perspective that he attempts to open our minds to a greater understanding of Zen Buddhism. Like other allegorical philosopher/comedians he has chosen sport as a metaphor to hasten our understanding. Two generations later Chevy Chase would do the same with golf. Golf was not popular in Japan between the wars so Professor Herrigel was faced with the limited choices of floral arrangement or archery as his allegorical theme. As the title to the book suggests: he chose archery. (His wife chose floral arrangement, but gender distinctions were more predictable between the wars.)

Archery has been around for at least 15,000 years. Mankind utilized it to hunt and fish with and to also kill other human beings with in the practice of that most exalted art form: warfare. But archery it is and Professor Herrigel utilizes the synthesis of archer-bow-arrow-target as an effective literary device by which to explain essential principles of Zen Buddhism and how one can, by seemingly indirect paths, come to be one with the universe. Zen in the Art of Archery was published in 1953 and unfortunately Professor Herrigel reached the highest state of consciousness conventionally accepted in western society in 1955 when he died at the age of 71. His death so soon after the publication of this work probably denied us its logical sequel based upon his experiences during the war years following his return to Germany after years abroad in Japan. It might have been called Zen in the Art of Rocketry. ("As the ascending V-2 rocket approaches the zenith of its arching ballistic course over the gently lapping waves of the English Channel, the minds of the rocket scientists, warhead manufacturers and children at play in Coventry at once become one and the rocket is thus involuntarily compelled to its target as if a greater force were at play.")

The author "for the sake of comparison," concludes the book by "cast[ing] a glance at another of these arts, whose martial significance even under present conditions cannot be denied: the art of swordsmanship." [p. 68] Cannot be denied? Tell every child who has seen Star Wars that it really is true that the way to total consciousness is to engage in mortal combat and simply "let The Force be with you."

My quarrel with Professor Herrigel is obviously with his choice of metaphor and not his message. To paraphrase one World War II fighter pilot, the medium could have been "kinder and gentler." Such was the comparative message I took from the movie Caddie Shack. Was not Ty Webb's (Chevy Chase) masterful instruction to the young caddie precisely what Professor Herrigel teaches us: "Be the ball."

The Zen Master teaches us, or so we are informed, that before we even pick up a bow (and by extension this is equally true of a club, bat, pen, brush or clump of clay), we must learn to breath properly. Now this is interesting. Breath control is critical to many undertakings: all sports, both the act of procreation and childbirth itself, oration and song, meditative thought and scuba diving -- just to name a few. Breathing, if the brain is functioning properly, is an involuntary act. Breathing occurs in both the conscious and unconscious state. Stresses in the higher brain functions will almost always cause disturbances in breathing patterns. (Anxiety, fear, or worry for instance will cause suppression of normal breathing, changing its patterns and manifesting itself in the form of frequent sighs or hypertension.) Stresses in the lower brain functions will cause similar disturbances, often with more serious consequences. (Blunt trauma, toxic drugs and organic brain disease will often repress breathing altogether.) So breathing is important and it is important that before the painter paints, the writer writes, the foul shooter shoots, or the pilot lands, it is best to stop banging one's head against the wall, breath naturally (really naturally), and try to "unabsorb" oneself from everything except the task at hand. (Mastering breath control was invaluable to the Kamikaze pilots -- an outgrowth of the ancient Samurai -- of World War II. If the pilots became gripped with fear, they would often hyperventilate and either overshoot their target or crash into the sea before their predestined evaporation into their holy part of the "Great Doctrine.")

The Zen Master teaches us that we are surprised by the strength of the grip of the infant to whom we offer our extended finger (this is undoubtedly true in not only eastern culture and western culture but all cultures in between, beneath and above), and we are struck by the inexplicable effortless of the baby's release, which is only possible because the baby does not think, it simply does. So it is with many athletic endeavors and we are taught thusly: relax your grip and let the club, bat, racket or what-have-you, do the work. But this grip thing attaches too much importance in the archer-bow-arrow-target synthesis to the bow and arrow components. It is sort of hyperbolic buck passing to the instruments themselves. (Have you ever seen a frustrated tennis player throw a racket to the ground as if it was the rackets fault?) This "be the ball" stuff cannot be understood in serial parts; the whole literally is greater than the sum of the parts.

If one desires to pursue the path of enlightenment under Zen, one must select as a vehicle one of the Zen arts - archery, swordsmanship, brush-and-ink, the tea ceremony or flower arranging. Eugen (pronounced OI-gen) chronicles his struggle to overcome his "much too willful will" and master the bow. This interesting story is very moving, educational and inspiring, while never becoming heavy as it easily could have under less skillful authorship.

The ultimate challenge Eugen faces ends up being the smooth release of the bowstring and arrow without conscious intent, "like the ripe fruit falls from the tree", "like a baby's hand releases one object to grasp another", "like the bamboo leaf slowly bends under the weight of the snow, then releases the clump of snow without thought". Eugen, during a summer sabbatical, develops a "technique" that he believes will solve this problem and nearly gets himself thrown out of the program for "offending the Spirit of Zen". There is also an interesting account of an after-hours meeting where his teacher gives an amazing demonstration of quiet mastery in order to raise Eugen's morale and level of understanding.

There is much that this little book has to offer and its message will live in your heart for a long time.

If one desires to pursue the path of enlightenment under Zen, one must select as a vehicle one of the Zen arts - archery, swordsmanship, brush-and-ink, the tea ceremony or flower arranging. Eugen (pronounced OI-gen) chronicles his struggle to overcome his "much too willful will" and master the bow. This interesting story is very moving, educational and inspiring, while never becoming heavy as it easily could have under less skillful authorship.

The ultimate challenge Eugen faces ends up being the smooth release of the bowstring and arrow without conscious intent, "like the ripe fruit falls from the tree", "like a baby's hand releases one object to grasp another", "like the bamboo leaf slowly bends under the weight of the snow, then releases the clump of snow without thought". Eugen, during a summer sabbatical, develops a "technique" that he believes will solve this problem and nearly gets himself thrown out of the program for "offending the Spirit of Zen". There is also an interesting account of an after-hours meeting where his teacher gives an amazing demonstration of quiet mastery in order to raise Eugen's morale and level of understanding.

I had read the book several times and decided to get the tape to listen to while driving. Ralph Blum's sonorous voice is perfect for the reading and I enjoyed listening to the book as much or more than reading it. There is much that this presentation has to offer and its message will live in your heart for a long time.

The author set out to "master Zen", and ended up simply mastering himself. This book has become famous all over, not simply as a "tale to enlightenment", but as a narrative of a man looking to conquor the "mysterious East" and find himself only faced with... himself.

This is a wonderful book for those interested in understanding Zen or Japanese archery, but is equally readable as a record of personal discovery (although for those unfamiliar with Zen philosophy what is "personal" and what is not may be difficult to detect).

This is an unpretentious,no-nonsense narrative about the author's initiation into the art of archery and, ultimately, into the concept of Zen Buddhism. It speaks in plain language and tries to avoid mystical jargon. Ironically, it is also a story of self-perfection - ironically because Zen Buddhism teaches the abandonment of the idea of a "self".

There are many ways one may go from this book: One of the main themes of Zen in the Art of Archery is "art becoming artless", which is also at the core of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's bestselling study of creativity in "Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience".

Someone who is interested in the spiritual qualities that (sometimes) come with the practice of martial arts might like to read "Iron and Silk" by Mark Salzman - don't expect anything holy or warrior-like, though.

Zen-Buddhism is covered in countless books. One of my favorites is Alan Watts's "The Spirit of Zen". A rather unorthodox, funny, skeptic and disrespectful look at Zen Buddhism can be gained from Janwillem van de Wetering's trilogy "The Empty Mirror" (my favorite of the three), "A Glimpse of Nothingness", and "Afterzen".

The most prolific book one could read to illume the mysticism of zen. The author clearly explains from a western perspective. This allows the reader to clearly understand what mystics have been trying to explain for centuries. Read the book and then listen to it on Tape as Ralph Blum is outstanding in reading the book for audio renniesance. My only complaint is that it is abridged but not by much...

Unlike many other books, this one is truly great. Not that I know anything about archery. The concepts are greatly expressed and the narrative is good.

My ballet teacher made me read this book to improve my dancing. It was an incredible help! I recommend it to anyone in dance or athletics.

Read this book in a quiet room, keep a pad and pencil handy. You're mining for jewels with a teaspoon, sift thru everything carefully.

It was really goo

For my money, this short classic is the best explanation to the western reader of what Zen is about. Herrigel, a German, and his wife lived in Japan for five years and learned Zen through the practices of Archery and Flower Arranging, respectively. This fascinating account of Zen teaching at work (with a difficult learner) illumines the depths of the matter as well as any printed words can; plus, it's an entertaining true story. I especially like the part where the Master determines to try to see the westerner's point of view in order to help his pupil learn, so he gets a book of German philosophers, but gives up in disgust, noting that it's no wonder the man who concerns himself with such things can't shoot an arrow straight!