The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches

I have read these travel sketches before in connection to a college course about religion in Japanese literature while I exchanged in Japan, and I've been lucky enough to actually visit some of the places referred to in them. I've read it in both Japanese and English, and with a mentor who guided me properly through its language and historical context.

I bought and read this collection again now, approximately one year later, mainly because I cherish some of the passages in “The Narrow Road to the Deep North” and I'm fascinated by its underlying religious/spiritual aspects, as well as some of the artistic ones. To be honest, I am really in awe of Basho for his excellence within his style of poetry and literature, and how perfectly he aligns his art with his religion and way of life. One of the greatest benefits of reading poetry and fiction is being able to emphasize and understand aspects of life in a much more intimate way than non-fiction books could ever hope to do. With Basho, this for me was emphasising and understanding Zen, and concepts like mindfulness, meditation and the beauty of nature more than any self-help book or online article ever have. Japanese (or any culture) culture is also best understood by actually engaging with it rather than simply learning about it.
The way that the concept of impermanence is weaved into the work is also really touching and thought-provoking. I don't subscribe to all these ideas or practice them in my own life, but I do appreciate them mainly thanks to Basho.

However, not necessarily because of inherent faults in his works themselves, but because of personal taste, I found his poetry a bit barren and tame at times, and at his worst, like drawing blood from a stone. It is so understated that it often times comes off as unimpressive, and it is too distanced and tempered for my liking. It is beautiful in the way the moon is beautiful, elegant, but fleeting and unreachable.

SIDE NOTE: Also, modernist poets like Pound, Eliot and especially W.C Williams owe a lot to eastern poets who did what these Americans did centuries before. The mantra of “The beauty and power of the things in themselves” that W.C Williams was preaching is something Basho has mastered. The main difference, in my opinion, is that the westerns poets tend to make their poetry's intentions clear as day, in a way that would seem too bashful for someone like Basho who holds elegance in the highest regard. I do, however, prefer some of these modernist poets over Basho.