where petrofilia crosses over into petromania; readers of this book beware, it may be catching! I once had the opportunity to witness the arrival of a container load of Chinese fantastic boulders ranging in size from half a ton to five tons for the garden of a friend in England who is a dealer in Chinese art. He had long been seduced by the smaller scale “scholar stones” (of the type illustrated in figure 2), but he dreamed of creating a Chinese stone garden for himself. The rocks themselves apparently were not so expensive, but shipping them half-way round the world was, needless to say, a fantastic extravagance. When they arrived in Britain, the credulity of Her Majesty’s Customs’ agents was strained by the bill of lading listing the contents of the container as only “Chinese rock” and ordered a thorough check of the shipment. When it was revealed to be just what it said, my friend was still charged for the inspection on the grounds that he had “caused mischief,” presumably with such a whimsical import. Such are the dangers of petromania.
The appreciation for stone in Japan has a long history too. While it has been influenced deeply by the Chinese tradition, it also, as is pointed out in the introductory chapter, has its own independent root in the native religion of Shinto. Animistic beliefs in Shinto led to the veneration of natural stones in situ as dwelling places of spirits. Perhaps this explains to some degree why the taste in stone in Japan from the beginning has tended to a preference for the restrained and simple, a predilection subsumed under the wabi, sabi, shibui, and yugen aesthetics dealt with in Chapter 2 of this volume. It is certain that immense sums have been expended in Japan for the creation of private gardens, but such creations have not generally achieved legendary status. Even the affection felt for stones has had a more restrained character in Japan. As evident above in the example of Li Deyu, a personification of stones in China has been part of their appreciation. Here is a charming example of that kind of anthropomorphic view from the conclusion of a poem by Bai Juyi (772-846), who is coincidentally the most beloved of all Chinese poets in Japan. In this long poem, Bai Juyi eulogizes a pair of rocks in his garden and ends with the following:
Each man has his own preferences:
All things seek their own companions.
I have come to fear that the world of youth
Has no room for one with long white hair.
I turn my head and ask this pair of stones:
“Can you be companions for an old man?”
Although the stones cannot speak,
They agree that we three shall be friends.3
By contrast, traditional Japanese poetry tends to present rocks and stones simply as part of a natural landscape. Here is one example by Fujiwara no Shunzei (1114-1204),
In one place, frozen,
in another, breaking up,
the mountain river
sobs between boulders,
a voice in dawn’s light.4
There is a slight feeling of personification in the verb “sobs” but the boulders are not depicted as having human attributes. Rather than anthropomorphize the natural elements in this scene, the poet’s mind has merged with the scene. This is also evident in one of the most famous haiku on stone and sound by Basho (1644 to 1694),
Such stillness, sinking into the stones, the cicadas’ cries.5
Perhaps this long tradition in Japan, nurtured by poetry, of cultivating attentiveness to the special qualities in the most ordinary of natural scenes has contributed to a love for stones characterized by a quiet, unexaggerated beauty.
The greater part of this book is reserved for an overview of the Japanese canons of stone appreciation, as well as practical matters related to collecting, altering, and displaying stones. When I was first approached to write a foreword for this book, I was at a loss as to what I might be able to provide, given that I am not an expert in Japanese stone connoisseurship. At first, I felt that I lacked the frame of reference to fully appreciate the classification system. The next morning, however, after reading the book, I wandered out in my garden and suddenly one of the rocks I had casually gathered from the beach took on new and exciting significance. I should explain that I live on one of the Gulf Islands off the Pacific Northwest coast of Canada. The geological foundation for the islands is sandstone and shale, but over the shale beaches are strewn a great variety of stones that have been ground and polished by an ancient glacier before being dropped as the glacier receded. The stone I noticed that morning was smooth, dark gray-green, with three white lines descending its sides in a pleasingly random pattern. It came to me, of course, this is a “Thread-waterfall stone” (Itodaki-ishi) and I rushed inside to fetch the book and look it up on p. 34. There was the description and the illustration, Fig. 41, to confirm it. I derived such pleasure from this recognition, and the stone has become infinitely more precious. This experience made me reflect on the importance of classification systems to help us recognize differences among the myriad phenomena surrounding us. Naming actually enables us to see more clearly. That is what the classification system in this book did for my perception of this one stone. Now, I am contemplating ways to create a suitable display for it, perhaps improvise a driftwood stand to suggest a surrounding ocean, or find a suitable clay pot in which to immerse it in sand. All the aesthetic advice and instructions for display that I would need for such a project are available in this volume. Thus, I can recommend this book highly to anyone with a natural but untutored penchant for collecting stones. You will find your enjoyment of this pastime much enhanced.
In this essay, I have used “stone” and “rock” as though they were interchangeable in usage, but one notes that the title of this book is indeed, “The Japanese Art of Stone Appreciation.” I would like to close with a poem by Naomi Wakan, a Gulf Island poet, that contemplates the distinction between rocks and stones. She, like the authors of this book, comes down resolutely on the side of “stone” when one is dealing with something to be aesthetically appreciated.
Are Rocks Stones?
Stones are quiet things
gathered on beaches
shifted about in pockets.
Stones are tumbled together
until, become gem-like they are viewed with awe.
Rocks are torn from moons
and other exotic places;
shredded in labs for what their innards might reveal.
Rocks are attacked with cleats
and picks and Vikings who seek
to conquer, or, as in the inevitable
cycle of things, themselves
be conquered in turn.
Stones are placed in courtyards
and gazed at patiently for years
until there are signs of growth.6
Sonja Arntzen
Footnote
