Finding the Heart Sutra: Guided by a Magician, an Art Collector and Buddhist Sages from Tibet to Japan
Published by Allen Lane, and imprint of Penguin U.K. (Nov. 26, 2020)
Review by Amy Chavez
Alex Kerr’s story of the Heart Sutra unfolds metaphorically like the pocket accordion prayer book of the Heart Sutra itself. Between the two cover flaps we stretch from a brief introduction to Buddhism in the sixth century to the mystical chant at the end. The author remembers his first encounter with the sutra (as I suspect most Westerners do). For Kerr it took place in a hotel room in Kyoto, at a gathering of friends to mourn the fall of a grand house. Suddenly, a Buddhist priest springs out of his chair laughing, dancing and reciting the sutra with hilarity, much to the consternation of the young impressionable author looking on. Only much later did he understand the complete appropriateness of the priest’s gesture.
Kerr’s second encounter with the Heart Sutra was in the kabuki theater, when performer Tamasaburo gains entrance into a forbidden temple precinct by using the sutra’s most famous lines to crush the guards in a Buddhist debate:
The material world does not differ from emptiness.
Emptiness does not differ from the material world.
The material world is itself emptiness.
Emptiness is itself the material world.
In this way Kerr introduces us to the people in his life who have played mentor-roles in this panoramic unfolding of his own coming-of-age experience with the Heart Sutra. We too begin to learn from his experiences.
The sacred text is presented in the book phrase by phrase in both Japanese and English and then expanded upon through commentary and Kerr’s own experiences with the sutra. Those who have helped personify these phrases for the author are the mentors mentioned in the subtitle of the book: a magician (William Gilkey), an art collector (David Kidd), and sages (poets and writers from Zen Master Yakuin to French writer Marguerite Yourcenar).
The author notes that most of people turn to the Heart Sutra because “We just need something small, a useful idea or two to help us in our daily lives. The Heart Sutra is so short you can recite the whole thing in about a minute. It’s a haiku of wisdom, wisdom you can carry in your back pocket.” It’s brevity, he notes, “is just the right length for fans and neckties.” Indeed, many a souvenir emblazoned with this essence of Buddhist wisdom can be found in shops and temples all around Japan.
What Kerr does so well as a writer is delve into the smaller details that other scribes overlook. In trademark Kerr fashion, for example, we are informed that “After attaining enlightenment, the Buddha meditated in a cave, and the light from his body illuminated the darkness. This radiance explains why Buddhist statues are gold and sit in niches (representing the cave), and why their heads and bodies are framed with halos and swirling flames.” Most authors would have stopped after the first sentence. But Kerr, with a concern for the basics, wants to make sure we as readers get that. He taps into our basic observations—that Buddhist statues are painted gold—and wants us to know why they are that color and no other. The best books are about the reader, mindful of their wants and needs, while the author remains in the background where he or she can more effectively transmit the story and its meaning. Kerr excels at this, even while telling what is a highly personal story.
The author is the first to admit, and accept, the duality of the sutra: the aim of perfection in an imperfect world. But through practice and self-improvement, we are shown that we are all able to make our own small achievements toward the goal. One concept of Buddhism is that everyone possesses a “Buddha nature,” that we are all lotus flowers waiting to bloom, our path to enlightenment mirrored petal by petal as the lotus opens to full blossom. Kerr reminds us that we are not judged by how far we attain this perfection, just that we act upon it, each to the degree he or she is able to. While the author wonders whether perfection can ever really be achieved, he understands the effort to do so is also key to getting by in our every day lives.
While Kerr successfully places the people and events in his life into compact samplings of wisdom that have been passed down to him through the decades, there is an underlying message that we all learn from others, whether they be mentors, elders, parents, friends, writers, poets or even acquaintances. It is more a question of whether we make use of those sages and their teachings, and consciously allow them to guide us.
Sariputra, disciple of the Buddha and the listener of the Heart Sutra, asks the Buddha questions about life and our existence. Buddha, deep in meditation, requests Bodhisattva Kannon to reply in his place, and Kannon’s answers form the foundation of the Heart Sutra text. Sariputra then transmits these words (via the sutra) to the people. Kerr has proven an excellent student of friendship and fellowship and has himself become a vessel of wisdom which he now passes on to us readers. When we’re finished reading Finding the Heart Sutra, we find ourselves at the end flap of that metaphoric accordion book. We can keep Finding the Heart Sutra in a safe place, along with our other sacred treasures, so that it is ready to be taken out and read again.
Listen to the Books on Asia Podcast with Alex Kerr.