Kōan study has been an important part of zen practice for well over a thousand years, with portions of what may be the most famous record, the Blue Cliff Record, dating back to the ninth century. However, many modern Sōtō students have had only limited exposure to them in their formal practice setting, as, in the 1700s, the Sōtō school sought to distinguish itself from the Rinzai school by primarily focusing on shikantaza meditation, rather than kōan meditation.
Because of this, it may surprise some American Sōtō students to learn that there is not only a growing movement toward the study of kōans, but also a number of collections of modern American kōans. These modern American kōans have a distinct flavor and a unique presentation.
Robert Aitkin’s collection of modern American kōans, titled Zen Master Raven, is somewhat novel in its presentation. The Tallspruce Community is populated with Aitkin’s students and teachers in the form of animals, from owls and bears to a porcupine and a wise, semi-traveling teacher known as “grandma.” The events of the forest, and the daily lives of these animals, serve as the backdrop for Aitken’s modern fables. The fables are told in the voice of the titular character and resident teacher, and Aitkin’s stand-in, Zen Master Raven.
The work is a wide-ranging one, and many of the stories rely on the mechanisms of the forest in order to add context. In reading it, I often found myself wondering how much of the context was necessary to the teaching, and how much was affectation to the form. I don’t know that I would have questioned such “story-telling” aspects had they not been titled as kōans, intended to be contemplated in whole and by part, open for consideration until the truth reveals itself, but in this case the additional language added heft that doesn’t appear to have always been necessary.
However, an undeniable benefit of the style is the ease of reading these fables. Zen Master Raven can easily be read from cover to cover thanks to the vibrant setting and the reoccurring characters whose personalities and progressing studies provide a permanent-feeling framework on which the stories are hung. This continuity instills a desire to see his animals pursue their question and development, and newcomers to kōan study will find this valuable as reading the collection from start to finish provides exposure to a broad number of topics in a conversational teaching style.
While many of the kōans stand entirely on their own, Aitkin’s fondness for thematic jaunts is what makes Zen Master Raven truly special in my mind. Rather than reading the collection cover-to-cover, students who have some previous experience with kōan study would be better served by viewing the book by its thematic categories. Sometimes only a few kōans long, these themes provide a broad view of Aitkin’s thoughts and teachings on a subject, which can be helpful when you’ve returned to the beginning of the series to contemplate each kōan individually. His series on the Eightfold Path and the Bodhisattva vows may seem a bit on-the-nose to a practiced reader, but read as a series, and then individually, provide a deceptively strong tide for moving to deeper study.
In the end, Zen Master Raven is itself a story, following both the interactions of Aitkin with his fellow practitioners and the lives and deaths of the creatures that he has brought forth for our education. There are numerous kōans covering death and grieving — for yourself and for others — which are spread throughout the book, placed where they best fit among the larger stories being told.
It is hard to comment on this collection of kōans with too much certainty, as they are intended to be contemplated over time and interpreted within the context of your practice and the larger Dharma. Or perhaps they aren’t — perhaps they are distilled truth that requires no interpretation and can only be made clear by sudden enlightenment. Unfortunately, that is the inherent problem with “modern American koans,” as by definition they have yet to stand the test of time, and consequently their ability to clearly convey difficult teachings.
Personally, I think Zen Master Raven is a quality showing for students looking for an entry into kōan study. It provides a taste of traditional methods, presented in the familiar style of parables and couched in an easy story structure. I found the arrangement of the koans to be very important, with a number of those that do appear very “on the nose” presented as an entryway to a theme that explores subsequently deeper kōans.
While the presence of simpler kōans in the collection doesn’t detract from the value of the book as a whole, their frequency, and occasional proximity, can make it a bit more tiresome to digest for well-prepared students.
However, it could be argued that this provides a unique benefit to students who have spent more time with koans: the opportunity to decide for themselves, and their students, which of these koans are worth collecting and preserving through the years, and which provide the most benefit to newer students by virtue of their placement and position inside Zen Master Raven as a complete text.
Robert Aitkin’s Zen Master Raven is a valuable collection of teachings from a renowned teacher, presented with a focus on ease of access. While some students may question the value of some parables as kōans, that in itself may be a valuable step for their practice. However, all students are likely to find value in Zen Master Raven as a broad introduction to Aitkin’s teachings, and to his philosophy on transmitting the Dharma.