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ぼぼ「開」 老師 Bobo-rōshi
[Cf. The character 開 (kai = open/ing = cunt) is supposed to be read bobo in most senryū (川柳).]
(English:) “Friar Fuck”; “Master of Fuck”
(Magyar:) „Likbarát”; „Résben-mester”; „Pinabubus tanító”*
*Hungarian translations ©Terebess Gábor
 Tartalom |
 Contents |
Janwillem van de Wetering: |
Bobo Rōshi, “Friar Fuck” The Bobo-roshi Bathroom Dialogues 2 the tale of bobo-roshi PDF: Mystical Eroticism in Bataille, Miller, and Ikkyu |
Donald Richie (1924-2013)
Bobo Rōshi, “Friar Fuck”
In: Zen Inklings: Some Stories, Fables, Parables, and Sermons (Buddhism & Eastern Philosophy), Tokyo: John Weatherhill, 1982, pp. 3ff.
Not long ago in Kyoto, there was a priest known as Bobo Rōshi, “Friar Fuck.” A model trainee for twenty years, Bobo was getting nowhere in his practice and one day, confused and disheartened, he decided to visit the Shimabara pleasure district. At the instant of his first orgasm in years, Bobo underwent a wrenching satori. His experience was recognized as genuine and, it is said, he continued to visit Shimabara every once in a while to deepen his understanding of Zen. Appropriately, Bobo Rōshi's grave is marked by a giant stone phallus.
Cf. Lust for Enlightenment: Buddhism and Sex by John Stevens, Shambhala Publications. Kindle Edition.
Janwillem van de Wettering (1931-2008)
The Bobo-roshi
PDF: The Empty Mirror: Experiences in a Japanese Zen Monastery (1972)
Han-san relates the following story [note: In Japanese, "bobo" is apparently a word for intercourse, and of course "roshi" means master]:
Bobo-roshi is a Zen master, but different. If you like I'll tell you what I know, but I don't know if it's all true; I only know about him by hearsay and I have only met him once. He seems to be an ordinary man but he laughs a lot and he has a very deep voice and he dresses strangely. He never wears the Zen robes but usually dresses in a simple kimono, like artists do, and sometimes he wears western clothes, jeans and a jersey, like you do. They say he has spent years in a Zen monastery, in the southern part of Kyoto. It's a severe monastery, the rules are applied very strictly, more strictly than here. For instance, I believe they get up at 2 a.m. every day. He is supposed to have been a very diligent monk, rather overdoing things even, making extra rules for himself and all that. But he didn't understand his koan and the master was hard on him; whenever he wanted to say something the master would pick up his bell and ring him out of the room. He was treated that way for years on end. He was doing extra meditation, sleeping in the lotus position, trying everything he could think of, but the koan remained as mysterious as ever. I don't know how long this situation lasted, six years, ten years maybe, but then he had enough. I don't think he even said goodbye, he just left, in ordinary clothes, with a little money he had saved, or which had been sent to him from home.
Now you must realize that he had been a monk a long time and didn't know anything about civilian life. He had never climbed the wall at night [i.e. sneaked out of the monastery as many did for less, umm, spiritual pursuits]. He was a real monk, sober, quiet, always in command of himself. And there he was, in a sunny street, in a busy city, thousands of people all about, all doing something, all going somewhere. He wandered about the city and found himself in the willow quarter, perhaps within an hour of leaving the monastery gate. In the willow quarter there are always women standing in their doors, or pretending to be busy in their gardens. One of the women called him, but he was so innocent that he didn't know what she wanted. He went to her and asked politely what he could do for her. She took him by the hand and led him into her little house. They say she was beautiful; who knows? Some of these women aren't beautiful at all but they are attractive in a way, or they wouldn't have any earnings.
She helped him undress - he must have understood then what was going on. She must have asked him for money and he must have given it to her. Then she took him to her bath, that's the custom here. Your shoulders are massaged and you are dried with a clean towel and they talk to you. Slowly you become very excited and when she feels you are ready she takes you to the bedroom. He must have been very excited after so many years of abstaining. At the moment he went into her he solved his koan. He had an enormous satori, one of those rare satoris which are described in our books, not a little understanding which can be deepened later but the lot at once, an explosion which tears you to pieces and you think the world has come to an end, that you can fill the emptiness of the universe in every possible sphere. When he left the woman he was a master.
Henry Miller (1891-1980)
Bathroom Dialogues 2
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TK1iY1Ys6zo
http://theclubdiogenes.blogspot.hu/2013_09_01_archive.html
huh, here's a wonderful zen story. it's huh, about, huh, a monk called roshi bobo, which in english means master of fuck. now the title shouldn't throw anyone and may not mean exactly what people think. huh, but there's one thing you can say about the master of fuck, that this fuck is an extraordinary one like none that ever was before. and the whole story concerns a young man fifteen years of age whose parents sent him to a zen monastery to become a monk and of course to receive enlightenment. umm... he was a fairly bright young man, good looking, obedient and huh, as far as anyone can see huh... good material. but umm, after a few years, huh, nothing seemed to happen, he didn't seem to be getting anywhere. five years past, nothing, ten, and even his masters began to despair of him. finally after fifteen years he decided that he didn't have it in him, he didn't have what it takes, and, he would go out and enjoy earthly, huh, life, you know... be a man of the world, if he couldn't be a monk. so he slipped out one night with his bag and baggage and huh, he wandered in to the red light district. and there he encountered a girl... seemed to him like a geisha, and he went to bed with her, immediately. well, it was his first experience with a woman, and umm... instead of being awkward though, and embarrassed and shy, and so on... he seemed to be very adept, his senses were highly attune from his zen training. he was aware of her body, the touch, the smell... everything! even when the clothes dropped to the floor... created a sensation in him. so, in the midst of this huh, marvelous, huh, experience, he suddenly has what he couldn't get in the monastery; the experience of satori. he saw things as they are and were and always will be, once and forever, clearly, you know... which is, huh, really what enlightenment is all about, don't ya know! the important thing was he had allowed himself to go to the very end of doubt and despair. had he not, you see, this would never had happened. but he went to the very end of the tunnel and saw the light. and huh, this is, of course, huh, something does not happen to people in psychoanalysis. they may be adapted to our corrupt world when they're finished, but they never reach satori, do you see... and they never see things as they really are, in my opinion. and of course, there's another aspect to it, huh, and a very wonderful one... it's like william blakes idea of going, of reaching heaven through hell. it doesn't matter what road you take to, huh, reach paradise. and beside that even, one might say that paradise is not even just around the corner but right under your nose, if you, you know, if you happen to be lucky and aware enough, you know... and i think that's the great burden of it, that one should, huh, one should, how shall i say... accept his doubts completely, as the buddha once advised, you know... accept despair and anguish and frustration and see it through. don't go to a doctor, don't go to an analyst above all, heh, heh heh...
Cf. Henry Miller's Zen aesthetics and critique of modernity, pp. 72-76.
In: "Zen Buddhism as Radical Conviviality in the Works of Henry Miller, Kenneth Rexroth, and Thomas Merton"
by Manuel Yang
http://www.academia.edu/7437373/_Zen_Buddhism_as_Radical_Conviviality_in_the_Works_of_Henry_Miller_Kenneth_Rexroth_and_Thomas_Merton_
the tale of bobo-roshi
http://www.thenonist.com/index.php/weblog/permalink/the_tale_of_bobo_roshi/
posted by tbuckner on 09/15
janwillem van de wetering is dutch; the w's are spoken as v's, just so you know. he's about the same age as ringo starr, and somehow or other decided to go to japan in ‘58 at the age of 18 to join a zen monastery, where he remained for a year and a half. he was a odd fit, a gaijin and rather old for a neophyte; most of the other monks were sent there by their families as boys of ten or so. the ‘abbot' or head dude of a zen monastery is the roshi (master). van de wetering was surprised when a jesuit priest came to visit the roshi, but the jesuit and the roshi were friends, and zen and the jesuits had a lot in common. like jesuits, the zen monks rose earlier than roosters and meditated, and spent much of the day working around the monastery while thinking deep thoughts about getting beyond deep thought. as everybody now knows, zen uses nonsensical koans as an intellectual catapult to a place if insight and instinct beyond intellect. the roshi gives you a koan and periodically you go in and try to answer it. if you're wrong he gives you a whack with a slapstick and you go back to the problem. you're stuck there until you solve the koan, and when you do, the roshi gives you a new one to work on. eventually, he decides you've learned enough. maybe you'll go start your own monastery.
in my book the essence of the zen understanding is the answer, “mu!” basically a nonsense answer, but it's a way of saying, “i see! it's the question that's the problem! we should never have asked that question in the first place! it only leads to confusion! it only makes you crazy!” how many angels can dance on the head of a pin? mu! free will or destiny? mu! pascal's wager? mu!
van de wetering was shocked to hear the other monks (remember, they were mostly younger than he) whispering among themselves about somebody called bobo-roshi. in english, it translated as “master fuck.” bobo-roshi, they told him, was the roshi of another monastery, and obviously they wouldn't say that to his face; and that wasn't his real name. i forget; let's call him joe.
joe the monk was a very conscientious, hard-working zen monk. he worked and he read and he meditated and he read and he worked and he meditated. years went by, and he just couldn't get his koan. everybody agreed he was an admirable man, a top-drawer monk, but he stayed stuck on his first koan. he would go see the roshi, and emerge disappointed, and go back to work. other monks progressed, and left, and he was by far the oldest monk in the place, a grown-ass man, but still stuck on his first koan. a failure.
so one day he went to the roshi and said, “i am sorry, i've failed. i know i am a disappointment to you. i must leave.” he changed into regular clothes, packed his things, and walked into the city, at loose ends. he had some money, but he didn't know what to do with himself.
so joe the ex-monk wandered about, had something to eat, looked at the shops, and somewhere along the way concluded that there was one thing he might as well investigate, now that there was nobody to tell him not to. joe encountered a prostitute, went up to her place, plunked down his money, and lost his virginity. at the moment of ejaculation, a light went on in his head (or maybe a better analogy is an engine roaring to life when the carburetor gets unclogged?) he threw his clothes on and ran back to the monastery. the roshi was waiting at the gate.
after that, things went smoothly for him. he grasped his koans with great speed, progressed rapidly, and was now roshi in his own monastery. hearing this story, janwillem asked his fellow teenage monks, “so if he's so good, why don't you study under him?” horrified, they replied, “Oh, no! he's too strict!”
van de wetering reports that when he left, he was required to see the roshi first, and feared the roshi would be angry at him. but the roshi said: “you are like a sword that has been tempered in a fire. no matter what you do now, you will cut to the core.”
Janwillem van de Wetering:
Az üres tükör - Tapasztalatok egy zen kolostorban
Szentendre, 1999
Fordította: Farkas Tünde
Szatori a fűznegyedben
[Részlet a könyvből, 158-162. oldal:]- Adj egy kis kávét - mondta Han-szan. - Az
ilyen szabad napban tulajdonképpen nem sok
örömöm telik. Mit is kezdhetnénk vele? Még este
sincs, és nekem már fáj a fejem. A többiek itt
kóvályognak a kolostorban szerteszét, és az elöljáró
ügyel rájuk. Ö maga persze egy kortyot sem
ivott, csak úgy tett, mintha ő is benne lenne a mókában.
Igazából azonban arra vigyáz, nehogy túl
sok mocskot kelljen holnap feltakarítani.- Mégis, mit szeretnél csinálni? - kérdeztem -
Felvenni a civil ruhádat, és átmászni a falon?- Nem - felelte Han-szan. - Az nem volna helyes.
Hagyomány, hogy a kolostor falain belül kell
szórakoznunk, és az elöljáró mindig megszámlál
bennünket: megvagyunk-e. Unalmas az élet itt a
kolostorban. Ha lenne merszem, Bobo-rosi tanítványául
szegődnék. Az egészen más cég.A rosi mestert jelent, a bobo pedig az együtthálás
durva megnevezése.- Bobo-rosi?
Han-szan felült, szó nélkül kivett egy szál cigarettát
a dobozomból és rágyújtott. Ilyet se csinált
még: azelőtt mindig megkérdezte, szabad-e.- Igen - mondta. - Még sohasem hallottál róla?
Péter ismeri, de jellemző Péterre, hogy nem szólt
róla. Azt hiszem, az elöljáró egész jól ismeri.
Bobo-rosi is zenmester, de egészen másfajta. Ha
akarod, elmesélem, amit tudok róla. Persze nem
biztos, hogy minden igaz, én magam is csak hallomásból
ismerem, és egyszer láttam. Olyan, mint
egy akármilyen ember, de sokat nevet azon a különlegesen
mély hangján, és furcsán öltözik. Sohasem
visel zenköpenyt, hanem általában kimonót,
mint a művészek, és néha farmert és pulóvert,
akárcsak te. Azt mondják, évekig egy zen kolostorban
élt, Dél-Kiotóban. Ez a kolostor nagyon
szigorú, minden szabályt betartanak, szigorúbban,
mint nálunk. Például ott éjszaka kettőkor
kelnek, azt hiszem, minden nap. Állítólag nagyon
buzgó szerzetes volt, olyan, aki inkább többet vállal,
saját szabályokat is előír magának, satöbbi. De
nem értette meg a koanját, és a mester nagyon
keményen bánt vele. Valahányszor csak mondani
akart valamit, a mester csengetett, és ezzel elküldte.
Évekig ez ment. Bobo-rosi a szükségesnél
jóval többet meditált, lótuszülésben aludt, mindent,
de mindent megpróbált, de a koan éppoly
megfejthetetlen maradt, mint addig. Nem tudom,
mennyi ideig folyt ez így, talán hat évig, talán tízig,
mindenesetre egyszer aztán elege lett. Azt hiszem,
még csak búcsút se vett, egyszerűen lelépett,
civil ruhában, egy kis pénzzel, amit összespórolt
vagy amit otthonról küldtek neki.Elképzelheted: hosszú évekig szerzetes volt,
semmit se tudott a külső életről. Nem mászkált át
a falon éjszakánként. Igazi szerzetes volt: csendes,
józan, mindig fegyelmezett. Most pedig ott állt a
napsütötte utcán, egy ismeretlen nagyvárosban,
ezernyi tevékeny, sürgő-forgó, siető ember között.
Kóborolt a városban, és elérkezett a fűznegyedbe,
talán egy órával a kolostor elhagyása után.
A fúznegyed asszonyai az ajtójukban állnak, vagy
úgy tesznek, mintha a kertjükben dolgoznának.
Az egyik ilyen nő megszólította, ő meg, amilyen
naiv volt, azt sem tudta, miért hívja. Odament és
udvariasan megkérdezte, miben lehetne a szolgálatára.
A nő kézen fogta és bevezette a házacskába.
Állítólag szép volt. Ki tudja? Némelyik rosszlány
egyáltalán nem szép, de valami vonzerejük
mégiscsak kell legyen, különben nem keresnének
egy fillért sem.Nos, az asszony levetkőztette. Akkor már biztosan
felfogta, miről is van szó. Állítólag pénzt
kért tőle, ő pedig oda is adta. Akkor aztán bevitte
a fürdőbe, ez itt így szokás. Masszírozzák a vállad,
tiszta törölközővel törülgetnek, beszélnek
hozzád. Az ember rettenetesen felizgul, és amikor
úgy gondolják, hogy készen állsz, akkor visznek
a hálószobába. Gondolhatod, ennyi év önmegtartóztatás
után ő is mennyire izgatott lehetett! És
abban a pillanatban, amikor egyesült a nővel,
megoldotta a koanját. Egészen különleges szatoriélménye
volt, olyan, amilyent a nagykönyv megír:
nem csupán egy kis megértés, amit később elmélyíthetünk,
hanem nagyon sok egyszerre, robbanásszerűen,
mintha darabokra szakadnál, és
azt hinnéd, hogy a világűrt az utolsó szögletéig
képes volnál betölteni. Amikor a nőtől elment,
már mester volt. Nem vizsgáltatta azonban meg a
szatoriját más mesterekkel, hanem sok-sok éven
át nem is érintkezett a zen szektával. Járta az országot,
és mindenfélével foglalkozott. Teherautó-sofőrként
dolgozott egy hatalmas kamionon, kikötőmunkás
is volt, és pincér egy kisvendéglőben,
néha pedig a koldusok közé vegyült egy-egy
nagyvárosban. Azt mondják, hogy sohasem felejtette
el szatorija és a szex kapcsolatát, és mindig
sok barátja meg barátnője volt.Aztán visszajött ide Kiotóba, és kibérelt egy félig
romos házat. Most ott van a tanítványaival;
mind fura figurák, akik semmit sem adnak a hagyományos
kolostori iskolázásra. Azt csinálnak,
amit akarnak, nem követnek szabályokat. Ő pedig
a maga modorában foglalkozik velük, de zen
módszerrel, koanokkal és meditációval. A többi
mester elismeri Bobo-rosit, hisznek a teljes megvi-
lágosodásában, és ha jól tudom, sohasem bírálják.
Természetesen akadnak olyan fiatal szerzetesek,
akik azt hiszik: az ő házában minden nap ünnepnap.
Lehet, hogy így van, de én nem hiszek ebben.Növekvő meghökkentséggel hallgattam Han-szant,
és jó időbe telt, míg meg tudtam szólalni:- Akkor tényleg igaz, hogy a zenkiképzés szabad?
Han-szan kedvetlenül nézett rám.
- Szabad? Hát mi az, hogy szabad? A fiúknak
ott is meg kell dolgozniuk a betevő falatért. Ez
már kötöttség. Aztán meditálniuk is kell, mégpedig
biztosan nem csak egy fél órácskát, és akkor,
amikor kedvük tartja. Meglehet: Bobo-rosi a kurvanegyedben
élte át a szatorit, de előtte hosszú
éveken át tanult. A víz hirtelen kezd forrni, de
előtte már jó ideig melegednie kell. Bobo-rosi éveken
át vándorolt, mielőtt tanítani kezdett volna,
és azt hiszem, ez is sok fegyelmet követelt. Az ő
házában valószínűleg ugyanolyan kemény az
élet, mint nálunk, éppen csak más módon. Semmit
nem kapsz meg ingyen, ennyit már megtanultam.
Lehet, hogy ott ünnepeket ülnek, én meg átmászom
a falon. És a mi mesterünk is meg tud tanítani
sok mindenre.
