Hōjōki: Visions of a Torn World

“Hōjōki” (1212), often translated as “An Account of My Hut” or “Ten Foot Square Hut,” is a short nonfiction work by famous Japanese poet and essayist Kamo no Chōmei (1155-1216). In the essay, Chōmei details the various natural disasters and political events that prompted his retreat from society. Chōmei contemplates the Buddhist teachings of enlightenment and impermanence as he describes his reclusive lifestyle living in a 10-foot square hut in the mountains. “Hōjōki” is considered a classic work of “recluse literature,” and Kamo no Chōmei's writings are widely studied in Japan.

This guide uses the 1972 hardback edition translated by A. L. Sadler and published by the Charles E. Tuttle Company, Inc.

Chōmei opens with a metaphor, comparing mankind and their dwellings to a ceaselessly flowing river. He describes how homes in the capital are rarely built to last for generations, but instead are repeatedly torn down and rebuilt. Similarly, the people on the street are often strangers rather than long-time friends. Chōmei contemplates why people grow attached to their dwellings when neither buildings nor people last: “Like the dew on the morning glory are man and his house, who knows which will survive the other?” (1).

Chōmei goes on to describe a number of disasters that occurred in Kyoto during his time there. He describes a large fire “[i]n the third year of the Angen” (2) that swept through the city, destroyed many major buildings, and killed thousands of people. Chōmei criticizes people who built their homes in Kyoto, stating that “to spend money and time on building houses in such a dangerous spot as the Capital is foolish indeed beyond measure” (3).

A typhoon occurred several years later. Chōmei writes about the destruction caused by the strong winds, noting that many houses were severely damaged or completely destroyed, while “pieces of board and shingles filled the air like driven leaves in winter” and “[t]he dust was as thick as smoke” (3). Many people were injured during reconstruction efforts.

Chōmei then discusses the moving of the capital city, which happened several months after the typhoon. He states that moving the capital “without any good reason” irritated the general populace (4), but that anyone who sought financial success or political advancement had no choice but to go, too. With this mass exodus, many homes in the old capital fell into disrepair while others were dismantled and shipped to the new capital. Chōmei himself visited the new capital; he disliked the noise and smell from the ocean, and he felt that “the site was cramped and too narrow” for proper streets (5). The native inhabitants of the city were unhappy with the influx of new arrivals while the former residents of the old capital disliked the new location. Chōmei also recalls a shift away from leisurely court elegance towards a more militaristic environment, primarily in fashion and transportation. Some believed that these changes indicated increasing civil unrest, a belief with which Chōmei concurred. The following winter, the capital was changed back to its previous location.

Chōmei reflects on the humility of past rulers, then describes the conditions that led to the Famine of Yōwa. Droughts, typhoons, and floods led to a failed harvest, and people deserted their lands. Poverty skyrocketed, and “respectable citizens who ordinarily wore hats and shoes now went barefooted begging from house to house” (7) in streets lined with the bodies of those who had starved. Conditions worsened: mountain temples were looted, parents died and left behind young children, and monks could not perform funeral rites due to the vast number of dead. Instead, they “[wrote] the syllable ‘A’ on the foreheads of all they found, that they might receive enlightenment and enter Amida's Paradise” (8).

In the second year of the Genryaku period (around 1184 or 1185), a large earthquake struck the region, killing many and damaging the vast majority of buildings in the city. The aftershocks lasted for months. Chōmei points out that in the wake of such disasters, people often discuss “the impermanence of all earthly things” and the follies of material attachments (10), but with time, they forget and return to their old ways. Chōmei suggests that many stressors of life stem from an attachment to “locality and rank” (11). This holds true for people with or without wealth: “If you have a lot of property you have many cares, while if you are poor there is always plenty to worry you” (11).

From these observations, Chōmei concluded that living within society made him unhappy. He gave up his inherited estate in favor of a smaller cottage, then, at around 50 years old, he “abandoned the world and retired” (12). Now 60, Chōmei lives in his hut on Mount Hino, where he intends to spend the rest of his life. The hut is tiny and easily transportable, made of “plastered earth” with a thatched roof. He has an offering shelf and a shrine to Amida Buddha; some books of poems and Buddhist scriptures; a writing table; a harp and a lute; a “fire-box”; and a straw mat for a bed. Outside, he tends to a small garden and collects water in a basin, and that is the extent of his dwelling.

Chōmei spends the majority of his time admiring nature and practicing Buddhism. He describes the peace that comes with living in isolation: “[T]here is none to rebuke me, no companion to make me feel ashamed” regardless of his behavior (15). Some days he observes boats on the distant river or writes poetry; other days, he composes music or goes for walks with the teenage boy who lives nearby. Together, they climb tall hills and observe the capital city, or they travel to various shrines and temples, collecting fruits and plants on the way back.

At night, Chōmei admits, he thinks of his old life. On occasion, he is reminded of how isolated he is, and he misses old friends. He explains that he initially planned for his stay to be temporary, “but five years have already passed” (17). He has heard of several deaths of prominent figures in the capital, as well as various fires that may have damaged several homes.

Chōmei finds his current life very peaceful. His small home fits his needs, as he has no visitors, family, or servants to accommodate. Chōmei stresses the importance of self-sufficiency: “And to go on foot and do one's own work is the best road to strength and health” (19). Chōmei believes that food and clothing should be made with local materials; in isolation, appearances do not matter, and meager meals teach people to appreciate their food.

Chōmei contemplates the approaching end of his life. Though he feels content in his isolation, he wonders whether he has truly renounced earthly attachments in accordance with Buddhist teachings. He worries that he is too fond of his small hut and the beauty of nature, though he acknowledges that he cannot know whether his preference for his hut has truly hindered his journey toward enlightenment. Chōmei closes with a poem:

Sad am I at heart

When the moon’s bright silver orb

sinks behind the hill.

But how blest 't will be to see

Amida's perpetual light (21).