A snail approaches Mt. Fuji, a metaphor for determination and perseverance against daunting odds by famous Zen acolyte and swordsman-turned-scholar Yamaoka Tesshu. Ink on paper in cloth border with wood rollers. The scroll is 57 x 210 cm (22-1/2 x 82-1/2 inches) and in original condition, with some wrinkles in the paper and a pair of stains in the upper left of the border cloth.
One of the best-known literary mentions of this theme is the haiku by Kobayashi Issa (1763–1828): Katatsumuri / Sorosoro nobore / Fuji no yama (Snail— steadily ascend, a Mountain called Fuji). This metaphor is often referenced in Zen Buddhism and literary arts, and it typically conjures the image of a tiny snail slowly inching its way up the immense and majestic Mt. Fuji; a poetic and philosophical image that encapsulates themes of perseverance, humility, and the slow pursuit of great aspirations. Tesshu was no stranger to great endeavors. A great warrior, calligrapher, zen practioner and scholar. For him, the image in Zen is used to describe slow but steady spiritual progress. Enlightenment is not instant; it’s something that may take a lifetime (or many lifetimes), like a snail inching its way up a sacred mountain. The snail, despite its slowness, continues to climb. It becomes a symbol of the virtue of quiet endurance—the idea that even small or humble beings can reach great heights through persistence. The vast scale of Mt. Fuji compared to the tiny snail emphasizes human humility before the enormity of nature or enlightenment.
Yamaoka Tesshu (1836-1889) was a student of military arts and famous calligrapher. Born into a samurai family, Tesshu began studying swordsmanship from a very young age. He took the name Yamaoka upon marrying the daughter of a spear school, continuing the family name in their place. An avid devotee to Zen training, he attained enlightenment at 45. A compatriot of the infamous Zen priest Nakahara Nantenbo, the two established a Zen training center together. He was a bodyguard and teacher to the young Meiji emperor, Zen teacher, poet, swordsman and artist, a giant of a man containing all of these personalities (or perhaps none?) He died of stomach cancer at the age of 54, his last poem reading Tightening my stomach against the pain, The cry of a morning crow…
Antique, meiji, lapanese, painting, scroll, zen & scholar, scholar, calligraphy
