In our upcoming February circular, we print Essays XXII through XXV of Yoshida Kenkō’s Essays in Idleness. These passages cover the preservation of ancient court customs, the decline of elegant manners, the impermanence of dwellings, and the shifting shallows of the Asuka River. To prepare for these readings, let us explore the concept of nostalgia (fukko)[1] in Japanese literature and how we relate to the physical spaces of the past.
Kenkō expresses a deep yearning for the courtly atmosphere of previous generations, lamenting that modern life has become vulgar and hurried. He details the precise layout of ancient palaces, the traditional names of court offices, and the proper rituals for ceremonies. This is not mere pedantry; it is an act of preservation. In a world of constant change, preserving the memory of elegant forms is a way to resist the decay of culture. Kenkō's nostalgia is active: it seeks to keep the best of the past alive as a standard of taste and conduct.
Yet, Kenkō balances this conservative impulse with a profound acceptance of impermanence. In Essay XXV, he muses on the ruined gardens and collapsed walls of grand estates, noting how quickly nature reclaims the works of man. He quotes the famous poem about the Asuka River[2], whose deep pools of yesterday have become today's shallows. The physical spaces we build are temporary, and even our most sacred institutions will eventually vanish. The challenge is to love the courtly atmosphere while accepting that its physical containers are as fleeting as the river's flow.
This February, we will reflect on the balance between preservation and surrender in our own lives. We will explore how to carry forward the elegant habits of serious reading, while accepting the impermanence of the spaces we occupy, learning to navigate the shifting shallows of our time with a refined, historic taste.