“I can resist everything except temptation.”1
Japan, Edo period. Two samurai cross as they walk down a country road, look at each other and, in less than a second, draw their swords and start a duel in which one or both of them die. This is what we imagine would happen in those times and circumstances, thanks to certain literature and, above all thanks to films, manga, anime, and television series that have the famous Japanese warriors as protagonists.
“When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance2
About that period, despite the historical documentation, we have more doubts than certainties, especially if we talk about fighting and martial arts in general. We have to imagine how that particular category of men thought. We have to guess how they moved, what their posture was like, and literally put ourselves in their shoes, but no matter how hard we try, we can never quite do it. And here comes the worst temptation: fill in the blanks.
It is said that Nature rejects emptiness (Natura abhorret a vacuo) and that our brain has developed, for reasons of economy, survival, and practicality, to fill the empty spaces. This is a capacity that is very useful to us in everyday life, but it becomes harmful when we use it recklessly. Having no certain information, we fill in the gaps with our presumed certainties and above all with our beliefs. Too bad that these certainties and beliefs do not have a solid basis but, as John Ford teaches, they are only legends that are handed down to us as if they were true. The real role and the figure of the samurai today have been revised in a historical key (soon I will dedicate a post to this topic), but the halo of legend that surrounds them remains because it satisfies our romantic need for heroism and chivalry. Too bad that does more harm than good. So what should we do?
“Our task as practitioners and teachers (especially if not Japanese) is twofold. The first is to remain in the tradition, in particular for us who practice a koryu (古流), that is, an old school. The second is that we must be, as Westerners, both translators and paleontologists. Precisely because we practice a martial art that has its roots in a system of at least five centuries ago and that has no connection with today’s reality, we must strive to “translate” what we know into our language and dig, just as the palenotlogists do, in search for remains that bring to light and possibly clarify the various obscure points that arise before us. We must rely both on the true and reliable historians of this field and experimenting, without however thinking of being able to change the forms and meanings of koryu at will. If we did, we would be betraying the mandate given to us by our teachers.” Andrea Re Sensei
We all remember the Jurassic Park velociraptors, probably the most famous creatures of the entire saga: they were lethal, they hunted in packs, and they were very intelligent. Too bad that the reality was very different.
They had feathers, they were the size of turkeys, and they did not hunt in packs. But for us, they continue to be those of the films, and the legend (in this case the literary and cinematographic fiction) becomes reality. But, once we leave the cinema or have finished one of Chricton’s books if we really want to know what those dinosaurs were that have so enchanted us, we must inform ourselves and study.
In the same way, we will probably never be sure about the “how” and “why” the kata we study were practiced, but we must continue to investigate. This is also part of our task as conscious and modern practitioners.