HAGAKURE
Hagakure, a renowned text with the famous line “The way of the samurai is found in death,” is a book of freedom and passion, with death at its core. Written in the mid-Edo period, this work captures the teachings of Yamamoto Tsunetomo, a samurai of the Nabeshima clan in Hizen Province, as transcribed by fellow samurai Tashiro Tsuramoto. The writer Yukio Mishima, captivated by this work, referred to it as “my only book.” By reviving the bold samurai spirit found in Hagakure, Mishima aligned the daily mindset of the samurai in turbulent times with the modern artist—the contemporary samurai.
As many are familiar, the phrase “The way of the samurai is found in death” leaves a powerful impression and is often misunderstood. It does not encourage reckless death or destructive thoughts but rather reflects a deeper philosophy. As expressed in Hagakure, “There is a feeling of relief when drenched in a downpour. If one is resolved from the beginning to get wet, there is no discomfort—being soaked is the same.” This is a book that seeks to understand human feelings with precision, deriving practical insights for daily life. It grasps death as a peak of completion, urging us to embrace life’s greatest certainty, allowing us to live fully. The paradoxical philosophy of Hagakure presents death as a catalyst for freedom, passion, and the energy to live—a “philosophy of life” with death at its heart. (Miyoko Tanaka, Literary Critic)
In the West, the term memento mori—meaning “remember that you must die”—has inspired countless thinkers and artists from ancient Rome to the present day. While its current interpretation often emphasizes the idea of living mindfully by being aware of death, it shares a timeless truth with the phrase from Hagakure. The origin of memento mori dates back to ancient Rome, where victorious generals would be reminded during triumphal parades that today’s victory could mean nothing tomorrow. As Christianity spread in medieval Europe, the term gained a moral nuance, urging people not to cling too tightly to the fleeting material world.
Memento mori became a prominent theme in Renaissance art, especially after the Black Death, which heightened awareness of mortality. “The Dance of Death” allegories became popular, depicting the inevitability of death for all living beings, regardless of rank or age. In the Baroque period, the theme persisted but evolved into more abstract forms, using symbols like flowers, candles, and clocks.
Steve Jobs, in his famous 2005 commencement speech at Stanford University, offered a modern interpretation of memento mori, saying, “Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.” This reflects the modern understanding that awareness of death can help us live more meaningfully in the present.
“Stay hungry. Stay foolish.” — Steve Jobs (Full Speech Translation: Nikkei)
When a community—whether a nation, culture, or society—faces external cultural encroachment, the customs and values that once upheld it begin to erode, leading to moral and spiritual decay, and eventual collapse. Yukio Mishima foresaw this in postwar Japan, as he predicted the spiritual crisis and collapse of the “philosophy of life” that once shaped the nation. He diagnosed the symptoms of modern civilization with deep insight, dedicating himself to finding a solution.
In Introduction to Hagakure, Mishima wrote, “I believe that art cannot thrive in isolation. Art must constantly be threatened and inspired by things beyond itself; otherwise, it will wither and die. This is why I am not a believer in art for art’s sake.” The samurai in Hagakure were not merely skilled professionals or specialists. They were figures who staked their entire existence, their whole selves, on serving the greater good, embodying the ultimate ideal of humanity in their service to others.
As art critic Miyoko Tanaka notes, Mishima’s vision of the artist was one who, in every moment of creation, ascends toward death, sustaining the tension of mortality, and enduring the solitary struggles of daily life. In this sense, the artist becomes the perfect embodiment of the samurai spirit in Hagakure—living while constantly confronting death.
Postwar Japan saw the collapse of many of the ideals that once inspired people. The loss of absolute values left individuals confronting their own physical existence without the moral or spiritual frameworks that once guided them. Mishima lamented this in Introduction to Hagakure, writing, “After the war, a new literary wave surged around me, but I felt no intellectual or emotional connection to it. The only thing that passed me like a storm was the vitality of those with different beliefs and sensitivities. But I felt lonely, and I began to ask myself, what is my final refuge?” That refuge was Hagakure, and Mishima poured his passion into living and practicing its teachings.
Hagakure was Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s warning against the decadent trends of the Genroku era, and Mishima mourned the state of Japanese culture during and after the war.
Over the twenty years following the war, Japanese society underwent changes that seemed to fulfill the predictions of Hagakure. There were no more samurai, no wars, and the economy recovered, leading to a general sense of peace and stability, yet the youth grew restless.
The ethical questions of how to live one’s life, once the central concern of many, were replaced by the pursuit of scientific advancements, health techniques, and trivial interests in daily life. A culture of superficial knowledge and fragmented “how-to” guides flourished, continuing into the present day.
For us today, the concept of death may seem distant compared to ancient Rome, medieval Europe, or even the Pacific War era. However, the global spread of COVID-19 and other societal shifts have prompted us to reflect on it once again.
Death, unchanged from the time of Hagakure to today, remains a constant presence in our lives. From this perspective, Hagakure‘s message about death is not something extraordinary. Contemplating death every day is, in a sense, equivalent to contemplating life itself. Hagakure reminds us that when we face our work with the mindset that we might die today, that work suddenly shines with new vitality. It offers us a chance to reflect on our views of life and death in the postwar peace and reconsider them in light of the timeless wisdom of Hagakure.