Matsuo Basho traveled extensively. And Bashō no yōna likes to travel, but why?
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” — Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad, Chapter LXI (61)
Why do we travel? In the hopes to see others, As others see us.
The wife’s in London Like ants, tourists swarm the streets, — ‘Tis time to come home.
Matsuo Basho (1644-1690) did not invent the travelogue in Japan. He did, however, popularize it with the publication of Oku no Hosomichi, a Journey into Japan’s northern interior. His other journeys also became books weaving together observations about what he saw and haiku.
“Days and months are travelers of eternity. So are the years that pass by. Those who steer a boat across the sea, or drive a horse over the earth till they succumb to the weight of years, spend every minute of their lives traveling. There are a great number of ancients who died on the road. I myself have been tempted for a long time by the cloud-moving wind — filled with a strong desire to wander.” Matsuo Basho, Oku no Hosomichi, the summer of 1689
In other words, travel becomes a voyage of wonder and self-discovery.
What about Alice? Where March Hare says to Alice, “You should say what you mean.” To which she replies, “I do, at least I mean what I say, that’s the same thing you know.” The Mad Hatter counters,
“Why, you might just as well say, that I see what I eat, is the same thing as I eat what I see”!”.
Words matter, they do — and it’s fun playing with them, ’til meaning gets lost
On May 27th, 1689, Matsuo Basho and his companion Kawai Sora set off on a journey north into Japan interior, then to the coast at Matsushima, and back again across the interior to Sakata, from there south and west along the coast to Osaka.
By July 13th, two months in, the pair had past Matsushima, and reached Yamadera (it translates simply to “mountain temple”) and its mountain Buddhist retreat Risshakuji. To reach the top, Basho must climb the 1,015 stone steps to Okunoin Temple. The noisy village was far behind. The mountain air was clear. His lungs were struggling to keep up. Then, as he gazed out on the valley …
Tranquility …, then, the cicada’s speaks deep within the rocks shizukasa ya . iwa ni shimiiru . semi no koe 閑けさや 岩にしみいる 蝉の声 — Matsuo Basho, Oku no Hosomichi, July 1689
Tranquility
shizukasa (閑けさ), tranquility, a state of peace and tranquility. This is often translated as “silence.” Take a walk along a creek or on a trail that leads up a mountain side. Then, half way there, when it is utterly quiet, you decide.
It is strange, to think that no matter how hard one thinks, one will never know what the cicada thinks. And that, one supposes, is the point of it.
Don’t try so hard.
Risshakuji is known as a Zen Buddhist retreat. Zen focuses on meditation as the key to understanding nature, and awakening one’s inner wisdom. I would say stress, but stress has too many contradictory connotations. In Zen, one must stay calm, relax.
sigh, this summer grass is all that remains — a mighty samurai’s dreams . natsukusa ya tsuwamono domo ga yume no ato. 夏草や兵共がゆめの跡
Hiraizumi, Iwate prefecture Summer 1689
Like swallows, like the stork, like the Monarch butterfly, in summer, man migrates from home to vacation and suffer the heat. Matsuo Basho did not invent summer travel in Japan, but he did popularize it. His travelogues, a combination of haiku and commentary on local scenes were published during and after his lifetime. Highways were built.* Way stations were maintained and rest-stops and inns were conveniently located at distances of 20 miles apart.
Along the Oku no Hosomichi, Basho’s journey into Japan’s northern interior in the summer of 1689.
At Hiraizumi, the northernmost point on Basho’s journey that one day would be called Oku no Hosomichi, Basho detoured to the land where the Oshu Fujiwara clan prospered for three generations in the late Heian period (Heian, meaning peace, 794 to 1185).
Here, Minamoto no Yoshitsune, the third generation of the powerful Minamoto clan, fled fleeing the fickle emperor for whom he had gallantly fought but now was condemned. Far to the north, surrounded by mountains, to Hiraizumi he fled. Given refuge, he lived in peace, until the death of his protector whose son betrayed vilely him. In a final battle, Yoshitsune met his end.
Standing on the hill, in the midst of the dying summer grass, there Yoshitsune’s forces fought to the last man.
What do you think?
Grass as a metaphor for a dead warrior
Basho’s thoughts: “Three generations of glory of the Fujiwara clan vanished like a dream; the hills and rivers remain unchanged, as they were in the past.” How Dao, death comes to us all, and Nature reclaims everything, in the passage of time, restoring what is to the way it once was.
“Cry out,” a voice said, And said I, “What shall I cry?” “Our flesh is like grass, its beauty like the flower of the field… The grass withers, the flower fades.” Isaiah, 40:6–8
“I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.” Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1855
Note. Five Routes established by the Tokugawa shogunate. The Nakasendo and Tokaido were the most popular. Both connected Edo and Kyoto, the Nakasendo through the mountains, Tokaido along the coast. The Japanese artist Utagawa Hiroshige immortalized the “55 Stations of the Tokaido” in print.
May has come, May has gone, May it come again… — Bashō no yōna, 2024
The passage of time is persistent theme in Basho’s haiku. The prologue to his travelogue Oku no Hosomichi goes like this:
The Narrow Road to Northern Interior
Prologue “Days and months travel throughout eternity. So too are the years that pass. Those of us who steer a boat across the sea, or drive a horse over the earth till they succumb beneath the weight of years, spend every moment traveling throughout their lives. A great number of the ancients, died on the road (Way). For a long time I was tempted by the cloud-moving wind, filled with an irresistible wanderlust”. — Matsuo Basho, Prologue to Oku no Hosomichi
It was in the spring of 1689 that Matsuo Basho began his adventure. On the 27th of the third lunar month, not March according to the Gregorian calendar, but near May the 14th. Basho did not complete the book in his lifetime. He died in 1694 and publication of the book Oku no Hosomichi occurred some eight years later in 1704.
Since then, it has been read and read again.
It is now May 26, 2025, Memorial Day, a fitting day to remember May again.
“It was early on the morning of the 27th day of the 3rd lunar month (March 27th) that I took to the road.“
Traveling by foot, by boat, by horse, Matsuo Basho and his traveling companion Sora made and epic journey along Japan’s “narrow roads into the back country” (奥の細道, Oku no hosomichi). Along the way, they visited shrines, saw historical battle sites, watched the moon and sun, observing, seeing friends, and making new acquaintances. The trip lasted five months, about 156 days and nights, a journey of almost 1,500 miles, ending at Ogaki where Basho’s friends rejoiced at seeing him again.
[Basho used the ancient Japanese lunar calendar as an occasional reference. In terms of the Gregorian calendar, Basho began in May, dates vary according to scholars from the 6th to the 27th. Let us split the difference and choose May 14th.]
Start
Edo, Adachi Bridge
End
Ogaki,
Start date
27th day of the 3rd lunar month, ca. May 14th
End date
ca. 6th day of the 9th lunar month, ca. October 17th
Average daily distance
10 miles
Distance
approx. 1,500 miles
Days and Nights
ca. 156 days and nights
The Beginning
So begins Matsuo Basho’s departure on his journey that was to be called, “Oku no Hosomichi.” Translated into English, the Journey into (Japan’s) Northern Interior. It was interior in name only, as, for most of the trip, Basho skirted the eastern and western shores of Japan’s Honsho island. The trip lasted some five months, beginning in March, according to the ancient Japanese calendar, and therefore ending in late July or August.
Prologue
Departure, Adachi Bridge. On the twenty-seventh day of the Third Month (May 14th, 1689).
Soka, from Adachi Bridge to the fish market at Soka was all Basho went. Five miles is all one can go, one gets used to walking, to carrying a backpack with needed things, and things given as gifts, things one hates to throw away, but should.
Muro no yashima, a Shinto shrine (now Ōmiwa Shrine) in Tochigi. Basho and Sora have traveled 60 miles in three days. The route takes them on a gentle incline.
Nikko, On the 30th day (May 17th), Climbed Mt. Nikko. At the inn where he stays, his host Honest Gozaemon (whose name means both “doorway” and “to protect”) told Basho “to sleep in perfect peace on his grass pillow.”
Nasu, Basho had intended to arrive in Kurobane where a friend lived, but on entering Togichi Prefecture (then still a province) and the district of Nasu, he and Sora found the way blocked by a an extensive grass field, and rain began to fall. They put up for the night at a farmhouse.
Kurobane, Basho’s friend was Joboji who looked after a large mansion. Basho and Sora lingered there several days, taking in the Hachiman Shrine, the tomb of Lady Tomano, and the Komyoji Temple.
Unganji
Sesshoseki
At the Barrier Gate
Shirakawa, at the Barrier Gate, the high point on the first leg of the trip at 900 meters. There is an 800 year old cedar tree here that dates to Basho’s trip.
Sukagawa, crossing the River Abukuma, Fukashima Prefecture.
Asaka, passing through Hiwada, staying at Fukashima. Roughly 160 miles from Edo (Tokyo). A steady climb the first half of the trip to roughly 900 meters high before
Shinobu
Satoshoji
Iizuka
KasajimaProvince, stopping at Iwanuma.
Takekuma no Matsu, and its famous pine tree, cut down before Noin Hoshi (988 – c. 1051) visited, then regrown.
The Eastern Coast
Sendai, crossing the River Natori. Basho has reached the eastern shore.
Tsubo no Ishibumi, a stone monument erected in 762 to commemorate the site of the ancient Taga castle in the village of Ichikawa. An inscription gives the distance to the ancient capital of Nara.
Shiogama, along the coast, north of Sendai. Basho is a little more than one month into his trip. He notes that it is May and the curfew bells are ringing as he enters the town.
Matsushima, from Shiogama, Basho has gone only 6 miles to Matsushima, famous for its pine trees that dot the shore line and cover many small islands.
Ishinomaki, Basho notes that he left on the 12th of May, heading back into the interior in the direction of Hiraizumi, but he lost his way and arrived instead at Ishinomaki. He stayed in a miserable house and suffered an uneasy night.
Hiraizumi, some 50 miles north and west from Matsushima, where three generations of of the Fujiwara clan passed away, snatched away, and now an empty dream.
Dewa Province (Dewagoe), Basho stayed at the village of Iwate. Basho now turns west.
Obanazawa, Basho stayed with a good friend and rested.
Ryushakuji, Yamagata Province. Basho detours to a temple south of Obanazawa.
The River Mogami and Detours
Oishida, Basho goes back north to Oishida on the River Mogami.
Mogamigawa, an exciting ride down the River Mogami heading west.
Hagurosan, it is the 3rd day of June, two months into the journey.
Gassan, Basho climbed Mt. Gassan on the 8th of June. Though it is summer, Basho must walk through the cold air and snow, “nearly frozen to death” he exclaims, but greeted by the sight of a cherry tree about to blossom. Nearby is Mt. Yudono.
The Western Coast
Sakata, leaving Gassan on the 9th of June, Basho proceeded to Tsuruoka. His route follows first the Bonji River and then the larger Aka River. The downhill distance is roughly 30 miles which one can easily cover in a day. [Note. Basho says that he boarded a boat and went down the Mogami River, arriving in Sakata.]
Kisagata, north of Sakata on Japan’s western shore. It is similar to Matsushima with its pine tree covered islands.
Heading South, Towards Home— July (August)
Echigo, it was a long walk of a hundred and thirty miles to the capital of the province of Kaga. Basho was by now ready to get home.
Ichiburi, another Barrier Gate.
Kanazawa, on July 15 (August 29th by the Western calendar), Basho and Sora walked into the city of Kanazawa. Here Basho and Sora are joined by Hoishi, a disciple of Basho’s.
Komatsu, it is less than 20 miles from Kanazawa to Komatsu. The walk is flat, along the coast, and in the afternoon one walks almost into the sun. Basho observed this in a haiku, “red, red is the sun, careless of time, the wind carries the hope of autumn’s cold wind.”
NataderaTemple, six miles, a two hour walk takes Basho to the Natadera Temple, a Buddhist temple built, it was said, to enshrine the goddess of Mercy, Kannon. She gives happiness but that happiness comes at a high price. The stop is brief, it is only another two hour walk to the hot springs of Yamanaka. Here Basho bathes in the mercy of the healing hot springs.
Parting is sweet sorrow. [August 5th (mid-September), according to Sora’s Diary.] Sora, however, is seized with a stomach ailment. He parts with Basho to Nagashima in Ise Province to seek help from relatives.
Not QuiteAlone
Daishoji, the spirit is willing, the body is weak, loneliness his only companion. It is only a two hour stretch downhill from Yamanaka to Daishoji and its Zenshoji Temple. Sora had preceded Basho here and left a note saying, “All night long, I listened to the autumn wind, as it howled on the hill.”
Maruoka, an old friend makes for good company at the the Tenryuji Temple in Matsuoka. Another friend (Hokushi) met on the way at Kanazawa departs. Then a short walk to Eiheiji Temple, the Temple of Eternal Peace standing among the tall cedars on the mountainside. The temple was founded by Zen Master Dōgen in 1244.
Fukui, Basho chose not to stay at Eiheiji, but after supper walk on three miles in the darkening evening to Fukui. There he found Tosai’s humble cottage on a back street, met his wife, a sad looking woman, and eventually, in town, found Tosai. Two nights with Tosai, then back on the road to Tsuruga, accompanied by Tosai.
Tsuruga, imposing Mt. Hina, crossing the bridge of Asamuza, among the famous reeds of Tamae, through the Barrier Gate of Uguisu, over pass of Yuno, are all along the way.
The 14th of July. It rained the night of the 15th.
After dinner with wine at an inn, Basho and his host went to the Myojin Shrine of Kei, built to honor the soul of the Emperor Chuai. Ironohama, on the 16th the weather was fine and as it was his last day in Tsuruga, Basho went by boat to the beach far out on the bay to pick up colored seashells at Ironohama (Irohama 色浜).
Ogaki, it is less than 50 miles to Ogaki from Tsuruga. It was near the beginning of the 9th lunar month (October by the Gregorian calendar, somewhere near the first week).
Basho is now back on familiar ground, as he is skirting the north shore of Lake Biwa. Moreover, Basho is joined by Rotsu, and the two make a triumphal march by horseback into the city of Ogaki. Sora, too returns. And “Etsujin, came on horseback, and we all went to the house of Joko, where I enjoyed reunion with Zensen, Keiko, and his sons and many other old friends of mine who came to see me day and night.”
[Sora’s Diary says the date was September 3.]
Three days later, on September the 6th (late-October), Basho left Ogaki for home, but what is home to a traveler? Is it Edo, Kyoto, or Ueno? Basho went to see the Ise Shrine. A boat would take him there.
Postscript
Basho would not complete his book. By early summer of the seventh year of Genroku (1694), Basho’s health was failing and he asked Soryu, a scholarly Buddhist priest, to complete the task. Basho had but a few more months to live, as he died in November, on his way back to Ueno, to Kyoto, near Lake Biwa, to his final home.
Oku no Hosomichi, as the book would become known was published in 1702.
Dates
Departure — 彌生も末の七日 Yayoi mo sue no nanoka, In the last seven days (last week) of Yaoyi (the third lunar month) BAsho and Sora departed from Adachi Bridge. This is equivalent to May 16th in the Gregorian calendar. The cherry blossoms are over, the high temperature is in the 70s, it is sunny and fair.
First stop, Soka. Basho and Sora covered a little more than seven miles the first day. Basho indicates the year: “In the second year of Genroku” (元禄二, Genroku ni), the period, meaning “original happiness,” spanned the years 1688 to 1704.
At Mt. Nikko, on the 30th day of the month (卅日). Basho stayed with an innkeeper with the unusual name of Buddha Gozaemon, 仏五左衛門.
The End of March, 2nd year of Genroku, 1689 Kanuma City, Tochigi Prefecture, Oku no Hosomichi
鐘撞かぬ.里は何をか.春の暮 kane tsukanu . sato wa nani o ka . haru no kure When no bell rings What do the villagers do, — Spring Nightfall
Matsuo Basho, Oku no Hosomichi, late Spring 1689
What do you do when no bell rings to tell you its sunset?
After leaving Edo, this was Matsuo Basho’s fifth or sixth stop on his five month long journey, Oku no Hosomichi. Bell ringing at dusk is symbolic in the Buddhist religion. The ringing of the bells (or bell,m depending on the wealth of a village and its temple) is to purify the heart of its 108 earthly desires. Each stop, each village bell, on Basho’s journey, one supposes was shedding one earthly desire. At the very least, the bell told the farmers it was time for rest and relaxation.
Basho had not yet gotten to Nikko. Desiring to see Urami Falls, he took a detour. Indeed, he would take many detours along the way.
鐘撞かぬ.里は何をか.春の暮 kane tsukanu . sato wa nani o ka . haru no kure When no bell rings What do villagers do, — Spring Nightfall
“Sora is his pen name. (曾良, literally meaning “always good”). His formal name is Kawai Sōgorō (河合, 惣五郎). The eaves of his cottage line up with the lower leaves of my bashō tree, and he helped me with the chores of chopping firewood and drawing water.”
From Oku no Hosomichi, at Mt. Nikko, Basho introduces Sora, his traveling companion on the journey. He is obviously younger, and a disciple of Basho’s, which is evident from the fact the travelogue includes several of Sora’s haiku. Close to the end of the journey, at Komatsu, Sora was seized and had to leave, but returned to greet Basho at Ogaki, the end of the trip. Sora kept his own diary which details the trip the two made together.
Sora was some five years younger than Basho. His parents died when he was young, and he was adopted by his aunt, who died when he was 12. He was then taken in by a priest in Ise province. Then, like Basho, he was made a servant to a Samurai overlord, lord of the Nagashima domain in Ise. (Presumably, his connection to the Kawai clan). In 1681, he moved to Edo. This was shortly after Basho settled in at his new cottage in the Fukagawa District. There they made each other’s acquaintance. The two made a short trip together to the Kashima Shrine in today’s Ibaraki Prefecture.
The introduction begins:
“Cherishing the memory of this follower of the poetic spirit, I resolved to see the moon over the mountains of Kashima Shrine this autumn. I was accompanied by two men, a masterless samurai and an itinerant monk.”
Sora was apparently the “masterless samurai.”
In 1689, as Basho and Sora took the journey that would become Oku no Hosomichi, Sora kept his own Diary that would be published as Sora’s Diary in 1943.
There is no better rafting and kayaking than on the rivers in Idaho. The Snake, the Salmon, the Payete, to name a few, endless stretches of whitewater interrupted by calm, reflective spots where one can catch one’s breath.
Basho’s near whitewater experience took place on the Mogami River during his travels recorded in the travelogue Oku no Hosomichi. The trip was almost halfway in on his journey into Japan’s northern interior, taking place at the point where Basho and Sora, his companion, crossed from Japan’s eastern coast to the west coast. They had entered Yamagata province and tarried a bit.
At the Risshakuji Temple, Basho composed a well-known haiku about the sound of a cicada coming from deep within a boulder.
The weather then turned to rain and Basho and Sora waited it out at a place called Ōishida (a place on the river near Obanazawa). Basho ruminated on differing styles of haiku and how those at this distant way station on the river had nothing new to consider. Thus, Basho composed some lines as a lingering memory.
Note. Modern annotators say Basho arrived in Obanazawa on July 3rd and stayed there for eleven days.
Early in summer, a heavy rain, Gathering quickly, Mogami River
五月雨を . あつめて早し . 最上川 samidare o . atsume te hayashi . Mogamigawa — Matsuo Basho, Oku no Hosomichi, Summer 1689
Ever the tour guide, Basho mentioned the Goten (rocks in the river that look like stones in the game of Go) and Hayabusa (Falcon, i.e. fast as a falcon) rapids are just two dangers on the river’s swift course. There is also a gorge called Mogamikyo (最上峡).
Samidare, an early Summer rain, or May showers.
It was the end of June, 2024. I imagine coinciding roughly with Basho’s trip down the Mogami. I was in Idaho admiring three rivers Snake, Salmon and Payette. I did not have my kayak with me on this trip and had to be content with imagining I was riding the rapids.
Long did I linger, Longingly looking, At rafters splashing on the water
— Bashō no yōna, end of June, 2024
My daughter and I rode the rather tame Cache la Poudre River in Ft. Collins, Colorado on inner tubes quickly bought at the downtown hardware store.
Floating on an inner tube My ass striking rocks in the river — Cache la Poudre River, Ft. Collins
— Bashō no yōna, end of June, 2024
The clouds were gone. The sun was overhead shining down. The trip was down river was hot. Basho once again mentions the Mogami. One assumes he arrived as the sun set.
a boiling hot sun, swallowed by the sea, — Mogami River
暑き日を . 海にいれたり . 最上川 atsuki hi o . umi ni iretari . Mogamigawa — Matsuo Basho, Oku no hosomichi, Summer 1689
Notes. atsuki, blistering, boiling hot; hi, sun; umi, meaning sea; iretari, to put in.
Since Matsuo Basho kept time by the Japanese lunar calendar, one can not know the exact dates, but that does not matter, it was hot, Matsushima was behind them. Matsuo Basho and Sora were headed inland.
It appears from a map of Basho’s stops along the Oku no Hosomichi that Hiraizumi was enough. Here Basho marveled on the glory of three generations of the Fujiwara clan that passed as if in a dream. And as Nanbu was still far to the north, the two decided to turn back and stay the night in Iwate, heading towards the Hot Springs of Narugo and some welcome relief.
Difficulties lie ahead.
Note. Written on the 17th day of the 5th lunar month.
尿前の関 Shitomae no Seki Shitomae Barrier
By now, Basho and Sora had traveled some 300 miles from Edo. Perhaps, they looked a little worse for the wear and tear, tired and bedraggled. At the Shitomae Barrier, the they were eyed suspiciously by the border guards at the security station. Perhaps, it was time to start thinking of going back, but not quite yet.
“The road to Nanbu [a distant town in today’s Aomori Prefecture, also spelled Nambu] is far, so we stayed the night in Iwate [both the name of a province and a town]. The next day, we passed by Ogurazaki and Mizu-no-ojima [on Japan’s National Route 47, a statue of Basho is on the highway, looking south], then to the hot springs at Narugo, headed for the Barrier at Shitomae, intending to cross into Dewa Province.
The road was hardly used and the guards at the checkpoint examined us suspiciously. We just managed to get through. Marching up the mountain, darkness began to fall, so when we saw a house belonging to the border guard. We asked for shelter. For three whole days, a wild storm raged, trapping us there among the dark and dreary mountains:”
蚤虱 . 馬の尿 . する枕もと nomi shirami uma no bari suru makuramoto
fleas and lice, (what’s more), a horse is pissing, beside my pillow — Matsuo Basho, Oku no Hosomichi, Summer, 1689
Let us settle the debate once and for all. Basho is said to have composed a famous haiku that goes:
松島や . ああ松島や . 松島や Matsushima ya . Ā Matsushima ya . Matsushima ya Ah, Matsushima, Oh, Matsushima, Matsushima, ah!
In an article written after the severe earthquake in 2016, Takayangi Katsuhiro writes, “… the popular comic poet Tawara-bo composed a similar poem (Matsushima ya sate Matsushimaya Matsushima ya), and this has been conveyed erroneously as a work by Basho.”
There is no mention of Matsushima in Oku-no-Hosomichi. This is unusual in as much as Basho comments in the Prologue that he had been “dreaming of the full moon rising over the islands of Matsushima.”
“Why, then, did he not mention it in any of his haiku poems?” Katsuhiro asks. The answer is perhaps that of the Tao de Ching. Beauty is the word, but the word does not convey the feeling of each individual who takes in the beauty. Beauty is ineffable. Thus, one who speaks does not know, one who knows the beauty of Matsushima doesn’t speak.
It was by modern count, the 21st station on the journey. It followed Shiogama, on the coast just past Sendai. Today, boasting all manner of seafood. Basho’s description of Matsushima takes on the air of a travelogue, which the book Oku no Hosomichi was intended, in part, to be.
“Islands upon island, islands are joined to islands, looking exactly like parents walking hand in hand with them. Pine trees are of the brightest green, their exquisite branches, bent by the constantly blowing wind. Indeed, the beauty of the scene can only be compared to the most divinely endowed feminine face, for who else could have created such beauty but Nature herself? My pen could hardly rise to the task of describing this divine creation.”
With no words of farewell, no regret, Basho says, “I left for Hiraizumi (back into the interior) on the twelfth (of June).” And, as sometimes happens, he lost his way.
A question for Zhungzi — are dreams better than reality?
Is the dream better than reality, or do we care about the truth?
All of this reminding me of the Demosthenes’ saying, “One believes not in the truth, but in what one wants to believe.”
Source: Takayanagi Katsuhiro, “A Journey Along the Destroyed Oku no Hosomichi (Narrow Road to the Deep North),” 2016.
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