The Long Awaited Answer - Reviewing Eiji Yoshikawa's "Musashi"; Book VII: The Perfect Light

Feb 19, 2025

At long last, we come to the end. It’s a little hard to believe in a strange way.

I’ve been slowly reading through Eiji Yoshikawa’s Musashi over roughly the last four months. One of, if not the most famed dramatized recounting of the life and times of the legendary swordsman, I’ve heard the novel described in numerous ways over the years. Detractors, few and far between as they were, would often snootily turn up their noses at the novel, stating that it was nothing more than piles of action heavy schlock. I have to imagine most of those detractors haven’t read the book, or that perhaps they never made it past Book I, otherwise they might know better.

I start by mentioning what the detractors had to say because that mirrors one of the ordeals Musashi dealt with in his own life. His decision to break out on his own in an effort to find “the Way,” as it’s frequently put in the book - this being the way of the sword, of course - through his own experiences, his own journey, his own encounters with people all across his life, often resulted in him being spoken ill of. While it’s undeniable that Yoshikawa did take numerous creative liberties with his retelling, for example it’s a widely accepted fact that Musashi’s final duel with the Yoshioka school did not result in him slaying all of the seventy men who arrived to face him, and it’s entirely likely that some of the criticisms Musashi received in his life were exaggerated to improve the story, it’s nonetheless true that he was often criticized for the approaches he took to life, swordsmanship, and Zen in his day.

Yet is this not to be expected of any prominent historical figure? As an American, I often heard stories of our presidents and founding fathers which thoroughly lionized them. Some, such as Abraham Lincoln and Franklin Delano Roosevelt, are so thoroughly lionized that even minor critiques of them are often handwaved off by supporters as conspiratorial lies. The same is true of the inverse when it comes to presidential figures whom our history classes have decided are firmly in the wrong or wholly incompetent, such as Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, and George Bush Sr. Nuance has a tendency to go out the window when it comes to speaking of historical figures, and it’s not hard to understand why that happens when you take the time to study that pattern. For those who understand this, Rome is quite infamous for the manner in which her writers and orators would praise certain leaders and politicians, condemn others, and then later be revealed as sycophants for those whom they praised and/or rivals of those who they demonized.

Musashi most certainly experienced some of this in his own life, as did his greatest and most competent rival, Sasaki Kojiro. Both men were often lauded by those who loved and revered them, and disdained by those who viewed them as enemies or obstacles. Whether or not the balance of positive public opinion genuinely was weighted more in favor of Kojiro over Musashi in their time as it is in the novel, I can’t say. However, I have no doubts that the kernel of truth Yoshikawa drew on for this aspect of his story is massive, for that sort of tribal behavior is natural to us humans.

I focus on this aspect of Musashi not just because it’s one of the focuses of Book VII: The Perfect Light, but also because it reflects one of the central themes of the entire book. As I did with Book VI, I took a little time before writing this to research what the idea of “perfect light” represents within Zen Buddhism. Light is representative of the mental activity of a living being. The more pure one’s state of mind, the more replete with the light of the universe it is thought to be. That purity of mind, that oneness with the universe, is something which both Musashi and Kojiro achieve when the time of their long awaited duel at last comes.

As you can imagine, Book VII ties up many of the story’s loose ends. Matahachi, Akemi, Otsu, Osugi, Jotaro, Iori, and numerous other friends and acquaintances of Musashi, all find their stories reach conclusions which tie directly into the central theme of Book VII, just as has been the case for every other Book before it.

Normally, this is the point at which I’d start digging into examples to show exactly what I mean by this. I’m not going to do that this time around. Given that this is the final section of the novel, it feels wrong for me to lay out even the more limited style of spoilers I’ve given in previous portions of my review. Yes, readers, I once more find myself in a situation very similar to the one I was in upon finishing James Fenimoore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans last summer.

This is a book that I believe most folks would benefit from reading. It’s a twentieth century classic that is deservedly both a cultural touchstone for the Japanese people and a well written and thoughtful drama replete with lessons that people of any age, but men in particular, can draw wonderful insights from. When speaking with him on the subject, Joe of

The Brothers Krynn

, who I’ve now frequently collaborated with at this point, described Musashi as Japan’s Gone with the Wind, but focused on the way of the samurai. Part of me feels that this is apt, while another part of me feels that, in a number of ways, Musashi is rather surprisingly reminiscent to me of The Last of the Mohicans, though there are undoubtedly distinct differences between the two stories.

When I finished reading the book earlier this morning, (at the time of writing) I contemplated on the events leading up to Musashi’s duel with Sasaki Kojiro. By this point in their lives, both men were nearing thirty and had established great names for themselves. Kojiro had begun going by Ganryu, a name he took after the style of swordsmanship he developed, which itself was a name taken from the river he used to live near as a boy. Once again, we are shown another way in which he mirrors Takezo, who took the name Miyamoto Musashi on Takuan’s suggestion because those names both held deeper meanings in his life and were based on the regions in which he lived. (That being said, Musashi was also convenient as it was a different way of pronouncing the characters that made up his boyhood name of Takezo.)

Both men are well regarded by their peers, and oft criticized by their rivals.

Both men are rightly recognized for their skills in swordsmanship and the way in which they would come to carry themselves, aspects that would become the sources both of their praise, and their criticism.

In the end, both men carved out their own paths in life, doing so with a certain flair and dedication unique to each of them. From the foppish, arrogant, and often cruel young man he was, Kojiro found in himself a more patient and stately figure in his transition to Ganryu. And from the brutish, savage, boorish oaf and bully of a boy he was, Takezo would find in himself a learned, respectful, and honorable human as he traveled Japan to learn and grow as Musashi.

Sitting down to write this final portion of the review, I wasn’t sure at all how it was going to turn out. I debated a great deal with how deep I wanted to dig into the material I’d read through, and whether or not I should do so openly as I had before. Ultimately, I decided against this, as my goal is once again to encourage people to pick up the book and find out for themselves how it ends. Because of that, the end result is a relatively short review compared to many of the others.

One cannot say the same for the reach this story has. In Musashi, Eiji Yoshikawa has found and given us an enduring masterpiece. Upon reading this book, most fans of Japanese media will likely see hands of Yoshikawa and Musashi resting upon the shoulders of many of the stories, shows, animations, and games they’ve become so fond of over the years. Reading the book is all one needs to do to see that the reasons for this are self evident.

Those of you who read my reviews will know that I’ve only ever given this rating once before. Upon finishing the book and reflecting on what I’ve read, I rate Eiji Yoshikawa’s Musashi as:
Avoid It | Discount Bin | Tough Sell | Flawed Fun | Great Read | Must Own

My first novella, In the Giant’s Shadow, is available for purchase! Lured to the sleepy farming community of Jötungatt by a mysterious white raven, Gaiur the Valdunite soon finds herself caught in a strange conspiracy of ritual murder and very real nightmares.

Purchase it in hardback, paperback, or digital on Amazon now:

Tales of Calamity and Triumph

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