Buddha covers the life of Siddhārtha Gautama, from birth to death, as he matures from a small, sickly child, terrified of his own mortality, to the wise, superhumanly patient spiritual leader known worldwide as the Buddha. When Siddhārtha is a child, his spiritual journey is inspired less by a drive to change the world than a more selfish desire to escape his own inevitable death. He's wise and willing to work hard, but also noticeably more afraid of the physical ordeals that so many other ascetics practically flock to. He does grow wiser and stronger over time, and eventually develops the inner-courage to face death and torture without flinching, but there are still the occasional moments of humanity--a bit of grief, or a bout of self-doubt--that help keep him grounded in the land of humans.Interestingly, although Buddha is the titular character, he isn't actually born until about halfway through the first volume, and regularly shifts into and out of the background from then on. A lot of time is spent on a changing cast of both historical and fictional characters, all of them well-developed. Sympathetic children, pushed too far, become absolute bastards with whiplash-inducing speed, while murderous tyrants become some of the Buddha's closest allies. I didn't realize just how vital the large cast was until, one day, I was discussing the book with with my dad, who had not read it but was curious.
"But the book is about the Buddha, and not Buddhism, right?" he said.
And then it hit me--Buddha is about Buddhism. This is not just a book about one man, or even one great man--it's a book about the world and the people and the lives that the great man has touched. This book is telling Buddha's story not just through his own life, but through his legacy.
And Tezuka's drawings, though simple and cartoony, are powerful. I'm not just talking about his backgrounds (which are beautiful) or his animals (which are so life-like you almost want to reach into the page and pet them) but his human characters. Anime and manga--and not all anime and manga, of course, but quite a lot of it--can't always be taken literally; how characters are drawn often reflects thoughts or emotions rather than physical realities. Characters' shapes can shift during moments of aggravation, heads growing with rage while the rest of their bodies shrink. Tezuka occasionally uses this "super-deformed" gag art-style as well--he may have invented it, for all I know--but he doesn't rely on it: his ability to convey emotions subtly and realistically is equally effective. If you ever read the book, look at the Buddha's face in volume eight, while he's worrying that all his work has been in vain. Not the background, but just Buddha's face. The genuine humanity feels like a punch to the throat.
And then there's the impressive variety of genres. Readers of Buddha can find almost everything, from action to romance to tragedy to political fiction to fable to parable to science fiction to fantasy and back again. I'm talking about a book that chronicles the life of one of the most important religious figures of the known world, and includes scatological humour and gags where characters smash through their own comic panels. Not just once, but repeatedly. One ascetic, whose entire philosophy revolves around doubt, confronts Osamu Tezuka himself to express skepticism of the entire manga, and suggest that Tezuka himself may, in fact, be a rotten pumpkin (something that Tezuka himself then confirms to be true).
This is like the Buddhist version of Life of Brian, and it never feels one bit blasphemous. Instead, Buddha's beliefs (focusing on the philosophical over the spiritual) are conveyed sincerely, through plot and through character as well as through speech. The most important to Buddha's own character arc is probably the one about not fearing the unchangeable, though the interconnectedness of all life, and the idea that all animals are just as important as humans, all come up repeatedly. The most memorable scene that conveys these ideas does not involve Buddha himself but (and the rest of this paragraph is kind of a spoiler, so beware) the child prophet, Asaji ("played" by Hosuke Sharaku from Tezuka's The Three-Eyed One, in the same way that Ralph the Wolf is "played" by Wile E. Coyote). This brave fellow allows himself to be torn to pieces by a family of wolves so that the cubs won't starve. (As a side note, I thought it was brilliant how Tezuka drew this incident. The image of the wolves actually mutilating Asaji are absolutely terrifying, but there's one panel right after, where the parents are feeding their pups, that looks disturbingly serene. It's as if, for one instant, Tezuka is showing things from the perspective of the wolves.) As a prophet, Asaji foresaw his death years before, but never showed fear, even in the hours leading up to it. Tezuka didn't invent this whole story himself--a previous carnation of the Buddha, named Prince Sattva, made a similar sacrifice for a tigress and her cubs--but it epitomizes many of the Buddhist concepts that this manga favours.
And then there's the impressive variety of genres. Readers of Buddha can find almost everything, from action to romance to tragedy to political fiction to fable to parable to science fiction to fantasy and back again. I'm talking about a book that chronicles the life of one of the most important religious figures of the known world, and includes scatological humour and gags where characters smash through their own comic panels. Not just once, but repeatedly. One ascetic, whose entire philosophy revolves around doubt, confronts Osamu Tezuka himself to express skepticism of the entire manga, and suggest that Tezuka himself may, in fact, be a rotten pumpkin (something that Tezuka himself then confirms to be true).
This is like the Buddhist version of Life of Brian, and it never feels one bit blasphemous. Instead, Buddha's beliefs (focusing on the philosophical over the spiritual) are conveyed sincerely, through plot and through character as well as through speech. The most important to Buddha's own character arc is probably the one about not fearing the unchangeable, though the interconnectedness of all life, and the idea that all animals are just as important as humans, all come up repeatedly. The most memorable scene that conveys these ideas does not involve Buddha himself but (and the rest of this paragraph is kind of a spoiler, so beware) the child prophet, Asaji ("played" by Hosuke Sharaku from Tezuka's The Three-Eyed One, in the same way that Ralph the Wolf is "played" by Wile E. Coyote). This brave fellow allows himself to be torn to pieces by a family of wolves so that the cubs won't starve. (As a side note, I thought it was brilliant how Tezuka drew this incident. The image of the wolves actually mutilating Asaji are absolutely terrifying, but there's one panel right after, where the parents are feeding their pups, that looks disturbingly serene. It's as if, for one instant, Tezuka is showing things from the perspective of the wolves.) As a prophet, Asaji foresaw his death years before, but never showed fear, even in the hours leading up to it. Tezuka didn't invent this whole story himself--a previous carnation of the Buddha, named Prince Sattva, made a similar sacrifice for a tigress and her cubs--but it epitomizes many of the Buddhist concepts that this manga favours.
I consider Buddha one of the greatest comic books, and possibly one of the greatest books, period, that I have ever read. Not just because of the power, the scope, the beauty, the entertainment, the characterization, or the philosophy, but because of all of them, and more. Despite all of the seemingly contradictory things this book tries to do, it succeeds. The Buddha was one of the most important men who ever lived, and making any work of art that lives up to his legacy would be a daunting task even for the best. Fortunately, that's just what Tezuka was--whatever your personal opinion on manga or even on comic books, there is no denying that Tezuka was a master of his craft.
