Why Do Japanese Swords Move People?

— Why do people lose track of time when standing before a single Japanese sword?

Have you ever held an authentic Japanese sword in your hands?

By "an authentic Japanese sword," I do not mean an imitation made in China, Southeast Asia, or elsewhere.

I mean a sword forged in Japan, preserved as a Japanese sword through to the present day, and whose jigane and hamon are properly revealed through appropriate polishing.

Today, countless sword-like objects modeled after Japanese swords are sold around the world. Even among swords traditionally made in Japan, many remain covered with rust or polishing scratches, preventing the true beauty of the jigane and hamon from being fully revealed. As a result, many people have formed their impression of what a Japanese sword is without ever experiencing an authentic example.

There is scenery within an authentic Japanese sword that cannot be conveyed through photographs.

There is brilliance that cannot be captured in videos.

There is an atmosphere that cannot be felt through a display case.

Only when you hold one in your own hands and observe it as you move it through the light does another world begin to reveal itself.

If you have ever held an authentic Japanese sword, try to remember.

Have you ever become so absorbed that you lost track of time?

Have you ever found yourself changing the angle of the light and looking at it over and over again?

Have you ever thought, "I've seen enough," only to find yourself wanting to look once more?

Have you ever felt your mind become calm, or your heart deeply moved, without really knowing why?

Over the years, I have studied, polished, and looked closely at countless Japanese swords. Even today, whenever I stand before a single blade, I sometimes lose track of time.

The swords that attract me are those in which many different and layered elements come together in harmony.

The overall shape. The jigane. The hamon. Utsuri. Chikei. The nioiguchi.
And the polish that brings all of these elements together.

Rather than each element asserting itself independently, they combine to form a single landscape. Focus on one area, and you discover distinctive characteristics and subtle qualities. Look at the sword as a whole, and it becomes ambiguous and abstract, while still carrying a sense of tension.

Such a sword cannot be fully appreciated with a single viewing.

Each time you look at it, it reveals a different expression.
Each time, you discover something new.
Before you realize it, you have forgotten the passage of time.
You simply continue looking at the blade.

Your mind becomes calm, and you find yourself completely absorbed.
I have encountered many swords like this.

And every time, I ask myself the same question.

Why do Japanese swords move people so deeply?

Some people may be drawn to the beauty of the overall shape.
Some may become absorbed in the landscape of the jigane.
Others may be captivated by the brilliance of the hamon.
Some may find themselves reflecting on the centuries of history the blade has witnessed.
Some may appreciate its functional beauty, while others may find value in its imperfections.
Some may imagine the historical figures who once carried it.
Others may be moved by the thought of the countless unnamed people who carefully preserved it through the generations.

It may once have taken a life.
It may once have protected one.

Even when looking at the very same sword, what each person sees and feels will surely differ according to their own sensitivity, knowledge, and emotions.

Through this series, I hope to put into words, as faithfully as I can, what I see and what I feel whenever I stand before a single Japanese sword.

Sometimes I will write about the beauty of a sword's shape.
Sometimes I will focus on the landscape found within the jigane and its surface grain.
Sometimes I will consider the beauty created by the hamon, nioiguchi, and utsuri.

I will also discuss the history surrounding Japanese swords, the origins and development of the different traditions of swordsmithing, and the role that sword polishing plays.

My hope is that this series will deepen your enjoyment of Japanese swords and allow you to see aspects of a single blade that may have gone unnoticed before.

As I am writing from Japan, I would be delighted to hear your questions and thoughts.
And if you ever have the opportunity to hold an authentic Japanese sword, take your time.

Raise it into the light and study it carefully.

Perhaps, before you realize it, you will lose track of time and encounter a sword that makes you feel, "I could look at this forever."

If this series leads you to experience an authentic Japanese sword, and if that one blade moves your heart, nothing would make me happier.