It is well known that many sutras express a desire to be copied with the intention of securing their own preservation. To reproduce the word of the Buddha is an act that can engender yet more felicitous acts and, as such, accumulates merit; and the rewards are undoubtedly greater, the greater the sacrifice of time, effort and expense in such an enterprise. The “jeweled pagoda mandalas” from twelfth-century Japan that O'Neal investigates in this book are one extreme example of the lengths to which one might go to achieve such merit. Unfortunately not many examples survive. In fact, only three complete sets remain: two transcriptions of the Lotus Sutra, at Ryūhonji in Kyoto, and the Tanzan Shrine in Nara; and one transcription of the Sutra of Golden Light at Chūsonji in Hiraizumi. Three other isolated examples have been found, presumably belonging to sets that have been lost.

O'Neal has decided to call these artistic products “jeweled pagoda mandalas” after Miya Tsugio's book Kinji hōtō mandara of 1976, although, as she points out (p. 16), this is not without its problems. First, whereas the pagodas in these paintings are multi-storied, a hōtō is a one-storied pagoda/stupa of a particular shape, and specifically refers to the eleventh chapter of the Lotus Sutra; second, to use the term “mandala” in this context is to accept the Japanese habit of using this term extremely loosely to refer to a large range of paintings that have little to do with the “classic” mandalas of esoteric Buddhism. Given that the objects are Japanese, there is probably nothing that can be done about this, but it is unfortunate that such nomenclature actually omits to mention what really makes them fascinating. These paintings have been created by taking the text of the sutra and fashioning it into the shape of a tall pagoda, transforming a body of text into an image (or diagram) while at the same time somehow retaining the textuality of which it consists. On the one hand, to see the pagoda is to lose sight of the text, which consists of tiny characters arranged in somewhat haphazard fashion, sometimes running horizontally, sometimes transversally, almost impossible to follow; one knows that the text is there but one cannot “see” it. On the other hand, to attempt to read the characters sequentially as text, one is forced not only to approach so closely as to lose sight of the whole image, but also to perform an act of decoding of time-consuming dexterity. These mandalas were obviously not designed to be “read” in the normal sense of that term.

O'Neal discusses in some detail the problems of perception and performance to which such images give rise. She then proceeds to investigate the historical background of their production, which is perforce opaque, although less so in the case of Chūsonji: the choice of the Sutra of Golden Light is particularly revealing in the context of the quasi-imperial designs of the Ōshū Fujiwara that have been so well documented in Mimi Yiengpruksawan's Hiraizumi. We then move to a discussion of possible antecedents in the form of shorter, less complex examples from Dunhuang, and other forms of sutra (re)production that involve decoration both as illustration and applied to each character. Important here is how Japanese Buddhists made much use of the concept of embellishment (shōgon) as itself productive of merit. These images are sumptuously produced, written in gold ink on indigo paper of the highest quality, and surrounded by a whole series of small vignettes that refer to stories and events within the sutra itself. The effect is overwhelming as one is simultaneously drawn forwards to concentrate on the detail and backwards to see the design. O'Neal ends by investigating and illustrating the underlying belief that a sutra in written form was, in and of itself, an embodiment of the dharmakāya, interpreted as both the body of the Buddha and the body of the teachings.

Since much of the information contained in this book is in the service of giving these diagrams the necessary context, not all of it is new, but it is well-chosen, wide-ranging, pertinent, and rewards careful reading. The book itself is beautifully produced, containing a large number of full-colour illustrations. I have only two observations of a somewhat critical nature, and neither of them are aimed at the author. First, the editorial decision to have endnotes rather than footnotes is incomprehensible in an academic book of this nature and drove this particular reviewer nuts. Second, the style has a tendency to be unduly repetitive, particularly in the more theoretical sections; unfortunately this seems to be an endemic problem now that most publishers have dispensed with the services of a properly trained copyeditor.