Zen and the Birds of Appetite by Thomas Merton and D. T. Suzuki is of a similar vein.
Marvelous. Here's part of a review:
Merton quotes D.T. Suzuki: "Zen always aims at grasping the central fact of life, which can never be brought to the dissecting table of the intellect"; and "Zen must be seized with bare hands, with no gloves on." No wonder Merton's reverence for Zen, for these are his own ideas of Christian monasticism. With his illuminating mind in full stride, and his interventions keen as crystal, if he went no deeper than to make an apparent synthesis, it would be enough. But Merton strives for farther fields, finds and feeds them, and not surprisingly leaves them flourishing. He leaps wholly into a personal embodiment of Zen and its spiritual complexities, and ends restoring his own monastic experience. The essay 'Zen in Japanese Art' pays loving homage to the classic spirit of Daisetz Suzuki's seminal 'Zen and Japanese Culture', but lives and breathes on its own. In its simple three and a half pages, Merton weaves the aesthetic ideas of Zen philosopher Kitaro Nishida, makes the case that Zen and Zen art are the exact opposite of Sartre's 'pessimistic nihilism,' and in a single amazing paragraph toward the end, beautifully finds in the formal "tea ceremony" a respect and harmony consistent with the simplicity of twelfth-century Cistercian architecture at Fontenay or Le Thoronet. But no idle intellectual excursions invade here; again and again Merton draws everything back to the Christ sought in the apophatic tradition with a faithfulness that exhudes an almost excruciating surfeit of spiritual understanding. Finding St Gregory's "No one gets so much of God as the man who is thoroughly dead" 'lying next' to Bunan Zenji's "While alive, be dead, thoroughly dead-- All is good then, whatever you may do", Merton turns a light on centuries of Christian ascetic experience with one true, bold stroke. Birds of Appetite is strewn with page after page not of ideas only, but wisdom. He responds to D.T. Suzuki's exquisite essay 'Innocence and Knowledge' (included in the book) with 'The Recovery of Paradise', arguing that the Desert Fathers sought the emptiness and innocence of Adam and Eve in Eden, invoking along the way John of the Cross, and making one of Dostoevsky's "saints," the Staretz Zosima, serve as antagonist throughout the essay. Merton notes "there is a dimension where the bottom drops out of the world of factuality and of the ordinary," an observation no doubt honed in the solitude of the hermitage, up the mountain above Gethsemane Abbey. He adds, "it might be good to open our eyes and see."
I found it balanced; neither pro nor con, but open examination.