Thanks for this exceptionally valuable posting, Lee. Your comments expand my already considerable appreciation of Peter’s superb haiku and reaffirm much of what I believe about the astonishing power of haiku.

What a wonderful haiku. The last line reminds me of a line in one of Galway Kinnell’s poems “When One Has Lived a Long Time Alone” where he uses “is is is is is” also as a form of acceptance for what is and coming to terms with it. It made such an impression on me that it has become one of those literary guide posts for me in my life. Of course,
Galway Kinnell took a lot longer and used a great deal more words to convey that truth.
Thanks.

The “perfect haiku written in English”? This must be a different Lee Gurga than the haiku teacher who told us in “Haiku: A Poet’s Guide,” in 2003,
“Think in images rather than evaluations. Show, don’t tell, is the haiku way. Haiku approach the subjective through the objective.”

In this post, the transformative effect of “simply including the word ‘too’” is praised. What its inclusion actually does is simply anthropomorphize the mosquito (who is in fact far more likely to be insisting “I’m hungry” than “I am”). As the 2003 Lee Gurga pointed out, “We must distinguish between finding things in nature and projecting our feelings onto the world.”

The indulgent over-analysis and hyper-praise found at this weblog seem highly unlikely to broaden the audience of haiku, or to gain the respect of the broader poetry establishment for the genre. Gilding the haiku lily will probably repel more visitors than it will attract to our little frogpond.

All artforms advance through dialectic, such as we witness in this exchange. Objectivity is a target that can become a method, something easily taught and replicated and excluding other tendencies of J haiku. So a reaction has set in in some quarters, and now some go so far as to dismiss products of the objective method as “junk haiku”. The value of subjective coloration (which Basho, etc. had not excluded) is being explored by many both in practice & theory–and it’s no doubt a healthy development that will help keep the art fresh, unpredictable, *and* an art, not a mere formula. But the last word in favor of the merits of an objective approach, skillfully handled, has not yet been spoken, you can be sure. Every reaction breeds a counter-reaction.

We all advance individually through dialectic as well, which is what Emerson had in mind when he termed consistency a hobgoblin.

Peter’s haiku is daring, interesting, memorable. I was happy to see it spotlighted in this valuable series. And we should expect praise, as each poster is selecting a personal favorite. Myself, I like the enthusiasm, even a little provocative overreaching.

The idea of a “perfect haiku”, though, is probably a feu follet. No haiku can show us everything the art is capable of; each is just an instance, embodying certain possibilities and excluding others.

My 2c for the nonce.

P.S. A few classics by Basho, demonstrating subjective tendencies, to keep in mind:

amusing, then sad: the cormorant boats

even in Kyoto, I yearn for Kyoto–the cuckoo’s song

autumn deepens…my neighbor, how does he live?

sick on a journey–my dreams wander desolate moors

(my own “versions”)

Thanks for a thoughtful response to my comment, Allen. I agree that Peter has written some fine haiku. I’m not saying that this poem is not haiku, but I am questioning the conclusion that it is a fine example of haiku, much less perfect haiku. It ascribes to a mosquito a most unlikely thought, while demonstrating just how artificial and awkward a strict 5 – 7 – 5 syllable count can be.

Put me in the category of those who believe 1) that a genre needs to have some distinct style, form, technique or content — and, therefore, that removing all such limitations on haiku in the name of being new and fresh makes it less likely that haiku will be respected outside the haijin community, not more; 2) without a distinct form, technique or content, haiku will continue to be seen by the rest of the poetry establishment as taking far too little effort to be taken seriously; and 3) that the best haiku try to invoke the poet’s insight from the reader with sensory images (while leaving open other interpretations), rather than merely stating the insight — no matter how important that insight might be or who the poet is.

Basho wrote some poems with “subjective tendencies,” but we have no idea what he thought of the purpose or quality of those poems. Babe Ruth struck out more often than he hit homers; his every at bat was not an example of a technique to be followed.

Allan Burns’ use of “feu follet” reminds me of a poem by Tsubouchi Nenten tranlated by Richard Gilbert and Ito Yuki found here:

http://www.roadrunnerjournal.net/pages74/translation74.htm

in march/ amanatto/ u fu fu fu fu fu

Just a few follow-up responses, David:

Peter’s haiku needn’t be read as genuinely anthropomorphizing the mosquito. I read it less literally, more as a revelation on the part of the poet/observer of the mosquito’s will to live, something it does indeed share with us all. It’s this existential quality (born out of what otherwise might be simply a trivially annoying moment) that makes it compelling, I think. I’m really just restating Lee’s original insight, and he also makes some terrific points about indirection, repetition, and sound in the haiku, so I won’t repeat those–just direct readers back to the original analysis.

You’ve defined a difference between our conception of haiku. I think flexibility is a strength here. I’ve claimed before that rules are for games whereas haiku is an artform. We can speak of norms, conventions, tendencies, practices–but probably no absolute requirements (unless we are willing to ditch lots of classics from both J & E-l haiku) beyond construction from words and brevity.

So much modern art has broken what were regarded as “rules” in the past in genuinely liberating ways–the music of Debussy and those who followed in his wake; the paintings of the impressionists and then the cubists and abstractionists; the free verse of the modern French school and of Pound, Eliot, WCW, et al. Breaking the “rules” almost became a prerequisite for being taken seriously. And in some sense this liberation paradoxically makes things harder. Putting it another way–the number of individuals who have genuinely distinguished themselves in “modern art” is pretty small because the burden of creative invention is heavy.

Likewise, much modern J haiku has broken with the conventions of the past–the free-form (or jiyuritsu) haiku of Santoka and others that discarded the 5-7-5 metrical count; season-less (or muki) haiku; and all the various experiments of gendai (modern) haiku, including surrealism and many other techniques.

As for the Basho haiku I cited, I don’t think they’re usually regarded as strikeouts; they’re among his most celebrated and most frequently translated. The last one is usually regarded as his jisei (death poem).

Just continuing the conversation…

on the topics of broadening the audience & haiku gaining
more recognition & respect as a “poetry” i have two suggestions…

1. despite the praise, analysis, criticism and
intellectualization that haiku practitioners may
afford each other, the perception of haiku beyond
haiku is that the “genre” (all schools and styles)
is a kind of paint by number poetry.

one way to counter that perception (if indeed
there’s a genuine interest in doing so)is by
submitting haiku to journals and magazines that lie
beyond the well worn circuit. english language haiku
practitioners need to challenge themselves by
exporting the product, yes, even at the risk of
rejection. r. beary’s success last year &
cor v’s success in having a major publishing house
publish several anthologies of haiku,are great
examples of haiku practitioners challenging
themselves and by their success, that misperception.

2. drop haiku off at literary blogs. you know, visit,
smash the glass, and leave your calling card…

dense fog
the revolution has to start
everywhere

first light
crows shatter the confines
of their color

ed markowski

Thoughts following ed markowski—
First, it is very good to hear your voice in Troutswirl, ed. I may get a sense of someone’s “haiku voice”, but don’t often get to hear their prose or conversational voice. So, a treat. And only a beginning, I hope.

You bring up something important. Readers may know of Philip Rowland’s similar concerns around breaking out of the confines of the “well worn circuit” of haiku publications can be found here:

http://www.modernhaiku.org/essays/RowlandFromHaikuToShortPoem.html

I have a lot of thoughts about this, but I’ll limit myself to a few here. First, a suggestion. For anyone wishing to send their haiku out beyond the circuit, it is important to do what the editors typically request in their guidelines: study some issues of the magazine first. If the editor and the poems he/she publishes indicate a preference for work which has some affinity with what you do, okay. In the Poet’s Market there are a number of listings which stipulate “no haiku”. These listings are for “literary” magazines and many editors likely do not consider haiku as literature, which is understandable if one considers what they have probably been exposed to. I doubt that the editors of these publications read even one word of these haiku before reaching for the rejection slip. But I could ask this question: do you think of haiku as a literary pursuit?

The appreciation of haiku requires a certain mindspace, a kind of listening and engagement which is often different than that required for other kinds of poetry. Even a poem by Billy Collins (who has written and seems to value haiku) which has the qualities of affability, attention to detail, of being plain spoken and entertaining, requires a different approach and to follow a poem of his with a haiku would require a shift that some might find difficult. There are poets, of course, whose work might be enhanced by juxtaposition with haiku: WS Merwin, Jane Hirshfield, Lorine Niedecker, some of Linda Gregg, Robert Bly, Robert Hass…

I think it would be helpful, and challenging no doubt, for many of us to read poets out of our zone. I would say that prior even to the challenge of *submitting* outside the circuit is the importance of the challenge of *reading* outside the circuit, and allowing a larger field of influence.

I can foresee a day when Poetry, which since its huge endowment several years ago has, through its own foundation and magazine expanded into the, shall I say, people’s poetry source, will recognize the significance of Elh and devote some space to it. I have thought about writing to them to ask if they might consider this—what would they require, what would it take. Well, I guess I *will* do this when my plate is a little clearer. I would also like to ask a number of “established” poets who have shown some interest in haiku what there current thoughts are—do they read Modern Haiku, Roadrunner, etc When I have something to report, I will.

Another approach could be inaugurating a publication which solicits a wide range of poetry and in which short poems including haiku would be accepted and mutually enhancing. It would be wonderful to see some of the poets mentioned above and others alongside the best haiku and tanka poets. Even 2 or 3 haiku per issue.

A quick word on something else you mention ed—the “praise, analysis, criticism and_intellectualization that haiku practitioners may afford each other”—my sense is that while Elh haiku itself is no longer in its infancy, criticism of it is. We may be a ways off from the time when someone outside the community recognizes that there is at least a trickle of very clean water coming from it which may benefit the broader community of poetry, but what you and Philip Rowland and others are proposing may bring us closer to that day. Until then, we have to do our best to write clear, honest criticism which is both discriminating and broad-minded. To do this may call into question what we mean by “community” and even to risk feeling alienated. But that’s another discussion.