. . . 7th Sailing . . .
By Peter Yovu
What Is Your Response to Gendai Haiku?
This “Sailing” will take many of us (I include myself) out of our comfort zone and into exotic waters. The word gendai itself may be enough to send ripples through our haiku foundations, but it simply means “modern.” Just as 20th century Western poetry went through numerous trials and transformations, so did 20th century Japanese haiku. These changes, in each case, were both a response to the old (not necessarily a rejection of it) and a willingness to meet the provocations of a challenging new era, which many felt demanded a new poetry, a revitalized haiku.
In his review of The Haiku Universe for the 21st Century ["Reboot"] (MH 40.3), Scott Metz quotes Masaoka Shiki: “Haiku advances . . . only when it departs from the traditional style.” I am not scholar enough to surmise how far Shiki would have been willing to take this departure, but I will guess that he would have been surprised, at the least, to discover the directions that his disciples and those who followed would take. Certainly a departure from realism, as various movements embraced subjectivity, politics, surrealism, feminism, disjunction and other literary techniques rarely encountered before. Some schools promoted the writing of haiku without kigo, a movement many writers in the West have also explored.
Here are some examples. The first will be familiar to readers of Troutswirl:
like squids
bank clerks are fluorescent
from the morning
—Kaneko Tōta (trans. Makoto Ueda)
autumn nightfall
the skeleton of a huge fish
is drawn out to sea
—Saito Sanki (trans. by Gendai Haiku Kyokai)
in front of the scarlet mushroom
my comb slips off
—Yagi Mikajo
(trans. by Richard Gilbert)
from the sight
of the man who was killed
we also vanished
—Murio Suzuki (trans. by Gendai Haiku Kyokai)
Illness in one eye:
I’m walking
like a goldfish
—Ban’ya Natsuishi
(trans. by Ban’ya Natsuishi & Jack Galmitz)
The Gendai Haiku Kyokai (Modern Haiku Association) was founded in 1947. By 1961, I learn from Scott’s review, it was open to “all kinds of haiku styles, including the traditional style . . . nonseasonal haiku and free form.” This, to a greater or lesser extent, is a policy followed by several of our better known publications, not excluding Modern Haiku and Frogpond, but especially Roadrunner and, now, with its haiku section edited by Richard Gilbert, Simply Haiku. Both champion the exploration of new directions in haiku, not necessarily centered on gendai, but certainly encouraged by it.
So, what is your response to this new presence in our lives?
You may recall that Christopher White posted a question (the question, in fact, that prompted me to launch this Sailing) which I will alter slightly to suit our purposes here: “A question I have is whether people feel that gendai haiku contain the standard Japanese aesthetic values or not. I ask this not in order to lay judgment on it—quite the opposite in fact: I’m interested in seeing what it has to say about haiku.”
As always, a number of questions arise from within these central questions. How useful is a study of, or at least exposure to, gendai haiku for you? In what ways? Do you seek new directions for your writing and reading? Is it important to continue looking to Japan for inspiration and education? (I hope to broaden this question of influence in a future Sailing).
It is a concern that some readers, believing they have not had enough exposure to modern Japanese haiku, will feel left out of this discussion. For those to whom it is new, (I include myself), I hope this Sailing will serve as an entry point, and offer directions for further exploration. For this reason, I am especially hopeful that readers who have more familiarity will present examples of work which they feel is significant, educational, or intriguing.
Three excellent sources of information, with many examples of gendai, can be found here:
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Sails is a section of troutswirl that is devoted to presenting questions for discussion and debate on the nature and possibilities of haiku. Sails is overseen by Peter Yovu. For an introduction to this section, see Sails.
{ 106 comments }
← Previous Comments
Next Comments →
Allan, Your comment: “But the more haiku loses its traditional philosophical moorings, the more it risks lapsing into triviality and lists of ‘rules’….”
This is something I’ve felt about all poetry…and have come to feel in my own life that understanding that the word is holy…there is a holy quality about words themselves …is vital to any poetry. In religion, in philosophy, we come to understand the power of these things as we see and examine the influences on our lives.
I’m so glad you brought this up becaused it is something I have difficulty explaining to others without it becoming a tool used against itself where someone appoints themselves as the “authority” to pass on what is holy and what is not. It’s the very same problem all religions have…all philosophies have…all literature has…all cultures have. So I tread carefully here… I’m just glad for gatherings like this where we can all bring these up for discussion.
“…several classical writers of haiku (in Japan) practiced Zen Buddhism…but that didn’t make haiku a Zen Buddhist practice.”
I agree so far as that goes, although there’s of course much more to be said. First, a number of the major J haiku poets were Pure Land Buddhists (e.g., Chiyo-ni, Buson, and Issa). So it would be safe to say the primary affiliation of classic haiku is with Buddhism, in general, rather than with Zen, in particular.
Buddhism constitutes a major part of the cultural background from which haiku emerged, and I believe it would have taken a quite different form but for that background. Among other things, Buddhism has helped give haiku its philosophical depth. In terms of technique and subjects, haiku was also definitely influenced in significant ways by the work of pre-haiku Buddhist poets such as Wang Wei and Saigyō, whose work tends to be imagistic, nature-oriented, and self-effacing.
Of course, one does not need to practice Buddhism in order to write haiku. But the more haiku loses its traditional philosophical moorings, the more it risks lapsing into triviality and lists of “rules” (ossification of the masters’ practice sans the “spirit”)—and so needs to find other means of achieving “depth”.
You get a sense of the profound connection between Buddhism and haiku, for the classic poets, from passages such as these:
“Like Bashō, who espoused haiku as a Way, or a life’s path (haikai no michi), and who also wrote his best haiku in his later years after meditating in a Zen temple for ten years, Chiyo-ni’s best haiku were written in her later years after becoming a nun and devoting her life to Buddhism and haiku” (Patricia Donegan and Yoshie Ishibashi, Chiyo-ni: Woman Haiku Master, pg. 41)
“The basic tenet of Buddhism, that of mujō, or impermanence, is naturally reflected in most haiku, Chiyo-ni’s as well. This follows Bashō’s edict on the importance of becoming one with nature and capturing its fleeting quality” (ibid, pg. 47).
“Roughly ninety percent of [Chiyo-ni's] haiku are about things in nature rather than the social realm. This kind of haiku practice emphasizing seeing things clearly, becoming one with nature, and living the Way of Haiku co-emerged with her Buddhist practice” (ibid, pg. 78).
Buson once wrote: “Haikai values a verse that detaches itself from the mundane while using a language that is mundane. Making use of the mundane while being detached from it—such an art of detachment is very difficult to put into practice. ‘Listen to the sound of one hand clapping,’ said a certain Zen monk. In those words lies the Zen of haikai as well as the art of detachment from the mundane” (Makoto Ueda, The Path of Flowering Thorn: The Life and Poetry of Yosa Buson, pg. 66).
Just a very few quick exs.
I realize this discussion is tangential to the subject of gendai, but it’s important and worth having. To tie it in more clearly: Gendai, I would say, is one form “non-Buddhist” haiku can take and has taken. I think non-Buddhist poets in the West will be receptive to this direction because Buddhist-informed poetic techniques (which to date have tended to dominate elh, even when written by non-Buddhists) come to seem inadequate and even hollow or cliched when separated from Buddhist practice and philosophy. That’s a big part of what’s been happening to our haiku recently, I feel.
A few years ago I heard a speaker (whose name I can’t remember, but it may have been Richard von Sturmer) note that several classical writers of haiku (in Japan) practiced Zen Buddhism … but that didn’t make haiku a Zen Buddhist practice.
That single sentence answered a lot of questions about haiku all at once.
Mark asks, “Did Basho practise zen?”
from Makoto Ueda’s Bashō and His Interpreters: Selected Hokku with Commentary:
“Conveniently for Bashō, there was a Zen monk living in his new neighborhood. Butchō (1642–1716), head of a Zen temple in Hitachi Province (Ibaraki Prefecture), was temporarily staying in Fukagawa because of a lawsuit involving his parish. Bashō practiced Zen meditation under the monk’s guidance, although no record surviving today specifies when and where he did so. His commitment to Zen was a serious one, for he was later to recall ‘at one time I thought of confining myself within the doors of a monastery.’ Allusions to Zen are scattered through his poetry and other writings, even though it is sometimes difficult to tell whether they refer directly to Zen or are simply reflections of Japanese culture, which had assimilated Zen by Bashō’s time” (pg. 68).
Carmen Sterba writes: “it’s not easy for Japanese to know how much Blyth’s interpretations of haiku influenced Western poets or know that a good number of Western haiku poets are dedicated Buddhists and a large number feel something akin to Eastern philosophy.
It is my guess, that Ban’ya wrote the “Flying
Pope” series as a reaction towards haiku abroad that contain the expressions such as “laughing buddha.” ”
and Lorin Ford: “Just as we have absorbed Shakespeare and other great writers of the past, contemporary Japanese people will know their ‘greats’, but the poets will be engaging with ‘now’ as well as the tradition, and with all the questions and responses that poets worldwide have. Yet that doesn’t devalue the ‘zen-centred’ ELH, since much has been gained by the West in the C20 by finding expression for and confirmation of the ’still point of the turning world’.”
Constant reminders on this thread of how new ideas come from misunderstandings, imperfect translations, sporadic communications across cultural divides.
Did Basho practise zen? If so, his understanding would be different from ours, as would his understanding of haiku. Likewise, we are inspired by Shakespeare without ever fully understanding what he learned from his time and place. In our time, the literary tendancies of a Japanese college professor living in France and a Californian poet and zen practitioner will vary widely.
Recently published English-language haiku that we might consider “gendai” is often different from Japanese gendai haiku in ways hard to define. Do the differences derive from the influence of zen or a different understanding of the uses of surrealism and cuts? I appreciate being made aware of the questions even if they are unanswerable.
“Yet that doesn’t devalue the ‘zen-centred’ ELH . . .”
Lorin
Right, that is why it is necessary to explain to those who are dubious of the Zen connection in ELH. There is a great difference between haiku that is Zen inspired like Hackett’s and that which mimics old Japanese haiku. In addition, there are other influences from Shintoism, Confucianism and other sects of Buddhism. Basho was especially inspired by the simplicity of waka poet Saigyo who was a monk of the Shingon sect of Buddhism.
Correction:
I meant to state “Our knowledge of pre-modern haiku (before 1868) doesn’t (rather than does) prepare us to begin to understand “gendai haiku.”
Carmen, thank you for this timely post. I’m getting a sense now of possible bridges. .. ah, but I’ve not been to Japan and don’t read the language, so I rely very much on what you and others convey through your writing. A great thing about THF! Since I discovered it, I can hardly keep away and enjoy so much following these discussions. (and today was Boxing Day, here; there’s a party going on next door and it’s a perfect Summer night, but I keep coming back here!)
“Our knowledge of pre-modern haiku does prepare us to begin to understand “gendai haiku.” One good example is Ban’ya’s “Flying Pope” series. I have picked up on his consternation towards how Zen- centered much of international haiku seems to the Japanese.”
” It is my guess, that Ban’ya wrote the “Flying
Pope” series as a reaction towards haiku abroad that contain the expressions such as “laughing buddha.” Carmen
Just as we have absorbed Shakespeare and other great writers of the past, contemporary Japanese people will know their ‘greats’, but the poets will be engaging with ‘now’ as well as the tradition, and with all the questions and responses that poets worldwide have. Yet that doesn’t devalue the ‘zen-centred’ ELH, since much has been gained by the West in the C20 by finding expression for and confirmation of the ‘still point of the turning world’.
So much to learn! But the exchange is exhilarating.
Lorin
I just happily came upon this discussion. I have two points I’d like to comment on:
Peter Yovu:
“As regards gendai, many of us may feel like strangers in a strange land, a situation which pits us against ourselves, our received notions, beliefs and identifications.”
and Scott Metz
“. . . practice the modern in the grandeur of the old.”
from Kaneko Tōta
Recently I started my own haiku column in a Japanese-American newspaper and I’ve been thinking a lot about the beginning of the Haiku
Movement in the West. After watching Japan
change dramatically during the 31 years I lived
there and then returning back to America, I am concerned with articles and books about haiku in English as well as many of the presentations that are given at haiku meetings and haiku conferences around the world which are somewhat fixated on 17th century Japan that no longer exists. I don’t mean we should stop research on Basho or other masters. All I mean is we need to bring in new angles to old topics. And at conferences we can visit cultural places in those cities in addition to Japanese gardens.
Japan is such an eclectic country. There is hardly any art, literature, music, cuisine, fashion, or architecture that has stood still in Japan. The combinations are sometimes baffling even to the Japanese, but are continually fascinating and even dazzling. Nevertheless, there is a core of the traditional in what is most vibrant.
Our knowledge of pre-modern haiku does prepare us to begin to understand “gendai haiku.” One good example is Ban’ya’s “Flying Pope” series. I have picked up on his consternation towards how Zen- centered much of international haiku seems to the Japanese. Yet, it’s not easy for Japanese to know how much Blyth’s interpretations of haiku influenced Western poets or know that a good number of Western haiku poets are dedicated Buddhists and a large number feel something akin to Eastern philosophy.
It is my guess, that Ban’ya wrote the “Flying
Pope” series as a reaction towards haiku abroad that contain the expressions such as “laughing buddha.” One or two reviewers wondered what Ban’ya even knew about the pope or Catholicism, and I realized that this is the reaction he must have expected. But the truth is that as a college professor who lived in France and is well-versed in international events, Ban’ya must remember how the press used to call Pope John Paul the “Flying Pope” because of his constant travel. So, here we have the paradox of people in the East and West expecting each other to stick to their own cultural associations.
In conclusion, I find most of “gendai haiku” are fascinating and believe that though it’s not for everyone, it is invigorating for haiku in Japan.
Will the kind of haiku written in “Roadrunner” (for example) catch on with a greater number of poets outside Japan? I think it’s likely. But what’s the most important, no matter what the style, is that the core of haiku reverberates with something traditional while it achieves a quality of freshness.
ps I should’ve said ” ‘firefly’ as utterance” rather than ” ‘firefly’ as word”, above, I think, though I mean both.
Lorin
← Previous Comments
Next Comments →