. . . 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:
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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.
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firefly after firefly
out of the wide open
mouth of a woman
—Chuei Yagi
out of the wide open
mouth of a woman
firefly firefly
– Gabi (trans)
Interesting that in Gabi’s translation the ‘edge’ between ‘firefly’ as image of the insect and ‘firefly’ as word becomes (in my reading) even less distinct. Yet the 3rd line still surprises.
But today I am reminded, amusingly, that so much depends on the culture, which includes the classics of the literature. I have learnt that *calling* fireflies was common practice! At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from several haiku by Issa on David Lanoue’s site:
http://haikuguy.com/issa/index.html
hito-goe ya ôhone otte tobu hotaru
people’s voices–
with all their might
the fireflies flit
Issa-1814
‘Literally, the firefly (or fireflies) are flitting with “bone-breaking” effort … to reward the people who are calling.’ (quote from site)
yobu koe wo hariai ni tobu hotaru kana
toward the calling voice
flying with gusto…
firefly
Issa – 1820
mokuboji ya inu ga yonde mo kuru hotaru
Mokubo Temple–
the dog calls, too
fireflies come
Issa -1813
and,
[hotaru] yobu kuchi e tobi iru hotaru kana
a mouth calling fireflies–
one
flies in
Issa – 1812
‘In his diary, this haiku actually begins with the word, “nightingale” (uguisu). Scholars are confident that Issa meant to write the similar character, “firefly” (hotaru).’ ( quote from site)
Given this ‘firefly calling’ custom, and that last one of Issa’s (which amusingly reminds me of my grandmother’s response to the ‘O’ mouth in children, “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies”) Chuei Yagi’s ‘firefly after firefly’/ firefly firefly’ ‘out of the wide open/ mouth of a woman’ seems far less strange and a lot lighter in tone , since we can assume at least familiarity with Issa’s previous work and perhaps even allusion. In light of that, Chuei Yagi’s haiku takes on the layered quality of fairy tales.
Lorin
Scott, I appreciate the way you worded the second paragraph of the above post. I’ve been trying to explain haiku to someone in my area who e-mails asking questions and I feel that a good deal of haiku is understood in those lines. Funny how strange that way of thinking is to some in the Western world.
ほうとあく女のくちからほたるほたる
firefly after firefly
out of the wide open
mouth of a woman
—Chuei Yagi
The three Japanese lines read
out of the wide open
mouth of a woman
firefly firefly
.
it’s interesting that we began with more contemporary/modern/20th c. work (gendai) and it’s found its way back to that Shintō god, Bashō.
so, (Gabi), are you saying that the cut/kireji is what ties gendai/modern haiku to hokku? is it the shifting/drifting of language/time/space/images that serves as the silky iron thread that allows the art of haiku to continue to expand?
also, there was some discussion of a firefly ku a ways back that i shared:
ほうとあく女のくちからほたるほたる
firefly after firefly
out of the wide open
mouth of a woman
—Chuei Yagi
(interesting how the english of the second line tries to trick the reader into thinking something far more familiar and expected, leading us to a 3rd line that utterly surprises, utterly shifts expectations in imagery and experience)
While someone helpfully reminded us that in Japanese tradition they (fireflies/hotaru) are capable of representing the spirits of dead soldiers, i also, just yesterday, came across an exquisite hokku by Buson:
minasoko no
kusa ni kogaruru
hotaru kana
longing for the grass
at the bottom of the water
fireflies
(trans. by Makoto Ueda)
Ueda notes that this hokku “alludes to the Japanese poetic tradition, in which a firefly’s light was often used as a metaphor for the burning passion of a lover.”
this is an example of the poet personifying those amazing insects, and yet i feel he’s gotten me so close to them through this technique, the way they move. the word “longing” says volumes, and the japanese for it, “kogaruru,” somehow envelopes their movement. maybe an example of how image and movement became language for Buson. Buson was a famous painter, and yet, based on this ku, I get the impression he would have been a famous animator for anime films in the 20th and 21st c.
“I appreciate this about the cut marker.”
Dear Merrill,
here is a bit more about the cut marker (kireji)
and its possibilities of rendering it in EHL.
http://haikutopics.blogspot.com/2006/06/kireji.html
.
“I appreciate this about the cut marker.”
Dear Merrill,
maybe I posted this before but here is more about the cut marker (kireji) and its possibilities to translate/transform it in ELH.
http://haikutopics.blogspot.com/2006/06/kireji.html
Gabi, The post for “shadow” is so true. Any artist knows the intricate play of light and color in shadows and so many things
affect and change them.
I appreciate this about the cut marker. The more I write, the more valuable I find it. There was a time I enjoyed the ambiguity of leaving it out, but the more I desire to be more precise in my writing and for the reader who much try to discern what I’m trying to say, the “nuances” become more important.
Dear Lorin and all,
well, there is a reason for using the Cut Marker in Japanese haiku !! (grin …)
I checked a bit more on this haiku and found out that Basho made a few other versions before reaching this one.
bajoo … refers not the back of the horse, but a man on horseback
kage kooru 影氷る（かげこおる）frozen shadow
is a kigo for late winter
Anyway, the rest and my version of the translation is here
http://wkdhaikutopics.blogspot.com/2007/03/shadow.html
The Japanese original is indeed very important when discussing the fine nuances of Japanese haiku !
Gabi
the winter sun
on my horse’s back
my frozen shadow
Basho
the winter sun . . .
on my horse’s back
my frozen shadow
Gabi, I have to admit that the cut marker makes quite a difference in this one, the difference between reading the sun on the horse’s back or not.
It seems more elegant and true with the cut marker. After all, if the sun was directly on the horse’s back, the shadow would be on the horses neck, in front of the rider, ‘frozen’ or not, Winter or not. With the cut marker, the rider is heading toward the sun, the shadow is behind. The literal reading gives direction toward non-literal readings.
(in memory of my one horse, the most empathic, strong and many-paced quarter-horse, Tommy)
lorin
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