Mary!!

I have learned this: the most important thing about Haiku is that ... you got it, you got it!!
It's about sharing an experience.

I am so excited that you got it that I must go outside again and run around in big circles!!

Cally

cally lol -- I do belive you are a bobtail out on the loose. Both are flooded with life and truth.

kkeep going and going and going

Lee,

Thanks for the feedback. I am glad you seemed to like most of them and I mostly agree with what you found lacking in some.

Which is sort of the point. I wasn't sure if this was a knock or compliment.

I'll take that as a huge compliment. Issa is my favorite, and this is obviously an homage/ripoff.

Thanks again for your critique and kind remarks.

David R.

lee goodonya.. great links to spend a day exploring.

( I'm stuck in this chair after pulling my back again yesterday)

and let me add, any bugger who tries to say this form is meant to be stuck in free verse better spend a few weeks trying it. it is hard, very hard,

like

Cally's bug eater

two pinches of snuff
for lizard laying and
ignite dragons breath


yes I'll keep trying ~~ henie

edit in

oops I called stephen lee.. think he noticed!

[This message has been edited by Henrietta kelly (edited October 16, 2008).]

Lee,

I have a couple questions I'd love to hear you respond to. They are both pretty big, so I'll divide them into two posts. Here is the first:

The whole issue of kigo, season words, or seasonal references is very controversial. As I said in the Open Mic thread, I have ducked out of many heated discussion on the matter. As a haiku writer, I have shifted positions in the debate more than a few times, and I have finally decided to be comfortable not making up my mind how I feel about it. Earlier in this thread, you said, "The seasonal image is important, but not always necessary if you have some other element to add depth or interest to the poem." I wonder if you could say more about that, and about the whole issue of seasonal references in haiku.

David R.

Here is the second "question." Are these questions? (I hope others aren't too annoyed by my multiple posts.)

Henie's remark is a perfect lead-in to this:

In the Open Mic thread we were discussing craft in haiku, and Stephen suggested I bring it up with you. I think one of the many myths about haiku is that it requires little or no revision -- Steve referred to the "Revise? Me? I'm channeling the universe! attitude that sometimes builds up among "Zen school" haikuists in the West."

For laziness' sake I'll quote what I said in the other thread. I said, "It does seem counter-intuitive that one would have to revise and carefully craft a poem that attempts to capture a present moment in a seemingly unmediated way. But I think it actually takes a great deal of distance and artifice to pull it off." Later I added:


I also think this question and the Buson story are particularly interesting given the history of haikai and extemporaneous linking verse, about which I know very little.

I know that is a lot to respond to, but I'd love to hear your response.

David R.


[This message has been edited by David Rosenthal (edited October 15, 2008).]

Two serious haiku:

Early autumn
afternoon light--
your cheeks still blush.

The muskrat
leaves mud contrails
in reflected clouds.

and an homage/parody/joke

White bratwurst;
add a pair of wings--
a plump pigeon!

any criticisms greatly appreciated.

Dear Mr. Gurga,

Thank you for joining us and sharing your expertise.

Nobuyuki Yuasa's translation of Basho's The Narrow Road to the Deep North, and Other Travel Sketches is a book I treasure. However, in one of the links Stephen provided, Higginson (God rest him) was fairly critical of Yuasa's translation. He felt the haiku too wordy, and compared the prose to Irving Walsh (whoever that is). Is the Yuasa translation faulty? And if so, are there better ones available?

And another question, if I may -- many of the footnotes in The Narrow Road indicate that the haiku were in the irregular forms such as eight-seven-five or six-eight-five or seven-seven-five. So I was just wondering, how strict was the five-seven-five form in traditional Japanese haiku?

Regards,
Brian

black tree, white skies.
filmed. framed.
look up! birds soar.


OR


black tree, white skies.
filmed. framed.
look up! birds fly away.

how to get through the day?
elementary, my dear Watson!
a six-pipe problem

Lee—

Thank you. Your reply is illuminating.

I like the 2nd one without the bird word better. I know itchanges the outcome by it gives a study of the person

Stephen

Editor's Thought Pieces

while reading them I found the advice being given is true for all poetry.

I was punching the air and saying yesss! at last.

Henie, Good morning! Thanks for the primer on local flora and fauna. Your poems highlight the fact that when one uses images with which the readers may not be familiar it might be helpful to provide some notes for them.

full moon
for all - civil partnership
for some

OK, David, I will see what I can do. I will begin with my favorite quote about the use of the seasonal image in haiku. It is from the article on haiku in the 1984 edition of the Kodansha Encyclopedia of Japan:

"In a poem where the seasonal theme fulfills its true evocative function, there must be a reciprocity between the season which expands the scope of the haiku and creates the atmospheric background of associations . . . and the specific scene which points out a characteristic yet often forgotten aspect of the season and thus enriches our understanding of it."

To me this is one of the ideals of haiku: to point out a characteristic yet often forgotten aspect of the season and thus enriches our understanding of it. This, I believe, is one of the greatest gifts a haiku poet can offer to the reader. Here are a couple of haiku that I think achieve that ideal:

plum blossoms falling
the gardener softly singing
in my father’s tongue Sandra Fuhringer

winter eve—
moonlight flooding the crater
of each acne scar Ken Hurm

winter twilight
the distant ring
of someone else’s phone Lori Laliberte-Carey

While the inclusion of a seasonal image in haiku might be considered an historical accident, what haiku poets have done is used this image to make haiku and unique and powerful genre of poetry. Here is Basho's student Kyoriku, quoted in Haruo Shirane's wonderful book, TRACES OF DREAMS: "My approach can be compared to placing the (seasonal)topic in a box, climbing on top of that box, and viewing heaven and earth from that perspective (105)." After reading this, one might well ask, 'why would anyone not want to use a seasonal image?'

But, of course, are there are other things that one might use in a poem to give one a view of heaven and earth. I believe Steve C. mentioned Ban'ya Natsuishi earlier. He has been working toward a wider acceptance of non-seasonal "topics" in haiku, images that can add the same view of heaven and earth that seasonal images do.

My current approach is to look at a haiku from the perspective of tying three things together. This can be articulated in several ways. Here are two that I hope will help you to see what I am getting at:

universal < particular > human

or perhaps

realm
of
the
spirit
realm of the senses
realm
of
the
heart

I hope this has gone some way toward answering your question, David. Haiku can, of course, be many things. After all, it originates as a kind of "playful verse." I like to play, too, and often do play with haiku, humor being an important part of haiku. But the haiku that touch me most deeply connect the realm of the spirit to the realm of the heart through the senses. And many of the best haiku make this connection through the senses with a seasonal image.

David, I thought your second question was going to be harder than the first, but it is much easier. I try to avoid unqualified statements, but here is one: Revision is an essential part of the haiku art. Period. Lee

Hi David,

I meant to get back to you on this earlier, but as you might guess, I've been chasing many rabbits at once here. Anyway, your quotation from Buson is legitimate, and indeed quite famous. It is also, I suspect, rather misunderstood. Besides a few selective snippets, I couldn't find a full translation on line, or in any of my English print sources (I would have sworn that Blyth would quote it somewhere--he probably does, I just can't find it). So here is the relevant passage from Buson's "Preface to Shundeikushu," as hastily translated by yours truly:
There's all sorts of interesting, counterintuitive stuff going on here. Indeed, some might balk at it as terrible advice. Painters should read poetry? Chinese poetry? Whatever happened to "sketching from life"? And what precisely is "departing from the commonplace" anyway?

A couple of points. First of all, the word "commonplace" is slippery. We're apt to think of it as the opposite of "extraordinary." But for Buson, the more likely option perhaps is "elegant." Indeed, the "commonplace language" of the first paragraph might as easily be translated "slang," the actual meaning of zokugo in modern Japanese (though it's always important not to read modern meanings into old texts). Anyway what Buson is urging is perhaps something along the lines of Wordsworth's championing "the real language of men" in opposition to a stagnant, traditional poetic diction of "birds and flowers." That said, he also clearly means something more as well.

And what about that "certain Zen master"? Some might point to that line as evidence of the importance of Zen to haiku . . . but if you look closely, you'll see that Buson is saying that Zen is like haiku, not the other way around. That's not a rejection of Zen, of course--but it should give us all pause. (Incidentally, according to the footnotes in my Shincho edition, the Zen master in question is Hakuin. And "the sound of two hands," despite appearances, is not the famous "sound of one hand clapping" thing. Rather, it's two hands not clapping. Go figure.)

Anyway, the upshot of all this is a muddle. Buson urges Shoha to return to the commonplace to depart from the commonplace, and he sends him off to look for clues in Tang Dynasty Chinese poetry! The puzzle of what precisely is intended here is ripe material for a dissertation or two--though my own feeling is that it probably was never intended to withstand such scrutiny. What I think does emerge as certain, however, is a view of haikai (haiku poetry) that's worth taking seriously coming from a source like Buson--a haikai that is (a) unbeholden to any theory of "naive naturalism" yet committed to finding material (for transcendence!) in the "commonplace"; (b) friendly with, but cheerfully independent of, Zen-style spiritualism; and (c) shamelessly--I repeat the word, shamelessly--"literary."

My question to Lee is . . . Is Buson off his rocker, or what?

Steve C.

p.s. I hope to post some links about renku and haikai to the Resources page in the next day or so. Oh yes, and a note: The Painter was a collection of painting theory popular in Buson's time.

*

p.p.s. Editing back. Cross-posted with Lee. I second his endorsement of Shirane's _ToD_. It's an excellent source for understanding the cultural and literary milieu that gave birth to haikai.





[This message has been edited by Stephen Collington (edited October 16, 2008).]

Stephen,

Thank you for hosting Lee Gurga on Distinguished Guest; I got my first real taste of Haiku when he visited in 06 and am very grateful for the experience.

Lee,

Here are some Haiku that I have put together in the recent past (some very recent, some in the last year or so.) Please dissect away and help me improve my hold on this most difficult art. Bad Haiku are easy to write, ok Haiku are a little more difficult, good Haiku very hard in deed and excellent Haiku…

mother’s lawn;
fallen apples
brown and red

long day…
the cat stretches
and ignores me

snowflakes
seen through the windshield
people in rags

winter night—
shadows shiver
around the barrel

green pears
mottled brown
lunch bags

early autumn…
the sound of leaves falling
in my office

Indian summer
a robin perches
on the headstone

Easter lilies—
the last trumpet falls
without a sound

night sky
it's just you and me
little bug

October rain
again this grey wet
phlegm on my chin


Thank You!

Fr. RP

Welcome back, Lee, and thanks very much for your dedication and energy. Your last visit was enormously stimulating, and this one shows every sign of being at least as fruitful.

An airport somewhere
The candidate and his wife
Flags flags flags flags flags

we share a table
translucent rice noodles
spring rain shimmers

company outing
under the cherry blossoms
a manager snores

tie and jacket off
drunken company party
he has pissed himself

New England autumn
running backs slide through the rain
cheerleaders tumble

six miles of sand
the summer people are gone
beach dogs race the surf

the special needs child
carried to each campaign stop
a special trophy




[This message has been edited by Michael Cantor (edited October 16, 2008).]

Thanks for sharing your haiku, Martin. I will try to give you something in return.

Early autumn
afternoon light--
your cheeks still blush.

I think there is something good here: Two images, one seasonal, and a warm feeling is sent and received. That said, I am going to start getting a little more picky from now on, and I hope Martin will forgive me for starting with his poem. (But nothing really damning, so put away the nitro tablets!) This haiku gives me a chance to talk about the connection between the images. Like the Three Bears, there are three possibilities: too cold, too hot and just right. If the images are two far away, the reader will not be able to put them together and there will be no spark, only confustion. If they are too close, there will be no spark, only a current. But if they are just right, the images will spark in the reader's mind and heart. While i feel that the poem is successful, i think the connection between the images might be a tad too close. For my second point, i will deliberately misread the poem. If one were contrary and cynical, one could read the poem in this way: the "you" refered to in the poem is a corpse. The only reason i mention this is to point out that one must be very careful that what one intends to say is what one actually does say. The most famous example of this i know of is by my haiku buddy, Randy Brooks. He once wrote something like "summer evening / my mother takes my arm / from grave to grave." Of course, what was meant was that his mother took him by the arm and led him from family grave to family grave. But the actual poem has his mother carrying around an arm looking for somewhere to put it. I think that because of its concision, the haiku poet is especially vulnerable to this kind of misadventure.

The muskrat
leaves mud contrails
in reflected clouds.

I think this one is "OK", but I am not particularly fond of haiku that contain conceits like this. It is partly because as an editor I have read thousands of poems like this and after a while one develops a preference for direct experience over appearances.

and an homage/parody/joke

White bratwurst;
add a pair of wings--
a plump pigeon!

How can anyone not like a bratwurst haiku?

Brian, "Lee" is fine. To get to your questions: Yes, I agree with Bill's assesment of the Yuasa translation. On the other hand, if you like the book, please enjoy it. The main caution would be to not use the haiku translations as models for your own efforts at haiku. As to recommendations, I would suggest Hiro Sato's translation.

Form. Yes, many people from the "give me 5-7-5 or give me Death" school may not be aware that there is and has been considerable variation in the actual practice of Japanese haiku. So the form in Japanese is, shall we say, strict but fluid. After all, it is variation from form that is one of the tools in the poet's workshop for producing energy in a poem. If people did not have some idea of haiku form Cor van den Heuvel's haiku "tundra" (that is, the single word "tundra" on a white page) would not have had the impact that it did.

Steve, Wow! What an erudite posting! I am jealous of your facility with Japanese. Well, not jealous. Extremely jealous! Onward . . .

Shirane also discusses this matter in some detail in his Traces of Dreams. In fact, he has a chapter on Basho’s poetics titled “Awakening to the High, Returning to the Low.” As far as my thoughts on “Departing from the commonplace while using the commonplace” are concerned, my current understanding of this concept, and its application to my own practice of haiku, is contained in my earlier posting in terms of using sensory (ordinarliy seasonal) images to connect heaven and heart. But please note that “departing from the commonplace” implies BEGINNING in the commonplace. Otherwise, how can one depart from it? Lee

P.S. A fabulous idea to post links on "renku," etc.

Thanks Lee!
It may be that I love The Narrow Road more in spite of than because of Yuasa's translation, and will love a better (or different) translation even more.

the ball I lost
from the tee turns up
in the hole

(Hi Lee!)

Hi, Robert. I remember you and your fine work very well from last time around. Some comments below . . .

mother’s lawn;
fallen apples
brown and red

I think this one is well done and has something to it.

long day…
the cat stretches
and ignores me

And on the short day, too, but somehow there is a certain "rightness" to the long day here. Well done.

snowflakes
seen through the windshield
people in rags

Doesn't seem as strong as the other ones. The association of images seems more arbitrary here.

winter night—
shadows shiver
around the barrel

OK, but "winter" in contained in "shiver" and "night" in "shadows", so there is a certain redundancy here that indicates that this poem might benefit from a more rigorously applied editorial scalpel.

green pears
mottled brown
lunch bags

This one says less to me than the others so far.

early autumn…
the sound of leaves falling
in my office

Once again, there is a certain redundancy here that detracts somewhat.

Indian summer
a robin perches
on the headstone

Much more nicely done, don't you think?

Easter lilies—
the last trumpet falls
without a sound

OK, but I am not getting much out of it except the pun on "trumpet."

night sky
it's just you and me
little bug

Also OK, but aren't there also stars and possibly the moon?

October rain
again this grey wet
phlegm on my chin

Also OK, but "longest day" or "indian summer" still seem the strongest of the bunch. Thanks for sharing! Reading these poems, no one will doubt that you know haiku. Lee

Brevity is the soul of wit, and I am often witless.

Thanks, Lee, for your reply to my "questions." i especially like your answer to the "seasonal reference" question. I think the "universal < particular > human" formulation is on the money. My own feeling at this moment is that the "atmospheric background of associations" is what is essential, but I agree with you that the best haiku evoke it through seasonal references. I also find I often make seasonal references accidentally. Often those are the best ones because I am not too conscious of the atmospheric context I am playing with, at least until later in the revision process.

David R.

We end back in the commonplace too, right -- "Return to the Low?" It is a lot to do in three short phrases.

David R.

I keep thinking about these comments and like a good haiku, they keep deepening for me. I suddenly feel like going back and revising every haiku I have ever written. I should probably just write some new ones. Nice to have you here, Lee.

David R.

Thanks Lee. But you know, it's really just a matter of having been soaked in the stuff for so many years. Like a Japanese pickle . . . goes well with rice.

And Lee, as a dentist, I'm sure you'll appreciate this: I can never remember how many teeth I have in my head. (I have my full "natural" complement, minus the "wisdoms.") Every now and then I'll read or see something that reminds me of the question, and I'll try to remember, and I can't. So I wind up sticking a finger in my mouth and counting. Often I'll get halfway across and lose track and have to start over. Just now I thought of the question again, and my best guess was 26 . . . or maybe 32? Turns out I have 28! Assuming I didn't miscount again, that is.

And come to think of it, 26 is pretty rich too, huh? Duh!

Steve C.

This thread has made for fascinating reading!

I'm new to haiku, and all that I know about it was learned from these very pages, not to mention Lee's articles!

wide-eyed lunar reveler
gazing at a puddle
a drop of rain dissolves the moon

a batch of letters
dropped amongst the leaves
- now I'll be late....

Stuart

Lee

I know Stephen said you prefered a group of haiku, but until this morning I hadn't written any haiku for about five years. Now I've got three, so I can present them as a group. Any comments you may have would be appreciated.

Duncan

how to get through the day?
elementary, my dear Watson!
a six-pipe problem

the ball I lost
from the tee turns up
in the hole

wretched I
cross the
line at
last


[This message has been edited by Duncan Gillies MacLaurin (edited October 16, 2008).]

Hi Michael! Another well-remembered poet from my last visit! Thanks for the kind words. I will try to live up to them this time! Sorry to take so long to reply, but i have had to wrestle the keyboard away from my wife. The fact that it has taken me an hour and a half to do so says something about who is stronger. On to the haiku . . .

An airport somewhere
The candidate and his wife
Flags flags flags flags flags

H! Ain't it the truth!

we share a table
translucent rice noodles
spring rain shimmers

I think you are on the way to something here, but fear you are not quite there. It seems a bit disjointed somehow--I suggest you try moving the images around and seeing if you get something that connects a little better. I also suggest you reevaluate "translucent," as I believe rice noodles are translucent. (Well, maybe there are some that arent, but i haven' seen them.)

company outing
under the cherry blossoms
a manager snores

tie and jacket off
drunken company party
he has pissed himself

From a technical point of view, the company party is the context and it is usually best to present the context first rather than later, unless you have some specific reason to do so. If you are trying to recreate your experience for the reacer, it is generally best to present the images in the order of perception, as we say in haikuworld.

New England autumn
running backs slide through the rain
cheerleaders tumble

I would consider "running backs" to be a sufficient autumn seasonal image, which gives you the opportunity to do something more with the first line.

six miles of sand
the summer people are gone
beach dogs race the surf

Has potential, but as it is it is a "list," with one image to a line. Perhaps you might consider tying two of the lines together to give us a more fully realized end of summer haiku.


the special needs child
carried to the campaign stops
a special trophy

Naughty, naughty! (Just kidding) Seriously, this is certainly an appropriate subject for haiku. There is a problem here, though. This is what i refer to as a "third line as a title" haiku. The third line here presents an interpretation of the first image. It would be better if if you could find a way to let the reader draw this conclusion for him/herself. As I recall, Steve C. put up a link with his introduction to a short essay on editing haiku which discusses this issue. All in all, a nice batch of haiku! Lee

Hi, Duncan! Thanks for sharing the haiku. I can offer your congratulations, but i am afraid not much else in the way of comments or suggestions. Keep them coming! Lee

Lee,

Thank you for the compliment. When you stopped by in 06 that was my first real taste of Haiku and I am truly grateful for your encouragement and patience with many of my amateur attempts.

I agree that the cat and the robin are probably the best of the bunch; (I like the apples on the lawn too and the little bug,) all real Haiku Moments (they do happen sometimes!)

I see the double seasonal references in the leaves & winter and think I will get out the scalpel. Maybe some good Haiku still lie hidden beneath the surface of those two…

Much Appreciated,

Fr. RP

PS: How long are you around, I have many more but don’t want to inundate the thread. Also, do you do Tanka? I have found it to be a very exacting art that keeps me striving and I think it helps me write Haiku.

David, Do you remember me telling you it was easy? The best haiku often have a circularity in which the open endedness of the the poem brings you back to the beginning which leads you back to the end which brings your back to the beginning . . . Lee

Hi, Stuart! I think you have made a good start . . .

wide-eyed lunar reveler
gazing at a puddle
a drop of rain dissolves the moon

a batch of letters
dropped amongst the leaves
- now I'll be late....

I think this one is the better of the two. It has a certain genuineness of feeling, has a distinctive gift directly from you to the reader. Lee

Thanks for sharing your poems, Duncan. I have already commented on the second one. I am afraid I don't have a lot to say about the other two except this: the bedst haiku usually present a particular experience or scene, whereas these two are more generalized than particular. You might try to write about particular experiences you have had and then paint the picture so it puts the reader there with you to share the experience. Hope this helps! Lee

how to get through the day?
elementary, my dear Watson!
a six-pipe problem

the ball I lost
from the tee turns up
in the hole

wretched I
cross the
line at
last

Hi Stuart, Lee,

Stuart, seeing your name up above reminded me of something you said on our Warm-Up thread that I thought was interesting, and that I think might make a useful question for Lee to address with us: Now, I know you say "in the best possible way," and I agree that that is sometimes the result. But as a personal observation, I often find that haiku suffer from being too much like annotations, or even definitions in a dictionary. So, to use a deliberately bad made-up example,

autumn evening
cool wind blows in from the west
as sun is setting

You don't say!

This is one of the traps that beginner haikuists often seem to fall into--and sometimes, not-so-beginners too. Lee's been giving us some very insightful advice on "sparking distances" today . . . this may come under the the general heading too, I suppose. Anyway, Lee, if you've got a moment, it seems an interesting question. Any thoughts?

Steve C.

p.s. (Editing back.) Look Lee, you've got a star now!

p.p.s. (Editing back again.) Just realized how funny my salutation at the top of the post must look! Now all we need is a Jackson.

p.p.p.s. (Again! Aiyaiyai, this has to stop.) Stuart, please note: I don't mean to imply that your own poems made me think of the "annotation problem"; it was just seeing your name here that reminded me of your Open Mic post.




[This message has been edited by Stephen Collington (edited October 16, 2008).]

Robert, Glad to have been of some service! To answer your questions, I expect to be around for several more days or until I collapse which ever comes first. I don't personally write tanka very much and will avoid them here. They are a different kind of poem with a different aesthetic and, to be frank, I don't care enough about them to want to spend my time with them. Time for lunch and a nap! Lee