Matsuo Basho |
Just as
I was falling asleep on a recent evening I found myself musing about the images
that can be captured in the form of haiku, just 17 syllables long, three lines
of 5 then 7 then 5.
As I
relaxed into sleep, the following fully formed haiku simply materialized:
Morning
moon shines bright.
My dog
stretches and yawns. Damn!
We
missed garbage day.
Not
great poetry, I admit, but interesting enough for me to turn on the light and
write it down.
It
surprised me to discover when I re-read my silly example the next morning that
it somehow managed to capture all the traditional Japanese elements necessary
for traditional haiku.
First of
all, haiku seeks to convey everyday scenes, crystallizing them into two
distinct but linked images. These images are usually scenes containing an oblique
reference to the season ("kigo" in Japanese). The seasonal reference is often achieved by use of a metonym such as a frog for spring or rain for fall. In
my example, a sleepy dog stands for winter.
Second,
haiku always contains an abrupt transition from the first image to the second
("kiru" in Japanese). This transition can be accomplished by use of a
word ("kireji" in Japanese) or by other ellipsis. It usually occurs
at the end of a line and separates, while linking, the two images. In my
example the word "damn" at the end of the second line is an obvious
kireji linking the image of a cold winter morning with the chore of putting out
the garbage.
Finally,
haiku should have the traditional 5-7-5 syllable structure. Surprisingly, my
automatic poem almost achieved this structure. The next morning I found my
original effort had 6 syllables in the last line until I substituted the word
"missed" (1 syllable) for the original "forgot" (two
syllables).
Basho by Buson |
Haiku
emerged as an independent poetic form in 17th century Japan. In its earliest
forms a haiku was only the first verse of a longer collaborative linked poem
known as "renga." Stand alone haiku was popularized in Japan by
Matsuo Basho (1644 - 1694). Basho and his students wrote a great many stand
alone haiku and Basho also used haiku to provide vivid images for longer prose
works and travel diaries. This sub-genre is known as "haibun."
Basho's most famous haibun is the Japanese literary classic, "Oku no
Hosomichi" (usually translated as Narrow Roads to the Deep North or to the
Interior or as Back Roads to Oku).
I first encountered haiku in the 1960s in undergraduate school when I was required to read an English translation of Basho as part of a course in Japanese culture. I immediately loved Basho's vivid images of old imperial Japan. I even memorized his most famous haiku:
Old pond
. . .
A frog
leaps in
Sound of
water
Haiku
remained mostly unknown in the west until the middle of the 20th Century. This
is not surprising given that Japanese culture in general was not well
understood by westerners until well after the Second World War. A few poets
such as Ezra Pound and Amy Lowell recognized the beauty and potential of haiku
in English in the early decades of 20th Century but it took a long time to
really catch on. When it did catch on, it went totally viral, as we like to say
in the Internet age.
Why? I
think the answer can be found in my frivolous example. We think in images. We
remember in images. When we sleep, dream or meditate, these images rearrange
themselves in our mind in accordance with our personality. When two clear
images collide in an interesting way, we can turn the result into poetry.
Basho's gravestone |