17 SYLLABLES – Written by a Man
Dear Readers,
You are in for a bonus today. Yes, it’s about haiku. No, it isn’t about analysis. Oh-oh. We’re going to break our promise about offering a series of female poets to balance out a male-dominated string of posts. No, not a “string”; rather the past total of the guys’ work makes up the threads of a Persian rug the size of Saudi Arabia. (Hmmm . . . Does that analogy work?)
Today’s bonus takes a detour to present haiku by our honored guest: The Chairman. It would seem that he was inspired by last week’s post and decided to create a few 17-syllable masterpieces of his own. So, after you’ve read the background that follows, dive right into the Chairman’s haiku, spiced with a few haiku by women know their 5-7-5s. And please, don’t be hard on today’s guest. I confess, I am the one who invited him to be our gender-breaking visitor today. No, it isn’t nepotism.
Background: A Brief History of Haiku
Haiku’s origin began in the thirteenth century with the renga form which was delivered orally. Typically, the renga was a hundred stanzas long, and like later haiku composed syllabically. In this early stage, the haiku took its place as the opening phrase of the renga. In the sixteenth century, haiku separated from renga. In the seventeenth century, Matsuo Basho developed the haiku form.
Today, those who know anything about haiku think the form is always a 5-7-5, three-line form, but this is not true. This basic form is often broken; in translation, there are difficulties keeping the meaning of the poem clear, yet still in the 5-7-5 approach. Although the structure of the form varies, the essence and traditional images stay the same. These include a wisp of time, provocative images, and a pivot point that is often a brief description of sudden enlightenment. Also, the haiku is to be read in one breath. Try that with a sonnet!
Modern poets highlight the energy of haiku’s brief, one-breath form. Paradoxical word-pictures that carry philosophical messages that echo far beyond the words themselves. Ezra Pound wrote, “. . . The image is the word beyond formulated language.” The following poem exhibits Pound’s understanding of the haiku essence. It started out with thirty lines, but with much effort, in finished form was only two! It is called “In a Station of the Metro.” (Apologies for Mr. Pound. He snuck in to support the Chairman!)
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
Haiku Written by Women – and by One Man
Our honored manly guest who writes haiku is Wannaskan Almanac’s very own “Chairman” featured on Fridays and Sundays. He frequently writes poetry and is skilled in several forms. In fact, he contributes a poem each week in a reply to Word-Wednesday’s post of that day. The Chairman sets himself the daunting challenge of using the list of “Words I Looked Up This Week” to craft a poem each week. The Chairman must nearly burst his creative little gray cells (not really – he’s up to the weekly task) using every last one of Word-Wednesday’s proffered words. And if you’ve ever read the feature, you’ll see what a feat of creativity this is. Here is one haiku that the Chairman let us share with you.
Everyone can sit through seventeen syllables.
He follows these seventeen syllables saying, “Hey! That’s a haiku.” Go ahead. Count them. He is so skilled with the form that he writes in haiku even when he doesn’t mean to!
Next, we observe Master Chairman pairing his haiku with an ancient one. Note that he has broken with the 5-7-5 syllable for three, four-syllable lines.
Vacation
At eight o five
The kids still sleep.
They dream of ponds.
The Chairman connects the haiku above with a well-known haiku below. He chose what is arguably the haiku that any literary person would know. It is by Matsuo Basho; the poem is so challenging that dozens of skilled translators have taken on the task of transforming the poem from Japanese to English and other languages - as it should be with all good poetry.
Here is the translation that the Chairman chose:
“The Old Pond” by Matsuo Bashō (1644 – 1694)
An old silent pond
A frog jumps into the pond—
Splash! Silence again.
Returning to the Chairman’s haiku, we have:
Every yahoo thinks he or she can write a haiku. (Oops)
To compare and contrast haiku is like combing the hair of a Buddhist monk. (19 syllables)
Writing haiku is as hard as combing the hair of a Buddhist monk (17 syllables). Apologies Mr. Chairman! I couldn’t help myself. I don’t think you meant your version to be a haiku, but rather a witty aside. You now have permission to mess with one of my poems – any form, but you have to post it on a Friday, or a Sunday should you wish to do so.
He adds: “Not that it’s not worth trying."
Whew! There you have it – an interlude courtesy of the Chairman. Now we’ll carry on with two womankind representatives of the haiku genre:
nuimono ni hari no koboruru uzura kana
at her sewing
the needle drops —
the quail’s cry
Chiyo-ni (Kaga no Chiyo)
Over the wintry
Forest, winds howl in rage
With no leaves to blow
Natsume Sōseki
Exploration 1: Can you see the reason for the “Oops” in any of Chairman Joe’s haiku?
Exploration 2: Why is writing haiku as hard or harder than combing the hair of a Buddhist monk? Yes, this is a riddle.
Exploration 3: Any thoughts on the Chairman’s use of the haiku form?
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