Issa's Untidy Hut: Way of Haiku (The)

Showing posts with label Way of Haiku (The). Show all posts

Sunday, March 15, 2015

John Martone: a sailing book

John Martone never ceases to amaze and possibly the primary reason for this is that he never ceases to surprise, and be surprised.

As happens whenever one of John's books arrives in the mail, I look forward very much to reading and learning from one of the master poets of the short-short form. When I saw the title of this one, a sailing book, I thought, oh, this will be good fun.

Really, I had no idea.

(If I might digress a moment ... I can see, or maybe I should say hear, you smiling, you long-suffering reader of this blog ... Still, I should mention by way of a disclaimer that, though I don't have much by way of sea legs, I did live in a bungalow right on the eastern edge of our drifting continent for over ten years.

So, really, I should have had some idea.

Thanks for your patience - digression complete.)

The poetry that grabbed me particularly in a sailing book was, of course, the work that didn't go directly over my head, in this case the nautical stuff. It is enough, however, to have a hint of the nautical and, if you are a brief poem fan, this will be right up your tributary.

That's right, with just a hint of nautical experience (long walks on a nearly deserted beach, anyone?) I'll wager you'll still be truly knocked out.

Try these two:

hills around
the lake
slower waves

Right about now, I'm thinking you've got the idea. If you ever puzzled over the wave/particle theory conundrum, this is another angle to come at it from.

Then there's this (italics and font size not in error):

sailors' home
everywhere you look
buddha's image

R. H. Blyth, via Bashō, posited the idea of haiku as a Way to transcendence, for both reader and poet alike, a la The Way of Tea, The Way of the Samurai, and The Way of Flowers (Ikebana). The moment I read this poem I had a feeling, a rare surging feeling of truth, a substantive confirmation of poetry, of haiku, as a path, a way.

If you've ever been in a sailor's home, or even work shack ... well, yes. No image or icon necessary.

The poem that prompted me to ask John if I might discuss a sailing book, and post a couple of poems here on the Hut, was the following modern haibun (included as a photo because I couldn't replicate the layout here - please click to enlarge):

Click image to enlarge

"... Hubble clouds, a million pavilions of a hundred jewels — can you see ..."

Oh, yes, yes ...

There is so much in this fine, precise collection by John that, really, I can't say enough so I will leave it here.

The work, like many of John's books, is available for a modest price: in this case, $5.

a sailing book is worth every cent, and much, much more.

Art from the Internet Book Images

a wind-blown boat
a skylark
crossing paths

Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue

best,

Don

PS Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku

Sunday, February 22, 2015

The Pocket Haiku: Sam Hamill

Back in 2011 at the Haiku North America Conference in Seattle, poet Jerry Ball addressed a large roomful of haiku poets, practitioners, and scholars and set forth a challenge: he would present a series of quality haiku and we should determine the one element they all had in common.

He read poem after poem after poem and the assembled audience puzzled over their commonality, themes, philosophy, subjects, bent, and allusiveness to no avail. Person after person suggested possible connections without any luck.

Turned out that Mr. Ball was at once having a bit of fun and demonstrating a valid, if decidedly unpopular concept: haiku written in English in the 5/7/5 form.

Form vs content: the eternal battle in haiku, in poetry generally, in philosophy, and, yes, in life.

Mr. Ball's demonstration, as intended, gave everyone in the room something to think about.

Sam Hamill is a well-known poet, translator and activist who has collected together in The Pocket Haiku some 200 plus of his translations of classic haiku that have long been revered by readers, fellow poets, and critics alike. As the name implies, the book is small: 3 x 4.75 inches. At this size it fits in nearly any pocket you might have, giving you the ability to carry with you the core canon of classic haiku without ever having to charge a battery or power up 'the source.'

One remarkable aspect of these translations is their general adherence to the 5/7/5 form as delineated above. There is much to be said for the work of translators such as Lucien Styrk and Robert Hass and their use of a much briefer approach in their translations, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with Hamill's approach.

Here's a poem by Bashō, which I've probably read in any number of collections that I have no memory of. Hamill's translation is a resonant, singular work:

Come out to view
the truth of flowers blooming
in poverty

This rendition resonates in an at once very modern and a very classical way. In this next poem, the deep truth of humanness is quietly revealed:

utter aloneness -
another great pleasure
in autumn twilight

Perhaps this is less than modern yet all the more true for that. One can feel the irony cut both ways: aloneness is thought of as alienation, yet aloneness is the very thing that may unite us all, the essence of who we are. The oneness of all things is writ large in this compact gem.

All the wonderful Issa ku are represented here. Personally, the one that is fresh and new in Mr. Hamill's rendition is:

Just to say the word
home, that one word alone
so pleasantly cool

The poet here is engaged in a full tilt sensory way. It is not often that sound and touch are the senses that connect in a synesthiesiac manner. In this poem, the connection is resonant in a deep, abiding way.

A special delight of this collection is that, beyond the three classic haiku poets, there is a small collection of "Other Poets" of the classical school. Here, there are some less familiar gems, as in this anonymous haiku:

To learn how to die
watch cherry blossoms, observe
chrysanthemums

Here is the connection to nature, the Buddha's noble truth in action. And the deep truth of this poem, and the form itself, is easily confirmed when one thinks how the great haiku master, Shiki, spent his final years.

As I do with a great majority of books I read, I left the introduction to last. As a final example from this exemplary collection, I'll leave you with an Onitsura poem that I was happy to see Mr. Hamill chose to highlight in his intro:

True obedience:
silently the flower speaks
to the inner ear

This is a collection to go through again and again, as I've done and will continue to do. Whether at the bus stop, on lunch break, waiting on an appointment, concentrating full bore, I find the overall approach and execution, as in the works of Bashō and Issa, as instructive on many levels.

For Bashō there was the Way of Haiku, for Issa Pure Land Buddhism. For Sam Hamill, in his capacity of translator in this volume, there is the task to communicate the essence and the resonance of classic haiku, its origin, its philosophy, its execution ...

... and, its all-important universal message. And he has done just that.

This book belongs in the collection, and pocket, of every haiku aficionado. It can be purchased directly from the publisher, Shambhala, or your favorite independent bookseller. You won't regret it.

best,
Don

PS Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku

Friday, April 5, 2013

R. H. Blyth: Haiku's Big Picture

R. H Blyth Portrait from the British Haiku Society webpage

In the introduction to Haiku, Volume 3: Summer and Autumn, by R. H. Blyth, may be found the following:

"When we read these verses, we realize that haiku is a way of living. It offers itself to mankind, not as a substitute for Christianity or Buddhism, but as their fulfillment. It is "Love one another" applied to all things without exception."

This statement, quite simply, is the one that separates Blyth's detractors from his admirers. An article by Donna Farrell in 2004 addresses the Blyth approach (spiritual or Zen) versus the H. G. Henderson approach (imaginative or creative). The article is brief and to the point, and well worth a peek. I very much like her conclusion:

Perhaps the time has come for two umbrellas (whatever their size) rather than one.

There is, of course, a third approach, one which Ed Baker has espoused here, and in correspondence, on a number of occasions: he calls his haiku-like poems "shorties," and has done with it.

Cheers, Ed!