“The Lover of Chaos,” a book that makes you feel like you understand the essence of haiku
When I encounter a book that captures my heart, I want to read all of that author's works. In terms of haiku-related books, after reading “This Haiku is Amazing!”, I binged on books by Kyozo Kobayashi.
I hadn't found anything like that since, but the other day I read Yuko Onda’s “The Star Gazer”, and I was completely blown away by it.
So, my Yuko Onda reading month has begun. First is
is where I started.
The result of reading it.
It was an amazing book.
I think it is the book that has come closest to the essence of haiku among all the haiku theory books I have read so far.
While building on historical poetics, it discusses haiku in a catchy way.
Because of the subject matter, there are some difficult parts, but it is easy to understand thanks to the abundance of concrete examples.
There are parts where the argument is developed based on Japanese art, and Osamu Hashimoto’s “Hiragana History of Japanese Art”, which I read a long time ago, was helpful there. This book is also interesting, so I recommend it.
Below, I have noted down the parts that left an impression on me, so please take a look if you like! As always, I have edited the text for inclusion. I apologize if any parts differ from the original author's intent.
The Philosophy of Picture Scrolls and Haiku
I would like to seek the essence of Japanese culture in the “philosophy of picture scrolls.” I want to appreciate both poetry and art from that perspective. Both Basho and Hokusai are rich embodiments of the philosophy of picture scrolls. The fun of picture scrolls lies in entrusting your mind and body to a screen that can be viewed at a glance, and having your gaze drawn to the parts you like. Or, it lies in being able to rewind and say, “Just a moment ago.” Time in Japanese culture transforms freely. Diverse and heterogeneous times swirl around, smiling at the viewer. It is truly polyphonic, a festive time and space.
The “kire” (cutting) in haiku is inseparable from the structure of picture scrolls. Through “kire,” one is opened to the other, welcomes an unseen other, and a new structure of time is born. Haiku does not wish to be a work of the ego or a work of the intellect. Just as a Noh mask waits for a performer who will be possessed by it and live far beyond time and space.
Clouds of peaks, how many have crumbled, the mountain of the moon — Basho
“The mountain of the moon” forms a five-fold nested structure.
- “Mt. Gassan,” the name of the mountain in Dewa that he is actually climbing
- The mountain illuminated by the moon
- “Gassan,” the mark of the swordsmith at the foot of the mountain
- The moon of Suchness in the Tendai sect
- A metaphor for the feminine principle
Let us appreciate this polyphonically, based on this structure. I saw it again this morning. The peak clouds towering majestically in the scorching sky. The sun has already set, and the cumulonimbus clouds are nowhere to be seen. Oh, Mt. Gassan, washed in cold moonlight. Do you know that the clouds of peaks were my worldly desires, my thoughts of madness? I will keep walking until I shine like the moon of Suchness someday. I will keep forging the sword that is the seventeen-syllable poem until it becomes the scent of the moon. This is an expression of Basho’s own intuitive grasp, with his entire weight behind it. It can be said to be a polyhedral expression that is no less than the Cubism attempted by Picasso. The haiku technique that says “haiku is about capturing the moment” is actually for beginners.
The true value of haiku does not lie in sketching that reproduces what is seen. Great haiku always waver in ambiguity. Weak and small poems spread ripples into the world of the invisible, attempting to intersect with vast time and space. The better the haiku, the more it stands straight up from the roots planted in the ground like a single tree, spreading a rich shade.
The established theory that “haiku is an independent hokku from renku” is merely a theory of origin. It is not a theory of essence to be followed. In renku, all aspects of this world pour in to form a single scroll like a picture scroll. Excellent haiku, in their “kire,” fold in a universe no less than a single scroll of renku. Haiku is now the sublation of a single scroll of renku.
Floating lanterns, one suddenly goes upstream — Jakushi
Someone might ask if a lantern could really go upstream against the river's current. Even an impossible phenomenon transcends reality through the resolute rhythm of “one suddenly.” I would like to call the magical power of a great haiku that which acquires the reality of poetry and makes the unspeakable resonate. When the author lives the haiku with their whole being, the words resonate with a magical power as a strange living creature. The world that haiku conceives is boundless. Life and death are continuous, and the past and future pour into the present.
Fixed-form poetry is the nectar of language
Conventionally, it has been said that "5-7-5 (7-7) is a rhythmic meter that feels comfortable and stable for native Japanese speakers."
However, when I gave a lecture at a university in the south of France, people kept telling me, "The recitation of haiku sounded like music, like a song."
Perhaps 5-7-5 (7-7) has a high affinity for the Japanese language itself. I have been enchanted every time I heard French sonnets or odes. I was also once amazed by a CD of Tang poetry in its original language.
Fixed-form poetry with a high degree of crystallization in each language brings universal pleasure to the human ear. Perhaps fixed-form poetry is the "nectar of language" for each respective country.
"Xing" (Excitement/Inspiration) and Haiku
In a literary theory called "Shipin" (The Gradings of Poets) from around 500 AD, the following are listed as poetic techniques in order of importance:
・Xing: Letting emotion resonate in the margins of words (≒ metaphor)
・Bi: Entrusting thoughts to objects (≒ simile)
・Fu: Describing things exactly as they are (≒ direct narration)
are listed.
Let's list excellent haiku for each of the three techniques.
・Fu: Almost overlaps with sketch-style haiku
Stopping, the dragonflies multiply around me - Teijo Nakamura
Blooming fully, there were no flowers left to spill - Kyoshi Takahama
・Bi: Finding similarities in unexpected things. The richness of building a bridge
Like the night that was, the hazy moon glows - Mantaro Kubota
・Xing: Each sensibility creates polyphonic music. The real thrill of haiku
The swing must be rowed, love must be stolen - Takajo MitsuhashiA water pillow, suddenly, there is a cold sea - Sanki Saito
Those who understood the Imperial voice, step forward - Hakusen Watanabe
The dark part of the blue sky is the blood of a skylark - Mutsuo Takano
The metaphor of "Xing," which expresses the inexpressible, overlaps with Western symbolist poetry and never ceases to inspire the invisible. A "Xing" haiku whispers to the reader, "Fill this with the wine of your life." "Xing" is not a monologue. It shakes the substance of the author's and reader's imagination from the ground up.
"Xing" defines the method of conception. It is not about borrowing a certain thing, but rather that it cannot be anything other than through that thing, and that thing already prepares the subsequent sentiment.
The metaphor called "Xing" becomes a "beginning" precisely because it hides itself, and it triggers a "beginning."
Kire (Cutting) and Margins
Snow is quiet, abundant, and swift in the morgue - Hakyo Ishida
There is a "kire" (cut) at "hayashi" (is swift). If it had been "snow is quiet, abundant, and swift morgue," it would have been a mediocre haiku. The cut called "hayashi" makes the silent space resonate. The morgue is the mortuary of the tuberculosis sanatorium where Hakyo is staying.
This snow is snow that will eventually swallow flowers, young leaves, and autumn leaves in pure white. The space also transcends the situation of the tuberculosis sanatorium's morgue and transforms into the deathbed of every person. That is the magical power of "kire." The seasonal word of a famous haiku eventually escapes the framework of the current season.
The decline of the person I saw in a dream, hibiscus blooms - Mantaro Kubota
In the noun "otorohe" (decline), there is an abyss of "kire." While cutting at the middle seven, the upper and lower phrases soak into each other once more. They overlap. It is a "kire" that transforms like a mirage and continues to fluctuate.
Mantaro's "kire" is a cut like the linking of renga, which values "transition" and "resonance." The haiku poet's unique breath is contained within the "kire."
"Kire" is a space where the memories, emotions, and experiences of the creator and the receiver transform and replace each other. The creator and the receiver, in a horizontal relationship like a picture scroll, replace each other and empathize. A single tiny life, in the margins, opens infinitely toward others, the past, and the future. It tries to connect by cutting.
Even if you call it "kire" in one word, there is a difference as vast as heaven and earth between the "kire" of a masterpiece and that of a poor haiku. If you just step over a ditch nearby while humming in sandals, it will only result in a shallow haiku. A masterpiece is a haiku that has managed to turn the "kire" into a deep pool where hibiscus sways and white clouds drift by.
People live in a rich mixture of reality and fiction. The 'kire' (cutting word) in haiku draws its life from the conflict between that reality and fiction. In other words, the 'kire' in haiku means not being self-contained. It allows for a warm and deep connection with people, no matter how far apart they may be. That is the reason why the interactive art of HAIKU is so beloved.
That is all! Next, I plan to read 'The Festival of Margins.' I am looking forward to it.