Haiku Author Study – Caroline Gourlay

Caroline Gourlay was born in London but has lived most of her life on the Welsh Border. She states that she has written poetry most of her life with sometimes more, sometimes less, success (personal communication, February 4, 2009). In 1994, she joined the British Haiku Society and has been involved in the haiku world ever since.

I questioned Caroline on where she obtains her inspiration for her haiku. She answered in the following manner:

I obtain my inspiration through the natural world. I believe that we are all born with a spiritual awareness. I practice meditation and mindfulness because I want to develop a greater understanding of who I really am. It seems to me that practicing living in the moment, as far as it is possible, brings with it a sense of wholeness and freedom because it helps us move beyond the conditioned reflexes of our isolated egos. For me the writing of haiku is a quest to experience and demonstrate this oneness. The wish to write one really good haiku and the thought that one day I might, keeps me at it (personal communication, February 4, 2009).

When one is reading Caroline’s haiku you experience the natural world through her eyes over and over again. Here are four haiku that demonstrate this point.

sinking sun
taking the mountain
with it

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 13

last few miles
clouds carried—
by the river

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 29

harvest finished—
the empty field fills
with moonlight

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 37

autumn wedding
the dull sky
whiter in the lake

     Gourlay, Through the Café Door, page 27

The first thing I noticed when I read Caroline Gourlay’s haiku was the way she used her words. She writes simply but beautifully. She doesn’t use long phrases or words that are hard to understand. I believe that anyone could read one of her haiku and understand it immediately. As a novice haiku author, I was curious as to whether her haiku come easily to her or if she really has to work one over for a long time, and this was her answer:

Sometimes haiku come easily, or seem to, but when I read them later these haiku often turn out to be less satisfactory than those that have taken more effort. I don’t think I have ever published a haiku that came straight out of my head and on to the page, needing no subsequent adjustment even if it is only minimal; there isn’t a single one that hasn’t needed tweaking. Sometimes I work for months on a haiku; maybe ‘work’ isn’t the right word, but I have to keep coming back to it till I know it’s OK and often the most productive times of writing come after a very arid period when nothing seems to work and it all seems very pointless (personal communication, February 4, 2009).

I have chosen eight of Caroline Gourlay’s haiku for my response paragraphs.

log fire—
turning in the flames
my watched thoughts

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 11

One of my most favorite past times is to sit in front of a fire and watch it. I love to sit and stare into the flames and just let my mind wander wherever it may take me. It is also fun to look at the shapes that the flames produce and try and guess what they look like. I like how Caroline worded this haiku. It is like her thoughts were twisting in her mind and she related this to the way the flames also turn and twist in a fire.

all those things
I wish now I’d ask you—
snow falling

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 12

This haiku reminded me of two things that have happened in my life. First of all, it reminded me of my Grandma Oleta. She developed Alzheimer’s disease a few years before her death. There were so many times after Alzheimer’s had diminished her mind that I thought of things I wish I had asked her and written down. For example, a recipe for her rhubarb pinwheels that she never needed to write down because she had it memorized or family history questions. Second of all, this haiku reminded me of my niece Britney who passed away unexpectedly in October of last year. I wish I would have known that when I had seen her a few months earlier that it was the last time we would meet on earth. I can think of a hundred things I would have loved to ask her at that time.

newborn baby
fragile as eggshell
the blue sky

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 24

As a mother I thought of my two sons when I read this haiku. Even though they are 23 and 18 it seems like they were only newborns yesterday. I remember how fragile and delicate they seemed to be when we first brought them home from the hospital. I remember my mother saying that you had to be careful of their soft spots in their skulls as the covering was thin. I used to love watching their soft spots in their skulls move up and down with each beat of their heart.

your tirade—
steam rises from the
coffee cup

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 26

I think that the phrase, steam rises from the, is a pillow phrase. Was the steam rising up from the coffee cup or was the steam rising up from the heated words in the tirade? Personally, I have been on the receiving end of both and much prefer steam rising up from a coffee cup.

wanting to see
round the next corner
I turn the page

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 34

I thought that this was a fun haiku. I love to read and it reminded me of being engrossed in a really good book. You just can’t wait to read the page you are on because you want to see what lies ahead. I like how she compares turning a page to seeing what is around the next corner.

leaving the concert hall
the last note
last note

     Gourlay, Through the Café Door, page 10

At first when I read this haiku I thought of leaving a really loud concert such as a rock concert. Because of the noise, your ears ring for awhile after the concert. I thought this might be what Caroline Gourlay was referring to when she repeated the last note twice. But then I reread it and saw that she said concert hall, so I revised my thinking. I think she was talking about a wonderful concert where after you leave you keep hearing a certain melody or song in your head that repeats itself over and over. You didn’t want it to end thus repeating the last note over and over.

free afternoon
taste
of a shared apple

     Gourlay, Through the Café Door, page 12

I could almost taste a crisp tart fresh apple when I read this haiku. I thought of a chilly fall day with a free afternoon with a friend or loved one. You may visit an orchard or maybe you have an apple tree of your own. Nothing tastes as good as picking fresh fruit right off of the tree and taking a big bite.

dark night
quiet after the storm
your breathing

     Gourlay, Through the Café Door, page 25

I thought about a summer storm we had last summer and our power went out. It was out for several hours. While the storm was going on I didn’t notice the quiet, but after it had stopped, it seemed like all the sounds were magnified especially my husband’s snoring. It was also very dark due to no power lights outside being on.

I came across a haiku written by Caroline Gourlay and it reminded me of another haiku that I had read in the Millikin University Anthology.

winter chill—
catching the look
in your eye

    Gourlay, Lull before dark, page 14

your eyes
after the argument
heat lightning

     Angie Hawk, Millikin University Anthology, page 23

Both of these haiku speak of either an argument or someone unhappy with someone else. They both talk about the eyes which have been likened to mirrors of the soul. I love how both Gourlay and Hawk relate the look in the eyes to nature and also temperatures – winter chill, heat lightning. I think that in Gourlay’s haiku the unhappy party is just giving a cold stare and in Hawk’s haiku those upset eyes are snapping and blinking rapidly. I really like both of these haiku.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Caroline Gourlay’s haiku. She is a wonderful talented lady who has a unique haiku style. In the research of this paper I emailed her and to my surprise received a reply back within twenty-four hours. I found her to be very helpful and a very gracious lady. She not only answered the questions that I had presented but took the time to really go in depth to help me understand where her thoughts and ideas come from. She asked about my haiku and seemed genuinely interested. She also offered to send me an earlier book that she had written which contains some of her haiku for free. I thought that was very sweet, and I look forward to reading it and corresponding with her in the near future.

Works Cited

Gourlay, Caroline (2000). Through the Café Door. Snapshot Press.

Gourlay, Caroline (2005). Lull before Dark. Brooks Books.

Hawk, Angie (2008). Millikin University Haiku Anthology (page 23). Bronze Man Books.