Cor van den Heuvel's Haiku on “Boys” and “Nature”
by Ben Brawner
Fleeting adolescence is one exponentially uncomfortable time in a growing man’s life. It is the slow, torturous trudge through ravaging hormones and a body that never seems to truly cooperate. All the while, all we men want to do is find something or someone that helps to return life to simplicity. In his collection of haibun memoir, A Boy’s Seasons, Cor van den Heuvel throws his poetic perspective back in time in order to observe and reflect on that pervasively awkward period. Heuvel succeeds tremendously in balancing and connecting the simple pleasures of boyhood with the incoming discoveries of becoming a young adult. Through his haiku, Heuvel illuminates the evolution of a young man, who now in addition to his own interests, finds himself immersed in more adult concepts: love, loss, and war.
Perhaps it’s Heuvel’s own reflection on the origin of haiku that presents him as more than apt to take on this challenge. “Any of us can have [a haiku moment] if we see or hear something so vividly and clearly that we have a feeling of unity, or oneness, with it, and by extension with Nature itself,” (Heuvel, 2010, p. xvi). What’s interesting is that “coming of age” is certainly not a time when a man or woman has any sense of control or “unity.” However, that lack of balance or even the utter embarrassment of puberty is so “vividly and clearly” engrained in our minds that we have achieved “oneness.” Additionally, by observing and reflecting on this period one can certainly find unity with “Nature,” as they are “by extension” finding unity with their own nature.
Of course, Heuvel also invokes true “Nature” by directly correlating the “seasons” with coming of age. This offers both Heuvel and the reader the ability to track the subject’s subtle transformation, while we also observe the timely change of the seasons. Likewise it invokes the perpetuity of growing up. For as the seasons eternally cycle through, there will always be boys growing into men. In the meantime, however, it’s alright to live in the moment and allow those seasons to entreat one’s self to the simpler things.
he throws a snowball
at the girl he has a crush on
—but softly
(Heuvel, ABS, 124)
This poem, which pulls both from winter and Valentine’s Day, represents a perfect blend between the pleasures of boyhood and the subtle discoveries of blossoming puberty. I remember being a kid and just wailing on my sister with snowballs. Meanwhile, today I would have a difficult time throwing anything anywhere near the direction of a girl. However, back then it didn’t matter. My sister was only one year older than me, and at our age, we were practically genderless.
It isn’t until the hormones kick in that men start to recognize the difference in the sexes and then relatively change their behavior. The subject of this poem is just starting to realize that difference. He isn’t yet to the point where he doesn’t throw anything at girls, but he sure knows that he can’t whip a snowball at them.
after the party
changing the initials in the heart
carved on my desk
(Heuvel, ABS, 130)
Another Valentine’s Day inspired haiku paints a beautiful image about the short-lived romances of adolescence. I can just imagine a boy moving his pencil rapidly across an old wooden desk as he changes the “R” for Rachel to a “B” for Beth. Meanwhile, thinking about the repetitiveness of the seasons causes me to believe that there are plenty of other hearts deeply branded all across its frame; this would connect to that idea of the eternal coming of age. This presents a humorous irony, meanwhile, as early-school relationships very seldom experience longevity.
Christmas morning
a new baseball glove
under the tree
(Heuvel, ABS, 176)
In my observation, this lovely haiku does the most remarkable job in representing the purity of boyhood. There is no strife, and there is no confusion. The haiku paints a postcard of an image, as a boy, surrounded by his family celebrating together, is united ceremoniously with a glove for a sport that he loves. I see a young boy sneaking downstairs before the sun has even risen. He pokes his head toward the Christmas true whose red and green ornaments still sparkle. I can just imagine his lips immediately curl up the second he catches a peak of a unworn brown leather glove.
cool salt air
the merry-go-round whirls
in the candied apples
(Heuvel, ABS, 34)
It is quite a coincidence that I am able to connect to this haiku quite directly. In the proceeding haibun, Heuvel presents the boy’s travels through Old Orchard Beach, Maine. It is odd that in a section of his work highlighted by summer would take place on the beach where I spent every summer through my childhood. The haiku itself is a twist of colors, flavor, and excitement. However, what keeps it smooth and in control is the calming setting of the “cool salt air.”
summer afternoon
the long fly ball to center field
takes its time
(Heuvel, ABS, 6)
The summer seems to freeze in time for this haiku. The batter has hit the ball so tremendously hard, that all the fielders stand still; they know they don’t have any chance at it. In this “still world,” meanwhile, the batter calmly trots around the bases, assured of the homerun the instant he felt the bat make contact. As it relates to the boy, the preceding haibun discusses the relation of a haiku poet to “the first plum blossom flowering in a still snowy landscape” and young men to baseballs (Heuvel, 2010, 5). They’re both sacred.
far down field
the punt bounces in and out
of long afternoon shadows
(Heuvel, ABS, 54)
There is such a sharp image and motion to this haiku. It initially creates distance with the first line, but then quickly focuses on the shaded image of a football hopping in and out of the light. I imagine the sun is just beginning to set, but the boys continue to play and play until there is no more light on the field.
The image Heuvel invokes in the last line seems almost reminiscent to German Expressionism with a focus on dark patterns and shading. I would even say that the field appears almost other-worldly.
the Monopoly game ends
with a robbery of the bank
and scattered houses
(Heuvel, ABS, 100)
I personally found this to be the most humorous of Heuvel’s haiku. It alludes to a game of Monopoly that was ended by a tirade (and probably cheating referencing “with a robbery of the bank) that ended with a player (probably the boy) knocking off the pieces on the board. It is also interesting that the haiku actually sheds boyhood in a somewhat negative light, when the rest of the collection focuses on the hardships of growing up.
collecting scrap metal
Boy Scouts in a big truck
shout war slogans
(Heuvel, ABS, 109)
This haiku features the best example of the mid-Twentieth Century setting that Heuvel invokes in his collection. Boy Scouts, who are still too young to go to war, collect materials that can help on the war front. Retrospectively, it’s tragic that young boys must be exposed to growing up in wartime; but for that generation, that was a moment of pure and positive nationalism. For those boys on the truck, that is their contribution to the country they love, until they are allowed to go off to war themselves.
standing on one foot
the bareback rider rides her horse
into my dreams
(Heuvel, ABS, 51)
In the haibun preceding this lovely haiku, Heuvel describes a trip to the circus that seems more like a fantasy. Throughout the excitement, the boy can’t help but look out at the beautiful woman riding their horses bareback. As it relates to the first line of the haiku, I can’t help but imagine that while the rider manages to balance on the horse on one foot, the boy is hopping on one leg in order to keep sight of her over the crowd. It’s such a relatable haiku, because that is the age in which fantasies (and especially sexual fantasies) do truly start to drive home a point in a boy’s mind. My personal interest in the haiku stems from the fact that the boy is fantasizing over such an unusual medium.
picking up a book
for the girl next to him
the boy gets razzed
(Heuvel, ABS, 122)
To speak honestly, there is no better way to begin discussing this haiku than to pull directly from its connecting haibun: “Since first recognizing that there was another sex, a boy’s feelings swung from being attracted to, to feeling indifferent to, to actively disliking that sex’s most immediate representatives: girls,” (Heuvel, 2010, p. 122). This haiku does a splendid job at illuminating young attraction, while also showing the soft-cruelty of youth. The boy performs a courteous gesture for a young lady, and is then teased by all the boys around him. What the haiku is communicating is that finding maturity in adolescence is difficult when one’s surrounding environment remains static.
Works Cited
Heuvel, Cor Van Den. A Boy's Seasons: Haibun Memoirs. Portsmouth, NH: Single Island, 2010. Print. |
