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Global
Haiku Tradition Ryan
M. Jones
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Yatsuka
Ishihara and How
should a haiku be formed? What is the role of nature in haiku
as opposed to human intuition? What is the role of the kigo
seasonal word? These questions drive at the core of the haiku
experience. In reality, there are many ideas on how to write
haiku. Some poets believe that a person should write what
they have directly experience; to do otherwise is to write
from the desk and not from a position immersed in the world.
Others believe in the "sketch" method pioneered
by Shiki in which the world is essentially copied as is; this
method is very similar to Zen notions of haiku that call for
the absence of human thoughts or feelings from a haiku. Basho
offered a variety of ideas as well, ranging from humorous
haiku-the word "haiku" means playful verse, after
all and was often humorous-to austere Zen haiku to haiku that
were more of a synthesis and which were designed to capture
a layered world. Yatsuka
Ishihara, a contemporary Japanese poet, believed that the
key to writing a good haiku was through his method of "introspective
shaping." This method contrasts the sketch and Zen methods
because it acknowledges and even requires the human intuition
that is present in all activities. Haiku do not spring from
the world to our pens to be written onto paper; instead, they
must pass through our minds, and even if we attempt to remove
our perspective, it is still there. For Ishihara, the reality
of this human perspective should be embraced. Introspective
shaping, after all, is a practice in which we use "haiku
glasses" to look into our hearts, where "the landscape
of truth exists." Kristen Demming in Red Fuji
writes that Ishihara wants "to bring human feeling and
thought into his haiku." She continues by saying that
introspective shaping means ... shaping the scenery of the
human mind." Kigo, seasonal words, are windows to the
mind, and as such, Ishihara believes that haiku poets should
not just see nature. Instead, they should be cognizant of
the reality that the trees, birds, rocks, and water that they
see is being viewed through the kigo window. "'Everything,"
Ishihara said, exists within the mind to begin with. In haiku
the subject is always 'I,' but the 'I' is implied, not directly
expressed. Whatever the subject, whether you, he, she, or
it, it is always I," (Red Fuji, 21-22) Thus,
haiku poets should embrace feeling, intuition, and the humor
of haiku. As Patrick Gallagher writes in his essay on Ishihara,
"What I believe Ishihara means is that haiku should be
more than inscriptions of natural scenes, that the best haiku
will go beyond and in a humorous way exaggerate the literal
truth." That is, they should be more than sketches, as
would be the method under the Zen poets. Humor is essential
for Ishihara 'in his haiku, and it is humor that is representative
of human intuition and presence within haiku. Humor exaggerates,
and for Ishihara, the best haiku are those that play with
reality, with the literal, and go beyond. As Ishihara said,
"Through the expression of truth with humor, a rich space
is created to enjoy a wider meaning. I think this is true
not only in Japan but in the West" (http://www.haijinx.com/II-1/articles/gallagher.html).
This
exaggeration—hyperbole can be seen in Ishihara's work
as well. It is indicative of his treatise: "tell about
the truth as if it were false." Instead of just reporting
the truth, just sketching it, we should instead bring our
perspective to bear on the truth, shape within, and find the
truth there. Thus we have haiku such as these two famous examples
of Ishihara's work:
In
both examples, we can see the effect of introspective shaping.
In the first example, we have the stellar images of light
coming from another world. A journalistic haiku in the sketch
method would stop there, just describing the pale fight of
Jupiter or Mars. Instead, Ishihara takes the ultimate step
by invoking the Milky Way. In this way, he exaggerates the
content of the haiku beyond simple observation-he has added
his own thinking to the matter. The second example is even
more pronounced. As he stirs the burning flowers (themselves
vivid haiku images), he imagines the fires of Hades in the
smaller flames he is tending. Hades is not a real place (at
least for those of us still living!) and its place in the
haiku is entirely due to internal thinking. There is a truth
there though in the hyperbole, and it's impact can be felt
in addition to the aesthetic feeling we get while reading
about the burning flowers. Again, we see the humor, the slight
grin or impish laugh, and the room that the humor creates
allowing us deeper and fuller understandings of the haiku. A
third example will more clearly show the human element, as
well as the hyperbole in his work:
The image of the somersaulting swing is very vivid and aesthetic-we see the swing violently swinging and jolting, as if in a great wind, but there is something beautiful about this image as well. Nature is seen in this sketch as the essence which causes the swing to move. However, when the first portion of this haiku is added, we find the human connection. It is the death of his beloved master TatsuJi that causes the swing to somersault—Ishihara is hit with the news of the death or perhaps the realization, and he finds himself blown about like a somersaulting swing in the wind. Ishihara is not the subject of this haiku, but he is present, and he makes no effort to remove his presence. Instead, his presence is implied in the movement of the swing, which also signifies his powerful and strong emotion towards hearing his master had died. And finally, hyperbole is found in the word somersaults-it seems a bit too much, a bit unreal, since it is plural and therefore means it is happening again and again. This, however, is a more subtle use of hyperbole and humor than the previous two examples. Now,
for comparison, I will evaluate three haiku in terms of their
Zen and natural characteristics, followed by an explanation
of the introspective shaping used in them.
Blossoms is the kigo word in this poem, and it invokes images of spring. A scent fink is present between the feeling of being weighted down with blossoms and napping under the blossoms. Weight is present in both cases, as expressed and implied in words like "tumbling" and "avalanche." A content link is also found with the continuation of the blossoms. We find a pleasant juxtaposition in this haiku between the weight of an avalanche-the use of hyperbole—and the softness and lightness of cherry blossoms. In terms of Zen, the haiku is wordless, and contains suchness—the reality of the blossoms falling on a spring day in large numbers could seem to be an avalanche-but is not selfless, as the human connection is clearly shown. It is here, in this last line, that we find more of the introspective shaping. The word "seem" implies perspective on the part of the author, and suddenly, we see a writer composing this haiku as the blossoms fall about him. The overall effect of the haiku, that of weight and its juxtaposition with lightness of blossoms, would not be as pronounced without the introspective shaping as we would only be describing something that was seen and would not feel the weight as we are made to do with the last line. The
second example is also a splendid haiku.
In terms of Zen, this poem is excellent—it is not wordy, it is simple, it describes a scene just as it is, and the image of the lanterns and the dark sky convey images of stars that imply a oneness of the universe. It is a clean and vivid image. But we have the added significance again of the introspective shaping. The lanterns are being used for a festival honoring the dead; now, they are floating away, much as the souls of the dead are returning to the deep, dark heavens after the festival. Here again, we find the humor in the moment, that added recognition and understanding given to us by the shaping. By putting this haiku through the scrutiny of internal thought, we find new truths in it than we would find in plan description. The image itself is magnificent; the added meaning given to the poem by the shaping and context makes it even more delicious. And
now we have the third example.
This
haiku again has many Zen characteristics. It is simple, wordless,
nothing special-as it describes an event that could happen
easily—and it describes the situation just as it is.
I see a scent link here as well—we see the image of the
person bumped against the confession booth, and we might think
this person is religious. However, the end of the year is
also here, the last line tells us, and that is usually a time
of revaluation of lifestyles and lives in preparation for
the coming new year. The bumping then takes on a new feeling
here, as if it was meant to be or as if there is guilt surrounding
the experience. It almost seems as if the person has not been
to confession for a while. Again, we see these human layers
on the poem because of the shaping. Any other time of the
year would not invoke these images, and a sketch could easily
not focus on the kigo of the end of the year. However, with
the shaping, we feel this haiku even more poignantly than
we would if another time period was used or the haiku was
not shaped. We find humor in the incident and then the deeper
understanding and irony of bumping into a confessional booth
near the end of the year when values are being reconsidered
anyway. Actually, another scent link can be seen between the
shaping itself and human quality of confession. Human perspective
makes this haiku work; without it, it would be dry and clinical. It
is very clear that Ishihara regards human insight and experience
valuable to haiku writing. Even though the 'I' is not the
subject of the haiku, it is implied, and it is implied because
of the shaping required to form the haiku. By acknowledging
the 'I', Ishihara helps readers understand haiku by prodding
them to see the haiku from their own perspective, just as
we should do. We put ourselves into the haiku, and introspective
shaping, therefore, is a lucid way to achieve this objective
of haiku. Thus, we find a new take on the questions regarding
the human role in haiku and the difference between haiku and
senryu. A question remains: how far can human emotions seep
into the haiku poem? Another
example shows the prominence of introspective shaping and
challenges the traditional notion of haiku. This haiku goes
further, beyond conventional thinking, into a realm of greater
understanding through its juxtaposition.
This
haiku utilizes a kigo about mid summer in Arctic and Antarctic
regions where the sun does not set. A poem could be written
simply about this experience that expresses the presence of
a white night or the insomnia it causes. Instead, Ishihara
gets to the instability these nights cause in a person's psyche-he
invokes the familiar image of the white-faced individual screaming
in Munch's famous painting. A scent link is found there in
the color white, and it continues with the insomnia of the
white nights and the horror/madness of the individual who
is screaming in Munch's painting. Munch's work is unsettling,
and we feel unsettled by the face, by the white nights, by
being trapped there on a sailing ship with no way to escape
the light.
This
poem clearly shows the hyperbole concept key to Ishihara's
poetry. He exaggerates, almost humorously, the effect of the
wind blowing against a person's face as something that can
stick to a face in some sticky white substance. Now, we know
that this is not a real situation. Perhaps, there is dust
in the air, or some other substance, but a literal reading
of this poem leaves us feeling unfinished confused. This is
where the hyperbole comes in-the wind is interacting with
the author, and it is sticking to him. Human perspective and
intuition have now entered, and we wonder why the wind is
sticking to the person in something white. How can a wind
stick to someone's face? Clearly, this is not possible, but
when viewed through the shaping method, we find deeper meaning
and ask questions relevant to the haiku.
This poem is a clever example of his work. A word link between the baby carriage and baby's breath could lead us, on first reading, to assume that the season is winter and that we are seeing the shifting steamy breath of a baby on a cold day. However, this same link can instead be read to be one between a baby and the plant baby's breath that is shifting in a breeze, meaning we are in spring or summer. There is also a scent link between the concepts of the first line to the break of the second line and then from that break to the conclusion in the motion of both the carriage and the steamy breath or plant. I see animation in this haiku, not exaggeration, and this is an example of a play on words that adds greater meaning to his haiku and more opportunities for finding meaning. "Writing haiku is a process of knowing yourself better. You will know your true self by reading your own haiku. Compose haiku, then read them, and you will know who you are," Ishihara said in Red Fuji, pages 21-22. He continued: "It usually takes about fives years for a haiku beginner to really understand that you don't cling to poetry expression, but you should go straight to the kigo concept. Through kigo, you look inside yourself. Trust yourself to the kigo." It
is fitting, then, to conclude briefly with examples from Ishihara's
work that places prominence on the kigo. Examples include
In
the first example, the kigo is the tree frog (and possibly
the yam), a summer seasonal word. This is clearly a humorous
haiku, as it would be a delight and worth a laugh if while
digging yams a tree frog jumped onto one that a person was
holding. In contrast, the second example is more ephemeral
and soft, more Zen in its approach. The words are simple and
seem to be devoid of humor. Instead, we see the seen simply,
clearly: the autumn butterfly (the seasonal word) over a lake
catching light. This is a very simple poem described just
as it is, the concept of suchness in Zen haiku. The final
example contrasts the other two. In it, we more clearly see
his feelings again, just as we did with the haiku about the
somersaulting swing. "Dried up" is actually the
seasonal word in this haiku, eliciting a sense of a barren
winter. Ishihara seems to be containing his rage as a dried,
crusty remnant of an insect in his chest. It is not flowering,
bursting forth anymore. This is a bitter, lonely poem. Together,
these poems show the breadth of his work in many ways-we see
humor, intense description, powerful feeling, and the use
of his beloved introspective shaping. Ishihara's philosophy on haiku is fresh and worth further exploration. Not simply satisfied with detached writing about the world in the journalistic sketch method, Ishihara believes that we must bring our intuition to bear and find the meaning of things within ourselves. This is a very profound concept that points to his recognition that we cannot escape our senses and our own thinking, and, ultimately, all we perceive is colored by our own perspective. In true haiku form, however, Ishihara did not become discouraged by this reality. Instead, he used humor and hyperbole as vehicles to take his haiku a step further than other haiku so that they stood out and offered the opportunity for a richer, deeper experience that wasn't solely based on description and the experiences of the reader. It is there, in the confluence of humor, hyperbole, description, and intuition, that haiku are born, and it is in this confluence that Ishihara. believes we will find the truth we are searching for in writing haiku-the truth about ourselves.
—Ryan Jones |
©2003 Randy Brooks, Millikin University, Decatur, Illinois || all rights reserved for original authors