|
Global
Haiku Tradition Megs
Lewis
|
|
When I first glimpsed the title Love Haiku, I thought I would be reading romantic poems. Silly me. This book does not glamorize love, rather the poems by Masajo take a look at the real nitty, gritty aspects of love. In this way, we get to know her for her honesty. She does not sugarcoat anything – ever. And so she should not: hers was a life filled with many losses. But then, most people who live to be 96 have survived their immediate family and friends. According to Susumu Takiguchi (no date listed), Masajo was born on November 24, 1906, and was the youngest of three daughters. When Masajo was only five years old, her 27 year old mother died. Two years later, her father remarried a woman who worked as a geisha and from what I have read, was a kind woman. In 1929, after a “passionate romance” (Takiguchi), Masajo married. Her first baby was still born, but she had another child, a daughter. Some gambling debts prompted her husband to run away in January of 1935 so her family decided her fate. She was to be returned to her family, while her daughter was to be handed over to her husband’s family. Later that year, her oldest sister, Ryu, died at the age of 33 leaving behind one boy, three girls and of course her husband, whom Masajo was forced to marry only four months after her sister’s death. She could not see her own daughter (then living out of town) because she was obliged to care for her nephew and nieces. All this sadness was not enough because she was to experience yet another loss; the following year, her father died. He was 62. It was around this time that she met and began having an affair with a naval officer who was seven years younger. He was also married and had a family. Thus began an affair that lasted forty years. In 1957, Masajo, then 50, finally left her marriage, moved to Tokyo and opened Unami (April Waves), a small pub. She died on March 14, 2003. Consider the following haiku from the book Love Haiku, obviously from her personal experience:
As noted above, Masajo’s first husband ran away to escape gambling debts and she was unhappy with her second husband. Here, she is making a statement, observing the truth and just writing it down. The haiku has no other information, just the facts. The last line suggests decay or a lack of life and is a just reflection of her first two lines. Adding nature into haiku is traditional Japanese form. But let’s take a closer look. This paper will discuss what appeals to me about Masajo’s haiku and what is unique about her and her writing. I wanted to write about her because I felt that there is enough material available to be able to research effectively; there are enough poems in Love Haiku to get a glimpse into what makes the author tick. Masajo uses seasonal elements in all her haiku; this is a traditional approach as noted above. What makes her writing unique is that she writes openly about a taboo subject: an affair with a married man. She is open and honest. Her haiku offer us a glimpse into her world. She does not hold back. She writes about the loneliness, the happiness and how she sees herself. She is also aware of those around her and how they see her. What I find so puzzling is the apparent contrast between submitting to traditional culture and customs (being forced to marry her sister’s husband) and denying them (following her own desire to have an affair. She seems to rebel within theconfines of tradition. Just as Masajo carved out her own life in a new way, she also imbued subjectivity into a theme that had been traditionally bound by objectivity. And so we see another contrast: the use of her personal writings of love with the traditional seasonal elements. Again, she seems to rebel within the confines of tradition. Her reference to the seasons shows us that she was in tune with them. Nature changes. Human beings change. These seemingly separate themes actually are so interconnected that it is impossible to see one without seeing the other. Masajo knew this well. With the above information in mind, let’s continue looking at this
We know from the notes in Love Haiku that usually an obi is tied and untied in a standing position. Here again, note that Masajo goes against the grain or the traditional way of doing things – and she is feeling fatigued with the struggle. I think that she has compared her life to the obi. She has lived her life in a different way and she unties her obi in a different way.
Here we see that Masajo is aware of how she affects others. She is independent and outspoken. She knows that others don’t approve of her; she takes it in stride but it still causes her sorrow. Because of this, Masajo uses the last line to reinforce that springtime, usually a cause for joy, now holds sorrow for her.
Again we see that Masajo was aware that others suffered because of her infidelity. I imagine that her summer kimono is thinner than one worn at other times of the year. The sheerness of the kimono says that others can see through her behavior or that all is out in the open. Still, Masajo remains true to herself and to her desire to be with her lover. She looks boldly at the truth. She has a love. That’s the truth. Others suffer because of it. That’s another truth. She doesn’t sugarcoat it or apologize or promise to change things; she just looks at things the way they are.
Masajo writes openly that because of her romance (fireflies are words used with romance), she has stepped off the virtuous path of monogamy. Again, she writes about the way things are. She shows not only her independent side but also her rebellious side and seems here to take responsibility for her actions. Fireflies light the way for her. Her romance is her path.
The words she uses for loneliness are autumn gale. She might be wishing to be overtaken by her lover or more likely, she misses him so much that the suffering of this solitary moment could be relieved by death (drowning in a wave). There is no indication that she sought to be free from her suffering through her own efforts as Basho did. Masajo wants the wave to take away her pain; Basho made efforts to end his suffering through enlightenment. He thought this was possible through detachment. He felt that man can live in the world as a “spiritual bystander” (Ueda, p. 34), smiling away the grievances of life. His writing reflected this attitude:
Here, nature envelopes all things within itself. Man must only surrender to nature. Basho believed that this was the way for man to be free from all suffering, including the loneliness depicted in Masajo’s poem above. Masajo wanted to die by being enveloped by nature (the wave). In contrast, Basho wanted to live by being enveloped by nature. Basho’s poem is not sentimental; Masajo’s is emotional. These two wonderful poems are so similar but the interpretations are different. Basho exhibits insight into his problem of suffering and this appeals to me. Masajo’s poem appeals to me because of its raw, in-your-face realism, but does not show that she has had an insight about another way to find happiness. Basho wanted to destroy the ego; Masajo’s poem seems to be saying that even though she wants to destroy her pain and loneliness, she just might destroy herself in the process. We get a little more insight into how Masajo sees herself in the following two poems:
Quenching thirst could mean drinking water but I think it means that she satisfies her sensual desires (also using water to put out the flames of desire), and in doing so has become a sinner. She compares herself to a fallen flower (lost its position in life or fell from grace). Notice the color, red, which is the color of a woman with loose morals. Even though these poems continue to serve as examples of Masajo’s technique of stating something without further explanation, we really get the point that she feels deeply about the subject. She says so much without using the words. We see her as the center of the poem; we might not identify with her but certainly we can relate to her message.
It was noted in the introduction that Masajo does not sugarcoat love. Here we see the real nitty, gritty love of every day. Love is not perfect. There are difficult times. And Masajo writes about one of those difficult times here. Does this sound like romantic, glamorous love? I think not. If we are to know ourselves and our beloved, we must look honestly at what is. Masajo is living her haiku in her love life. Her technique of taking one thing and isolating it so well applies to all her poems and extends to her examination of her own love experiences. “The crimson of the Japanese quince deepens as it gets wet with rain” (Gurga & Miyashita, p. 47). Here, Masajo says that with each painful experience, she becomes seasoned in love. She realizes that each experience of love contains its opposite and that it, too is love. A haiku with a happier tone is the following:
Again, the poem is simple and direct but says so much more. We can truly relate to a moment such as this. Obviously, Masajo makes a statement based on a moment of happiness. At that moment, her heart was filled with love and joy and she felt fulfilled. To feel the life in one’s heart can be an overwhelming experience. Many of the examples given so far are sadder in tone and I offer this one to demonstrate that Masajo’s abilities to write about emotions went beyond just the melancholy. She wrote with a wide range of emotions. Summer kimono sash works well here as a seasonal element because summer is the time when everything is filled up. Life in all its forms is visible. According to a Chinese expression as cited by Deepak Chopra (2003), “Spring flowers, summer breeze, autumn leaves, and winter snow: If you are totally tuned in, this is the best season of your life” (p. 285). How fitting is this expression to conclude a brief study of Masajo Suzuki! Masajo was in tune with the seasons. She honored the tradition and did it well. She was an expert at using seasonal expressions to compliment her work. But Masajo excelled in other technical expressions as well. This contemporary author held nothing back. We get all of her in her poetry: her good times, her loneliness, her honesty, her sadness, her self-depreciation, the world around her, her feelings of helplessness and strength – all of it – including love in all its forms. This sharing, this outpouring of emotion from an outspoken feminist rebel must have been appreciated by many readers throughout the years. But in today’s world of deceit, more than ever, her work should be appreciated and understood for its blatant honesty. Bibliography Brooks, R. (2004). IN350 Global Haiku Class, Millikin University, Decatur, IL Chopra,
D. (2003) The spontaneous fulfillment of desire. New
York, NY: Harmony Books Takiguchi,
S. (no date). Fire, beauty and haiku life, love and poetry
of Suzuki Masajo. World Takiguchi, S. (no date). Requiem for a poet – Suzuki Masajo (1906-2003) Last farewells to Masajo – A life of love and haiku. World Haiku Review. Retrieved July 1, 2004, from http://www.worldhaikureview.org/3-1/requiem_sm.shtml Ueda, M. (1970). Matsuo Basho. New York, NY: Kodansha America Inc. |
©2004 Randy Brooks, Millikin University, Decatur, Illinois || all rights reserved for original authors