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Book
review published in FROGPOND 27.1
by Carolyn Hall
Gurga,
Lee. Haiku: A Poet's Guide (Modern Haiku Press, Lincoln
IL 2003). ISBN 0-9741894-0-5. 170 pp., 5.5" x 8",
perfect softbound. $20 postpaid.
This
morning on "Car Talk" (the most widely broadcast
radio show in the U.S.) I heard Click and Clack, "the
Tappet Brothers," reciting car haiku submitted by listeners.
Some were quite amusing and clever. Our local newspaper
sometimes runs movie review haiku (the plot in three lines
and seventeen syllables). Haikus for Jews have made
the internet rounds, as have Zen-like computer error messages.
So it is no great surprise that Lee Gurga, distressed by
the proliferation of what he calls "pseudohaiku" (or zappai) begins the first chapter of this excellent
new book with an explanation of what haiku is not
(i.e., any short poem written in three lines comprised of
5 then 7 then 5 syllables).
One
might wish that a book on how to haiku would start with
what haiku is, rather than what it is not. And why
a novice might want to engage in this particular art form.
In the preface Gurga does, in fact, invite newcomers to
join in the fun. "[Haiku] can change the way we see
and think," he says. "It can even change the way
we live." (vii) But the opening chapter presents an
unembellished history of haiku from Basho to the present
and continues with a cursory overview of the basic elements
of haiku—perhaps at a level beyond the ken of the novice.
Poems are presented as examples of seasonal awareness before
introducing the idea of kigo, followed by classical
Japanese haiku in translation that (it seems to me) a novice
would be unlikely to comprehend.
But
do not be discouraged. All of this takes place in the first
twelve pages of the book. By page thirteen Gurga has hit
his stride, and the next 140 pages are chock full of useful
information, articulately presented and copiously illustrated. "A haiku is created from two ingredients," Gurga
says, "an experience and an expression of that experience
in words after it has passed through the poet's heart."
(141-2) In the long sections on "The Art of Haiku"
and "The Craft of Haiku" he expertly takes his
readers down the path that will lead to adroit expression
of experience.
Both
beginners and those who found their way by reading haiku
and related books and journals (educating themselves by
example, without benefit of instruction) will find this
book a welcome addition to their collections. Gurga himself
came up the "hard way." He picked up Blyth in
high school, fell in love with the subject matter, struggled
completely on his own for 20 years, till at last he found
Higginson's The Haiku Handbook.* Since then he has
come a very long way, indeed. With the recent passing of
Bob Spiess, Gurga assumed the mantle of editor of Modern
Haiku. He is in perfect position to pass on his wisdom
and guide young (metaphorically speaking) haiku poets.
The
strength of this book lies in Gurga's articulate definitions
and explication of the principal elements of haiku: form,
season, the haiku moment, the "cut" or caesura,
and internal comparison—as well as the various aspects
of haiku craft and aesthetics. Nowhere will you read a clearer
explanation of the differences between Japanese and English
with regard to the use of 5-7-5 syllables, or of Blyth's
2-3-2 stress form. Gurga borrows wisely and selectively
from the wisdom of Kuriyama, Yasuda, Henderson, Blyth, Higginson,
Spiess, and Robert Lowell. But there are more than enough
fresh insights to assume that Gurga, himself, will be quoted
in future books on the subject. To his credit, he has gone
to great lengths to provide an example from the current
canon of English-language haiku to illustrate each technique
he describes. (He has done his homework, collecting 195
poems by 126 contemporary poets.)
Repetition
is key in the acquisition of a new skill. Gurga's teaching
technique employs enough repetition to drive home the point,
but never feels redundant. A single idea may be approached
from several different angles or presented in several different
contexts. Using fictional examples of "bad" haiku
to make a point, as well as showing unsuccessful early drafts
of what turn out, in the end, to be fine haiku, a student
is taught how not to as well as how to haiku.
If you are like me, you may find yourself occasionally scratching
your head, trying to figure out how a particular haiku illustrates
a particular point. But those instances stand out by dint
of their rarity.
Gurga
has strongly held beliefs (such as the importance of season
words). "Season is the soul of haiku, as simple as
that." (24)
Because
it can link the experience of a single moment to the universal
forces of change and renewal, the seasonal reference .
. . enables the poet to invoke the whole of the natural
world with a single image. . . By relating a single instant
of time to the season in which it occurs, the poet can
suggest a mood that would otherwise be impossible to create
in so short a poem. (25)
As
may be expected, the importance and use of season words
is thoroughly examined and liberally illustrated with examples
of "explicit," "implied," and "indirect"
reference to season. But even in this firmly held belief
Gurga is open to expansion of the form. ". . . haiku
conventions such as the Japanese season word will surely
be objectionable to some," he writes. "They may
seem arbitrary and can lead to misuse and poetical ossification
. . . We Western poets may not find a use for specific culture-bound
Japanese terms, but must bow to the power of the seasonal
references in Japanese verse. We should develop a corpus
of season words of our own; it will make our haiku—and
our lives—richer."
Skillfully
and effectively juxtaposing images in haiku is an elusive
art, especially difficult for beginners, but often a stumbling
block for seasoned poets as well. The sections on juxtaposition,
internal comparison, and caesura, are particularly strong
and illustrate the various kinds of interaction between
images—echo, contrast, and expansion— as well
as the unexpected associations of images.
The
primary poetic technique of the haiku is the placing of
two or three images side by side without interpretation
. . . . A space is created between the images in which
the reader's emotions or understanding can lodge and grow.
(38-39)
Gurga
is at the top of his form when discussing simile and metaphor
in haiku. Re simile: "The genius of haiku . . . is
that it is about how things are rather than what they are
like." And "If a thing is like something else,
then best to talk about that other thing in the first place." (84)
The
subject of metaphor is, of course, more complicated. As
Gurga says, "The technique of juxtaposition inevitably
likens one thing to another or invites some comparison between
images. That counterpoised elements can be interpreted metaphorically
as well as literally adds depth and resonance to many of
the best haiku." (84) He warns, however, against figurative
language.
In
using figurative language, the poet does all the imaginative
leaping, leaving the reader nothing more to admire than
the poet's virtuosity. . . By presenting the scene without
interpretation—and all figurative language is interpretation—the
poet co-opts the reader into making the imaginative leap,
and, in the process, become a co-creator of the poetic
moment. This link between poet and reader dramatically
distinguishes haiku from other kinds of poetry." (50)
It
is not enough simply to record what one has seen (though
Gurga acknowledges that there are some who feel this is
the only way to write "genuine" haiku). The chapter
on "The Craft of Haiku" is replete with descriptions
and examples of the beneficial (or detrimental) application
of rhyme, alliteration, consonance, assonance, onomatopoeia,
and rhythm in haiku. I was pleased to find a section which
pays close attention to the importance of the look, and
particularly the sound, of haiku. . . confirming that Gurga
is of a mind that haiku is indeed poetry.
Because
the haiku was introduced to the West as a Zen art and
generally presents a single satori-like instant of awareness,
many would say that the poem itself must be written in
a instant of inspiration. This puts a premium on spontaeity
and insight and downplays the role of craft in writing.
Some would even go so far as to say that a haiku is not
a poem, but merely a brief record of awareness. The opposite
view is that a haiku is surely a poem and as such is subject
to evaluation by the same standards as any other poem.
This means that revision is as important a part of haiku
writing as it is for any other genre. (60)
The
look of haiku on the page is also given full attention,
with discussion of lineation, enjambment, titles, capitalization,
and five pages devoted to punctuation, as well as techniques
of Japanese poetry that can be applied to English-language
haiku (e.g., cutting words, pillow words, and pivot words
or swing lines.) The section on Haiku Grammar covers the
use of verbs, modifiers, articles and possessive pronouns.
The section on Poetic Devices again covers simile and metaphor,
unresolved metaphor and symbolism, synesthesia, personification
and the pathetic fallacy, and allusion. Gurga addresses
humor and wit and Basho's aesthetic principle of karumi or "lightness." ("Heaviness results from
the use of ponderous, clotted language that impresses the
reader into service rather than opens a window to experience."
[96]) There is a discussion of truth and poetic truth ("Falsification
occurs when the poet inserts preconceived notions into the
poem" [98]), accuracy, and freshness. There is enough
in this one chapter to engage a novice writer for months,
if not years. Seasoned writers will appreciate it not only
as a refresher course on haiku basics but also as an opportunity
to enjoy Gurga's clean prose and refreshing insights.
The
chapter on "Writing and Revising Haiku " is addressed
primarily to the beginner and presents a useful typology
of haiku (story in a sentence, cause and effect, context
and action, etc.) as well as guidelines for editing and
advice on publication.
It
is a tricky business deciding where to begin a book. If
you throw your reader headlong into the philosophical and
historical meat of the matter, will you scare off the more
timid comers? It is a possibility. But anyone who picks
this book off the bookshelf, or orders it because of its
title, has already shown an interest in haiku. The greater
fear, therefore, is that by presenting the mechanics of
haiku before establishing the mindset necessary to employ
them wisely may encourage newcomers to pen just the kind
of soulless haiku the author warns against. So if there
is one flaw in this book, it is the decision to leave to
the end the detailed history of haiku, as well as the thorny
question of whether the values of classical Japanese haiku
can be successfully exported to English and other languages.
Gurga maintains that it is as important today as in Basho's
time to embrace haiku aesthetics. Regarding contemporary
haiku: "Whatever its status as literature, haiku requires
a special state of mind, not necessarily Zen satori,
but a mindset that impels poets to go outside of themselves
to achieve an understanding of the 'suchness' or essence
of things." (128) Gurga reminds us early on that even
experienced poets are still "beginners," so for
them as well as novices, it would have been best, I think,
to begin at the beginning.
Having
said that, the penultimate chapters are both engaging and
informative.
Gurga
clearly agrees with Harold Henderson's* assessment that
haiku in English "cannot differ too much [from
Japanese haiku] and still be haiku." In Gurga's words,
"One may accept or reject [the aesthetic principles
that have informed the genre since the time of Basho], but
one's posture must be based on a knowledge of them."
(14) Toward that end, he spells out some of the aesthetic
principles which had infused literature in Japan by the
seventeenth century and which became a significant part
of the "Basho revolution" (and which, he says,
continue to make haiku a viable literary form today). Among
them are wabi and sabi, as well as hosomi ("slenderness") which "allows the poet to
paint the scene, then disappear" (126) and shibumi ("astringency") which "gives haiku its tang—the
flavor of persimmons rather than peaches." (126)
The
wabi ideal of loneliness and poverty, of standing
apart from the crowd, and the sabi appreciation
for what is undervalued and time-worn have made it possible
for haiku to be seen by some as a way of life or spiritual
quest, the 'way of haiku.'. . . Hosomi and karumi have helped mold haiku into a genre of poetry that is
capable of great depth but at the same time capable of
the restraint necessary to achieve this without overwhelming
the reader. . . . Pure perception allied with restrained
expression are the ideals upon which haiku is founded." (127)
Blyth*
identified thirteen characteristics of the state of mind
that is needed to create and appreciate the kind of Zen
haiku Basho wrote. Gurga revisits Blyth's Zen-based aesthetic
principles, illustrating them with the haiku of contemporary
English-language haiku poets. A few examples:
Loneliness:
casting
stones
into the ocean—
empty winter sky
— Stanford M Forrester
Freedom:
A
gust of wind—
the falling leaf
spirals upward
—Lori
Lambert-Smith
Materiality:
idle
summer day
sucking meat
from a fig
—Michael
McClintock
Whether
you believe there is, or is not, a relation between Zen
and haiku, these carefully chosen poems paired with Gurga's
succinct descriptions of the principles ("Real freedom is not doing what you want but wanting what you do," and "Materiality shows that the real truth is
in objects rather than in ideas") is, in my opinion,
one of the most instructive passages in the book.
In
the final chapters Gurga expresses his personal philosophy
and attitudes toward the writing of haiku and its potential
to "replace the ennui that dominates so much
of our culture."(142)
It
is in cultivating spiritually exalted states of mind .
. . that haiku offers us something that is available nowhere
else in our culture. . . . Haiku offers humankind some
alternative to the postmodern anthropocentric, narcissistic
culture of our times. (132)
Quoting
critic James Johnson Sweeney who says, "the only genuine
art contribution of any epoch is . . . one that supplies
what the epoch lacks," Gurga replies: "Haiku can
do that." (132)
The
book ends, appropriately, with a look ahead. Followed by
an extensive list of resources, including books; North American
and British haiku print journals (including editors' names
and addresses); online journals, other online resources,
and North American haiku organizations; as well as a useful
index.
There
is nothing else out there that is quite so accessible a
tutorial as Haiku: A Poet's Guide. For any and all
who have decided to venture into the haiku world, they would
be well advised to take this volume along on the journey.
*footnotes
1.
Higginson, William J., with Penny Harter. The Haiku Handbook:
How to Write, Share, and Teach Haiku. Tokyo: Kodansha,
1985.
2.
Henderson, Harold G. An Introduction to Haiku: An Anthology
of Poems and Poets from Basho to Shiki. Garden city,
NY: Doubleday Anchor, 1958.
3.
Blyth, R. H. Haiku. 4 vols. Tokyo: Hokuseido Press,
1949-52.
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Here
is the complete guide to writing haiku—from inspiration
and word-sketching in the field to the poem's final draft
on the page. A major American haiku poet, Lee Gurga, shows
what it takes to write a successful English-language haiku—a
genre only recently introduced into our literature and one
that is finding a rebirth in English. Like a laptop computer,
a haiku is a miracle of compression. Gurga reveals the layers
of meaning and emotion, and the philosophical and spiritual
implications, that lie in each of these short, concise,
suggestive, yet simple poems.