The
Other Side of the Coin:
Haiku
and the Harsh Realities
Peter Brady
For
many of us, our introduction to haiku was through such
masterpieces as Basho's frog pond or Issa's fly rubbing his
forelegs and back legs in a comic plea for mercy. These were light
poems, pleasing, uplifting and enjoyable. Consequently when we
began writing haiku, we chose the same subjects and strived to
achieve the same emotions. Based on this limited, one-sided view,
we gained a certain although limited expertise. However, we have
overlooked another and equally important aspect of haiku.
First
and foremost, haiku are intended to depict our life and our
interaction with the world around us. As well as the natural
beauty so often written of -- and which is mistakenly assumed to
be the only appropriate subject, haiku must include the
unpleasant, the harsh and downright ugly. There needs to be an
acknowledgment of the world as it is, not as we would like it to
be or as we think we remember it to have been. In other words, a
more open and more balanced approach.
Taoism
speaks of yin and yang and the constant shifting between the two
as we try to find the balance of the two poles. Psychologist C. G.
Jung makes much of the two facets of our personality, the light
and the dark. He discusses the tension between the two and the
need to acknowledge and to know both sides if we are to know
ourselves. Likewise, the world around us has two facets and it is
best to acknowledge and know them both. It is here we live, it is
here we should write, presenting both aspects – the bright and
beautiful and the dark and ugly.
No
one is continually surrounded by beauty. Television and newspapers
very frequently show the sensational, the lurid, the violent side
of the world. Often we also see car accidents and their aftermath,
or we experience pollution, such as smog, or simply the neighbor's
dog barking or howling in the middle of the night or a stereo
blaring loudly. These too are valid subjects for haiku.
From
a reading of Basho, Issa and other haiku poets in Japan and
elsewhere, it is clear that they had moments of heightened
awareness that included excrement and urine and wrote of them:
Fleas,
lice,
The horse pissing
Near my pillow
Basho
[trans. R.H. Blyth]
Ah!
The uguisu
Pooped on the rice-cakes
On the verandah
Basho
[trans. R.H. Blyth]
after
pissing
rinsing the hands...
hard winter rain
Issa
[trans. David G. Lanoue]
*
evening—
wiping horse shit off his hand
with a mum
Issa
[trans. David G. Lanoue]
*
A
stray cat
Excreting
In the winter garden
Shiki
[trans R.H. Blyth]
More
recent examples include haiku by the Balkan haiku poets who depict
their world in wartime:
the
waiting
for the bombers
prolongs our night
Dragan
J. Ristic
smoke
and fire --
near the destroyed home
cherries still in blossom
Vid
Vukasovic
Belgrade, Yugoslavia
*
way
to shelter --
someone's phone is ringing
and ringing...
Milenko
D. Cirovic-Ljuticki
Belgrade,Yugoslavia
*
too
early for sunrise
the horizon glows with the red
of burning villages
Ruzica
Mokos
Croatia
Takashi
Nonin has described his own experiences in World War II:
dead
quiet...
no signs of bombers -
going out for food
scorching
ground -
running to safety
naked and barefoot
The
world around us and our life in that world contains things and
people which we see as bothersome, irritating, upsetting,
terrifying and worse. Since these have been haiku moments for
others, all of these can be the same for us:
roadkill
the wake of passing cars
ruffles its fur
cut-off
to the abandoned death camp
its rails still shiny
mum
just dead
the neighbor's stereo
blaring
muggy
afternoon
the stink of garbage
put out for pick-up
(all
above four by Peter Brady)
In
all of the haiku cited above, the images elicit anger, outrage,
pathos, tears -- a wider range of emotions than joy or calm or a
nod of recognition at some pleasant memory. Again, both the
pleasant and the painful emotions should be explored and written
about; if we do not want to share these haiku with others, that is
our choice. However, what unpleasant emotions we experience should
be written down. If we are to leave an accurate record of our
world, these moments must be written down.
Often,
through exploring the darker facet we expand our viewpoint and
ultimately our vocabulary. This will expand our ability to write
and in the end will influence how we write all our haiku. We will
see more, we will feel more, and most important end we will write
more profound and perhaps better haiku.
As
when exploring anything new, there is the danger of being overly
enthusiastic. We embrace our new experience wholeheartedly and run
the risk of exaggerating or overstating. This is the reverse of
what makes a haiku. An extreme example of this can be seen in many
films which include gratuitous violence or sex or surfeit of
computer graphics which do nothing to advance the story line.
The
key to haiku is understatement when describing our experiences.
The animals, things, and people depict the moment and provoke the
reader to respond. Haiku touch each reader differently and the
less bias in each haiku opens it to a greater interpretation. By
the choice of details the reader is led in a certain direction;
but nothing more.
This
is so different to most Western poetry where the tradition is to
bare one's emotions, to hold back little, and to control the
reader's reaction through a plethora of words. Haiku, regardless
of subject, do the opposite. By maintaining an understated tone we
can present the uglier side of the world without praising or
condemning it. This will move a reader far more deeply than a
lengthy ode venting all our emotions.
As
mentioned earlier, Taoism preaches finding and maintaining the
balance in our lives. Though seldom found or maintained, it makes
life a continual effort to experience it. This striving allows us
to find the harmony between the two extremes and experience the
full range, the sweet, the bitter, the happy, the sad - all that
comprises life. If we write of the same topics, we have a tool to
explore the greater gamut that is our life.
