Those who are
familiar with Japan's literary history will already know that women have
historically and nationally enjoyed reputations as major writers and innovators.
The
Manyoshu and other classic collections of poetry contain substantial
works by women. Sei Shonagon's Pillow Book is a classic, and Lady
Murasaki's eleventh-century masterpiece, The Tale of Genji, is considered
to be the first great novel in world literature. While haiku was yet considered
a man's art, Kaga
no Chiyo, or Chiyo-ni, who studied under haiku masters apprenticed to Basho,
is regarded as one of Japan's greatest haiku poets. Because of the prominence of
these early writers, it may not have been immediately apparent as the status of
women's writing actually began a decline which continued into the Meiji period.
Beginning
in about 1911 [Meiji 44], a feminist uprising would impact the proletarian
literary movement of the 1920s. Afterward, war with China and World War II
generated further cultural changes. Literary publications began opening
submissions to women writers as male editors began to open doors, promoting to
women. New women's journals also appeared on the scene. As Japan began to
modernise, women were regularly producing and publishing works of excellence. In
those extraordinary times, a substantial number of exceptional female poets
shine forth.
We
are pleased to feature Hashimoto Takako, one such outstanding poet of the modern
era. Following the article, be sure to visit and enjoy the page
of Takako's haiku translated by Eiko Yachimoto.
Toward
the Starry Sky
the haiku of Hashimoto Takako (1899 - 1963)
Debra
Woolard Bender
with Eiko Yachimoto
iwashigumo
tabi o wasure ni shi wa arazu
[Hashimoto
Takako and hereafter unless specified]
Mackerel sky, must I admit
a journey carelessly forgotten?
Mackerel
clouds...
my plans for a journey carelessly
forgotten.
[English-language
haiku versions by D.W. Bender and hereafter]
Putting
away her familiar koto,
the young bride-to-be prepared herself for marriage. Throughout her growing-up
years she had practiced toward mastery of the Japanese zither-like musical
instrument, often described as a "horizontal harp". For private
reasons, she would not play the koto
from that day throughout her married life.
Tama
lived with her mother in Hongo, the Shitamachi district of Tokyo which, since
the Edo period, was recognized for its friendly, down-to-earth community. As a
talented granddaughter of the head of the respected Yamada Koto School, it had
been expected that Tama would one day secede her grandfather, but when she was
12 years old [1911/Meiji 44], her father died. Tama continued her music practice
but as the fates would have it, after graduation from school, instead of
following in the footsteps of her grandfather, she became engaged to a man ten
years her senior. Her fiancée was the second son of a successful and wealthy
president of an Osaka construction company.
According
to author and essayist, Keiko Taniguchi, there was an unsubstantiated rumour
that Tama-chan's mother had consented to the marriage of her eldest daughter for
financial benefit during a time of urgent need. As the mother gave up her child
with the dreams of a musical future, so
Tama gave up her koto just before the wedding and accepted a change of her
given name to Takako (Having
"-ko" at the end of the name was considered to be a "touch of
class" in those days).
Could it be that Tama sensed a need to to forge a new identity for herself, and
that these acts may have been symbolic of her acceptance and resolve? Whatever
her reasons, the bride-to-be quietly sealed her past and would not touch on the
subject.
sômisete
seiya no kashi o kiri wakatsu
When
the Christmas Eve cake is sliced,
divided -- cross sections are revealed.
Christmas
Eve cake;
layers appear when cut
and divided.
In
1917 [Taisho 6], marriage to Hashimoto
Toyojiro [1888-1937/Meiji 21 - Showa 12) took Takako from her family home in
Tokyo to the Kyushu island town of Ogura. There, her husband opened a branch
office of his family's construction company. Toyojiro had spent several years in
the U.S. studying and working in the construction industry in his bachelor days.
The groom designed and built a love nest for himself and his new bride, a villa
overlooking Kokura Kita Ku Nakai beach. The fashionable three
story blue and white English-style picturebook villa was set into a
mountainside, thick with foliage, where eucalyptus and camellia grow wild. A
large gate opened onto the property's shady road. Gardens surrounded the ranch,
replete with fruit and nut orchards, tennis court and a stage. A stained glass
window beneath peaked gables made a magical scene behind the balcony, where
music from a player piano would escape to make melody with the tide-sounds of
the sea. Stone steps from the promontory led resident and visitor to the
white-sand beach below. The board and batten Tudoresque villa was the
realization and picture of its romantic owner's dreams; it is said that
Toyojiro's ideal wife would be one who would behave like an English lady. The
architect had won a lovely young wife, and the house was a grand celebration of
their marriage. The Hashimoto family would live in their mountain villa from
1920 until 1929 [Taisho 9-Showa 4].
kiri
no naka higurashi naku o ake to suru
From
inside fog to the cicada's call
........................dawn
arrives and passes through.
Within
the mist,
on cicada song
dawn is realised.
Takako
found herself in a marriage which would be envied and admired by others. Her
loving, magnanimous husband supported and encouraged her cultural interests.
Matsumoto Seicho, a popular novelist from Ogura, wrote of seeing the couple when
he was a lad. To his young eyes, the Hashimoto's seemed like Hollywood movie
stars as he observed them getting into their car at a time when a very few
wealthy people could afford owning a vehicle.
The
couple's home, "Rozan-so",
soon came to represent Ogura as Kitakyushu's cultural salon. Artists, performers
and writers were invited to the Hashimoto's home where they were entertained,
encouraged and supported. Toyojiro, a gentleman with a love of the arts, became
a founder of the Ogura Children's Art Association. The regional emergence of
several major women haiku poets, one being Sugita
Hisajo, reflect the era's spreading cultural changes. In fact, an important
haiku meeting and ginko was to take place on the island on March 25, 1922
[Taisho 11]. Local haijin, Sugita
Hisajo and Dr. Ota
Tohaku,
a pediatrician, made arrangements for the event to be hosted at the Hashimoto's
home. Hototogisu's
famous director, Kyoshi
Takahama, arrived to lead this historic event which would have future impact
on haiku.
ochi
tsubaki nagete danro no hi no ueni
Kyoshi
A
camellia fallen from the mantle,
now cast into the flame.
A
fallen camellia,
cast from the hearth
into the flame.
|
The
island's springtime weather would have been brisk for a ginko, sometime
near the annual Camellia Matsuri (Camellia Festival). Later, the as the
fireplace blazed, warming the guests assembled in the parlour, Takahama Kyoshi
led the haiku discussion. As he spoke, a red camellia, possibly from the
Hashimoto's gardens, fell from a vase to the hearth.
When Takako picked up and cast the bloom onto the fire, the instance was not
overlooked by Kyoshi (then, 49 years of age), as he captured the gesture in
haiku.
What
else did Kyoshi gather within his choice of words, not immediately seen or
stated directly? Why did Takako throw the camellia blossom into the fire instead
of putting it back in the vase, or on a table? Was it a dramatic or simple
gesture? Are there implied comparisons, meanings or relationships between the
red camellia and fire? Is there a play of words in danro no hi (fire of
the hearth) with danron (discussion)? Or is it simply an outline-sketch
of the moment with no implied shades of meaning?
Camellia
have many cultural associations. The bushes grow wild on the hills where Takako
lived. Sacred to Buddhists, they are often planted around temples and in shrine
gardens and can symbolise degrees of deliverance.
Also symbolising fair play, faithfulness and valour, the flower was favoured by
samurai. The stems are generally short, and when the blossom is ready to fall,
the whole head drops heavily from its stem to the ground with a thud, and in
this, is associated with death. (Since the whole bloom leaves the stem, it of
course, could not be put back in the vase). To
further insight, Eiko Yachimoto writes that for most Japanese,
something that has fallen to the ground is not suitable for being displayed on a
table.
A
primary kigo (season word), camellia heralds winter's end, the beginning of
spring, new life. For
Takako, who had once put put away her koto and girlhood dreams to embark on her
new role as a wife, this now famous meeting of haiku poets brought another new
beginning. Her inner poet was newly awakened to haiku, subsequently transforming
her life. She is said to have been inspired by Kyoshi, and the master's haiku
became a model. Surely this haiku borne of their first meeting has led to many danron-fuuhatsu
(spirited discussions). [dwb] |
Noting
her interest, Toyojiro recommended his wife learn haiku from Sugita
Hisajo. And so, it was at the Ogura mountain villa that Takako, at the age
of 22, was initiated into the study and writing of haiku. As a disciple of
Hisajo, she would be first among modern Japanese women to be mentored by another
woman in haiku. She would prove to be an apt and talented pupil, crafting her
poetry and calligraphy with fine beauty. As a sharply focused artist and
teacher, Hisajo had an enormous and positive influence on Takako's haiku. Her
relationship with Hisajo, however, was somewhat troubled and ambiguous. The more
his wife grew skilled and recognized for her composition, the less Toyojiro
extended his encouragement, even
insisting at one point that Hisajo not visit their
home at all. This caused considerable distress for Hisajo, who wrote the
following haiku about the experience:
ware ni tsuki
ishi satan hanarenu manjushage
Satan sticks to
me
and won't leave --
red spider lilies
[translation by
Eiko Yachimoto
published in World
Haiku Review, Vol 1, Issue 3]
On the other
hand, one of Takako's daughters recalls
sympathising with her mother who, afterward, was not able to attend ginko
as often as she would wish. Recognizing
Hisajo's contribution as her first teacher, Takako would compose many haiku in
her honour (see the following translation
page for haiku related to Hisajo).
manjyushage
ori taru te nizo hidati moyu
When
I break off the manjyushage,
look -- fire burns in my hands.
An
'orphan flower'
snapped off in my hands --
like a bonfire.
|
The
Chinese character for the name, manjyushage
(red spider lily or cluster amaryllis) has deep religious undertones. The
flower, which grows en
masse along rice paddies, is said to have over 600 names including higanbana
(flower of Higan,
or the other shore), shibito bano (a flower for the dead); yuuri bana
(ghost flower); sugeto bana (orphan flower); tengai bana (flower
beyond the utmost heavens). Its long-stemmed fiery blooms appear in the serene
season during the autumn Higan,
a seven day period of Buddhist memorial services. Higan centers around
the vernal and autumnal equinoxes (the days in the year when day and night are
exactly the same length in March and September). In
Sanskrit, Higan is para, meaning "the other
shore". Higan means reaching the other shore or attaining nirvana.
This state is also referred to as The Pure Land where suffering and death
is ended. During
the week of observances, families take time to visit ancestral gravesites to pay
respects, pray and give drink and flower offerings.
The
appearance
of the manjyushage's strange, flame-like petals, especially around temples and
graveyards, can be unsettling, even ominous. When at the end of higan,
the blooms disappear and events are ended, composure returns to the land and its
people.
When
a red bloom of the spider lily is held in the hands, its petals look like a
miniature bonfire. Breaking off a flower or a branch can be a symbolic gesture,
a tribute to a teacher or to the dead. [dwb]
A
favoured flower of Takako's, her haiku could be a tribute to Hisajo, who died
tragically in 1946 [Showa 21] or for her husband, although the poet wrote another
manjyushage haiku which was clearly meant for him . [ey] |
Sugita
Hisajo's magazine for women's haiku,
Hanagoromo
(Flowered Garment),
published Takako's haiku in its first edition, drawing praise from Kyoshi. In
those years, Yukuhashi
Takeshita and Mizuhara
Shuoshi (1892-1981 / Meiji 25-Showa 56]) also
influenced the budding poet. The following is Takako's first accepted submission
to Hanagoromo:
tanpopo
no hana ooisa yo ezo no natsu
Such
great big dandelion flowers
crowding Ezo in the summer!
Dandelion
flowers -- so many huge!
Summer at Ezo.
|
hana ooisa yo
is rather a strange phrasing. If Takako wanted simply to indicate 'many' she
could have written hana ichimen no
or hana no oosa yo. Ooisa may
be the equivalent of the modern usage: ookisa, a noun contrived
from adjective, ookii. Ooshi means both plentiful and large. [ey]
The
tanpopo (dandelion) haiku was composed in 1927 when Takako accompanied
her husband on a trip to Karafuto,
the northernmost islands of
pre-WWII Japan. Sakhalin,
as the island is now called, is a long
island (north to south) to the direct north of Hokkaido, and is a Russian
territory. Japanese people in Edo period
used the word Ezo to mean Karafuto Island, Chishima archipelago and
Hokkaido Island all included. In older times, the
word referred to those people who did not obey the emperor's rule. Some scholars
believe Ezo to be an old name for the Ainu. They
once were widespread, living in the north of present day Tokyo, but as Japanese
history rolled on, they were pushed further
northward. Japan has not yet concluded a peace treaty with Russia and a part of
Chishima archipelago (the four northern islands located to the north east of
Hokkaido) has been Japan's territorial
issue for more than fifty years now. [ey]
The
prolific weed with its shaggy, sun-shaped head appears annually, invading wild
field and domestic garden, ushering in the bright summer season. The poet is
away from home with her husband, perhaps on a nature wilderness adventure. On
the surface, the simple composition seems warm, happy and innocent -- even
something a child would say. The likeness of yellow dandelions to the summer sun
is an obvious comparison. The image could even bring crowds of foreign summer
tourists to mind. But the
background of the land once known as Ezo could colour and shade the
surface picture with deeper meanings. Perhaps Takako was surprised upon
discovering the strength and prolificacy of this northern species of dandelion,
being reminded of the troubled human history of the territory.
[dwb] |
When
Toyojiro's father died, the Hashimoto's retained their mountain villa, but the
family moved to Osaka, the largest city of Kansai. This afforded Takako the
opportunity to broaden her haiku circles. That year, 1929 [Showa 4], in a
meeting of Hototogisu poets, she would meet the haijin who eventually became her
future life-time mentor, Yamaguchi
Seishi. Precocious as a child, Seishi wrote his first haiku at the age of
11. A survivor of childhood tuberculosis, he was somewhat an independent young
man after his mothers suicide in 1911 [Meiji 44]. Now, at 27 he was known for
psychologically deep poetry, clear images and "haiku mechanism."
Takako,
at 29, was becoming recognised for the drama
and boldness of her haiku...
inabikari
kita yori sureba kita wo miru
If
a flash of lightning comes from the north
I should cast my gaze northward.
A
lightning flash
from the north
when I look north.
Admired
for her physical beauty, she was stared at wherever she went. Because of this, a
perception gap may have developed between her real self and the persona which
was cast upon her by others. When reading her kushu (haiku collections),
one needs to be attentive in order to determine which cross-section of her life
is being presented in a poem.
This
same Takako who had sealed her past in silence, would also be thought of as
elusive and secretive.
ajisai
ya kinô no tegami haya furubu
Hydrangea...yesterday's
letter
has already become old news.
Hydrangea...
yesterday's letter
quickly fading.
In
1930, Kyoshi's second daughter, Hoshino
Tatsuko, founded the haiku magazine, Tamamo (Beautiful Seagrass). At
that time, the publication was exclusively for women. Tatsuko joined her
father's Hototogisu coterie in 1932 [Showa 7], becoming a leading poet along
with Nakamura
Teijo. During the following two years, Hashimoto Takako and Mitsuhashi
Takajo joined the high ranks. The illustrious group, dubbed "The Four
T's", soundly established women as competent haijin.
Women's
haiku, on the whole, was still a somewhat separated circle from the main body of
haiku poets. Hisajo's endeavour to promote women's haiku through her magazine, Hanagoromo,
was to be short lived, as she lost the support of Kyoshi and his enormous
following for reasons yet unknown. According to poet and translator, Kenneth
Rexroth in The Burning
Heart; Women Poets of Japan,
Hototogisu, in its orthodoxy, "was characterized by a world of lightness
and domestic happiness". Yet haiku, as a genre, was continuing to go
through turbulence with a ferment of new and even radical trends among students
of the establishment.
hotaru
kago kurakereba yuri moetatasu
Firefly
cage: when they flicker,
I shake 'em up to set 'em ablaze.
Shaking
the firefly cage
I set them ablaze
because they've gone dark.
| Quite a few of Takako's haiku,
including this haiku on firefllies, reveal her innate tom-boyishness. Takako had
many layers, but the heart of Child-Tama
lived on. [ey]
(see
the translation page for more of her inner-child haiku)
When reading Takako's firefly
cage, one can't help but think of a group of haiku poets or school/style of
haiku which has become stagnant, imprisoned by ideals which are basically solid,
but which may have become dogmatic through an over-dependence and adherence.
While Takako established strong roots, solid understanding and skill in
traditional haiku by years of diligent study and practice, yet she moved
forward, "out of the box" toward greater freedom within the form,
working on her personal style. In reading her poetry and of her life, a quiet
but forceful personality comes through. Her mind, talent and spirit seem to be
working behind the scenes, appearing in the strides she made, both personally,
through her own poetry and in the corporate haiku world through her influence
and encouragement. Did she rattle "cages" from time to time, not only
those of fellow poets whom she might have befriended, but also poetry
communities through her own haiku? [dwb] |
Yamaguchi
Seishi would write in an introduction, that "there are two possible paths
for a female writer: The road of the woman and the road of the man. The road of
the woman is praised by the man, but the road of the man burns the will, and the
flame is above the man." Takako eventually chose to
follow Seishi away from Kyoshi and his Hototogisu in an continuing effort to
improve and develop her own poetic voice. She would overcome many limitations
including the connotations of "kitchen haiku" through her works and
popularity as a haijin. She broke, not only from Hisajo, but also, on
the recommendation of Seishi, in 1935 [Showa 10] she parted from Hototogisu
and Kyoshi, joining Mizuhara
Shuoshi's
Ashibi
(Andromeda) coterie.
yameru
te ni nosete fuji-busa amarikeri
Placed
on the invalid's hand,
a wisteria tuft looked oh, too long.
Hands
of the ill
......cannot
bear a
wisteria cluster...
....................
no, too much.
When
her beloved husband became ill, Takako took care of him. Often described as
being in weak physical health, Toyojiro passed away
on September 30, 1937 [Showa 12], leaving his wife of twenty years with their
four daughters. It has been said that so attentive was she to him in his
illness, that she could barely leave to see to her own personal needs. Takako
was present at his death in the mountain villa beside Lake Nojiri in the Nagano
Prefecture (Shinano). In the same year, war with China began...
tsuki
ichirin tôko ichirin hikari au
Singular
moon, one frozen lake,
alone in the meeting of their light.
One
far moon,
one frozen lake,
shining on the other.
| What lonely
melancholy. The cold, wintry surface of a frozen lake on earth reflects
moonlight back to its source in the far heavens: two bodies, so near and yet so
far...untouchable, joined mysteriously and silently by their diaphanous
night-cast beam. This haiku with refrain seems to echo the drama and pathos of
Tanabata's star-crossed lovers on opposite banks of the River of Heaven gazing
on each other through the span of time and space, unable to meet except in their
shining. [dwb] |
Twelve
years after her husband's death, for his memorial day on September 30, 1949
[Showa 24], Takako composed the following haiku in remembrance at a lakeside
cottage at Lake Nojiri:
gekko
ni hitotsu no isu wo oki kauru
In
moonlight, I set out a single chair,
a trembling wave returned.
I
put one chair
in the moonlight...
returned shaking.
As Takaha Shugyo
points out in his interpretive essay, Takako employs here a bit of theatrical
direction in presenting the image:
One chair placed in the moonlight
I move it around
[trans. by ey]
Eight years after her
husband's death, in 1945, Japan lost the war. Subsequently, their
Kyushu mountain villa and ranch had to be given away to the government, based on
a new law limiting individual ownership of farmlands. To this end, Takako had
written a haiku in which she likened herself to a heroine of a Chekov drama.
Such a comparison and her sense of drama my be the reason that some critics have
called her "positively narcissistic."
[ey]
|
(See
the translation page for more of Takako's haiku for her husband)
A
widow at 39, Takako struggled to overcome the trauma of losing her husband while
raising their four daughters. Her youngest was 12 years old. Seven years after
Toyojiro's death, in 1944, they moved from Osaka to Nara City to avoid the
air-raids of World War II.
hi
o keseba jimushi no yami o isshoku ni
When
lights are turned out, ground beetle
and darkness become the same colour.
Lights
out:
grubworm and darkness
one colour.
By
careful planning, manual labour (including farming vegetables) and with the
likely financial support of her late husband's family, she was able to head her
household until all four daughters were married. Tragedy struck again after the
war with the early deaths of two of her daughter's young husbands. Saddened,
weakened, Takako would regain her strength in due course. It is possible that,
in part because of the deepening, maturing effect of hardship, her haiku
achieved its great breakthrough to higher levels during these most difficult of
life's passages.
hito
shishite shôsetsu owaru ro no kurumi
A do or die hero, his story ends;
what toil to get a walnut.
The hero dies,
end of story.
Walnut in the fireplace.
Kenneth Rexroth
wrote that "so long as haiku was a substitute for a sensuous diary, it
never had enough power to transform reality." Surrealism was introduced to
Japan in the early 1930's [Showa 5+], greatly influencing the modern poetry
(especially during the late 1960's and 70's). Rexroth mentions the contrast
between the poetry of Yagi
Mikajo, whose modern haiku is influenced by surrealism, with the more
domesticated haiku of Nakamura
Teijo and Hoshino Tatsuko of Hototogisu's school. Many of Takako's poems are
dramatic, influenced by theatrical arts. A cultured lady, were Takako's haiku
also influenced by movements in the visual and literary arts?
ubaguruma
natsu no dotou wo yokomuki ni
Baby
stroller, placed parallel
to summer's imminent, roiling waves.
A
baby carriage,
set parallel with summer's
crashing waves.
| While Takako writes her
"baby carriage" haiku in the traditional method of shasei realism, it
exudes the kind of surreal mystery and nightmarish subject matter of Belgian
artist, Rene Magritte (1898-1967/Meiji 31-Showa 42), whose works portray dreamlike
psychological images in disturbing settings painted in a realistic manner.
Takako's visually geometric haiku is rife with the uneasiness of unanswered
questions: Why is the baby carriage alone on a beach so close to the dangerous
tide? Is there a baby in it? Has the stroller been abandoned? More frightening,
has a helpless infant been abandoned? Where are the parents? Has something bad
happened? Doesn't anyone care? What is the purpose of all this?
Nakamura Yutaka, writing in Haiku
and Nature, indicates that Takako
had probably written this haiku on Miyukigahama Beach in Odawara, near Tokyo,
where her third daughter lived. At that time, the beach was called Arakunohama,
meaning "a beach with forever violent waves." The husband of her
eldest daughter had died before the poem was composed, and it was just after the
end of World War II. She may well have been worried about the future of her
children and grandchildren, expressing her insecurities through this poem. [dwb]
|
setsugen
no kururu ni hi naki sori ni iru
Well,
here I am, on the sleigh without light
stuck in a snow covered field
Hung
up in a snowfield,
I on the sleigh, lamenting
the need of light.
As
Japan struggled to restructure, the haiku world was also going through some
reshuffling. Yamaguchi Seishi, who was still with Hototogisu, was now one of the
most important poets of the school. Takiguchi Susumu notes, in his essay, Yamaguchi
Seishi,
that Seishi, along with three others whose haigo starts with the letter
"S", Shuoshi, Soju and Seiho, helped to create a golden age called
"the Four-S Epoch" for the Hototogisu School. Because he was
"one of the most innovative haiku poets in Japan, his
"ultraconservative," and admiring mentor, Kyoshi, called Seishi
"a conquering general of an expedition force on the remote frontier."
By 1945 [Showa 20], Takako, at age 45, became Seishi's disciple, and three years
later joined with him in founding the magazine, Tenro
(Sirius, or Sky Wolf), which remains in publication today. The membership's
number included Saito
Sanki, Hirahata Seito and Akimoto Fujio, and at a later date, Nagata
Kôi.
hoshizora
e mise yori ringo afure ori
From
the grocer's, a heap of apples
overflows to the starry sky.
Apples
.....from
the grocer's heap tumble
...........................
...into
starry skies.
| This successful
and famous haiku has been highly praised and loved ever since Takako composed it
in 1947. A heap of red apples placed at the storefront, sparkling under
incandescent lights relate, on a symphonic scale, to a myriad stars. Even though
apples were a popular symbol of hope in the post-war chaos and hunger, Takako's
clarity is reminiscent of Miyazawa Kenji with his hard and lofty imagism. As in
the firefly haiku, her deeply suppressed boyishness can be sensed here, too, and
her inner child appears to have survived. In her mature womanhood, she would
write many sensual, or even sexy haiku which some call "ecstasy haiku"
(see translation page). [ey] |
araigami
yuku tokoro mina shizuku shite
My
freshly washed hair, wherever I go
dripping a trickling trail.
Freshly
washed hair
making drip-drops...
everywhere.
Throughout
her haiku career, Takako
used her influence to found and establish haiku magazines and to help others.
From 1950 [Showa 25], Takako superintended Shichiyo
(Seven Days a Week),
a sister magazine of Tenro.
Seishi fully endorsed Takako's activities, and Hatsume, his wife (also a haiku
poet), acknowledged their closeness as an artists bond. The contemporary poet, Tsuda
Kiyoko, first wrote haiku at Takako's home in Nara, where she became her
disciple. In 1951 [Showa 26], Kiyoko won the Tenro prize and joined that
coterie, going on to become the leader of Shara in 1971 [Showa 46], and
founding Kei no Ka in 1986 [Showa 61].
keshi
hiraku kami no saki made sabishiki toki
Poppies
spread wide-open,
loneliness reaches to each tip of my hair.
Poppies
open,
loneliness stretches to the tips
of my hair.
| Leading
Western author and poet, William J. Higginson, in "The
Haiku Handbook" (p. 36-37), notes that Takako figures as an active
participant in many of her poems, the first of those being published in 1962
[Showa 37]. She is present in this poem of melancholy. The
author's loneliness is felt to every end of the being and then beyond.
Takako's perspective takes us
from the visual range "outside" her person: the flower, to the inside
mind and emotion, expanding to the body's physical furthest boundaries - the
tips of the hair, which causes the readers to enter in, taking the emotive
content into another realm beyond the past, beyond the present, into an
emptiness beyond the flower and the printed page. While emotion is not generally
directly expressed in haiku, "autumn loneliness" with its variations
is traditional kigo. In Takako's haiku, the depth of loneliness changes
dramatically through a skilful melding of the two images, the field and emotion
expanding limitlessly. [dwb] |
Takako
did not hesitate to sit through long nights with fellow male members of the Nara
Haiku Association when they met for kukai. A congenial friendship with a member
of the group, Saito
Sanki, seems to have provided a needed respite from her loneliness. The
intensity of war and post-war trauma is often
released in poetry. When lamenting her own solitude and deep sorrows, her
haiku from these times show humanity, strength and courage.
As
she purposefully persisted in her writing, her efforts, along with mutually
constructive criticism within her haiku circles, sharply honed the poet's
writing abilities. Takako's haiku developed into a uniquely personal style while
employing subjects traditional to haiku. It was within the traditional framework
that she was able to develop her innovative poetic ambience. The quality and
power of her poetry brought her continuing admiration and fame,
in addition to being a first woman haiku poet of post-war Japan.
In fact, in a popularity poll of women haijin which was conducted by a haiku
magazine with broad readership, even after her death, Takako won the greatest
number of votes again and again.
hakuto
ni ireshi hasaki no tane o waru
Inserted
in a white peach,
the edge of the knife divided the seed.
Slipped
into
a white peach, the knife's edge
splits the pip.
In
1963 [Showa 38], Hashimoto
Takako was found to have cancer
of the gall bladder and the liver. One beautiful haiku life came to a close,
leaving a legacy in her wealth of poetry. Five volumes of her haiku were
published during Takako's lifetime. Her last kushu was published
posthumously: Life's End.
ryuto
ni kotoba takushite tsuki hanatsu
Burning
lanterns set afloat,
...........I
push them away with my words, released...
Floating
lanterns
pushed adrift, my words
set free...
Next:
Read Takako's haiku in English translations by Eiko Yachimoto
Click
here to let us know what you think of "A Wave of Moonlight"
Credits:
Essay
compilation and composition by D.W. Bender. Biographical information collected
jointly by Debra Woolard Bender and Eiko Yachimoto. Translation of resources and
advisement, E. Yachimoto and S. Takigichi.
Italicized
kansho [dwb] are Bender's. Italicized kansho [ey] are Yachimoto's.
Haiku selections, English versions are D.W. Bender's and are her own
adaptations, not intended as word-for-word translations. (Exception: translation
E. Yachimoto of Hisajo's manjyushage haiku and Takako's "one chair"
haiku.)
Haiku
versions are presented in "crystalline" style (17 syllable couplet)
and tercet (3 line style). The crystalline haiku, as a fixed form, focuses on
the natural rhythms and cadences of the English language rather than simply on
concise brevity.
The
crystalline haiku form was devised by Denis Garrison of Maryland, US. His
article on crystalline may be read at:
http://www.denisgarrison.com/haiku/kunouveau/crystalline.html
And his article,
About Ku: The Need for Experimentation can be read at:
http://www.denisgarrison.com/haiku/kunouveau/aboutku.html
References:
Poetry
Along the Way Now and Zen;Tony Weeden
pg. 55, Chiyo-ni:
Woman Haiku Master, ed. and trans, with notes by Patricia
Donegan & Yoshie Isibashi; Tuttle Publishing, 1998 [Heisei 10].
pg. 85, ibed
Art
and Poetry of Chiyo-ni, Women's Early Art, IAWM.
http://www.sasugabooks.com/newsletters/newsletter.html?Edition=16
Joe LaPenta; review
for Mainichi Daily News, 1995 [Heisei 7]for:
A
long rainy season: Haiku & Tanka: Contemporary Japanese
Women's Poetry, Volume 1, 1994 [Heisei 6] Other
side River Contemporary Japanese Women's
Poetry, Volume 2, 1995 [Heisei 7]
Manifestations
of Gender Distinction in the Japanese Language,
Alexander Schonfeld
The
Haiku Handbook, How to Write, Share and Teach Haiku, William
J. Higginson with Penny Harter. Kodansha International, 1985
Matsumoto
Seicho
Wind
from Japan 92 -My favorites in Osaka and Japan: Higanbana,
Kazeon Sugoi, Osaka, JP
Women
Poets of Japan, Kenneth Rexroth & Ikuko Atsumi. New Directions
Paperbook 527, 1982 [Showa 57].
Ai
no Haiku, Ai no Jinsei (Haiku of Love, Life of Love),
Taniguchi Keiko. JP, Kodansha, April 2001 [Heisei 13].
Hakata
* Kitakyushu Historical Series No.13
- The
Women Associated with No.13 Tower Mountain Villa , Reed
Publishing Company; a panel discusses the life and work of Hashimoto Takako
(Japanese), haiku poet, and also her relationship with Sugita Hisajo and Yukuhashi
Takeshita.
Yamaguchi
Seishi,
Susumu Takiguchi. World Haiku Review, Volume I, Issue I, May 2001 [Heisei 13].
Kiku makura (Pillow
Filled with Chrysanthemum Petals),Matsumoto Seicho and is included in his
posthumous All Seicho Collection.
Gendai Haiku Taikei (Complete Anthology of Modern Haiku), Vol. 6 & 8,
Kadokawa Shoten, JP, 1973 [Showa 48]
Takako's ku-shu
Shinano,
Hashimoto Takako (Takako's kushu)
Kôshi,
Hashimoto Takako (Takako's kushu)
Takaha Shugyo's
interpretive essays on Takako are included in this grand collection of Modern
Haiku including: Shuoshi, Kusama Tokihiko, Nozawa Setsuko, Takaha Shugyo, Mori
Sumio, Sawaki Kinichi, Azumi Atsushi and Kadokawa Gengi.
Life's
End 1965, Hashimoto Takako, Kodakowa Publishing Company, Ltd. [Showa 40]
Hashimoto
Takako (1899-1963 Meiji 32-Showa 38)
Kyoshi
Takahama (1874-1959/Meiji)
Hoshino
Tatsuko (1903-1984/Meiji 36-Showa 59)
Sugita
Hisajo (1890-1946/Meiji 23-Showa 21)
Yamaguchi
Seishi (1901-1994 /Meiji 34-Heisei 6)
Mitsuhashi Takajo
(1899-1972/Meiji 32-Showa 47)
Yukuhashi
Takeshita (1887-1951 /Meiji 20-Showa 26])
Mizuhara
Shuoshi (1892-1981/Meiji)
Nakamura
Teijo (1900-1989/Meiji 33-Showa 64)
Mitsuhashi Takajo (1899-1972/Meiji 32-Showa 47)
Saito
Sanki (1900-1962/Meiji 33-Showa37)
Yagi
Mikajo (1924-/Taisho 13-)
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