Monday 2 April 2018

The Wandering Poet of Edo



Lucien Stryk (Translation) (1985), On Love and Barley: Haiku of Basho, London: Penguin Books, pp.92


‘Learn about a pine tree from a pine tree, and about a bamboo stalk from a bamboo stalk.’
                                                      -Basho

This is the kind of poetry book that feels like treasure. It has verses in translation that is accessible without draining away too much across languages, a form of poetry that is short and unique, beautiful Taiga paintings as you move from one set of verses to another and an excellent introductory essay and reader-friendly notes at the end. Even though you are new to this form, you will not be lost here except in the Haiku themselves.

Philosophy of Haiku
Haiku, in its traditional seventeen syllable form, has two parts. The first part is often the depiction of a condition as found in nature and the second part is a feeling of sudden perception. These two parts are divided abruptly by a cutting-phrase in Japanese called kireji, rendered in the English translation as an emphatic punctuation like the hyphen. The philosophy behind Haiku was that a moment that was taken from a context, devoid of antecedence (past time, memory) or consequences (future time or anticipation) is capable of attaining transcendental unity. Haiku significantly differed from other forms of poetry by demanding active audience participation for the completion of its rendition. Every Haiku begins in the poet’s mind and ends in the reader’s.

Basho’s legacy
Matsuo Kinsake was the greatest Japanese Haiku poet of the Tokugawa period of the seventeenth century Japan. He wrote under the name Basho, in honour of the broad-leaved banana tree (originally called Basho in Japanese) that one of his disciples gifted him. He revolutionalized traditional Haiku that was originally practiced by scholarly poets, freeing it from the rigid orthodoxy of rules. He infused lightness (karumi), solitude (sabi) and sparseness (wabi) of Zen in his signature Shofu-style Haiku. In his lifetime, he is thought to have written at least 1000 Haikus, often tucked away in his much-loved travel sketches written in haibun style (haiku followed by prose). The central concern in his poetry is the appreciation and elevation of the mundane and the commonplace.

To capture Basho’s haiku in other languages is a daunting task and Lucien Stryk has done an amazing job rendering it in English. Some of his poems are poignant and some self-deprecatingly funny, but all of them leave you with lingering poignancy. Most of his poetry dwells on the movement of time, the cycle of seasons and the evolution of mind with the natural flow of life. His love for Edo (modern Tokyo), mountain Fuji, cherry blossoms and the landscape of Japan is equally matched by his friendship with fellow poets and philosophers and love for enigmatic women. He loves, lives, celebrates, complains and grieves, seventeen syllables at a time.

Reading this volume is having the privilege to roam around freely with him. Though separated in time and place, across language and form, Basho talks to you and thinks with you. He belongs to all of us and to all time and ages. In his own words,

House of fancy-
Dozing there, it
Was all mine.

And now, it is all ours too!