Literature: Poetry, stories and dreams

Thursday, November 13, 2003

More submissions:

I'm glad more are writing--I presume that these submissions were composed after reading the comments I made on the early submissions. Everyone is composing great poetry. The rules of senryu are strict and compel to make my commentaries, but they are all good and fun to read. If you haven't submitted one yet, feel free to; just submit it to Monday's post. I will read it. If those of you who have submitted one already want to submit another one, or a reworked one, that is fine too. This is, for me, fun to do... I'm such a JapLit weenie. hahahahaha

I will comment on these shortly but if anyone wants too leave their own comments, feel free.

BarbEric_Bojo
     Rumble inside gut 
     Cheeks tighten, Breath Held, Silence 
     A sigh of relief
Comments: Syllable count okay. This verse, although a bit uncouth, is close to what some think is senryu: Although I'm not sure if the the cheese was cut or not. Does "silence" suggest the gas was nt passed, or that it was an SBD (silent but deadly). The "sigh of relief" suggests the latter. Anyway, while funy, it would have been better if there was a sense of place--such as a crowded bus--something to give it context. As I said in the comments below, the senryu should be a photographic moment of life, your life... BarbEric, is this your life? Hehehe, just kidding.

kizyr
     Just as I finish
     Every study abroad form
     I receive eight more
Comment: Syllable count okay. Any student who has studied abroad should relate to this: With all the documentation involved with gong to a foreign country, the process seems endless. But I'm unsure about receiving "eight more". When you finish one application, is someone else sending you more? Or are you trying to say that when you finish one of the forms, you find that there are 8 more to complete? This is a bit confusing. But it's all good. The kokoro is there, and that's what counts.

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

Senryu submissions and comments:

Wow, I wasn't sure if anyone would respond--guess I was wrong. But this is great. Okay, now remember this is a practice run, and any comment I make is not to be taken as criticism, but as commentary for your next composition. If you would like to submit a poem, feel free, but submit poems to YESTERDAY's post. This is just for fun, and even though I may make remarks, it is JUST FOR FUN. Submissions will not affect your final grade. Haha! In the order received:

SammyStorm
     My heart leaps for joy,
     When I hear the words ring out,
     "It's time for dinner"
Comments: Syllable count ok. A slice of everyday life is also good, especially for a first attempt with very little explanation. Everyone--ok, maybe moslty guys--leaps for joy when its time to eat. However, to mention this straightout is, in Japanese poetry, a bit too obvious. Next time try to convey the joy through an image that suggests joy to the regular reader. And not just a smiling face; that too would be obvious...

consummate_leah
     I type rapidly
     expressing a thousand thoughts
     for Xangans to read
Comments: Syllable count ok. And I know everyone here understands your sentiment--wanting to say so many thought (1000 of them) but ironically with little thought (type rapidly) is funny and rings true for us! But the typing is perhaps too long a moment. Capturing a moment--or instant--in time in images is often the key to an interesting senryu. Perhaps the moment you lose a long entry to cyberspace by pushing the wrong button--or more likely when Xanga experiences PMS.

Hamamoto
     My boss talks too much
     My boss is extremely short
     Napolean lives!
Comments: Syllable count ok. Very funny, I think--I could imagine a boss who is talkative and short, and such an image would convey a Napoleon! Avoid repetitions. My boss, My boss. there is so much more you could include without it. Also, the word short is redundant if you use the image of Napoleon. Indeed, you could have provided even more info with the middle sentence. How about, "tip-toes at the urinal"? Haha. J/k. But I think you get what I mean.

msbLiSs
     i tried to escape
     but millions of germ droplets
     were sneezed onto me
Comments: Syllable count ok. And the image is very good--catching a moment in time that everyone experiences. As in the others above, perhaps an image that suggests an attempt to escape, instead of the word itself, would have been more appropriate. Also, the last line sounds awkward. One gets the sense of a Japanese passive sentence translated into awkward English. But the overall kokoro (essence) is very good.

Sinta
     Fall from peaceful perch,
     Virgin white cherry blossom,
     Warriors accept death.
Comment: The last line "warriors accept death" has, strictly speaking, 6 syllables, but "warriors" is one of those words where pronunciation can be fudged. There is a term ji-amari that means a few too many characters, but it is acceptable at times if the flow of the word/line doesn't sound excessive. The content is interesting--cherry blossoms are often used as symbols of a short life since they scatter after a few days after blooming. But this is often used and has become a fixed metaphor where I come from (field of Jap. Lit.). The term "peaceful perch" is a bit unusual. Is a cherry tree a peaceful place? It's hard to make the association. The interesting aspect of this verse--and it truly is interesting--is the juxtaposition of "peaceful" and "warriors", two seemingly contradicting images. This element of unexpectedness is often a strong point in senryu. Still, this poem, with its cherry image, smacks of haiku. Next time, try to reflect your own everyday life, and capture the moment.

mattblue
     woke up this morning
     feeling dizzy from last night
     too much tequila
Comment: Word count ok. The spirit of the poem is something most of us can appreciate; as you stated, "an ode to college students across the nation." But if you can capture a moment in time that exemplifies the feelings you want to express, particualrly in images. Is there an image that you can conjure that would convey to the reader that you are dizzy? What do you see, or how do you see things when you are dizzy? What do others do that tell you  that they might be dizzy?

ikerton
     turns head coughs, again
     cold hands, shivers, cheeks red, tears
     uncomfortable
Comments: Syllable count ok, but the goro--the fluidity of sound, rhythm--is missing because of the structure. No subject, tenseless verb, list of nouns. Without your title, "A trip to the doctor", the poem could mean anything, which is tantamount to meaning nothing--whose cold hands? Doctors? Who shivers? You? Doctor? Cheeks red? Whose ass? Haha! I think you can see what I mean. But the kokoro (essence) is fine, gong to a cold sterile doctor's office is certainly uncomfortable. You just need to focus the poem.

Onigiriman:
     Slamming the slot closed
     I leave Blockbuster behind
     at twelve-ten PM
Comment: Certainly not a masterpiece, but a bit better than the one yesterday. It tries to capture the moment when one feels the frustration of having to pay for an extra day when returning a rented video late by only a few minutes. But still need work.

FYI: I teach Jap. Lit. and my specialty is poetry, so I have analyzed a lot of poems in my day--albeit late classical/early medieval court poetry. Also, my dad (on the right around 30 years old; ca. 1942) has been a senryu judge for most of his life, and I have had to help him set up and clean up his poetry salons--he would never let me judge; I wasn't good enough. You know how Asian dad's are. Anyway, I have been doing this or have been around people doing this for over forty years. As in most J-poetry, the ability to make images speak for other things is key. Not simply as metaphors, but in intertextual ways--that is, in ways that ellicit connections / associations to other texts / contexts that are obvious but not necessarily fixed, as in metaphors. Senryu is no different. But perhaps the most important aspect of a senryu is to catch a moment in life. As my dad told me a million times, imagine it as a brilliant photo that seems to catch the perfect moment. Nothing posed, nothing random, but a moment when the people, their expressions, the milieu, the color (or b/w) convey a sense of place, of emotion, of being. It may not be a surprise, but my dad did senryu poetry as a hobby, his profession was photography.

Monday, November 10, 2003

J Poetry for the commoner:

In the Edo period of Japan--approx. 1600-1868--Japan closed itself from the outide world and enjoyed a time of peace for over 250 years. Tokugawa Ieyasu and his successors ruled Japan with an iron fist, but there was relative prosperity among the common people. And it is this time when new forms of Japanese poetry deverloped. Everyone knows about Haiku, I think, but few know about Senryu. Senryu takes the same form as haiku, but it is less concerned about the seasons and focused on the activities and emotions of man. The following is a poem by my dad, about his nostalgia for home.

下駄はいて橋を渡れば里の音
geta haite hashi wo watareba sato no oto	When crossing a bridge in a pair of wooden clogs, sound of my birthplace.

As the poem states, the sound of geta--the noisy wooden clogs worn mostly by men--reminds the speaker of his native land. As this poem was composed in the US, the verse ellicits a sense of nostalgia, a sense of distance, and hence a sense of loneliness.

As in haiku, the structure of the senryu poem is 5-7-5 syllables. I have translated the poem to matche the same syllable count. Would anyone be interested in composing his/her own senryu in English? If you are, the rules are simple. First and foremost is the syllable count. 5-7-5. Do not deviate. Compose a poem that reflects a kind of universality of common, everyday life through textual description. My dad conveyed the nostalgia felt by many who are far from home. The poems can be funny as well; in fact, senryu is often translated as "comic verse".

Don't worry about how good it is; we can slowly develop our style as we go along. If you leave your poem as a  comments, I will try to respond to it. Now, I don't know how many would be interested, but I think it might be fun. My students ahd to create poems for a poetry match in class. One student relayed this to her HS teacher, and they are now going to try it. GOOD! I love it when I can influence people in a positive way.

Anyway, let me start it off with a rendition of my own. Mmmmm....

Video in hand / I scurry to Blockbuster / at twelve-ten PM

Okay? Like I said: It doesn't have to be good.

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Disaster dreams

Wierd dreams lately.  For some reason, last week I had dreams about disasters two consecutive nights. Was this an omen?

Tuesday Night--Meteor: I hear the news that a meteor is flying through space and it's gonna hit somewhere along the East Coast near Virginia. I go outside with Musubi-chan and the air is hot, how your skin feel in front of a heat lamp. I look in the sky and I see a round orange fireball, the same size as the moon. Armageddon... I turn to Musubi-chan. We're doomed. We don't have much longer to live.  We decide that maybe we can go to California where my dad is. Maybe there's a chance we can survive this on the Left Coast. Nah, not a chance. The whole world is doomed. But, that means, of course, that money in the bank has little or no value. So naturally, I then find myself at Hechts, trying on corduroy pants... Hey! Maybe they were insulated, ok?

Wednesday night--Floods: We go on an outing and return by train. At the Alpine-looking train station, we try to get on the bus home but for some reason, I'm by myself knowing that Musubi-chan will be on the next one. I arrive alone at our townhouse located in a rocky looking valley. Suddenly there's a flash flood and our house is being rocked. I somehow find my way back to the station only to find it completely trashed as well. Where's Musubi-chan! I look around and find a bus toppled over. Musubi-chan is inside safe, fortunately.

I'm not much on remembering dreams but I remembered these two. Perhaps they were a premonition for my talk on film. Ack! Or maybe, I just had to go to the bathroom...

Friday, July 25, 2003

The Fruit of Midsummer The BGM playing now is a song by KUWATA Keisuke is a classic and was used as the theme song for the movie "Inamura Jane". The movie is about a group of four young people who live in Inamuragasaki by Shōnan Beach. They surf--when surfing was still young in Japan--waiting for a legendary wave called Inamura Jane. "Manatsu no Kajitsu" (the fruit of midsummer) is a love song about the memories of a summer past and the sadness it evokes. The sense of the song might be grasped by this rough translation of the first stanza and chorus: A sad season filled with tears--it sees a dream embraced by someone--the feeling of wanting to cry can't be put into words--a cold rain will fall again tonight--letting out sighs I can't hold back--even now, summer cruises in my heart--Saying I love you 24/7--taking me into a dream--the heart and soul I can't forget--I can't voice--erasing the names we wrote in the sand--where will the tears return?--a passing love and roll--love just as it is.

Some who visit me may be interested in the Japanese lyrics, which I include below, complete with furigana. Try singing along with it--when you're alone of course.

真夏(まなつ)の果実(かじつ) 涙(なみだ)があふれる　悲(かな)しい季節(きせつ)は　/　誰(だれ)かに抱(だ)かれた夢(ゆめ)を見る 泣(な)きたい気持(きも)ちは言葉(ことば)に出来ない　/　今夜(こんや)も冷(つめ)たい雨(あめ)が降(ふ)る こらえきれなくて　ため息(いき)ばかり　/　今もこの胸(むね)に　夏(なつ)は巡(めぐ)る

＊四六時中(しろくじちゅう)も好きと言って　/　夢の中へ連(つ)れて行って 　忘(わす)れられない Heart & Soul　/　声(こえ)にならない 　砂(すな)に書いた名前(なまえ)消(け)して　/　波(なみ)はどこへ帰(かえ)るのか 　通(とお)り過(す)ぎ行(ゆ)く Love & Roll　/　愛(あい)をそのままに

マイナス100度(ど)の太陽(たいよう)みたいに　/　身体(からだ)を湿(しめ)らす恋(こい)をして めまいがしそうな真夏(まなつ)の果実(かじつ)は　/　今でも心(こころ)に咲(さ)いている 遠(とお)く離(はな)れても　黄昏時(たそがれとき)は　/　熱(あつ)い面影(おもかげ)が胸(むね)に迫(せま)る

＊四六時中(しろくじちゅう)も好きと言って　/　夢の中へ連(つ)れて行って 　忘(わす)れられない Heart & Soul　/　夜(よる)が待てない 　砂(すな)に書いた名前消(け)して　/　波(なみ)はどこへ帰るのか 　通(とお)り過(す)ぎ行(ゆ)く Love & Roll　/　愛(あい)をそのままに

　こんな夜(よる)は涙(なみだ)見せずに　/　また逢(あ)えると言って欲(ほ)しい 　忘(わす)れられない Heart & Soul　/　涙(なみだ)の果実(かじつ)よ

Wednesday, July 23, 2003

Summer cool Okay, cool is okay, in abstract terms--fashion, attitude--but PLEASE not the weather! After a freezing winter and an extended cool spring, I relish the summer heat, humidity and all--okay, I hated the hay fever... But now, a storm has come through to send the mercury plummeting to levels unheard of in the summer--especially for this SoCal boy. Gimme the heat! We even had a black out for about an hour... Anyway, I thought I'd play a BGM that reminds me of the dog days of summers in early 90s Japan. I've got others, but they'd be even older...

Why is Nihon called Japan? A Continuing Series of Useless--Yet Inexplicably Interesting--Information

This is the question I posted before I went to sleep last night. While the West refers to France as France, and America as America, it calls a country, known to its citizens as Nihon, Japan. This morning, Takunishi, that man steeped in all things Japanese, responded to the above query by telling me that the name Japan came from the word Zipang, likely Portuguese, meaning perhaps the "Land of Gold." And indeed, according to the Wikipedia, "Zipang, Zipangu or Jipangu (where the ending -gu （国） means "country") is the archaic name for Japan, from Portuguese. That was first introduced by Marco Polo's book, with spelling Cipangu."

But the question is, where did this Portuguese word come from? Why did they call it Zipang, instead of Nihon or Nippon? I don't really know why, but I've created my own story after studying Chinese.

In Modern Chinese--Mandarin, to be precise--the characters for Japan 日本 are pronounced, ri-ben. Now, this doesn't look anything like the word Nihon or Japan, except for the fact that it has two syllables. But the interesting thing is its pronunciation: 'r' as represented in pinyin (modern Chinese represented phonetically in roman letters) is similar to the sound 'j' or 'zh' as represented in English. Further, 'i' in pinyin--and only after certain consonants--is pronounced in a way that would sound similar to 'er' (as in 'her') to the American ear. One more thing: 'e' in certain combinations is pronounced 'u' as in 'up'. (Amazingly, some scholars actually believe pinyin is the perfect romanization for Chinese.) Consequently, the Chinese pronunciation of 日本--transliterated for the average English speaker--might look more like "jer-bun." (Chinese scholar, Cult of Dizzo, may have a different opinion, of course.)

Okay, so my story goes like this: To establish its sovereignty and legitimacy to its neighbors, the land of Yamato 大和 produced the Taiho Codes (701), a legal system "borrowed" from the great Chinese civilization. In it, they established the emperor as ruler, government structure, laws, and an official name. Perhaps taking a Chinese perspective--it was, after all, the powerful Middle Kingdom 中国--they saw themselves as a land to its east, an area where the sun rises, the sun's 日 source 本, as it were.

China accepted Japan as a sovereign land and subsequently referred to it by its official name, albeit using their pronunciation. When some visiting Europeans asked what lies to the east, the Chinese responded with the word that became the basis for the West's name for 日本. "jer-bun." (Get it? Get it?)

Now, I'm sure you're thinking, "Yeah, right." And I'd be the first to admit that modern Chinese cannot be pronounced exactly as it was during the Tang or Ming dynasty, although I'd bet that they would be similar. And certainly, this is my "fairly tale", not an exercise in critical methodology. But interestingly enough, there was a man from Venice named Marco Polo who published his experiences in China in a book entitled Le Merveilles du Monde (that's "Marvels of the World" to you and me) at the end of the 13th century. In it, he also mentions a "land of gold" that the Chinese spoke of, a group of islands to the east of China that he introduced to the West as... (drum roll, please)... Jipang, the alternate spelling for English speakers representing the Portuguese pronunciation of Cipangu.

Note: the 'g' or 'gu' is from the Chinese pronuciation of 国 'guo'.

For more, see: Marco Polo's Asia; an introduction to his "Description of the world" called "Il milione."

Tuesday, July 22, 2003

Today's entry This fall I'm teaching a course on Readings in Modern Japanese, and we will focus on the works of MURAKAMI Haruki. I am supposed to get a new TA and so I have to figure out how to divide the work. Hmm...

In the course, we will read his short stories, and I have divided them into social commentary and postmodernism. Haruki often uses animals in his social commentary--something he would likely deny, he doesn't "consciously" use animals to make any kind of statement, nor is he trying to make any kind of statement at all. I believe him--that is the genius of a gifted writer. The following is an example.

What do you think the elephant might represent? Consider how the author characterizes the elephant. What is his reaction to her? How does he describe her?

Note: The translation is mine and is rough. If there are any notable errors, please point them out to me >how embarrassing!<

ハイヒール High Heel

村上春樹、『夢で会いましょう』（講談社、1986）より

So what might the elephant represent? Two ideas come immediately to mind if you consider how the elephant is characterized. The author is surprised to see her on the subway, and surprised to see that she reads books. How do the other passangers view her? With disdain. She is a nuisance, no stands near her, they are afraid of being stepped on by her. Notice anything else?

I initially thought it was about the handicapped, particuarly in a wheelchair: awkward presence, crushing toes, reading books. Others have thought it was foreigners: large, unable to read Japanese, unapproachable. I'm not sure. Interpretation is left to the reader. But the last line kinda makes me wonder if it might actually be a reference to foreigners, since Haruki is actually very popular in translation... Any thoughts?

Thursday, July 10, 2003

Poetry by Early JAs: Senryū川柳 Senryū is a style of poetry developed in Japan during the Edo period. It is an outgrowth of haiku, and concerns itself with the thoughts and tastes of the common people. While haiku focused on identifying human truth through the seasons, senryū is more concerned with identifying human truth and sentiments through everyday human activity. According to my old man, a JA Senryū poet, it is like taking a snapshot of life. He is a kibei-nisei --帰米二世, American-born, educated in Japan and returned to the US--and composed poems, including the following which reveals his nostalgia for Japan.

The poem, composed in 1973, suggests two elements that bind us to fond memories of the past. First is food. Things we eat can easily bring back memories of a better time. Indeed, I remember when I went to Japan to study. Although I was a Mombusho student, I was living a hand-to-mouth existence. The stipend I received barely paid for the essentials, and when I finally found a part-time job that allowed me to indulge myself just a little, I went to... McDonald's! Can you EVEN imagine that the taste of a Big Mac can trigger not only memories of home, but a sense of nostalgia?!? Oh gawd, how can I even be admitting here that the first bite of the two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-seseme seed-bun in Ogikubo almost brought tears to my eyes? Well, being poor sucks, but its amazing how a meager life can make you appreciate even the simplest of experiences.

Which brings me to the second point: nostalgia is often connected to simple things, not complex ones, for it seems that the simple things are the most familiar, and the most reminiscent of a simpler life. For my old man, rice balls--nigirimeshi, or onigiri--brought back memories of home, Fukushima, and his life as a kid in the 1920s. Back then, onigiri was not bought at the 7 Eleven (duh!), but made by his mother, another strong image that elicits nostalgia. When I think of it, in 1973, my dad was already 60 years old, his mother had died in Japan 17 years earlier, and he had been to Japan only once to see his parents (they didn't return to the US with him) since 1931 or so. A poem such as the one above may seem simple enough to me, the reader, but must have been saturated with significance for him.

If I were a poet, I wonder what kind of poem I would compose when I think back to my mom and my life as a kid?

Like I said, IF I were a poet....

Tuesday, July 08, 2003

Today's poem: Haiku俳句
Haiku is a form of poetry developed during the Edo period that reflected the tastes of the masses rather than those of the aristocracy. As practiced by Matsuo Basho, it attempts to identify human truths through representations of the seasons as seen through nature or human activity. The most important aspect of haiku observed in Basho's works in his later years is that it had to demonstrate a kind of "lightness" 軽み. It was not supposed to be grand, pompous, self-important--I guess today we'd say, not so full of itself--like the waka poetry of earlier centuries. Here is a poem by Bashō on heat and mosquitoes.

Ok, ok, zansho really suggests a period in autumn when the heat of the summer lingers. But the imagery is very summer, particularly in rural areas, which I drove through on my way back from Williamsburg. So what are the images and what do they conjure up? Cowshed, suggesting the countryside and the stench of manure; mosquitoes, suggesting heat and humidity; dark suggests the dimness in the cowshed and the inability to see clearly; and lingering heat, put together with all these other things, we have a rather crude, unsophisticated scene: In an attempt to escape the heat, the poet enters a dark cowshed, only to be struck by the stifling heat, pungent with the smell of cow shit. Making matters worse, the buzz of skeeters in the dimness serve to remind us that it is hot and humid. The smell of shit and the sound of skeeters graphically convey the nastiness of a summer-like heat.

And yet, there is a definite sense of autumn beyond the seasonal word, zansho. The second line, "ka no koe kuraki," suggests the coming of a different season. During the summer, the mosquito is at its peak, abundant and full of energy. However, Bashō describes their buzzing as dark, synthesizing sound with his visual perception. While the darkness is obviously the inside of the cowshed, it also intimates that the buzzing is faint: The mosquitoes are fading and no longer have their summer vigor. Therefore, while the poem expresses the unbearable heat of zansho, the use of synesthesia--combining different sensory perceptions--conveys a kind of anticipation: summer has ended and a darker, hence cooler, autumn will soon arrive.

Class dismissed.

Thursday, June 19, 2003

変な-ｲを見ちゃった。 I had a really weird dream about a new "X-sport": Group Russian Roulette. Recently, I have watched in wonder the new forms of entertainment, such as Jackass and Bluetorch. Besides the ubiquitous mall skateboarding, there have been escalator handrail slides and rain surfing. My wife Musubi-chan thinks its funny: いつか X スポーツになるかな. I tell her that it's not interesting; if anything it's individual sports and I prefer team sports--football, baseball. I wonder if this conversation is what triggered this dream:

I'm standing at on a busy urban street corner waiting for the light to turn green, when a group of seven people surround me and other by-standers. The group is dressed rather grungy--at least to this old man's standard. I look nervously arouond me, as do the other by-standers. When the light turns green, they each each pull out a revolver, hold it to their respective heads and pull the trigger. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. No pop of gun fire. A woman screams somewhere near me. The seven run away, howling and whooping as they go.

What the shit was that all about?!?

I start to chase them. But they are younger--way younger--than I so I can keep up only with the last of them. A girl with short blonde hair. She runs up the steps of an rundown urban apartment and climbs the stairs two steps at a time. I fall behind, but catch up to her when she starts fumbling for the keys to what I figure is her apartment.

"What did you guys just do?"

"Nothing" She looks like a young Rosanne Arquette.

"What was with the guns to the head?"

"Nothing. You deaf?"

I won't bore you with the rest of the dream's details. My memory's sketchy at best anyway. But basically she finally tells me that its a team sport, where they freak out strangers by pulling the trigger in front of them. But the deal is that there is actually a live round in each gun, and that it is Russian Roulette. They try to see if everyone survives. Other teams are doing the same thing in other areas of the city. Someone dies, the team loses.

I wanted to join them, but I woke up before I got to play.

Do I have a death wish, or a problem, or what?!? I need an umeboshi.

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