haiku by Issa
pictures by G. Brian Karas
Scholastic Press (2007)
When I tutor kids in writing haiku it always strikes me as ironic to have such rules in poetry. Haiku follow a 5-7-5 syllable format. They are about nature. They originated in Japan. At least, that's what the tutoring company's scripted lesson calls for. The kids' reluctance falls away, however, when they are allowed to deviate: 7-9-1? Sure! Haiku about Mario Kart? Go for it! It finally gets them writing.
But that's the Teacher Brain talking. The Reader Brain can still appreciate the cool flow of classic haiku. And Issa, poet of today and today, delivers classic.
"Once snows have melted,
the village soon overflows
with friendly children"
Divided into seasons, Issa writes about the Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter of his life. I like the chronology of the compilation, like I'm reading the story of a Year. Life follows such patterns; families follow such patterns. It's innocent and clean and cyclical.
And this is what gets me about the beloved haiku, so much of a perfectly beautiful thing starts to bore me. I want just one flaw, just one asymmetrical element, just one silly 7-9-1 deviant. I don't think it's Issa or today and today (this book is not "cutesy" or "precious"), but rather the art of haiku. Haiku captures moments, snapshots, something meant to be preserved. And I guess it's this idea of keepsakes in a glass box that aren't allowed to get dusty or be affected by change in any way that turns me off. Cynicism? Traumatic childhood? I don't know. Maybe I should strive to find the comfort in Beauty instead of the lesson learned after Struggle.
I do have a few favorites, although I have to say it is more a function of the particular haiku partnered with G. Brian Karas's treasure box of paint and wood and sponge and collage.
A little girl is enveloped in warm mahogany, a paler woodcut of light shines through from the window under which she's reading, her bright red shoes barely touching the outline of the sun.
"In hazy spring mist,
sitting inside the great hall,
not a hint of sound."
I like that. Muffled.
Through a screen window darkened by the falling evening outside, we see a pencil sketch boy kicking the sheets off his bed and staring at flies buzzing around the ceiling.
"So many breezes
wander through my summer room:
but never enough."
Ah, a flaw. Not enough breezes. Maybe that's why I like that one.
I recommend this collection because of the beautiful and varied media, because of easy-to-use examples of classic haiku. And for myself, I hope to either continue to find surprises in haiku or to truly believe in the possibility of perfection.
2 comments:
I am absolutely in love with this anthology. And come visit us two Sundays from now, because Karas is kindly sending us the image from my very favorite spread in that book (and an image from one of his upcoming titles) for one of our Sunday Kicks lists. I am thrilled (and this week will post my review of Today and Today, too, as well as another of his titles).
I love to see people talking about it; it's one of the best anthologies of poetry for children I've seen this year!
Oooh, I can't wait to see what he sends you! The more I see his art and especially after y'all's review, the more I think he's pure brilliance.
Post a Comment