There's no reason for beauty,
The cosmos does not need it,
Beauty is the gift of God,
It is how God redeems it.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
Renga Ramblings 5
Renga
Ramblings 5
Renga
and Rhyme
Japanese
poetry does not use rhyme as an element of construction in its poetry. It isn’t the case the Japanese poetry does
not use rhyme at all. In Jane
Reichhold’s “Basho: The Complete Haiku” Reichhold has a closing section on
‘Haiku Techniques’. Two of the
techniques, numbers 8 and 19, refer to uses of rhyme. In my study of Tanka I have observed that
Tanka poets will, at times, cultivate a particular vowel sound producing both
assonance and end rhyme. Reichhold also
points to the use of ‘Frame Rhyme’, what I would call ‘Slant Rhyme’, to produce
a humorous effect in haikai.
But
this kind of rhyme isn’t part of the way rhyme is used in, for example, English
or Chinese poetry. In English poetry
rhyme is an element of construction. By
this I mean that if you are going to write a Shakespearean Sonnet you need to
follow a particular end-rhyme scheme because the rhyme scheme is a structural
element of the form. The same is true of
the Rubai Quatrain or the Englin Quatrain or Chinese Quatrain forms. In Japanese forms rhyme is sometimes used,
but such usage is not definitive of a form like Tanka or Haikai. That is to say if there is no rhyme in a
Tanka, which is to say the majority of Tanka, that is not considered a
flaw. But if there were no rhymes in a
Shakespearean Sonnet, or if they were placed incorrectly, that would be a
strike against it.
In
general English language poets who write in Japanese forms have found the
absence of rhyme in these forms to be congenial. For one thing, it resonates with the
modernist tendency to retreat from rhyme.
I suspect that one of the attractions of Japanese forms for English
language poets is the absence of rhyme in an ancient tradition of poetry.
But,
since I am writing poetry in English, and since English poetry does use rhyme,
I began to explore the possibility of incorporating rhyme into Renga. I wanted the rhyme usage in Renga to reflect
the manner of Renga. By ‘manner of
Renga’ I mean the link and shift patterning, or texture, which distinctively
marks Renga. After a lot of experiments
I came up with something which seems to work.
The pattern of end-rhyme I’ve developed is as follows:
The
last syllable of the last line of Verse X
And
the last syllable of the first line of Verse X + 1
Rhyme.
Here
is an example:
Summer
ends with the first chill
One
more blanket on the bed
“I
think that instead
Of
purchasing brand new clothes,
This
year we’ll make do.”
Dawn,
with many shades of blue
Seen
through many colored leaves
(From
‘Sunset Sky’)
The
last syllable of the last line of the first verse is ‘bed’.
The
last syllable of the first line of the second verse is ‘stead’.
The
same pattern applies to ‘do’ and ‘blue’.
These
rhymes link the consecutive verses sonically.
One commenter on this blog noted that the effect of rhyming in this way
was a kind of braiding of the images.
The
shift occurs because no two consecutive rhymes are the same rhyme. In other words there is a shift from
‘bed/stead’ to ‘do/blue’.
In
the two line verses the first line rhymes with the previous verse and the
second line rhymes with the following verse; both lines, then, are involved
with rhyming.
In
the three line verses the second line does not rhyme and adds some sonic
spice. My feeling is that if the second
line of the three line verse was also involved in the rhyme scheme it would
tend to become too sing-song. The second
line of the three line verse adds a little variety and unpredictability to the
sonic flow.
Another
aspect of traditional Renga esthetic I’ve incorporated into rhyme usage is that
the last line of the first verse, the hokku, does not rhyme with the first line
of the second verse. This gives the
opening verse its traditional stand-alone feel.
Using the river metaphor I often rely on, the opening verse gives us the
setting, but the journey really begins with Verse 2, and hence the introduction
of rhyme begins with the last line of Verse 2 rhyming with the first line of
Verse 3.
What
is the effect of incorporating rhyme into Renga? The immediate effect is that when a poet
follows a rhyme scheme it limits the available words the poet can use. I felt this immediately. This is both a plus and a minus. It is a minus because what happens if I come
up with a really superb link, but the link does not lend itself to the rhyme
scheme? That can feel frustrating. It is a plus because if I relax into the
rhyme scheme commitment, it gives me more focus as I compose each new link. It is a way of whittling away at too many
possibilities.
Lately
I’ve experimented with the idea of using such a rhyme scheme in parts of a
Renga. This happened because I was
composing a Renga, and I came up with what I thought of as a really good link,
but it didn’t rhyme. By this time I had
written enough rhyming Renga to feel confident about my abilities and in this
instance I decided to forgo the rhyme and see what happened. I discovered that I was able to return to the
rhyme scheme a few verses later. What I
noticed is that the non-rhyming sequence stood out in this 20-verse Renga of
rhyming links.
The
Renga poet can use this, I think, to highlight, for example, a moon verse
sequence, or a fall verse sequence.
Instead of a sequence that is distinguished by lack of rhyme, what if
three to five verses followed this kind of rhyme scheme and they were all on
the same topic? It would add a lyrical
dimension to a moon sequence, particularly if the rest of the Renga did not
follow this rhyme scheme. In other
words, the rhyme scheme is not an either/or.
It can be used in an entire Renga, but it can also be used as an
effective means for creating unity in a topic field. And the reverse is also true: in a Renga that
follows this rhyme scheme, the absence of rhyme for three to five verses will
highlight those particular verses as significant.
I
have come to regard this approach to rhyme in Renga as an optional tool. Sometimes I use it, and often I do not. It is a tool that the English language offers
the Renga poet as part of our English language heritage.
In
closing I suggest that if you are interested in this approach to rhyme in renga
that you click on the ‘renga’ label listed at the right of this blog. I have posted some renga that use this rhyme
scheme. The Renga ‘Flow of Grace’ is my
personal favorite.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Sound Steals Mind
The first of Taurus,
A cool wind bends the lilacs
Under a gray sky
The sound of wailing sirens . . .
The police?, an ambulance?
A cool wind bends the lilacs
Under a gray sky
The sound of wailing sirens . . .
The police?, an ambulance?
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Renga Ramblings 4
Renga
Ramblings 4
The
Pulse of the Poem
When
I first began composing Renga I wrote in the free verse style that is
widespread among western Renga poets. (You
can see a few examples of this approach in ‘The Narrow Road to Renga’,
published by Jane Reichhold and her Aha Press.) My belief is that this free verse approach to
lineation has established itself in western Renga because almost all of the poets who are
interested in Renga have their roots in free verse Haiku. And even when that is not the case, they will
have absorbed free verse norms simply from learning about poetry today from
college courses and poetry workshops. I’m
suggesting that free verse approaches to lineation are, for many poets,
normative.
The
change for me came when I read Steven Carter’s “The Road to Kommatsubara”,
which is an annotated translation of a Hyakuin Renga (100 Verses) by Sogi,
along with a lengthy historical introduction and the translation of a manual of
Renga construction. I noted that Carter
stuck fairly closely to the 5-7-5 and 7-7 pattern of the Renga verses. Carter’s translation also contains a parallel
transliteration. I began to recite the
Japanese transliteration, just to get a feel for the sonic dimension of the
Renga. Carter’s translation is
interspersed with many notes, annotations, and esthetic asides. This means that the translation only has a
few verses in a row before some annotations appear; so I was able to take small
chunks of the Renga and recite the verses to get a feel for the sound.
I
then turned to Earl Miner’s book “Japanese Linked Poetry” which contains a
translation of my favorite Renga, ‘Sogi Alone’.
Miner’s layout allows one to read the transliteration uninterrupted from
beginning to end. When I did this I
uncovered a dimension of Renga that I had not understood before. I call this the ‘Renga River’, or the ‘Renga
Pulse’. There is a subtle ebb and flow
as the lines change length. There is a
steady pulse, but the pulse is like the flow of a river. Or, and this is the best analogy I’ve come up
with, it has the feel of canoeing down a stream; there is the pull of the oars,
followed by a few moments of coasting.
What
suddenly hit me is that it is precisely this pulse which serves to hold the
images of a Renga together. It is a
dimension of beauty in Renga that emerges only when there is a regularity of
line, a formal construction. This is
part of the meaning of the formal parameters of Renga; of the 5-7-5 and 7-7
verse sequences. I wanted to reflect
this dimension of Renga in my own Renga composition. For this reason I began to compose Renga in a
formal fashion, mimicking the syllable count of the Japanese.
This
underlying unity of flow is, I think, an important element of why Renga works. In a poetic form that is non-narrative, where
the links between verses, how they relate to each other, can, at times, be
obscure or even completely opaque, what holds these images together? I would like to suggest that it is the
underlying pulse that gives Renga its sense of unity.
Elaborating
on the river metaphor; the images of a Renga resemble the sights and sounds one
encounters on a canoe trip. If I were to
write up my canoe trip as a series of images, in many ways it would have a
Renga feel to it. Except that what would
be missing from my write up would be the flow of the canoe on the river
itself. By having a regulated line,
Renga offers the poet and reader access to the flow of the journey.
I
began chanting my Renga in a very simple manner. I just wanted to see how that would
work. And sure enough, the pulse
emerged. In a sense one can view the
verses of a Renga as verses of a song and it is the underlying meter that ties
all the verses together.
The
end result of this was to compose Renga as a type of formal verse in English,
again mimicking the 5-7-5 and 7-7 syllable count of the Japanese. This seemed to work well for me. In fact, by now it has become second nature.
A
few years after shifting to a formal verse structure for Renga I encountered
some Renga poets who had gone through a similar evolution in their Renga
writing. The specifics differed; they
did not move to a more consistently formal usage by reading Carter and Miner,
although they were familiar with these authors.
Rather, they found over time that a regulated line gave the Renga a
sense of unity and a stronger sense of flow.
My friends didn’t adhere to 5-7-5 and 7-7 that I do. Instead they would attempt to consider the
lineation of the link they were linking to and to mimic it in their own links,
thereby giving the overall Renga a greater sense of uniformity.
I
am very encouraged by the results of my own Renga composition and those of
others. I believe that a longer line in
Renga, longer than one finds in minimalist Haiku, contributes to the overall
sense of an underlying current that holds the images together. And I have come to feel the wisdom of such a
formal approach. Such an approach
contributes significantly to the pleasure that a well written Renga has to
offer.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Ecclesiastes
Overcast morning
The sound of two crows cawing
In the windless warmth
Dew upon the Douglas Fir
Seen through the venetian blinds
After a moment
He returns to his laptop
To check his email
Rolling out of a driveway,
The neighbor's new S.U.V.
Bright in the moonlight
Of the waxing gibbous moon
Keeping track of time
Her mother-in-law's birthday
Coincides with golden leaves
At the gift shop
Rows and rows of greeting cards
For all occasions
Reading Ecclesiastes
The minister takes comfort
Even though the snow
Lies in drifts upon the ground
And the sky is gray
Unexpectedly the mist
Rises in the warm March air
Around the plum tree
A few petals have fallen
From a few branches
Two friends have to acknowledge
That they are now far apart
The sound of two crows cawing
In the windless warmth
Dew upon the Douglas Fir
Seen through the venetian blinds
After a moment
He returns to his laptop
To check his email
Rolling out of a driveway,
The neighbor's new S.U.V.
Bright in the moonlight
Of the waxing gibbous moon
Keeping track of time
Her mother-in-law's birthday
Coincides with golden leaves
At the gift shop
Rows and rows of greeting cards
For all occasions
Reading Ecclesiastes
The minister takes comfort
Even though the snow
Lies in drifts upon the ground
And the sky is gray
Unexpectedly the mist
Rises in the warm March air
Around the plum tree
A few petals have fallen
From a few branches
Two friends have to acknowledge
That they are now far apart
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Riverscape
The rain's falling all day long
Here on the Russian River
The sky slowly turns to night,
Mists make the trees look darker
Here on the Russian River
The sky slowly turns to night,
Mists make the trees look darker
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