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HaikU
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haikU is a browser-based, audience participatory, haiku poem project. The project displays randomly generated haiku poems, and allows the Internet audience to contribute to the project's database of haiku lines.[1] The project is known as a work of electronic literature and for its use of an evolving database,[2] and for the relative coherence of its output.[3][4][5] It was created by Nanette Wylde in 2001 and is considered a form of interactive digital poetry.
Description
[edit]haikU is an early example of internet coding for creative output. It was written using cgi[6] with html and perl in 2001. The project creator states, "This project is an homage to early Internet programmers who created the first web-based, audience-participatory, creative works, often in the form of haiku generators."[7]
Upon entering the website the viewer is presented with a haiku poem in standard (English) five-seven-five syllabic structure. Each poem is created from random selections of haiku lines from three separate repositories which follow the five-seven-five syllabic structure. The opening page has buttons to create a new poem, to contribute one's own lines to the three haiku repositories, and to learn more about the project and haiku poetry. Poems do not repeat upon refresh. The project is primarily in English, but on occasion lines in a variety of languages appear.
Elit scholar, Scott Rettberg writes "Nanette Wylde’s haikU (2001) is a project based on principles of user participation and on the use of a randomizing function to produce haiku that startle in the sense of producing unintended juxtapositions—no single author has determined which lines will appear together. The reading interface is a simple, spare web page. Every time a reader reloads the page, a new haiku is produced. Following a link to “Write haiku” individuals can submit their own haiku in three lines, each of which has its own button to post the line to bins of first, middle, and last lines. The poems delivered on each reload of the site are not the individual haiku as submitted by readers, but recombinations of these first, middle, and last lines of haiku pulled together in a variable way. Reloading the page twenty times or so, it is remarkable how many of the poems read as if they have been individually intended by a human intelligence. Most of the haiku, perhaps 80%, cohere quite well as poetry."[3]
Reception
[edit]HaikU has received critical attention from the electronic literature community[3] and contemporary art writers.[1]
Scott Rettberg states, "In haikU, the combinatory form and structure of the project, in concert with the form and structure of the poetic form, and the fairly subtle instructions to contributors, lead to the production of a poetic database that works fairly well. While extremely simple in concept and execution, the combination of human-written lines and arbitrary structure results in new poetry neither completely determined by any human nor free of authorial intention."[3]
Star writes, "Wylde’s use of the regenerative haiku changes how the haiku is perceived by her audience. Although the sequence of words is spontaneous and unpredictable they seem to flow together creating meaning. Part of the experience of the poem is breathing its first, last, and only meaning into it. Once the upper left hand dots have been clicked the haiku is gone possibly forever because people are constantly adding new lines to the generator. Although they were shown individually I argue that just as Wylde encourages her audience to contribute to the regeneration of the haiku, Wylde also intends for her interactive audience to create their own ties and breaks where it seems organic."[8]
Another reviewer states, "I like how open-ended haikU feels, and therefore how personal. . . it allows you to make your own connections, but you are also free to make no connections between the different haiku. This allows the reader to become partly a creator and make their own meaning for the poems. That’s one thing I find unique to electronic literature in general and this kind of randomly generated poetry in particular; the reader’s interpretation becomes a part of the work itself."[8]
haikU is taught in college level electronic literature courses.[8]
References
[edit]- ^ a b Kanai, Miki (2002). "Web Reviews" (PDF). N.paradoxa. 10. United Kingdom: KT Press (published July 2002): 95. ISSN 1461-0434.
- ^ "Visible and Invisible Archives: The Database Aesthetics of The Atlas Group Archive and haikU | ELMCIP". elmcip.net. Retrieved 2023-10-12.
- ^ a b c d Rettberg, Scott (2013). "Human Computation in Electronic Literature". In Michelucci, Pietro (ed.). Handbook of Human Computation. New York: Springer. pp. 187–203. ISBN 978-1493948154.
- ^ Flores, Leonardo (2013-04-02). ""Times Haiku" by Jacob Harris and The New York Times". I ❤️ E-Poetry. Retrieved 2023-10-12.
- ^ Müller-Zettelmann, Eva; Rubik, Margarete (2005). Theory into Poetry: New Approaches to the Lyric (ist ed.). Leiden, Netherlands: BRILL. p. 321. ISBN 978-90-420-1906-5.
- ^ "CGI (Common Gateway Interface) | ELMCIP". elmcip.net. Retrieved 2023-10-13.
- ^ "about haikU". preneo.org. Retrieved 2023-10-12.
- ^ a b c "ENGL 376VV. A literature course at the University of Mary Washington". ENGL 376VV. A literature course at the University of Mary Washington. January 21, 2014.
External links
[edit]HaikU
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Definition and Form
Syllabic Structure
The syllabic structure of haiku is defined by its use of on (also known as onji or morae), which are the fundamental sound units in Japanese phonology. Unlike Western syllables, which are typically organized around a vowel nucleus and may vary in length due to stress or consonant clusters, a Japanese on represents a roughly equal timing unit, often corresponding to a vowel, a consonant-vowel pair, a long vowel (counted as two on), a nasal consonant like "n," or a compressed double consonant like "pp" or "tt."[5] For instance, the word kaasan ("mother") consists of two syllables (kaa-san) but four on (ka-a-sa-n), as the long vowel "aa" and the trailing nasal "n" each form separate units.[5] This moraic system emphasizes rhythmic consistency over syllabic weight, allowing haiku to maintain a compact, balanced flow.[6] The 5-7-5 pattern of haiku traces its origins to the hokku, the opening stanza of renga, a collaborative linked-verse form popular in medieval Japan where poets alternated composing stanzas to build extended poems. In renga, the hokku adhered to a 5-7-5 on structure to establish the poem's initial rhythm and theme, totaling 17 on across three phrases, which provided a concise yet evocative start before linking to subsequent 7-7 stanzas. This metrical framework, rooted in earlier Japanese poetic traditions like waka, ensured brevity and sonic harmony suited to oral performance and seasonal allusion.[6] Traditional haiku preserve this exact 17-on total in a 5-7-5 arrangement, often incorporating a kireji (cutting word) to create a structural pause that divides the poem into two interrelated parts.[6] However, modern haiku, particularly in non-Japanese languages, exhibit greater flexibility, with many poets varying line lengths or syllable counts to prioritize the form's essence of brevity and juxtaposition over rigid adherence to 17 units.[6] In English adaptations, for example, works frequently range from 10 to 16 syllables while maintaining a sense of concision equivalent to the original's temporal brevity.[6]Cutting and Seasonal Words
In haiku, kireji, or "cutting words," serve as pivotal linguistic devices that introduce a pause, emphasis, or shift, dividing the poem into distinct parts while fostering juxtaposition between images or ideas.[7] These words, often particles or auxiliary verbs, create a rhetorical "cut" that invites reflection, contrast, or emotional resonance, without a direct equivalent in English.[8] Common types include "ya," which emphasizes and sets a scene, often appearing at the beginning or middle to draw attention; "kana," expressing wonder or pathos at the end; "ka," indicating a question or surprise; and "keri," denoting past realization or continuation.[7] Kireji evolved from the traditions of renga, the collaborative linked-verse form, where they interrupted the rhythmic flow to link stanzas and signal thematic transitions.[8] Kigo, or seasonal words, anchor haiku to the natural cycles of the year, evoking temporality and a sense of place through references to weather, flora, fauna, or human activities tied to specific seasons.[9] These words are categorized broadly by season—spring, summer, autumn, winter, and New Year—with subcategories such as sky and elements (e.g., spring rain), landscape (e.g., flooded rivers in spring), human affairs (e.g., festivals), animals (e.g., butterflies in spring), and plants (e.g., cherry blossoms for spring).[9] Cherry blossoms (sakura), a quintessential spring kigo, symbolize ephemerality and are detailed in saijiki, comprehensive dictionaries that compile and classify thousands of such terms to ensure traditional accuracy and cultural nuance in composition.[10] The interplay between kireji and kigo structures haiku into two juxtaposed images or phrases—often divided after the 5-7 syllable segment of the traditional 5-7-5 form—heightening contrast or harmony to evoke mono no aware, the poignant awareness of impermanence and pathos in transient things.[11] This interaction amplifies emotional depth: a kigo establishes seasonal context, while a kireji cuts to a related yet contrasting element, mirroring nature's fleeting beauty and human sensitivity to it.[8] Around the 1890s, poet Masaoka Shiki reformed kigo usage by emphasizing naturalism, urging poets to depict seasons realistically and integrate them with personal observation rather than formulaic allusions.[12]Historical Origins
Roots in Renga and Hokku
Renga, a collaborative form of linked verse poetry, emerged in Japan during the 12th century as a social and artistic practice where multiple poets alternated composing stanzas to create extended chains, often reaching 100 verses or more.[13] Renga encompassed both serious (ushin) and comic (haikai) variants, with the latter's lighter, humorous stanzas influencing the development of haiku. The opening stanza of a renga, known as the hokku, set the thematic tone, typically incorporating a seasonal reference and establishing a mood for the subsequent links.[14] This structure fostered improvisation and interplay among participants, drawing from earlier waka traditions but emphasizing communal creativity over individual expression.[13] In its early development, the hokku adopted the 17-mora (5-7-5) structure of the tanka's upper hemistich, serving to set the tone before additional links were added in the collaborative renga.[15] This evolution continued through the Muromachi period (1336–1573), when renga gained widespread popularity among courtiers, warriors, and commoners, with formalized rules and renowned masters like Sōgi elevating it to a sophisticated literary art.[14] The period's cultural milieu, deeply influenced by Zen Buddhism, infused renga—and particularly the hokku—with themes of transience, enlightenment, and brevity, encouraging poets to capture momentary insights into nature and existence.[16] By the 17th century, the hokku had begun to circulate independently, foreshadowing its separation from the collaborative chain.[13] The modern application of the term "haiku" to the standalone 17-syllable poem, distinguishing it from its collaborative roots in renga, was introduced around 1891 by the poet Masaoka Shiki, who sought to reform and elevate the form beyond its origins in linked verse.[17]Evolution into Independent Form
During the Edo period (1603–1868), the hokku, originally the opening stanza of collaborative renga poetry, increasingly gained appreciation as a standalone composition, marking the initial detachment from its linked-verse origins and laying the groundwork for haiku's independence.[18] This shift reflected broader cultural changes, as haiku moved away from elite, group-based creation toward individual expression, though it retained structural elements like the 5-7-5 syllabic pattern, kigo (seasonal reference), and kireji (cutting word).[19] In the Meiji era (1868–1912), amid Japan's rapid modernization and Western influences, Masaoka Shiki (1867–1902) catalyzed haiku's full evolution into an autonomous genre by applying the term "haiku" to it in the 1890s and advocating the shasei ("sketch from life") approach, which emphasized objective, realistic depiction of everyday scenes drawn from direct observation rather than fictional or stylized elements. Influenced by Western realist art, including ideas from John Ruskin introduced via Italian painter Antonio Fontanesi, Shiki's reforms rejected haiku's perceived stagnation—elevating its haikai-derived comic roots to serious literature—and repositioned it as a modern literary form accessible beyond aristocratic circles.[20] To promote these changes, Shiki contributed to the founding of the haiku magazine Hototogisu in 1897 by his associate Kyokudo Yanagihara, which became a key platform for disseminating standalone haiku and fostering new practitioners.[21] By the 20th century, haiku's democratization accelerated through haiku societies and periodicals like Hototogisu, transforming it from an esoteric pursuit into a widespread, inclusive art form that reflected societal shifts toward urbanization and everyday life.[19] Modern innovations, such as jiyūritsu (free-meter) and muki (seasonless) haiku, allowed incorporation of urban themes—depicting cityscapes, technology, and contemporary experiences—expanding beyond traditional nature-focused subjects while maintaining haiku's concise essence.[19]Major Japanese Poets
Bashō and Early Masters
Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694) emerged as the preeminent haiku poet of the 17th century, transforming the form from its origins as the opening stanza of collaborative renga sequences into a standalone expression of profound insight and natural harmony.[22] Born in Ueno, present-day Mie Prefecture, Bashō initially served as a samurai before dedicating himself to poetry and Zen practice, adopting the name derived from the bashō (banana plant) that grew at his Edo hermitage.[23] His extensive travels across Japan, undertaken as a wandering monk, inspired works that captured fleeting moments of beauty and transience, influencing haiku's emphasis on observation and impermanence.[24] Bashō's travelogues, notably The Narrow Road to the Deep North (Oku no Hosomichi, 1694), exemplify his innovative blending of prose and haiku to evoke the rhythms of journey and landscape.[25] These haibun—prose-poem hybrids—integrated descriptive narrative with poetic fragments, allowing haiku to punctuate reflections on nature's subtleties and human ephemerality, a technique that elevated the genre's literary depth.[26] Over 1,000 of his haiku survive, showcasing his mastery in distilling complex emotions into 17 syllables.[27] Central to Bashō's aesthetic was the philosophy of sabi, evoking a patinated loneliness or aged tranquility that finds beauty in solitude and quiet decay, often contrasted with vibrant natural elements to highlight timeless insight.[28] Later in life, he refined this with karumi, emphasizing lightness and accessibility, drawing from everyday language to infuse haiku with unpretentious grace and universal resonance, as articulated in his teachings to disciples like Kyorai.[29] A quintessential example is his 1686 frog pond haiku, where the kireji (cutting word) creates a sudden perceptual shift, mirroring the splash's disruption of stillness to reveal deeper awareness.[23] Among Bashō's contemporaries, Nishiyama Sōin (1605–1682) played a foundational role through the Danrin school, which promoted a playful, witty approach to haikai poetry that broke from classical rigidity.[30] Sōin's emphasis on humorous diction and innovative wordplay influenced early haiku by encouraging motifs of travel and nature as sites of spontaneous discovery, paving the way for Bashō's more contemplative style.[31] This school's lighthearted experimentation helped establish haiku's versatility, blending levity with observational acuity to appeal beyond elite circles.[31]Buson, Issa, and Shiki's Reforms
Yosa Buson (1716–1784), a prominent Edo-period poet and painter, expanded haiku's artistic scope through his integration of visual imagery, drawing on his expertise in haiga—haiku paired with ink sketches.[32] His works often evoked a painterly vividness, capturing natural scenes with rich, sensory details that emphasized wabi, the aesthetic of simplicity and rustic imperfection, while building on Matsuo Bashō's foundational legacy of contemplative depth.[33] For instance, in one haiku, Buson writes:White plum blossomsThis piece highlights his focus on subtle, evocative imagery that blends poetry and painting to suggest transience without overt sentiment.[35] Kobayashi Issa (1763–1828), another key figure in the late Edo period, infused haiku with personal humor and profound empathy, often drawing from his experiences of poverty and loss to humanize everyday subjects like insects and small creatures.[36] Over his lifetime, Issa composed more than 20,000 haiku, many reflecting a compassionate worldview shaped by his hardships, including family tragedies and financial struggles.[37] His style departed from stricter traditional forms by incorporating colloquial language and warmth, as seen in haiku that anthropomorphize nature's underdogs, such as:
In the night I thought I saw
The light of dawn.[34]
Even with insects—A poignant example is his 1822 haiku on impermanence, written amid personal grief:
some can sing,
some can't.[38]
A world of dew,This verse, rooted in Buddhist concepts of mujō (transience), underscores the fleeting nature of existence while conveying reluctant attachment to life.[40] Masaoka Shiki (1867–1902), a Meiji-era reformer, transformed haiku into a modern literary form by advocating shasei (sketching from life), which prioritized objective realism over subjective fantasy or seasonal conventions alone.[20] He formally renamed the opening stanza of linked verse (hokku) as haiku in the 1890s, elevating it as an independent genre and distancing it from playful haikai traditions to align with contemporary aesthetics.[41] Shiki's chronic tuberculosis, which confined him to bed from his mid-20s, deepened his introspective themes, often weaving personal suffering with precise observations of nature and urban life.[42] In a representative haiku from his sickbed diary, he captures this blend:
A mere world of dew!
And yet, and yet...[39]
Pain from coughing—Through such reforms, Shiki professionalized haiku, influencing its evolution toward direct, unadorned expression.[44]
the long night's lamp flame
small as a pea.[43]
Traditional Examples
Classic Haiku by Bashō
Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694), revered as the master of haiku, elevated the form through his emphasis on sabi (wabi-sabi aesthetics of solitude and impermanence) and integration of Zen principles, producing works that capture fleeting moments in nature to evoke deeper philosophical insights.[45] His haiku often employ kigo (seasonal words) to anchor the scene in time and kireji (cutting words) to create juxtaposition, allowing readers to contemplate the interplay between stillness and change. Bashō's compositions, drawn from his travels and observations, exemplify the traditional 5-7-5 syllable structure while prioritizing evocative imagery over narrative.[23] One of Bashō's most iconic haiku, the "old pond" poem from 1686, illustrates his minimalist technique: Original Japanese:古池や
蛙飛び込む
水の音 Romanization:
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto English Translations:
- "The old pond; / A frog jumps in— / The sound of the water." (trans. Makoto Ueda)[46]
- "An old silent pond... / A frog jumps into the pond— / Splash! Silence again." (trans. Robert Hass)[46]
夏草や
兵共が
夢の跡 Romanization:
Natsu kusa ya
tsuwamono-domo ga
yume no ato English Translations:
- "Summer grasses— / all that remains / of warriors’ dreams." (trans. Robert Hass)[46]
- "Summer grass— / traces of dreams / of ancient warriors." (trans. Jane Reichhold)[46]
枯枝に
鴉のとまりけり
秋の暮 Romanization:
Kare eda ni
karasu no tomari keri
aki no kure English Translations:
- "On a withered branch / A crow has alighted: / Nightfall in autumn." (trans. Robert Hass)[48]
- "A crow / has settled on a bare branch— / autumn evening." (trans. Makoto Ueda)[48]
閑さや
岩にしみ入る
蝉の声 Romanization:
Shizukasa ya
iwa ni shimi iru
semi no koe English Translations:
- "Stillness— / seeping into the rocks, / the cicada’s cry." (trans. Robert Hass)[46]
- "The stillness— / penetrating the rocks, / cicadas’ shrilling." (trans. Makoto Ueda)[46]
Haiku by Buson and Issa
Yosa Buson (1716–1783), a prominent haiku poet and painter of the Edo period, distinguished himself through haiku rich in visual imagery, often evoking the sensuous details of nature and human experience. His works frequently draw on his artistic background, blending poetic precision with painterly observation to capture fleeting moments. Buson's integration of haiku with haiga—a traditional form combining poetry and sketch—exemplifies this approach, as seen in his own haiga works where simple ink drawings accompany verses to enhance their evocative power.[49] Buson's haiku often highlight seasonal atmospheres with sensual depth, such as in his depiction of autumn evenings: "A fishing line / blown in the autumn wind." Translated by Yuki Sawa and Edith M. Shiffert, this captures the gentle sway of the line against a cooling breeze, inviting sensory immersion in the landscape's quiet beauty.[50] Another evokes solitude under the moon: "A tea stall / deserted under a full moon." Here, the empty stall bathed in lunar light conveys a poignant, tactile emptiness, blending visual clarity with emotional resonance. These pieces reflect Buson's tendency to infuse haiku with sensuality, using vivid, almost painterly details to evoke the textures and moods of the natural world, departing from earlier austerity toward a more ornate lyricism.[50][51] In contrast, Kobayashi Issa (1763–1828) infused his haiku with warmth and pathos, drawing from everyday life and a deep empathy for humble creatures, often reflecting his own hardships. His poetry humanizes the ordinary, finding tenderness in the struggles of insects and animals. A quintessential example is his haiku addressing perseverance: "O snail, / climb Mount Fuji, / but slowly, slowly!" Translated by David G. Lanoue, this gentle encouragement to the snail embodies Issa's compassionate voice, transforming a mundane observation into a meditation on effort and humility.[52] Another highlights pathos through animal life: "Sparrow's child, / out of the way, out of the way! / The stallion's coming through." In this translation by Robert Hass, Issa injects urgency and care into the scene, portraying the vulnerability of the small amid the rush of the larger world.[53] Issa's haiku prioritize emotional warmth, often anthropomorphizing animals to evoke sympathy and shared existence, as analyzed in scholarly examinations of his Buddhist-influenced perspective on sentient beings. Unlike Buson's sensual landscapes, Issa's work roots pathos in the intimate details of daily survival, fostering a sense of universal kinship. Modern translations, such as those by R.H. Blyth and Hass in collections like The Essential Haiku, preserve this accessibility, allowing readers to appreciate Issa's innovative emphasis on humor and heartfelt observation.[54][55]Western Introduction
Early Translators and Promoters
The introduction of haiku to Western audiences began in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, primarily through Japanese expatriates who lectured and published translations in Europe. Yone Noguchi, a Japanese poet writing in English, played a pivotal role by delivering lectures on Japanese poetry, including haiku (then often called hokku), at institutions such as Magdalen College, Oxford, and the Japan Society in London in 1913. These presentations, invited by Poet Laureate Robert Bridges, highlighted haiku's concise form and nature imagery, making it accessible to English-speaking intellectuals and influencing early modernist poets.[56] Similarly, Harukichi Shimoi, a Japanese scholar and poet residing in Italy during World War I, introduced haiku to European audiences through lectures and publications in the early 1920s. Shimoi's work, including his 1920 book Versificazioni giapponesi featuring translations of Matsuo Bashō's haiku, bridged Japanese poetics with Italian futurism, fostering cultural exchange via collaborations like the Sakura magazine published by the University of Naples in 1920–1921.[57] By the 1910s, the first anthologies of Japanese literature in English began incorporating haiku translations, marking a shift from isolated examples to curated collections. In 1910, English and French anthologies of Japanese texts included selections of haiku, drawing attention from Western poets experimenting with brevity and imagery, such as the Imagists.[58] These early compilations, often embedded within broader surveys of Japanese verse, introduced readers to haiku's seasonal references (kigo) and structural pauses (kireji), though without full contextual explanation, leading to varied interpretations.[58] Translating haiku into Western languages presented significant challenges, particularly with elements like kireji—the "cutting word" that creates a juxtaposition or shift in perspective—and kigo, the seasonal word evoking time and mood. These features rely on Japanese grammar, cultural allusions, and suggestion rather than explicit syntax, often resulting in misunderstandings when rendered in English, where punctuation or line breaks might substitute imperfectly for kireji, diluting the poem's subtlety.[59] Early translators frequently omitted or approximated these, prioritizing literal meaning over haiku's philosophical resonance, which contributed to initial perceptions of the form as simplistic nature snapshots rather than profound insights.[59] A landmark in overcoming these hurdles was the work of R.H. Blyth (1898–1964), an English scholar and Japan resident who became a foremost promoter of haiku's depth. Blyth's four-volume Haiku series, published between 1949 and 1952, offered extensive translations of classical and pre-modern haiku, emphasizing their Zen-inspired philosophical and aesthetic layers beyond mere description.[60] His annotations explored haiku's interplay of impermanence and enlightenment, influencing post-war Western appreciation and distinguishing it from earlier superficial introductions.[61]Mid-20th Century Developments
Following World War II, Reginald Horace Blyth's multi-volume Haiku series (1949–1952) exerted a profound and enduring influence on Western perceptions of the form, emphasizing its Zen-inspired brevity and seasonal imagery as a bridge between Eastern aesthetics and modern sensibilities.[60] Building on earlier scholarly introductions, Blyth's works shaped the post-war revival of interest in haiku among English-speaking audiences, fostering a deeper appreciation for its philosophical underpinnings.[62] Academic contributions further solidified haiku's place in Western literary studies during this period. Kenneth Yasuda's 1957 book, The Japanese Haiku: Its Essential Nature, History, and Possibilities in English, with Selected Examples, provided a systematic analysis of the form's structure, including its reliance on a pivotal "haiku moment" of intense perception, seasonal references (kigo), and a cutting word (kireji) to evoke juxtaposition.[63] Similarly, Harold G. Henderson, a professor of Japanese at Columbia University, advanced haiku's dissemination through his 1958 anthology An Introduction to Haiku: An Anthology of Poems and Poets from Bashō to Shiki, which featured his own translations and explanatory essays that highlighted the form's rhythmic and imagistic qualities.[64] Henderson's efforts, including earlier essays on translation challenges, underscored haiku's adaptability to English while preserving its essence.[65] Institutional growth marked a key consolidation of haiku in the West. The Haiku Society of America (HSA), co-founded in 1968 by Henderson and Leroy Kanterman, emerged as the first major organization dedicated to promoting haiku composition and appreciation in English, starting with 21 charter members.[66] This was complemented by the launch of Frogpond, the HSA's official journal, with its inaugural issue in February 1978, which became a vital platform for publishing original English haiku and critical discussions.[67] Creative experimentation also flourished, particularly among Beat Generation writers. In the late 1950s, Jack Kerouac adapted haiku into his spontaneous prose style, drawing parallels between the form's concise immediacy and jazz improvisation; his notebook haiku from this era, later collected in Book of Haikus (2003), blended urban observations with rhythmic freedom, as heard in his 1959 album Blues and Haikus accompanied by saxophonists Al Cohn and Zoot Sims.[68]Global Adaptations
English-Language Haiku
English-language haiku emerged in the early 20th century but gained significant traction in the mid-20th century, with poets initially adhering strictly to the 5-7-5 syllable structure borrowed from Japanese models, while later developments emphasized brevity and essence over rigid syllable counts, often limiting poems to under 17 syllables or allowing free-form variations that prioritize natural rhythm and juxtaposition.[69] This evolution reflects a tension between fidelity to traditional form and adaptation to English's phonetic and syntactic differences, where syllable counting can feel artificial, leading many contemporary poets to focus on concision, seasonal reference (kigo), and a cutting word (kireji) equivalent for pause or shift.[70] The 1960s marked a pivotal minimalist movement in English haiku, driven by poets seeking stark, objective imagery akin to Japanese aesthetics, with publications like American Haiku (1963–1968) serving as a key outlet for this experimental wave that stripped haiku to essential perceptions of the everyday.[71] This period drew heavily from imagism's influence, particularly Ezra Pound's advocacy for precise, concrete images in poetry, as seen in his 1913 piece "In a Station of the Metro," which echoes haiku's economy and superposition of images to evoke deeper resonance without explanation.[72] Earlier translators like R.H. Blyth had laid groundwork by introducing haiku to Western audiences through anthologies emphasizing its philosophical depth, influencing imagists and later minimalists.[73] Modern English haiku often expands beyond rural nature to urban and personal themes, as exemplified by Richard Wright's posthumously published collection Haiku: This Other World (1998), which captures cityscapes and introspection, such as:Whitecaps on the bay: / A broken signboard banging / In the April wind.[74] Similarly, Anselm Hollo's playful yet incisive works blend humor with urban immediacy, like:
follow that airplane / of course I'm high / this is an emergency.[75] These innovations highlight haiku's adaptability to contemporary life, moving from serene landscapes to the grit of modern existence. The Haiku North America conferences, inaugurated in 1991, have fostered community and discourse among English-language haiku practitioners, convening biennially to share works, workshops, and readings that bridge traditional and experimental approaches, with the 2025 event scheduled for September 24–28 in San Francisco, California.[76] Ongoing debates about "true" haiku—whether it requires nature imagery, seasonal words, or strict form—animate journals like Modern Haiku, where contributors argue for a broad, inclusive definition that honors haiku's spirit of momentary enlightenment over dogmatic rules.[77] Such discussions underscore the form's vitality, with proponents of free verse challenging purists while affirming haiku's core as a lens for perceiving interconnectedness.[78] In American public education, haiku is commonly taught with a strong emphasis on the 5-7-5 syllable structure, particularly in elementary and high school English language arts curricula, where it serves as an accessible introduction to poetry and syllable counting skills. For instance, lesson plans often require students to compose haiku adhering to this format to build community and creativity.[79] Similarly, curriculum units from institutions like the Yale-New Haven Teachers Institute focus on the 5-7-5 form as a foundational element.[80] This emphasis persists in popular perception despite advice from haiku experts and organizations, such as the Haiku Society of America, recommending greater flexibility in English adaptations to prioritize brevity, juxtaposition, and philosophical depth over rigid syllable counts. Scholars argue that the 5-7-5 is an "urban myth" in English haiku, as Japanese onji (sound units) do not directly translate to English syllables, and strict adherence can hinder the form's natural expression.[81][82][7] Discussions in higher education, as explored by Randy Brooks, further highlight evolving teaching practices that move beyond syllable constraints.[83]