Despite the fact haikai was a native Japanese poetic genre, it was closely linked with the world of sinophile intellectuals that flourished in [the eighteenth century], and the Basho Revival owned much to the ideas and notions that circulated within it.
-- Cheryl A. Crowley
Bason’s cultural make-up was essentially bi-national, the Chinese and native Japanese elements woven together in a seamless fabric.
-- John Rosenfield
Written in the Japanese tradition of honkadori, 1 Yosa Buson’s frog hokku opens up a window into the lamentable situation of the eighteenth century haikau community.
Soo no ku o osoite Inheriting one of our ancestor’s verses
furu ike no the old pond's
kawazu oiyuku frog is growing elderly
ochiba kana fallen leaves 2
First of all, semantically speaking, the above poem is made up of two parts that are separated by a kireji (cutting word), kana. The first part is that in the old pond there is an aging frog, whose honi (poetic essence) is “suggestive of spring,… [implying] vigor and youth.” 3 The second part introduces the reader to the scene fallen leaves, whose honi refers to winter. 4
Secondly, technically speaking, Buson employs the puzzle-solving technique to hold the reader in suspense in the first part of the poem (a supposedly youthful and energetic frog is getting old), and he solves the puzzle in the second part through shifting the scene to a winter setting where the seemingly disparate elements of the poem suddenly make sense: the frog is approaching old age, hibernating under fallen leaves that cover the ice in an old pond. 5
Thirdly, according to the headnote that mentions “one of our ancestor’s verses,” Buson makes a honkadori to Basho’s most memorable hokku.
Furu ike ya the old pond
kawazu tobikomu a frog jumps in
mizu no oto the sound of water 6
By using Basho’s old poem as raw material and the device of alluding, Buson re-shapes the old poem and makes the intention and technique of re-shaping itself the object of appreciation. 7 In doing so, Buson creates a startling twist on the accepted meaning of the old poem, which is the skillfully Basho-esque use of “haikai imagination” described in Haruo Shirane’s Traces of Dreams. 8 Connotatively speaking, Buson laments that Basho’s frog, which is suggestive of spring, has no strength to jump into the old pond, and just grows old, buried by the fallen leaves that are associated with winter. 9
Finally, read with the knowledge that Buson’s hokku is a parody of Basho’s, it is reasonable to read Buson’s poem as commentary on the pitiful situations of the haikai genre of his day: “That is, a statement of frustration and dissatisfaction with the popular neglect of Basho’s teachings. In other words, a once energetic and youthful animal -- Basho’s poetic legacy -- is now dormant and aging in the frozen barrenness of the contemporary haikai community.” 10
Due to the scope and main focus of this chapter and for readers who are interested in the East Asian poetic traditions, I will discuss the root causes of this “frozen barrenness of the contemporary haikai community” and the Chinese influences, especially the ideal of the bunjin (Chinese: wenren, which means scholar-amateur), on Buson, the leading figure in the Basho Revival moment. 11
Read the full text here...
Haijinx, IV-1, March 2011
