Katô Ikuya (1929.1-2012.5)

     Katô Ikuya was born, as the son of a haiku poet, in Tokyo in 1929. He graduated from the Literature Department of Waseda University, and began writing haiku, poems and essays while working for Nippon Television Network. He later resigned to devote himself to writing, and continues his activities today at his home in western Tokyo.
     Initially taught haiku composition by his father, Shishu, Ikuya has also been influenced by modern poetry, especially the work of Nishiwaki Junzaburô (1894-1982) and Yoshioka Minoru (1919-1990). Like the former, he is cosmospolitan and widely read, and like the latter he employs sharp images. His work displays a breadth of allusion that seems to align it with Modernism, while at the same time the parodic element links it with the haikai tradition. He was awarded the Tomizawa Kakio Prize for his collected haiku, Katô Ikuya haiku shûsei (2000), a substantial volume which gathers the work of ten previous collections and contains almost three thousand haiku. With the various explanatory notes that supplement the poems, this book runs to more than eight hundred pages. It is appropriate that the author should receive an award named for another experimental haiku poet. But the award also recognises his critical writing, on Bashô, and particularly on Kikaku, one of Bashô’s main disciples.
     Ikuya’s verses are not always easy to understand. On the one hand, they sometimes make allusions, or employ vocabulary, which may not be familiar to the general reader; on the other hand, too, they often parody existing work, and deliberately undermine accepted meanings. But the poet’s relish in the use of words for their own sake is evident throughout his compositions, both in the lexical choices and in the rhythm of each utterance. There is also an important element of humor, which helps to produce the ludic quality of traditional haikai. Besides being well versed in Shinto and the Japanese classics, Ikuya has also made a special study of Edo haikai. His own work adeptly ‘quotes’ the work of writers from the past, at once participating in and renewing the wider poetical inheritance. Indeed, his verses serve as an illustration of the “honkadori, or allusive variation” described earlier by Professor Shirane, “in which the poet takes a part of an earlier, well-known poem and incorporates it into his or her own poem.”
     It is not easy to render these verses into another language, and the versions here may be regarded as provisional. With the author’s approval, some attempt has been made to suggest an element of parody or play. The opening verse, for example, is well-known:

     The mood of this haiku is languorous, with a hint of post-coital calm and satisfaction. But it is also a verbal artifact, rhymthically constructed by the poet. While it is impossible to reproduce exactly, an effort has been made to suggest the play and balance of the original. Thus the flower (lit. ‘noon face’), which is sometimes rendered as ‘noon convolvulus’, has been given as a proper noun. This name, allied to the more common morning glory, in turn affords a repetition in the line that follows that attempts to replicate the repeated hiru of the original. Another notable feature of the poem is that the second half is written entirely in hiragana, including the name ‘Portugal’, for reasons that may have been aesthetic. Further meanings, historical, geographical and other, accrue from the country’s name, but these can be left for the reader to develop.
     The word ‘ginkgo’ in the second verse, though not in fact a Japanese word or obvious as wordplay, might remind the reader of ginkô, an outing for haiku composition and part of the meaning of the Japanese. In a similar way, the term ‘Farsee’, for a Persian, has been deliberately adopted in the third verse for its odd and antiquated spelling. The poet’s portmanteau pun in the eighth verse, ‘boomerancholy’, suggestive of returning sadness, has been left as it is: the combination works well in Japanese, where the ‘g’ of ‘boomerang’ is naturally elided, and ‘l’ and ‘r’ are read the same. ‘Corydon’ in the same verse evokes a weary aesthete, but is not necessarily a homosexual allusion; the name must also have been chosen for its sound. Elsewhere, the erotic overtones of chestnut blossom, or of shellfish, may be taken as intended, and as some part of the meaning of the original verses.
     The notes provide further information on some of the other contexts and allusions. One verse only, the twelfth, almost defies translation, but since the original is itself a kind of collage, this has been rendered almost literally. Yet another verse, the twenty-sixth, has been more freely given, even more so than other verses. The ‘horns’ belonging to the snail in this case represent a play on words, since the first two characters can also be read as ‘Kikaku’, the name of one of Bashô’s followers. Takarai Kikaku (1661-1707), whose own verses are notably parodic, has been an important influence on the author.
     The lexical complexity and rich suggestiveness of these haiku have few equivalents in English poetry. One parallel, however, might be found in the work of the Irish poet Paul Muldoon (b. 1951) who, since settling in the United States, has experimented with the haiku form. It is also important to remember that Ikuya’s forebears can be found as much among the poets of Modernism, like Nishiwaki and Ezra Pound, as among the practitioners of traditional haikai. In this connection, it is interesting to observe how he invokes the lofty idealism of W.B. Yeats, together with the tangled verbiage of the later James Joyce.

Ikuya's haiku

昼顔の見えるひるすぎぽるとがる
hirugao no mieru hirusugi porutogaru

Noontime Glory
　　 past its glory after noon
-Portugal-



切株やあるくぎんなんぎんのよる
kirikabu ya aruku ginnan gin no yoru

stump of a tree ?
ginkgo nuts walking
wander the night



天文や大食の天の鷹を馴らし
tenmon ya taji no ten no taka o narashi

study of the stars ?
a Farsee subdues a hawk
high in the heavens



一満月一韃靼の一楕円
ichi mangetsu ichi dattan no ichi daen

a moon at the full…
the Tartar alone make
a single ellipse



雨季来たりなむ斧一振りの再会
uki kitari nan ono hitofuri no saikai

the rains have come ?
with one blow of the axe
reunion



落丁一騎対岸の草の葉
rakucho ikki taigan no kusa no ha

a riderless horse…
on the opposite bank
leaves of grass



楡よ、お前は高い感情のうしろを見せる
nire yo,omae wa takai kanjo no ushiro o miseru

O elms,
how you reveal the shape
of lofty feeling



とりめのぶうめらんこりい子供屋のコリドン
torime no bumerankori kodomo ya no koridon

blinded by the night
boomerancholy Corydon
in the House of Joy



栗の花のててなしに来たのだ帰る
kuri no hana no tetenashi ni kitanoda kaeru

chestnuts in bloom ?
fatherless they come
and withdraw



句とは何か概念の小をんなの青空
ku towa nanika gainen no koonna no aozora

what is haiku ?
the idea of a humble maid
in blue heaven



牡丹ていっくに蕪村ずること二三片
botantyikku ni busonzuru koto ni san pen

peonytically
composing Buson-like
two, three petals



異化なる Fin againも恋茄子に音ちる
ika naru fin agein mo koinasu ni otochiru

catabolic Fin again
and Datura as well
scattering reports



春しぐれ一行の詩はどこで絶つか
harushigure ichigyo no shi wa doko de tatsu ka

spring shower ?
where to break
a single-line poem



犬居士もヴィヨンも盗むすゝき哉
inukoji mo viyon mo nusumu susuki kana

　　　 the pampas grass ?
both Inukoji and Villon
working as thieves



かげろふを二階にはこび女とす
kagero o nikai ni hakobi onna to su

the shimmering haze
once carried upstairs then
made into a woman



十五から我酒のみ出て小正月
jugo kara gazake nomidete koshogatsu

from the age of fifteen
going out to drink sake ?
Little New Year



このひととすることもなき秋の暮
kono hito to surukoto mo naki aki no kure

with this woman
nothing whatever to do ?
autumn nightfall



春しぐれ十人とゐぬ詩人かな
harushigure junin to inu shijin kana

spring shower ?
of poets there can be
no more than ten



素袷やそのうちわかる人の味
suawase ya sonouchi wakaru hito no aji

a lined kimono next the skin:
in time one learns
a person’s savor



薗八のなかるべからず岡時雨
sonohachi no nakarubekarazu oka shigure

the tune of Sonohachi
ought to be heard around here ?
rain on the slope



初松魚あゝつがもねえなまりとは
hatsukatsuo a tsugamone namari towa

first fresh bonito…
oh what a drag!
just the half-dried



句には句の位ありけり江戸桜
ku niwa ku no kurai arikeri edosakura

e’en in haiku
there are different ranks ?
Edo cherry blossom



年立つや一二三四五六七
toshi tatsu ya ichi ni san shi go roku shichi

the New Year has come…
one, two, three, four,
five, six, seven



別嬪の降って来さうなゆだちかな
beppin no futte kiso na yudachi kana

the evening shower
comes like a sudden downpour
of beautiful women



大川に彼岸の入りや下り舟
okawa ni higan no iri ya kudaribune

on the Great River ?
on the first day of higan
boat heading downstream



其角を肴としたりかたつむり
sono tsuno o sakana to shitari katatsumuri

finding those horns
turns a dilemma to laughter
Master Snail



伊勢るまで待ちて業平蜆かな
iseru made machie narihirashijimi kana

waiting till it’s drawn
then sucked inside
the Narihara shell



川筋に子供老いけり春の雪
kawasuji ni kodomo oikeri haru no yuki

along the riverside
the geisha grow older ?
light spring snow



どうであれ生涯一句初昔
do de are shogai ikku hatsumukashi

anyway you see it
in a whole lifetime just one haiku:
looking back at New Year



年越しやいまは真打なき世なりけり
toshikoshi ya ima wa tori naki yo narikeri

the turn of the year ?
a day and an age lacking
genuine spirit

Notes

‘Portugal’: The name would normally be written in katakana.

‘ginkgo’: Also spelt ‘gingko’. Most of this verse too is composed in hiragana.

‘subdues a hawk’: The training of a hawk or falcon as a hunting bird.

‘lofty feeling’: The wording contains an echo of a poem by W.B. Yeats.

‘Corydon’: The name has a long history in pastoral poetry, beginning with Theocritus in Greek, then 
Virgil in Latin, and is also mentioned by John Milton (‘L’Allegro’). Corydon gave his heart to another young man, but was disappointed, as Virgil says at the opening of The Second Eclogue:

Young Corydon th’ unhappy Shepherd Swain,
The fair Alexis lov’d, but lov’d in vain… (Trans. John Dryden)

André Gide used the name as the title for a Platonic dialogue on homosexuality, Corydon (1924), but the image in the poem may derive from the Cantos of Ezra Pound.

‘two or three petals’: This plays on a well-known verse by Yosa Buson (1716-1783):

牡丹散ってうちかさなりぬ二三片
botan chitte uchikasanarinu nisanpen

peony scatters —
on top of one another
two or three petals

‘catabolic’: The word refers to ‘catabolism’ (a chemical term for creating energy through the breakdown of complex substances in an organism) or ‘dissimilation’ (a term in psychology).

‘Fin again’: A macaronic allusion, inter alia, to the novel by James Joyce, Finnegans Wake (1939).

‘Datura’: The flower (lit. ‘eggplant love’) is also known as kichigai-nasu (‘crazy eggplant), and by other names, like Chôsen asagao (Korean morning glory). Datura or thorn apple (Datura alba) has large drooping trumpet-shaped flowers, which are usually white, cream or pale pink, and faintly scented. It blooms from late summer into autumn, and is a season-word for summer. A tropical plant imported during the Edo period for its medicinal qualities, it is also slightly poisonous. 

‘scattering reports’: Making sound, but also soundless; the Japanese term is a nonce or nonsense word.

‘from age fifteen…’: This invokes a well-known verse by Takarai Kikaku (1661-1707),:

十五から酒を呑み出てけふの月
jûgo kara sake o nomidete kyò no tsuki

out drinking
from the age of fifteen —
the moon tonight

‘spring shower’: A season word for a type of autumn rain (akishigure) is here deployed for spring.

‘Inukoji’: A pen-name (lit. ‘dog-hermit’) of Uejima Onitsura (1661-1738), an important contemporary of Bashô who composed this verse in praise of eulalias or pampas grass (Miscanthus sinensis):

面白さ急には見えぬ薄かな
omoshirosa kyûni wa mienu susuki kana

pleasure
is not such a fleeting thing —
the pampas grass

Onitsura contributed the idea of makoto (sincerity) to haiku, but is appreciated in company here with the disreputable and brilliant French poet François Villon (1431-?1463).

‘Sonohachi’: A traditional narrative song, redolent of the past.

‘first fresh bonito’: The first bonito of the season has been highly valued since the Edo period (1603-1867), when people were willing to pay very high prices for it; a season-word for summer, when it becomes available (or at the earliest April); dried bonito is used throughout the year.

‘Edo cherry blossom’: The common cherry blossom of the Edo period was a different variety from the more recently developed somei yoshino seen everywhere in Tokyo today.

‘one, two, …’: The sequence of numbers is taken from a primer on zen.

‘Great River’: The old name for the Sumida River that runs through the eastern part of Tokyo.

‘higan’: The spring equinox; the equinoctial week.

‘Master Snail’: The play on words has been shifted somewhat from the opening characters (‘those horns’, which can also be read as ‘Kikaku’), to the closing word (lit. ‘snail’). Kikaku, one of Bashô’s leading disciples, was a masterly poet himself, and wrote this verse:

かたつぶり酒の肴に這わせけり
katatsuburi sake no sakana ni hawasekeri

the snail —
as accompaniment to sake,
let’s have it crawl

The poet and his companion have nothing else to accompany their drink.

‘Narihira shell’: A corbicula, or fresh-water clam, named after Ariwara no Narihira (825-880), an early tanka poet, handsome aristocrat, and legendary lover. Some of Narihira’s romantic exploits are recounted in the Ise monogatari, or Tales of Ise, much of which he is purported to have written.

‘looking back at New Year’: Among the many things that are experienced for the first time (hatsumono) in the new year is the first reflection on the past, to which the old year has already been consigned.

‘along the riverside…’: The scene evokes the Heian period (794-1185).

‘spring snow’: Snow as light and ephemeral as cherry blossom.




Translators: David Burleigh, Kimiyo Tanaka (Kim Komurasaki, the Shiki team)

This section presents a selection of excerpts from "21st Century Ehime Haiku Prizes", Ehime Culture Foundation, 2003; 
P52-P62.The Tomizawa Kakio Prize of the 21st Century Ehime Haiku Prizes was given
to Katô Ikuya in 2002.