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Writers in focus

The double life of Marianne Kimura

July 30, 2015

Leading a Strange Shakespearean Double Life

Marianne Kimura

I suppose that the most unusual feature of my life as a writer is that it is divided into two, complete with two different names, identities and writing styles. As Marianne Kimura, a professor (准教授) at Kyoto Women’s University, I study and write about the cultural implications of fossil fuel depletion, especially the ways that some literary works may express views on fossil fuels as they relate to humans.

As Gemma Nishiyama, I write popular style fiction with a lot of italics. I try to make it fast-paced, plot-driven, and it should naturally have a love affair or even better a love triangle and preferably a ghost or two and some magic. I also love adding astronomical and mythical elements, such as Sirius, the dog star. (Did you know that across almost all cultures in the world, Sirius is called the “dog star” or the “wolf star”? And there is even a credible rumor that our sun is circling Sirius! (Of course that would mean that our whole solar system, including us, is also circling Sirius). This idea fascinated me so much that I made it a major part of the plot of my second novel, The Hamlet Paradigm, about an astronomer who accidentally discovers a dangerous secret and is on the run, together with his wife through the mountains of Iga, the old training ground for ninjas, in Mie Prefecture).

My two personalities are unified in one way because I do focus on the sun in both my fiction and non-fiction. When I say the “sun” I don’t just mean the bright burning yellow thing in the sky. I came across the notion of the “metabolic rift” in Karl Marx’s writings and although Marx himself does not explain what exactly the metabolic rift is (he calls it a “rift in the metabolism of the earth” and posits its existence as a foundation for capitalism), it’s my theory that this “metabolic rift” is fossil fuels, which gave humans a huge margin of excess millions of times over and above the sun’s yearly energetic contribution to the earth. This huge margin of excess can last over many centuries but it isn’t infinite, of course and it could produce the effects we call “capitalism” in my opinion. (The sun is, on the other hand, for all purposes, infinite for us.)

Another thinker I study is Giordano Bruno, the natural philosopher executed for heresy by the Roman Inquisition in 1600. He came up with many theories, among them the idea that the sun is a star and that the sun’s “heat and light” are fundamental to the orbit of the earth—essentially Bruno posited a thermodynamic heliocentric model of our solar system. And he did this in the 1580s, making the timing perfect for Shakespeare to get his hands on Bruno’s books and use what he learned in them.

I started researching fossil fuels and the sun in literature in 2004 after noticing differences that almost felt surreal to me when I moved from Yamaguchi to Tsukuba in 2002. Yamaguchi, an ancient historic town in the mountains in Western Japan, has many tiny roads suitable for rickshaws and foot traffic. Tsukuba (near Tokyo), was designed in the 1960s to emulate Irvine California, has enormous multi-lane roads and interchanges. Growing up in America, I really had no exposure in my childhood to roads as tiny as Yamaguchi’s roads. Of course, America, a country that has had abundant fossil fuel resources (although now much less abundant than before) has many roads that look similar to the ones you could find in Tsukuba. I became fascinated with the power of fossil fuels to dictate infrastructure fashions to us. Yes, I mean, actually dictate lifestyles and fashions.

I wondered if anyone else was interested in this idea. I mean someone good at cultural expression who had written a book. My educational background at Harvard was English Literature, the humanities, and I sort of had a hunch that as intelligent humans we might have tried to protest this centuries-spanning “dictatorship” of fossil fuels secretly through fiction, which belongs to the “nonsense” language of paid “fools” and court jesters. These people are politically powerless but entertaining, living on their wits alone and they can, using fiction as a sort of game, tackle and address the issues that others can’t or won’t. I naturally started out by investigating writers of the US suburbs such as John Updike but sort of by accident I discovered that Shakespeare was in the group as well. Basically it boils down to the idea that Juliet is actually the sun! (Check out my Academia page or my Slideshare page for the details.)

Amaterasu, the sun goddess (photo of a statue at Ise by John Dougill)

For most other scholars of Shakespeare, my idea is too “radical” (that is what another scholar said to me at Shakespeare 450, a conference in Paris last year!) but I don’t let that stop me from carrying out my research (and having a lot of fun in the process). My idea is so simple that a 6 year-old can understand it, so this means that I get hundreds of views every month from ordinary people, though in my analytics there are a lot of ISP addresses in college towns as well, placing me constantly in the top ranks on academia.

Fortunately as a scholar I can fit in in Japan, which has a deep cultural connection with the sun through Shinto and Amaterasu. I totally love Japan and I’m eternally grateful to my husband, Takeshi Kimura, a scholar of religion, for patiently explaining Japanese culture to me and taking me around to many Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples; this is the favorite hobby we share!!

My feeling is that my situation is very Shakespearean, since I have two identities, two names and also, like Rosalind or Viola, I belong to two places but I am philosophically exiled (that is to say my ideas are exiled) from one of them. Luckily, as I said, I adore Japan, a country of many festive and wonderful matsuris or seasonal festivals, and I’m positive that Shakespeare would have loved Japan too!

Climate change, oil depletion and concomitant price plunges or surges as markets struggle to adapt, the absurd fracking process which removes water from the earth forever, urban sprawl, food deserts and Middle Eastern wars and perpetual military, economic and humanitarian crises and over-population are just some of the issues touching on fossil fuels. Fossil fuels extend to every sphere of our existence, our food, our economy, our social lives, our cultural sphere, everything.

So I think knowing “what Shakespeare would say about fossil fuels” is just another element in a long-term human strategy to understand the extensive human and fossil fuel interaction better.

Finally, I will tell you how I chose my pen name “Gemma Nishiyama”. After living in Tsukuba for nine years, I moved back to Yamaguchi and it was there that I got the idea to write a popular novel about a middle-aged ex-pat academic in Japan who finds out “the secret” of Shakespeare when she befriends Shakespeare’s ghost. I suppose I was inspired by The DaVinci Code, about a secret hidden in an artwork, though my novel, Juliet is the Sun, just a self-published work, hasn’t sold anything like Dan Brown’s blockbuster. Yama means “mountain” and I like the mountains, and Yamaguchi is in Western Japan (nishi is west in Japanese). I chose “Gemma” because coal is like a stone (Shakespeare is often comparing it to a stone) and a “gem” is a stone too. I wanted to express gratitude in a way to fossil fuels, I mean, sure they have their tough aspects, no doubt about it, but they have made a contribution too. One amusing conclusion of my research is that Shakespeare might not have written what he did without them because he wouldn’t have been inspired to sing the praises of the contrasting sun.

Books set in Kyoto

Kyoto places in haiku

July 29, 2015

The following listing is taken with permission from Gabi Greve’s blogspot on Kyoto the Flower Capital – “Hana no Miyako.

Explanation

“capital of blossoms“, hana no miyako 花の都
Kyoto in cherry blossoms, Kyoto during the cherry blossom season
miyako no hana 都の花 the flowering capital (cherry blossom)

. Cherry blossoms (sakura 桜)

見わたせば柳桜をこきまぜて
都ぞ春の錦なりける

miwataseba yanagi sakura o kokimazete
miyako zo haru no nishiki narikeru

gazing over the capital
green willow threads entwine
soft red cherry blossoms
as if the Heian capital
had spread a spring brocade

The Monk Sosei 素性法師 (around 910)
Kokin Wakashu Poetry Collection　古今和歌集

source :　yoshida sanso.com

Kaiseki meal in memoriam of the above waka poem.

. Poetry and Japanese Food .

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Kyoto 京都

Heian-kyō, Heiankyoo, Heiankyo (平安京 “tranquility and peace capital”), became the seat of Japan’s imperial court in 794, beginning the Heian period of Japanese history. In Japanese, the city has been called:
Kyo (京), Miyako (Miako) (都) or Kyo no Miyako (京の都). Keishi (京師), meaning “metropolis”.
©　More in the WIKIPEDIA !

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蚊柱の穴から見ゆる都哉
ka-bashira no ana kara miyuru miyako kana

through a hole
in the mosquito swarm…
Kyoto

The mosquitoes are swarming in a column (ka-bashira).
The “capital” (miyako) was Kyoto in Issa’s day. This is where the emperor and his court lived. Political and military power was centered in the Shogun’s city of Edo, today’s Tokyo. Sakuo Nakamura pictures Issa, as he approached Kyoto, feeling heavy pressure to do well in this cultural and literary center. “Those pressures stood before him like a mosquito swarm.”
Issa, 1814 (Tr. David Lanoue)

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. Fushimi 伏見 .

visited by Matsuo Basho and Yosa Buson.

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Rakuchuu (洛中) Central Kyoto

洛中に桔梗の花が三日咲
Rakuchu ni kikyoo no hana ga mikka saki

in central Kyoto
bellflowers boom
three days long

Haifu Yanagidaru Senryu Collection 誹風柳多留

Temple Daikomyo-Ji 大光明寺

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Shimogyo-ku (下京区) is one of the eleven wards in the city of Kyoto.
First established in 1879 as an administrativev unit, it has been merged and split, and took on its present boundaries in 1955, with the establishment of a separate Minami-ku.
Kyoto Tower and Kyoto Station are major landmarks in Shimogyo-ku.
Shimogyo-ku has a population of 74,897 and an area of 6.82 km². Three rivers, Horikawa, Kamogawa and Takasegawa, are in the ward.
©　More in the WIKIPEDIA !

下京や闇いうちから花の春
shimogyô ya kurai uchi kara hana no haru

Shimogyo Town–
in the dark before dawn
spring blossoms

. . . . .

下京の窓かぞへけり春の暮
shimogyô no mado kazoe keri haru no kure

counting the windows
of Shimogyo Town…
spring dusk

Kobayashi Issa
Tr. David Lanoue

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Bridges 橋　hashi

shijoo oohashi 四条大橋 big bridge at Shijo

gojoo oohashi 五条大橋 big bridge at Gojo

. Ushiwaka-maru and Benkei at Gojo Bridge .

春水や四条五条の橋の下
shunsui ya Shjoo Gojoo no hashi no shita

water of spring –
at Shijo and Gojo
under the bridges

. water in spring, haru no mizu 春の水 .

source :　www.nichibun.ac.jp/meisyozue

Bungobashi 豊後橋 Bungo-bashi Bridge
now Kangetsukyoo 観月橋 Kangetsu-kyo Bridge in Fushimi ward 伏見, spanning the Yodogawa river　淀川.

This bridge has already been there in the Kamakura period under the name Katsurabashi 桂橋
Ryoogunbashi 両郡橋 or Shigetsubashi 指月橋）.
Later it was rebuilt by Toyotomi Hideyoshi at a length of about 200 meters and called Bungobashi. During the Edo period, the pillars were replaced about 18 times.

asagiri ya enokoro hitotsu Bungobashi

Misty morning.
The sleeping Bungo-bridge
is crossed by a puppy.
Tr. ? – source Terebess

tetsugaku no michi 哲学の径 / 哲学の道
The Philosopher’s Path

Der Philosophenweg, Heidelberg, Germany is the original.

The Philosopher’s Walk, Philosoper’s Road
a pedestrian path that follows a cherry-tree-lined canal in Kyoto, between Ginkaku-ji and Nanzen-ji. The route is so-named because the influential 20th century Japanese philosopher and Kyoto University professor Nishida Kitaro is thought to have used it for daily meditation. It passes a number of temples and shrines such as Hōnen-in, Ōtoyo Shrine, and Eikan-dō Zenrin-ji. It takes about 30 minutes to complete the walk, although many people spend more time visiting the sights along the way. On the norther part of the walk, there are good views of the nearby Daimonji. The walk is a popular destination for tourists and locals, especially during hanami.
©　More in the WIKIPEDIA !

はつ冬の哲学の径一詩人
hatsufuyu no tetsugaku no michi ichi shijin

beginning of winter
on Philosopher’s Road
one poet

Sakiko Fujishima 藤島咲子

source : Tr. Fay Aoyagi

quote
Der Philosophenweg
ist ein circa zwei Kilometer langer, vor allem zu Beginn sehr steiler Weg, der vom Heidelberger Stadtteil Neuenheim auf den Heiligenberg führt. Er liegt damit dem Heidelberger Schloss am Königstuhl direkt gegenüber und ist eine der Sehenswürdigkeiten Heidelbergs.
©　More in the WIKIPEDIA !

東の東山山麓の細い道が、ドイツ・ハイデルベルクの
「哲学者の道」と地形がそっくりともいわれる.

Philosopher’s Walk
a squirrel in the path
looking to and fro

Chen-ou Liu
Ajax, Ontario, Canada

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京辺や冬篭さへいそがしき
miyakobe ya fuyugomori sae isogashiki

Kyoto people
stay busy outside
all winter long
Tr. Chris Drake
This hokku was written in the 11th month (December) of 1816, when Issa had left his hometown for a while and traveled back to Edo to see poets there. The difference between his hometown and Edo must have been extreme in winter. In Edo people went outside and kept busy during the whole winter, unlike the home confinement people experienced during much of the winter in the snow country, in which Issa’s hometown was located. In this hokku, however, Issa evokes not Edo, the location of the shogun’s castle and actual center of power in Japan, but the ancient capital of Kyoto, nominally the capital though the “reigning” emperor or empress was merely a figurehead. Perhaps Issa focuses on Kyoto because even more important annual events were scheduled there than in busy Edo.

In addition to being the site of a diligent court that continuously carried out empty rituals, Kyoto had hundreds of Buddhist temples, many of them the head temple of their school, and perhaps even more Shinto shrines. Numerous important ceremonies, festivals, performances, and events took place there every single day throughout the winter, and Kyoto’s thriving economy also continued to operate at a rapid pace. To speak of “winter confinement” in Kyoto is a contradiction in terms, and the phrase was used there and in the other larger cities of Issa’s time mainly as an elegant euphemism for staying indoors a bit more in winter.

Chris Drake

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Modern Kyoto in Winter
Tokuriki Tomikichiro (1902-2000)

OHARA

Oohara 大原 Ohara Kyoto
Ohara is a rural town nestled in the mountains of northern Kyoto, about one hour from Kyoto Station, but still technically located within Kyoto’s city limits. Ohara is best known for Sanzenin Temple and particularly popular in mid November during the autumn leaf season, which typically occurs about one week earlier than in central Kyoto. Ohara is also famous for the “women from Ohara”, ooharame 大原女, Oharame, who used to carry vegetabels and firewood to the market in Kyoto and make a good living.

observance kigo for late winter

oohara zakone 大原雑魚寝 (おおはらざこね)
sleeping together at Ohara
…. zakone 雑魚寝（ざこね） “group sleep”
“like all kind of fish”, all crowded together
on the night before setsubun, February 3 at shrine 江文神社 Ebumi Jinja

This is the night of the zakone in Ohara,when all the people of the village, young and old of both sexes, masters and servants, all are allowed to lie down together and sleep in the Ebumi shrine. It is a kind of vigil before setsubun, a religious custom, and for once no restrictions whatsoever are placed on what the sleepers may venture to do. Many couples found together on this night.
This is based on a legend of a large man-eating snake, which came down to the village when hungry, and the villagers all bundled together to be safe.
But it has been forbidden to do this since the Meiji period.

The custom of zakone is also alive in other temples and shrines in Japan, sometimes during O-Bon in autumn or on the last night of the year.

から人と雑魚寝もすらん女かな
karabito to zakone mo suran onna kana

lying down together
with people from China –
these women

Kobayashi Issa 一茶
Tr. Gabi Greve

Books set in Kyoto

Shiki and Buson on Kyoto

July 29, 2015

The following are taken from Gabi Greve’s shrine and temples blogspot
http://japanshrinestemples.blogspot.jp/2013/04/masaoka-shiki-visiting.html

. Chion-in 知恩院 Kyoto .
祗園清水智恩院 Gion Kiyomizu Chion-In
with 6 haiku

. Nanzenji 南禅寺 Nanzen-Ji in Kyoto .
鶯やしんかんとして南禅寺 – uguisu ya shinkan to shite Nanzen-Ji
行く秋や松の木の間の南禅寺 – yuku aki ya matsu no ki no ma no Nanzen-Ji

律院の苔の光や春の雨
Ritsu-In no koke no hikari ya haru no ame

the sparkling of moss
at temple Ritsu-In –
rain in spring

written in 明治35年, 比叡山律院 Ritsu-in Temple at Hieizan, Kyoto
Shisendoo 詩仙堂 Shisen-Do in Kyoto
丈山の梅さきにけり詩仙堂
. Joozan no ume saki ni keri shizendoo .

Toji, To-Ji 東寺 in Kyoto
幽霊ノ如キ東寺ヤ朧月
茶つみ歌東寺の塔は霞みけり
. Temple Toji (Tooji 東寺) .

右京左京中は畑なり秋の風 – Kyoto

inzen 院宣 temple of retirement for an emperor since the Heian period
院宣や夏草夏木振ひ立つ

The following are a random collection of Buson haiku concerning Kyoto.

Iwakura Daiun-Ji 岩倉大雲寺 – Haiku by Yosa Buson　与謝蕪村

. Iwakura no kyoojo koi seyo hototogisu .
岩倉の狂女恋せよ子規
大徳寺にて Daitokuji nite

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(From http://www.kyotojournal.org/the-journal/fiction-poetry/yosa-buson-haiku-master/)

A light spring rain —
someone living there:
smoke seeps from the walls.

Buson prefaces this haiku with this explanatory note: “On the west side of Kyoto, there was, for a long time, a ghost living in a certain dilapidated house. Now we hear nothing of it.” Notice how the “mi” in “sumite” written in katakana, a script reserved for foreign loan words, mimics the smoke leaking from the walls/the ghost escaping.

Another haiku, prefaced with the words: Konpuku Temple: The Venerable Basho’s Grave nods once more to the deceased teacher.

ware mo shishite hi ni hitori semu kare o bana

I, too, am dying
approaching the grave
withered Eulalia.

In An Account of the Restoration of the Basho Hermitage in Eastern Kyoto, Buson relates that “in the village of Ichioji, at the southwestern foot of Mt. Hiei, there is a Zen temple called Konpuku. The local people, when referring to it, call it the Basho hermitage.” Within the precincts of the temple was a hut, belonging to a priest named Tesshu. Basho had used it as his retreat, but after his death (1694) and then Tesshu’s (1698), it had fallen into disrepair, until a certain Higuchi Doryu, a friend of Buson’s, suggested restoring it. The occasion of the haiku was the dedication of a monument there to Basho.

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First winter day
at the edge of Kyoto
there’s the sun

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Books set in Kyoto

Issa on Kyoto

July 28, 2015

The following listing was compiled by David G. Lanoue and taken from http://haikuguy.com/issa/search.php?keywords=Kyoto&year
Copyright belongs to D.G. Lanoue

78 haiku out of Issa’s 10,000 are set in Kyoto

year unknown

.洛陽やちとも曲らぬ初時雨
rakuyô ya chito mo magaranu hatsu shigure

Kyoto–
falling straight down
the first winter rain

Rakuyô is an old name for Kyoto; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1728.

1792

.みやこ哉東西南北辻が花
miyako kana tôzainamboku tsuji ga hana

in Kyoto
east, west, south, north…
summer kimonos

This haiku has the prescript, “Imperial Capital,” i.e., Kyoto. In Issa’s day, this is where the emperor and his court lived. Political and military power was centered in the Shogun’s city of Edo, today’s Tokyo.

The phrase, “crossroads blossoms” (tsuji ga hana), is a euphemism for a light summer garment made of hemp: katabira. In this archive, I translate both katabira and awase as “summer kimono.” Hiroshi Kobori explains that tsujiga-hana designs were in fashion from the mid-Muromachi era until the early Edo era; they were mostly dyed purple, red, and deep indigo…”bold and marvelous.”

Makoto Ueda writes that the “blossoms” (hana) refer to the colorful kimonos worn by the people of Kyoto; Dew on the Grass: The Life and Poetry of Kobayashi Issa (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2004) 28. Since kimono is a more widely known term than katabira, I use it in my translation, following professor Ueda’s example.

1795

.或時は花の都にも倦にけり
aru toki wa hana no miyako ni mo aki ni keri

there comes a time
even in blossoming Kyoto…
sick of it

In this comic haiku, all the hoopla over the cherry blossoms, after a while, gets tiresome. The “capital” (miyako) was Kyoto in Issa’s day. This is where the emperor and his court lived. Political and military power was centered in the Shogun’s city of Edo, today’s Tokyo.

1802

.片枝は都の空よむめの花
kata eda wa miyako no sora yo mume no hana

one branch makes
Kyoto’s sky…
plum blossoms

Mume is ume (“plum tree”). Just one blooming branch against the blue is enough to create a sky befitting the capital.

1803

.京見えてすねをもむ也春がすみ
kyô miete sune wo momu nari harugasumi

seeing Kyoto
I massage my shins…
spring mist

1803

.天の川都のうつけ泣やらん
ama [no] kawa miyako no utsuke naku yaran

Milky Way–
maybe the fools of Kyoto
are crying

Issa’s phrase, “Heaven’s River” (ama no gawa) refers to the Milky Way. The word utsuke can mean emptiness in general but also, more particularly, empty-headed people. Why is Issa poking fun at the people of the capital? Is it raining this night?

Shinji Ogawa notes that yaran makes the verb (“cry”) conjectural (“may be weeping”). He is also puzzled by this haiku.

Jean Cholley believes that Issa is alluding to the fact that refined poets of the court followed a tradition of composing repetitive and cliché poems about the Milky Way; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 235, note 19.

1803

.京も京京の真中や鰒と汁
kyô mo kyô kyô no manaka ya fukuto-jiru

Kyoto, Kyoto
in the heart of Kyoto!
pufferfish soup

Pufferfish soup (fukuto-jiru) is a winter season word.

1803

.京にも子分ありとや鰒と汁
miyako ni mo kobun ari to ya fukuto-jiru

in Kyoto
even for apprentices!
pufferfish soup

Pufferfish soup, a winter season word, was a luxury dish.

1804

.行雁に呑せてやらん京の水
yuku kari ni nomasete yaran kyô no mizu

geese taking off
have a drink on me…
Kyoto’s water

Kyoto was Japan’s capital in Issa’s time. Shinji Ogawa paraphrases: “I’ll give the flying-north geese a drink of Kyoto’s water.”

1804

.京人にせつちうされし桜哉
kyôbito ni setchû sareshi sakura kana

blended in
with people of Kyoto…
cherry blossoms

1804

.夕立や舟から見たる京の山
yûdachi ya fune kara mitaru kyô no yama

rainstorm–
watching from a boat
Kyoto’s mountain

1804

.夏の山京を見る時雨かかる
natsu yama ya kyô wo miru toki ame kakaru

summer mountain–
just when I sight Kyoto
rain!

1804

.名月や都に居てもとしのよる
meigetsu ya miyako ni ite mo toshi no yoru

harvest moon–
even in Kyoto
growing old

Sakuo Nakamura notes that the full moon in decline over Kyoto might have a political dimension: “authority in ancient time all has gone away,” as the center of power in Japan has moved from imperial Kyoto to the Shogun’s city, Edo (Tokyo).

1804

.七夕や都もおなじ秋の山
tanabata ya miyako mo onaji aki no yama

Tanabata Night
in Kyoto, the same
autumn mountain

This haiku refers to Tanabata, a festival that takes place on the seventh day of Seventh Month. According to a romantic legend, two celestial lovers–the stars Altair and Vega–are separated by Heaven’s River (the Milky Way). One night a year (Tanabata night), they cross the starry river to be together.

1805

.春の日を降りくらしたる都哉
haru no hi wo furikurashitaru miyako kana

on the spring day
all day, rain…
Kyoto

1805

.雨がちに都の春も暮る也
amegachi ni miyako no haru mo kururu nari

in falling rain
in Kyoto too
dusk of spring

1805

.入口に柳の立し都哉
iriguchi ni yanagi no tatashi miyako kana

a willow stands
at the entrance gate…
Kyoto

1806

.梅がかを都へさそふ風も哉
ume ga ka wo miyako e sasou kaze mo gana

may the wind send
this plum blossom scent
to Kyoto!

This haiku has the prescript, “Renga,” indicating that Issa wrote it as part of a series of linked verses done with other poet(s). The “capital” (miyako) was Kyoto in Issa’s day. Robin D. Gill explains that mo gana is an archaic expression of wishing: “Oh, for a wind/ to take the plum blossom scent/ to the capital.”

1807

.時鳥都にして見る月よ哉
hototogisu miyako ni shite miru tsuki yo kana

cuckoo–
since you’re in Kyoto
look at that moon!

The hototogisu or “little cuckoo” sings day and night, unlike the common cuckoo (Japanese: kakô).

1808

.梅ちりて急に古びる都哉
ume chirite kyû ni furubiru miyako kana

plum blossoms gone
suddenly Kyoto
looks old

Sakuo Nakamura conjures the following image with this haiku: “The season of plum blossom has passed away. People have forgotten their joyous mood and now are going to work. The dream is over and real life has appeared. It seemed to Issa as if Kyoto has suddenly grown older.”

Sakuo’s second image is that, after the plum blossom have fallen, there is “little gorgeousness” in Kyoto.

Originally, I translated the first phrase, “plum blossoms scatter,” but Shinji Ogawa points out that (“chiru, in association with blossoms, sometimes means, ‘the season is gone’ without implying the movement of falling flowers.” The verb furubu means to become old-style; see Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1460.

1808

.青柳のかかる小隅も都哉
ao yagi no kakaru kosumi mo miyako kana

even in little nooks
green willows…
Kyoto

1808

.かはほりよ行々京の飯時分
kawahori yo yuke-yuke kyô no meshi jibun

get a move on, bat!
it’s dinnertime
in Kyoto

Or: “bats.” It is dusk, which means, from a bat’s perspective, the air is a living smorgasbord of tasty flying insects. He encourages the bat to hurry up and claim his share. In modern Japanese “bat” is pronounced, kômori. Issa pronounced it, kawahori.

1808

.梅の木や都のすすの捨所
ume no ki ya miyako no susu no sute-dokoro

plum tree–
the dumping ground for
Kyoto’s soot

The haiku refers to winter soot-sweeping. The plum tree, so honored in springtime, becomes the sorry site of a dumping ground.

1808

.餅つきや都の鶏も皆目覚
mochi tsuki ya miyako no tori mo mina mezamu

pounding rice cakes–
in Kyoto all chickens
are awake

1810

.行秋やすでに御釈迦は京の空
yuku aki ya sude ni o-shaka wa kyô no sora

autumn ends–
already the Buddha
fills Kyoto’s sky

In a prescript to this haiku, Issa alludes to an image of Gautama Buddha being returned to its temple in Kyoto. See Issa zenshû (Nagano: Shinano Mainichi Shimbunsha, 1976-79), 3.85, note 2.

1810

.有明や納豆腹を都迄
ariake ya nattô hara wo miyako made

dawn–
for a bellyful of natto
a trip to Kyoto

Nattô is fermented or “spoiled” soybeans–popular among the Japanese but, for many foreigners, a gastronomic challenge. In Issa’s time it was especially eaten in the winter for health reasons, and therefore is a winter season word.

1811

.時鳥汝も京は嫌ひしな
hototogisu nanji mo kyô wa kirai shina

oh cuckoo
you also hate Kyoto
don’t you?

In the original text the word mo (“also”) suggests that someone else despises the capital, presumably Issa. Shinji Ogawa explains that kirai shina (dislike don’t you) is Kyoto dialect.

1812

.行月や都の月も一涼み
yuku tsuki ya miyako no tsuki mo hito suzumi

the moon departs–
in Kyoto even she enjoys
the cool breeze

In the haiku, everyone in the capital goes out to enjoy the cool air of the summer evening … even the moon.

1813

.薮入が供を連たる都哉
yabuiri ga tomo wo tsuretaru miyako kana

back from holiday
the servant brings a friend…
Kyoto

The servant in this haiku is either leaving the capital or returning to it. I think it makes more sense to picture him returning: bringing along a new recruit from his native village to join the ranks of Kyoto servants.

1813

.都辺や凧の上るもむづかしき
miyakobe ya tako no age[ru] mo muzukashiki

a Kyoto suburb–
even flying kites
is hard

Perhaps Issa is suggesting that everything, even kite flying, is easier in the emperor’s capital, harder in outlying areas.

1813

.鉄釘のやうな蕨も都哉
kanakugi no yôna warabi mo miyako kana

even the bracken
are like nails…
Kyoto

Bracken is a fern with tough stems that sprouts in springtime. In this haiku, Issa hints of Kyoto’s hardness, perhaps to outsiders like he was.

1813

.髭どののかざさるる也京扇
hige dono no kazasaruru nari kyô ôgi

shading
Mr. Long-Beard’s eyes…
a paper fan from Kyoto

Mr. Long-Beard (hige dono) is most likely a poor mountain man or hermit, and yet he somehow has a fan from the capital.

1813

.夜々は本ンの都ぞ門涼
yoru yoru wa hon no miyako zo kado suzumi

night after night
this is true Kyoto!
cooling at the gate

1813

.山人や雪の御かげに京ま入
yamaudo ya yuki no o-kage ni kyô mairi

the mountain hermit
under a bundle of snow
Kyoto-bound

Yamaudo, literally, a “mountain person,” also signifies a hermit. Seasonally, this haiku pertains to summer, referring to snow and ice brought down from the mountains to make cold refreshments on hot days. The hermit is heading to Kyoto to sell his snow.

1813

.行な蛍都は夜もやかましき
yuku na hotaru miyako wa yoru mo yakamashiki

don’t go, firefly!
even at night Kyoto
is noisy

1813

.ここらから都か紙子きる女
kokora kara miyako ka kamiko kiru onna

“Are these the outskirts
of Kyoto?”
woman in a paper robe

Shinji Ogawa paraphrases kokora kara miyako ka as: “Around here on does Kyoto begin?” He believes that Issa is the traveler, questioning the woman in the paper robe.

In a similar haiku of the same year (1813) he asks the same question about the more ancient capital, Nara.

Paper robe (kamiko) is a winter season word: a thin, wind-resistant outer kimono.

1814

.鶯のぬからぬ顔や京の山
uguisu no nukaranu kao ya kyô no yama

the nightingale’s
“I’m perfect” face…
Kyoto’s mountain

The verb nukaru in Issa’s time meant to commit a careless blunder; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1270. Issa uses its negative form (nukuranu) to modify the bird’s face: the nightingale has an expression that is “not blundering.”

1814

.飯前に京へいて来る乙鳥哉
meshimae ni kyô e ite kuru tsubame kana

before dinner
off to Kyoto and back…
swallows

1814

.はつ蛍都の空はきたないぞ
hatsu-botaru miyako no sora wa kitanai zo

first firefly–
the sky over Kyoto
is smoggy!

Literally, Issa calls the sky “dirty” (kitanai).

1814

.蚊柱の穴から見ゆる都哉
ka-bashira no ana kara miyuru miyako kana

through a hole
in the mosquito swarm…
Kyoto

The mosquitoes are swarming in a column (ka-bashira). Sakuo Nakamura pictures Issa, as he approached Kyoto, feeling heavy pressure to do well in this cultural and literary center. “Those pressures stood before him like a mosquito swarm.”

1815

.出代が駕にめしたる都哉
degawari ga kago ni meshitaru miyako kana

one migrating servant
rides a palanquin…
Kyoto

In springtime, old servants were replaced by young ones. The old ones would leave their employers to return to their home villages; the young ones traveled in the opposite direction. In earlier times this took place during the Second Month; later, the Third Month. The “servant” in the palanquin is a geisha or courtesan.

1815

.京も京々の五条の乙鳥哉
kyô mo kyô kyô no go jô no tsubame kana

Kyoto, Kyoto!
on Kyoto’s Fifth Avenue…
swallows

Shinji Ogawa explains that jô in this haiku is not “line” (as I assumed in my first translation), but “avenue.”

1815

.むだ人や花の都も秋の風
muda hito ya hana no miyako mo aki no kaze

vain mankind!
even in blossoming Kyoto
autumn wind

Famous for its spring blossoms, even Kyoto must endure the cold wind of autumn.

1815

.でも花の都で候か汚れ雪
demo hana no miyako de soro ka kegare yuki

blossoming Kyoto
is it?
dirty snow

At the moment of the haiku, Kyoto isn’t living up to its reputation.

1816

.是程にけちな桜も都哉
kore hodo ni kechina sakura mo miyako kana

even around here
paltry cherry trees…
Kyoto

Shinji Ogawa thinks Issa is referring to a single tree:

even in the capital
such a miserable
cherry tree

Either way, the irony lies in the fact that Kyoto would normally be expected to flaunt the loveliest blooming trees. Shinji adds, “There are many famous places for cherry blossom viewing in Kyoto. The most famous place is Arashiyama, which holds 5,500 cherry trees. Some of Issa’s haiku show Kyoto-bashing. Perhaps it comes from the rivalry between Edo and Kyoto.” Edo (today’s Tokyo) was the Shogun’s center of power in Issa’s time; Kyoto was the old imperial capital.

1816

.茶仲間や田も青ませて京参り
cha nakama ya ta mo aomasete kyô mairi

stopping for tea
by rice fields so green…
pilgrims to Kyoto

1816

.京辺や冬篭さへいそがしき
miyakobe ya fuyugomori sae isogashiki

in a Kyoto suburb
even “winter seclusion”…
hustle and bustle

1817

.都ぢや梅干茶屋の梅の花
miyakoji ya umeboshi chaya no ume no hana

road to Kyoto–
at the pickled plum teahouse
plum blossoms

1819

.鋲打の駕で出代る都哉
byôuchi no kago de degawaru miyako kana

a studded palanquin
for the migrating servant…
Kyoto

In springtime, old servants were replaced by young ones. The old ones would leave their employers to return to their home villages; the young ones traveled in the opposite direction. In earlier times this took place during the Second Month; later, the Third Month. The migrating worker in this haiku is a geisha or courtesan. She is riding in a “riveted” (byôuchi) palanquin.

1819

.京の夜や白い帷子しろい笠
kyô no yo ya shiroi katabira shiroi-gasa

Kyoto night–
white summer kimonos
white umbrella-hats

The light summer garment in question is made of hemp: katabira. In this archive, I translate both katabira and awase as “summer kimono.”

1819

.急グかよ京一見のほととぎす
isogu ka yo kyô ikken no hototogisu

in a hurry?
he’s off to see Kyoto
the cuckoo

1819

.都哉橋の下にも年わすれ
miyako kana hashi no shita ni mo toshiwasure

Kyoto–
even under bridges
drinking away the year

Or: “under a bridge.”

This haiku refers to end-of-year drinking parties.

1819

.百敷や都は猫もふとん哉
momoshiki ya miyako wa neko mo futon kana

imperial palace–
in Kyoto even cats
have futons!

The opening word, momoshiki, literally means, “one hundred rooms”–a conventional epithet for the Imperial Palace.

1820

.京人や日傘の陰の野酒盛り
kyôbito ya higasu no kage no no-sakamori

people of Kyoto
in parasol shade
drinking sake

Or: “a citizen of Kyoto.”

1820

.さすとても都の蚊也夕涼
sasu totemo miyako no ka nari yûsuzumi

though they bite
they’re Kyoto mosquitoes…
evening cool

Totemo has an old meaning: temo (“even though”); Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1171.

1820

.京を出て一息つくかはつ忖
kyô wo dete hito iki tsuku ka hatsu hotaru

after leaving Kyoto
catching your breath?
first firefly

Issa sees a firefly “resting,” perhaps on a blade of grass. He humorously implies that it’s catching its breath after the excitement of touring Kyoto. Kyô wo dete, as Shinji Ogawa notes, means “after leaving Kyoto.”

1820

.京入の声を上けりしなのごま
kyô iri no koe wo age keri shinano-goma

entering Kyoto
he lets loose a neigh…
Shinano pony

This haiku alludes to an Eighth Month custom of sending a tribute horse from the pastures of Shinano (Issa’s home province, present-day Nagano Prefecture) to the capital, Kyoto.

1820

.京都では菊もかむるや綿えぼし
miyako [de] wa kiku mo kamuru ya wata eboshi

in Kyoto
even for chrysanthmums…
cotton courtier caps

In elegant Kyoto, even chrysanthemums wear impressive headgear–to protect them from the elements? In another text, Issa copies this haiku using the more standard verb kaburu (“to wear on the head”) in place of kamuru.

1820

.渋柿をこらへてくうや京の児
shibugaki wo koraete kuu ya miyako no ko

enduring the astringent
persimmon…
Kyoto child

1820

.京の児柿の渋さをかくしけり
miyako no ko kaki no shibusa wo kakushi keri

Kyoto child–
pretending the persimmon
is sweet

Actually, the persimmon is astringent, but the child hides this fact (kakushi).

This haiku recalls one that Issa wrote in 1809:

yabuiri ga kaki no shibusa wo kakushi keri

homecoming servant–
pretending the persimmon
is sweet

1820

.せき候も三弦にのる都哉
sekizoro mo samisen ni noru miyako kana

a samisen joins
the Twelfth Month singers…
Kyoto

Here, an elegant geisha playing a samisen adds her music to that of some roving beggar-singers–a wonderful expression of harmony transcending social classes. A samisen is a long-necked, three-stringed banjo-like instrument, plucked with a plectrum. Sekizoro refers to a Twelfth Month custom in which strolling singers wandered from town to town, singing festive celebration songs; Kiyose (Tokyo: Kakugawa Shoten, 1984) 348. Shinji Ogawa adds, “They covered their mouths like ladies in the Arab countries. They usually consisted of three or four persons with some types of musical instruments.”

1821

.短夜を橋で揃ふや京参り
mijika yo wo hashi de sorou ya kyô mairi

in the short night
crossing bridges en masse…
Kyoto pilgrimage

This haiku refers to a short night of summer.

1821

.灯ろ見の朝からさわぐ都かな
torô mi no asa kara sawagu miyako kana

Bon lantern viewing
from morning on a ruckus…
Kyoto

The Bon Festival of the Dead takes place in Eighth Month in the old lunar calendar. At this time, people light lanterns to guide their ancestors’ spirits back home.

1821

.京人やわら叩さへ小夜ぎぬた
keijin ya wara tataku sae sayo-ginuta

Kyoto people
even beat their straw!
night cloth-pounding

In Japan and Korea, fulling-blocks were used to pound fabric and bedding. The fabric was laid over a flat stone, covered with paper, and pounded, making a distinctive sound. In this haiku, Issa marvels that the people in the capital pound not only cloth but straw (mats) as well.

1822

.傘の雫もかすむ都哉
karakasa no shizuku mo kasumu miyako kana

paper umbrellas
dripping…
misty Kyoto

1822

.京迄は一筋道ぞ花見笠
kyô made wa hitosuji michi zo hanami-gasa

a straight line
all the way to Kyoto…
umbrella-hatted blossom viewers

In the shorthand of haiku, “blossoms” (hana) can mean “cherry blossoms.”

1822

.灯籠の火で夜なべする都かな
tôro no hi de yonabe suru miyako kana

night work lit
by a lantern for the dead…
Kyoto

The Bon Festival of the Dead takes place in Eighth Month in the old lunar calendar. At this time, people light lanterns to guide their ancestors’ spirits back home.

1822

.炭迄も鋸引や京住居
sumi made mo nokogiri hiku ya kyô-zumai

they even cut charcoal
with a saw!
life in Kyoto

Shinji Ogawa explains that the cheapest way to prepare charcoal is to simply crack it. However, the rich people in Kyoto preferred to have their charcoal neatly sawed.

1822

.ひとり身や薬喰にも都迄
hitori mi ya kusuri kuu ni mo miyako made

my life alone–
just to take medicine
a trip to Kyoto

“Medicine” (kusuri) is a winter season word. In a similar, undated haiku, Issa writes:

hitori mi ya ryôgoku e dete kusuri kuu

my life alone–
all the way to Ryogoku Bridge
for medicine

1823

.出代や山越て見る京の空
degawari ya yama koshite miru kyô no sora

migrating servants
crossing the mountain see…
Kyoto’s sky

1823

.花さくや京の美人の頬かぶり
hana saku ya kyô no bijin no hohokaburi

cherry blossoms–
the pretty women of Kyoto
cheeks wrapped in scarves

Literally, the pretty women of the capital (Kyoto) tie cloths around their cheeks, a fashion statement that symbolizes, for Lewis Mackenzie, their secular “known-nothingness.” See The Autumn Wind: A Selection from the Poems of Issa (London: John Murray, 1957; rpt. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1984), 63.

Shinji Ogawa has his doubts about this interpretation. He writes, “It is true that the metaphoric meaning of hohokaburi (“know-nothingism”) is used in Japanese, especially in modern Japanese, quite often, but the hohokaburi itself, especially in Issa’s day, was a quite normal way to wear the tenugui (“scarf”). This was the uniform of village girls working in the fields: something he saw every day back home.” Shinji adds, “It might have been rather refreshing for him to see that Kyoto’s pretty women, too, tied scarves around their cheeks in hohokaburi style.”

“Blossoms” (hana) can denote cherry blossoms in the shorthand of haiku.

1823

.あばれ蚊のそれでも都そだち哉
abare ka no soredemo miyako sodachi kana

a pesky mosquito
though raised
in Kyoto

Or: “pesky mosquitoes.”

1823

.雪払ふ拍子に都めぐり哉
yuki harau hyôshi ni miyako maguri kana

to the rhythm
of snow sweeping
touring Kyoto

1824

.初夢の不二の山売る都哉
hatsu yume no fuji no yama u[ru] miyako kana

year’s first dream–
Mount Fuji is sold
in Kyoto

Shinji Ogawa notes that in Issa’s Japan, at the end of year, special drawings were sold. It was believed that if one slept placing the drawing under the pillow, one would dream a wonderful first dream of the year. The best dream was believed to be of Mount Fuji. This is why Issa says, “Mount Fuji of the year’s first dream is sold in Kyoto.” Shinji continues: “The picture is called takara-bune, or treasure ship; it includes the seven saints of luck with rice bags.” This contextual knowledge helps us to read the haiku as Issa’s original audience might have done. However, to the modern reader unaware of this context, the translation alone, with its image of Mount Fuji being sold, is wonderfully surreal.

1824

.鶯の弟子披露する都哉
uguisu no deishi hirô suru miyako kana

the nightingale presents
his apprentice…
Kyoto

An older nightingale is training a younger “apprentice” (deishi) in the art of singing.

1824

.花見るも銭をとらるる都哉
hana miru mo zeni wo toraruru miyako kana

even viewing the cherry blossoms
costs money…
Kyoto

In the shorthand of haiku, “blossoms” (hana) can mean “cherry blossoms.”

1824

.はつ蛍つひに都をかけぬける
hatsu hotaru tsui ni miyako wo kakenukeru

first firefly–
carelessly it leaves
Kyoto

Shinji Ogawa observes that tsui ni has several meanings:”carelessly,” “swiftly,” or “finally.” And the verb kakenukeru has two possible meanings: to “run through” or “go out of.” Therefore, six translations are possible: (1) the firefly carelessly runs through Kyoto; (2) it carelessly leaves Kyoto; (3) it swiftly runs through Kyoto; (4) it swiftly leaves Kyoto; (5) it finally goes through Kyoto; and (6) it finally leaves Kyoto.

I’ve decided on option 2 for its humor: the firefly is headed in the wrong direction, leaving the blossom-filled capital.

1825

.京入も仏頂面のふくと哉
kyô iri mo butsu chôzura no fukuto kana

entering Kyoto too
a bunch of sour-faced
pufferfish!

The expression, butsu chôzura (Buddha-face) refers to a sullen or sour face. This haiku is not a very flattering portrait of its inhabitants.

year’s first dream–
Mount Fuji is sold
in Kyoto

Kobayashi Issa Tr. David Lanoue

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The following material is taken with thanks from Gabi Greve’s blog on Issa…或時は花の都にも倦にけり
aru toki wa hana no miyako ni mo aki ni keriin time even Kyoto,
great flower of a city,
fails to dazzle

This hokku was written when Issa was staying with haikai poets in Matsuyama on the island of Shikoku during the first month (February) of 1795 during a journey through Shikoku and western Honshu that was part of a longer series of journeys through western Japan he made after finishing his apprenticeship as a young haikai poet in Edo. The hokku is part of a haibun travelog by Issa usually referred to as Record of Travels in Western Provinces (Saigoku kikou 西国紀行), and it was written at a hokku meeting with poets in Matsuyama, so it is no doubt a greeting to the local haijin. Issa also took part in a kasen renku there.

Matsuyama is a fairly warm area, and the cherries are already in bloom when Issa writes, but his hokku refers to more than cherry blossoms. He uses a traditional epithet that refers to the whole city of Kyoto, which had long been the center of the imperial court and courtly culture, including waka, renga, and haikai. The phrase hana no miyako or “blossoming/flowering capital” was often used to praise Kyoto as the greatest flowering of art and culture in all of Japan, though “blossoming” was also used to refer to the glamorous, elegant sights of the city itself and its many festivals, performances, paintings, temples, and publishers. Even in Issa’s time Kyoto maintained much of its aura as the incomparable site of the flowering of traditional culture, even though popular arts were showing as much or more creativity in big cities like Edo, Osaka, and Nagoya. This expanded sense of “blossom” is similar to the notion behind the dynamic “blossom place” in renku.

It seems likely that Issa in this hokku is suggesting that even elegantly and culturally alluring Kyoto, including its cherry trees, eventually loses its aura and that he is even more interested in the country haikai and the blossoms in Matsuyama, since they are in their own way equal to those of Kyoto. Issa, born in a farming village, probably sincerely believed this, and he never seems to have thought of settling in Kyoto. In fact, he spent much more time in rural areas during his many journeys at the end of the eighteenth century. And unknown, of course, to Issa, Matsuyama would later become the birthplace of Shiki and play an important role in the creation of modern Japanese haiku as a new genre.

Chris Drake

6/07/2014 Gabi Greve – Issa said…Kobayashi Issa

傘の雫もかすむ都哉
karakasa no shizuku mo kasumu miyako kana

paper umbrellas
dripping…
misty Kyoto

(Tr. David Lanoue)

*************************

Gabi Greve – Issa said…

Kobayashi Issa

京迄は一筋道ぞ花見笠
kyoo made wa hitosuji michi zo hanami-gasa

on one road
all the way to Kyoto —
blossom-viewing hats

This hokku is from the ninth month (October) of 1822, but it has the word “spring” above it in Issa’s diary. It seems to be a hokku presenting an almost ecstatic vision on a very large scale. There were two main routes linking Edo and Kyoto, one following the Pacific coast and one going through the mountains of central Honshu, but I take Issa to be referring to the Tokaido road going along the Pacific coast, since the road through the mountains branched off here and there, while the second line of the hokku says a single road road extends all the way to Kyoto. The weather near the Pacific was also warmer, so there would be cherries in bloom all the way from Edo, where the shogun lived, to Kyoto, the ancient imperial capital. The Tokaido road was 492 km (306 miles) long, and the journey from Edo to Kyoto usually took about two weeks, though travelers had a variety of inns and restaurants to choose from along the way. One thing almost every traveler wore was a wide hat woven from rush, straw, bamboo, or other materials. Some were conical in shape, others flat or rounded, but Issa says that at this time of year they all equally turn into hats for cherry blossom viewing.

The long journey was arduous for most travelers, but the hokku seems to be suggesting that at this time of year people forget their difficulties and participate in a great collective blossom-viewing walk that goes on and on dreamlike for two weeks. The physical hats look the same as they were before their wearers began the trip, but the feelings of the wearers are no longer the same. One indication of the transformation seems to be the double meaning of “on one road,” hinted at by Issa’s use of the emphatic particle zo together with it: here “on one road” can mean not only 1) traveling on one physical road but also 2) with all your heart, intently, as if possessed by the blossoms.

Sometime during the 1790s Issa wrote a somewhat similar hokku:

the season, too, perfect —
blossom-viewing hats
in all fifty-three towns

koro mo yoshi gojuusan-tsugi hanami-gasa

This is a farewell hokku to a fellow haikai poet who is leaving for Kyoto. The first line suggests that the man setting out is as outstanding as the season, and the hokku as a whole seems to be a prayer that his traveler’s hat turn into into a blossom-viewing hat each day as he passes through all fifty-three main inn towns on the Tokaido route to Kyoto along with many other blossom-loving travelers.

Chris Drake

Books set in Kyoto

Basho on Kyoto

July 28, 2015

Country folks about rice
Sing their poems –
Like Kyoto people do

1688, tr. Saito and Nelson (satobito wa ine ni utayomu miyako kana)

Mt Arashi
Bamboo groves luxuriant –
Furrows of the wind.

1691, tr. Saito and Nelson (arashiyama yabu no shigeriya kaze no suji)

**********

Jeff Robbins contributes this haibun (his translation)

Cooling off by the river at Shijo

is a custom from the time of the evening moon

till it passes through the dawn sky.

People line up on a platform over the river to pass

the night drinking, eating, and having a good time.

The women’s kimono sashes are extravagant,

the men’s haori jackets long in the formal style,

Buddhist priests mingle with old folks, and even

the blacksmith’s and bucket maker’s apprentices,

their faces smiling with leisure, sing loud rowdy songs.

It is a scene to be expected in Kyoto.

River breeze —

wearing pale persimmon

in evening cool

*********************

Of Kyoto, weary –
this icy wind
A winter dwelling (1691) tr. Saito and Nelson

kyou ni akite kono kogarashiya fuyuzumai

(Jeff Robbins notes the haiku was written on B’s return to Edo after hanging out in Kansai two years. This is a greeting verse to his host who gave him a place to stay out of the cold wind. Basho is not saying he is tired of Kyoto, but rather that his host is glad to be away from the noisy populous city. So Basho’s focus is on the other person’s experience. (I did not get this for many years, but only from reading Haruo Shirane’s book on Basho, Traces of Dreams, did I realize that Basho was not a “social recluse” but instead constantly reaching out to other people. )

*********************
*********************

The following listing, reproduced with permission, was compiled by Gabi Greve at http://matsuobasho-wkd.blogspot.jp/2012/06/kyoto-miyako.html

京まではまだ半空や雪の雲
. Kyoo made wa mada nakazora ya yuki no kumo .
(winter) snow, clouds, half-way

. Kyoo mo tooku Narumi ga taharukeki
umi o naka ni hedatete .
alone at the beach of Narumi

京に飽きてこの木枯や冬住ひ
. Kyoo ni akite kono kogarashi ya fuyuzumai .
(winter) winter storm. I am bored by Kyoto. lodging in winter
for – Suganuma Gon-emon 菅沼権右衛門耕月 Kogetsu –

京にても京なつかしやほととぎす
. Kyoo ni te mo Kyoo natsukashi ya hototogisu . Kyoo nite mo
(summer) little cuckoo, longing for Kyoto

京は九万九千くんじゆの花見哉
. Kyoo wa kuman kusen kunju no hanami kana .
(spring) ninety-nine thousand (people). watching cherry blossoms

天秤や京江戸かけて千代の春
. tenbin ya Kyoo Edo kakete chiyo no haru .
comparing Edo and Kyoto

梅が香やしらら落窪京太郎
. Ume ga ka ya Shirara Ochikubo Kyōtarō .
Kyootaroo. Allusion to the story Jōruri-hime Monogatari.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

– – – – – Miyako – – – – –

雁聞きに京の秋に赴かん
kari kiki ni miyako no aki ni omomukan

to listen to the geese
in the autumn of the capital
I will set out

Written in autumn of 1690 元禄3年秋.
It is not clear weather this is a hokku by Basho himself.

In a letter to
. Takahashi Dosui 高橋怒誰 .

………………………………………………………………..

都出でて神も旅寝の日数哉
. miyako idete kami mo tabine no hikazu kana .
I left the capital

子の日しに都へ行かん友もがな
. ne no hi shi ni miyako e ikan tomo mo gana / nenohi.
(New Year) day of the rat. capital Kyoto. no friend

里人は稻に歌詠む都かな
. (satobito) sato-bito wa ine ni uta yomu miyako kana .
(summer) rice plant. the local people. to sing. the capital Kyoto

塩にしてもいざ言伝てん都鳥
. shio ni shite mo iza kotozuten Miyako-dori .
“bird of the capital”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

瓜の皮剥いたところや蓮台野
. uri no kawa muita tokoro ya Rendaino .

Rendaino was a famous graveyard in Kyoto.
The word is also used for graveyards elsewhere.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

たんだすめ住めば都ぞ今日の月
tanda sume sumeba miyako zo kyoo no tsuki
Tanda sume sumeba miyako zo kyô no tsuki

Only live and let it be clear!
If you live in the capital Kyô,
today’s full moon so clear

Basho played with homonyms: “sume” means “clear” and “live”; “kyô” means “Kyoto” and “today”. His haiku at this time was far from his later work that developed a mental depth that was non-existent in haiku before. The above poem followed the examples by haiku school called Danrin which was quite popular at that time. This school was most characterized by playing with words and humor and lacked mental or emotional substance. Basho’s rhetorical skill at this point in his career is not so excellent, though it was far from mediocre.
His haiku writing was not based on the particulars of reality experienced by himself. Basho was a mere young countryman of poetry imitating the days’ fashion of haiku writing.

The following comes from Gabi Greve’s kigo database at http://worldkigodatabase.blogspot.jp/2010/07/kyoto-hana-no-miyako.html

京まではまだ半空や雪の雲
Kyoo made wa mada nakazora ya yuki no kumo

until Kyoto
it is just half-way –
clouds with snow

Matsuo Basho, 44 years old, written at Narumi

. . . . .

source : suisai-blog.com

Matsuo Basho stayed at Genjuu-An (幻住庵) in Shiga in the year Genroku 3 (1690), but had been on a visit to Kyoto. The following haiku has the cut marker YA at the end of line two and the name of the bird, hototogisu, as the last line.

京にても京なつかしや時鳥
Kyoo ni te mo Kyoo natsukashi ya hototogisu

even when in Kyoto
I long for Kyoto –
hototogisu
– Tr. Gabi Greve

Even in Kyoto —
hearing the cuckoo’s cry —
I long for Kyoto.
– Tr. Robert Hass

Bird of time –
in Kyoto, pining
for Kyoto.
– Tr. Lucien Stryk

Writers in focus

Presenting Robert Yellin

July 27, 2015

Ode to Japanese Pottery was published first in Japanese in 1995 by the now defunct 光芸出版 and later in English in 2004 by Coherence. I wrote this book for a Japanese audience when I was still a collector, writing my Ceramic Scene column for The Japan Times and teaching at Aoyama University, among other places. I dedicated the book to my parents, and just this month my dear mother at 85 ‘took flight.’ She loved Japan and after I gave her a Bizen yunomi she could never drink tea from a machine-made mug again.

************

“Living with Japanese pottery has opened my eyes to a world of beauty and thought. It has guided my senses and spirit to an understanding of daily living as an opportunity to experience the divine in the routine motions of daily life. Using Japanese pottery has allowed me to appreciate everyday crafts that when properly arranged and balanced enter into the realm of art and seep into one’s life and personality. It has been this way for centuries in Japan and continues into the present.

There are forms of pottery in Japan that have changed little for hundreds of years. Yet there are potters living today who do not make academic copies of the ancient masterpieces, yet who infuse into the flowing tradition an expression of the present age. These are the potters whose pieces I have sought out, potters who carry on a dialogue with the masters of centuries past. In this way pottery of eternal beauty is born. These pieces I bring into my daily life and as such a simple and profound beauty has seeped into my soul.

This is the wisdom to be found in the Way of Tea and the Japanese culture of food. Unfortunately, many Japanese have forgotten their own culture and surround their lives with machine-man objects. Such objects made not from the soul but from the mind of business, indeed useful objects on one level yet certainly not made to uplift the spirit.

Yanagi Soetsu, the founder of the Mingei movement, wrote in his classic book The Unknown Craftsman, “On reflection, one must conclude that in bringing cheap and useful goods to the average household, industrialism has been a service to mankind, but at the cost of the heart, of warmth, friendliness and beauty.” And I would like to add to these words “at the expense of nature and the precious resources of this glorious yet fragile home we all share, Earth. If we use objects in our daily life that move the heart and help us to transcend our daily routines and thinking, we may be able to lift our spirits to a plane that will incorporate caring for the earth as part of our limited existence. And nothing seems to be more appropriate than using pottery, which brings together earth, air, fire and water, the very elements that gave us life.”………..

A partial backlog of my Japan Times column can be found here:http://www.e-yakimono.net/html/japan-times-index.html

Writers in focus

Introducing Bernie MacMugen

July 23, 2015

WiK has a diverse membership, with writers working in genres that range from modern poetry to novels, non-fiction and educational material. Tea master Bernie MacMugen comes to books from a different angle. A true bibliophile, he not only collects rare books but has a special interest in binding and publishing. As such he brings to WiK a knowledge and expertise that complements those of us who live in the abstract world more than the practical.

************************

Why Kyoto ?

I am often asked,’Why did you come to Japan’? Or, ‘why Kyoto?’ But I really did not decide to come to Kyoto myself. It was someone else’s decision to come to Kyoto many centuries ago.

Murata Juko (1423-1502) moved to Kyoto from Nara in about 1444 after ten years of ‘unsuccessful’ priestly studies at Shomyoji. He eventually studied Zen at Daitokuji under Ikkyu. This is the beginning of the development of Cha no Yu or Chado as we know it today. From its beginnings in Murata’s thatched hut on Sanjo Street near the Duck River, Kyoto remains the heart of Tea.

I came to Kyoto nearly twenty years ago to study Murata’s style of tea. I continue my studies and also make wooden tea utensils. I also have a fondness for books and study hand bookbinding. I am also beginning to re-publish old out-of-print books which I feel need to be in print.

To explain more about my interest in Tea, here is an excerpt from an essay I wrote as part of the process to get a scholarship to study in Kyoto:

“The evolution of Chado has had many important influences on the Japanese and their culture. I feel in the future Chado will have the same type of influence on all humans that seek to study its meaning. From its beginning as a carefully considered way of preparing and drinking tea by ‘Chinese Zen’ monks, today it has become a catalyst for the pursuit of peace on Earth.

Many westerners have been drawn to Japanese arts as I have, but there has been a disproportionate amount of interest in the Martial Arts. While the Martial Arts of Japan are very spiritual, they are still arts of conflict and war. There are, however, other Zen influenced arts that are quite peaceful in nature. Foremost among these is Chado, which is truly an art of peace. With its serene communion of a small group of people, and its appreciation of nature, here lie the roots that can grow into a healthier Earth.

For hundreds of years, Chado has been a way for people to take a brief moment to appreciate each other and to exemplify Wa, Kei, Sei, Jaku. Harmony, Respect, Purity, and Tranquility. In the middle of the last century there was a great unexpected change in the evolution of Chado, when Soshitsu Sen XV of the Urasenke Tradition began to spread it throughout the rest of the Earth. He wanted to promote cultural understanding between Japan and other nations of the Earth. I think that the way people from different cultures and backgrounds have embraced Chado from all over the Earth in the last three decades shows that Chado is no longer a purely Japanese pursuit, but a human pursuit.

The evolution of this organism we call Earth is fascinating. The diversity of life and its beauty is, as far as we know, unique in the universe. Our evolution as humans is also unique in the fact that we now have the power to determine the fate of the Earth by the way we conduct ourselves. We as humans must put our egos aside and realize that we are all one Earth organism. We have been in conflict with ourselves for all our history. I feel that before we can truly realize our full potential in the universe we must heal ourselves and the Earth. We must work to find ways to bring all humans together into one peaceful culture. This has been somewhat attempted on a large scale with organizations like the United Nations. However, I believe this must be accomplished through intimate cultural exchange and understanding.

I feel that the way the Urasenke tradition of Chado has worked to introduce Japanese culture throughout the Earth is the beginning of something much bigger and important to all human cultures. With the same influence that all the great Chajin in history have had on the evolution of Japanese culture, I feel that the Chajin of the future will have a direct influence on the evolution of humanity.”

MacMugen Somu, is an associate professor (Jun-Kyoju) of the Urasenke tradition of Cha no Yu and a member of the Ichiukai study group.

Bernie MacMugen

Writers in focus

Featuring Ted Taylor

July 18, 2015

Ted Taylor quizzed by Michael Lambe

Ted Taylor

Edward J. Taylor (Ted to his friends) is probably best known for his blog, Notes from the ‘Nog’, and as a contributing editor for Kyoto Journal. However his work has also appeared in The Japan Times, Resurgence, Outdoor Japan, Kansai Time Out, Elephant Journal and a host of other print and online publications. Last year he co-edited the Deep Kyoto: Walks ebook anthology, and he also has a number of other books and translations of his own in the pipeline of which we shall learn more below. For this WiK article he was interviewed by his friend and co-editor on the Deep Kyoto: Walks project, Michael Lambe.

How would you describe your writing?

Creative non-fiction. Travel writing primarily.

You’re a keen hiker as we know well from your blog, Notes from the Nog. How does the rhythm of walking affect your writing?

Walking is simply my preferred method of travel. It slows things down to the pace of a snapshot, and allows me time to think more deeply about what I engage as I go along.

Would you say your writing has an essential message?

Not particularly. I am simply hoping to capture what Japan is like at this time in its history. When Alan Booth did his great walk back in the mid-70’s, he reported on the old storytellers. Most of those are now gone, so I am hoping to report on the stories of those who are left

Why do you write?

I can’t not.

What are your major literary influences?

In no particular order: W. Somerset Maugham. Graham Greene. Richard Ford. Norman Lewis. Raymond Carver. Gary Snyder. Denis Johnson. Jack Kerouac. Santoka. Issa. Ryokan. Tu Fu. Many many others…

Do you have any other sources of inspiration?

In terms of storytelling, I love the films of Ozu, especially his use of ‘ma,’ which we could think of as negative space. There is so much he doesn’t show, yet still manages to convey. I sometimes try to describe something in a roundabout way, to allude to it rather than simply saying that “the sun is shining.”

Also, you mentioned rhythm before. I have been a musician since I was a child, and often play with punctuation in order to give a paragraph a certain rhythm. Michael, you yourself have scolded me for double spacing after a period, but it is very much intentional. And I also like to throw in the occasional song lyric as a kind of in-joke.

What writing projects do you currently have on the boil?

Over the winter I helped a Zen priest translate his own book called The Little Prince Talks Zen, based on Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic. We are looking for a publisher. I will begin a second book of his called Momo Talks Zen this summer, based on a children’s book by the German author Micheal Ende. I am also working with two foreign writers in the Kansai area in an editorial capacity, on projects that haven’t really gotten off the ground.

My manuscript on my Shikoku pilgrimage needs one final edit, then I will send it off. Another manuscript of mine on atomic tourism also needs one last look. Plus there are about three other manuscripts nearly finished, all on random walks around Japan. Unfortunately my part-time work as a hiking guide as well as other personal matters have kept me from my desk for too long.

Is writing a political act for you? What are your politics?

Environmental politics have always been important to me. That’s why I am so interested in the old stories, as they can remind us of a way to live more deeply and more sustainably. I think that things have gotten to the point that every act needs to be a political act. As the old saying goes: ‘If you aren’t part of the solution you’re part of the problem.’

Tell us about your spiritual or philosophical journey.

That’s a whole other interview, dude. But I feel the same way; that every act needs to be a spiritual act.

What brought you to Japan?

The old cliché: I wanted to study Zen and martial arts. (The new cliché appears to be: I want to dress as a furry creature and play video games.)

Roads to Sata

How does Japan inspire you?

Even after 20 years I still experience something new every week. And the countryside is magical.

How would you describe your relationship with Japan, and with Kyoto in particular?

I happen to be pretty frustrated with Japan at the moment, mainly with the current abusive political climate and the average citizen’s apparent unwillingness to do anything about it. Kyoto too has frustrated me in the past, but I am quite enamored with it these days. Mainly due to the creativity of the people here. It’s a good place to be a writer.

If you were to recommend one book on Japan, what would it be?

The Roads to Sata. Hands, down. It reveals more with every re-read.

What one book would you recommend on Kyoto?

By the Old Walls of Kyoto. An overlooked masterpiece. (See the recent WiK post on author Harold Stewart.)

What is your greatest achievement so far?

Spending only two years of my life working a full time job. I’ve somehow found a way to work minimally and still make enough to let me pursue the things that interest me.

What is one thing you feel you must achieve before you die?

Finish the hard copy version of our Deep Kyoto: Walks. Our self-published book isn’t going to publish itself.

Deep Kyoto: Walks is available on Kindle at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.jp

Featured writing

Kyoto Journal food issue

July 12, 2015

Here is an update on Kyoto Journal’s next offering, from Writers in Kyoto member Ken Rodgers, one of the founders of KJ and managing editor since 1993.

FOOD!

Food pervades every area of our existence.

It sustains us. It inspires us. It enslaves us.

It educates us. It may kill us.

It allows us to communicate with the Gods.

Your Food is not mine, nor mine yours, but we may share it,

and in so doing, what joy.

Few remain silent on Food. And why would one?

What a natural topic for discussion, discourse, eulogy, outrage, comedy, reflection, prayer, ire, poetry, love…

Food is simultaneously universal and particular, literal and metaphoric.

It is edible, incredible fun, a celebration of life itself.

And so many of its greatest exponents and proponents live here in Asia.

The all-volunteer-produced Kyoto Journal ‘s 8th digital issue and 83rd issue—FOOD!—exploring the essence of what we eat, in all of the above aspects, will be released on August 3rd, 2015 (downloadable from Newsstand, and KJ’s website, www.kyotojournal.org/).

Guest Editor John F. Ashburne, long-time Kyoto resident, has written for the Wall Street Journal, Forbes, The Japan Times, Louis Vuitton City Guide Kyoto Nara 2011 and Wall Street Journal Asia, and authored the Lonely Planet Food Guide Japan.

On the FOOD! menu:

An exclusive preview of the first volume in a series of books that will be the most significant work on Japanese Cuisine ever to be published, the Japanese Culinary Academy’s Complete Japanese Cuisine.

Its first volume, the “Introduction to Japanese Cuisine: Nature, History and Culture,” to be published worldwide in English in August 2015, is a seminal tome featuring essays on the culture and science of Food, and beautifully illustrated recipes from highly-regarded Kyoto-based restaurants.

Interviews with world-class chefs Rene Redzepi (owner/chef of restaurantNoma in Copenhagen, Denmark, voted “the best restaurant in the world” four times in the San Pellegrino Awards); Murata Yoshihiro, the Doyen of Japanese Cuisine, founder of the Japan Culinary Association and owner/chef at Kyoto’s famed Kikunoi kaiseki ryori restaurant; and Michelin award-winning chefs Kenichi Hashimoto and Hajime Yoneda. Also interviewed, former Jain monk, pilgrim, writer and educator Satish Kumar, expounding on food in relation to non-violence, mindfulness, restraint, gratitude and fasting. Meanwhile Martin Frid, of the Consumer’s Union of Japan, discusses present-day food safety and food security—vital issues in a country that imports around 60% of its food.

The Milk of Paradise: Mother, Mantra, and Our First Food, by James N. Powell, explores our deepest and earliest connections with “nature”—and the divine—through mother’s milk. In Food from Beyond the Bridge of Dreams anthropologist Kaori O’Connor deconstructs Japan’s national cuisine, tracing its historical and cultural roots back into Heian times and Japanese mythology. Once to Feast in the Northern Capital, by Douglas Penick, reconstructs the imperial inauguration of Beijing’s Forbidden City, in 1421. Days of Eating Earth, by Minakami Tsutomu, is a firsthand description of a priest’s rigorous dedication to eking out shojin ryori, Buddhist cuisine, from minimal ingredients, never before translated into English.

Other writers including Wendy Jones-Nakanishi, Karen Ma, Gene Nakano, ShimaYoshida and Suvendrini Kakuchi evoke treasured memories of family occasions and home cooking. In Tibetan Butter Tea and Pink Gin: Life in Old Darjeeling, Ann Tashi Slater weaves a fascinating tale of her Tibetan grandmother in Raj-era India.

My Dinner with Paul Reps is a meditation on the ancient tradition of food offerings to Buddhist practitioners, by the author of Sleeping in Caves, Marilyn Stablein. The Great Wave Has Broken, by Bill Clements, investigates the astonishing worldwide downturn in the numbers of farmers—the people actually producing the world’s essential staple food stocks (the USA has more prison inmates than full-time farmers…). Geoffrey Gunn revisits The Great Vietnamese Famine of 1944-45, and full circle from mothers’ milk, Jason Danely explores foodcare for the terminally ill.

KJ Rambler-at-large Robert Brady (soon to publish his long-awaited collection The Big Elsewhere) contributes conflicting human and simian perspectives on foraging, in Free Lunch with Onions, while culinary perspectives also collide in Rosti, by Allen Koshewa, set in Koh Samui. We also visit an Ainu restaurant in Tokyo and a nomadic cafe in Kyoto that uses otherwise-discarded “mis-shapen” vegetables. Plus, a special feature: the unmissable Food Alphabet, an A-Z directory.

Our FOOD! celebration party (a potluck, naturally) will be on Saturday July 25th at Impact HUB Kyoto, from 5:30pm (map here: www.kyotojournal.org/events/kyohaku-in-map/). All welcome, bring a friend!

Brady poems

Writers in focus

Işıl Bayraktar reporting…

July 7, 2015

Işıl Bayraktar is currently MEXT (Japanese education ministry) research student engaged in doctoral research at the Graduate School of Sociology at Kyoto University on family change and aging in Turkey and Japan. She keeps a blog and also writes travel notes, short stories and book reviews for several Turkish journals and books.

Here Isil reports on an event organised by WiK partner, SWET Kansai, with whom we hope to cooperate on similar sorts of writing activities in future…

**********************

EVENT REPORT – Walk ’n Write in Kyoto: A SWET Event with Rebecca Otowa

Excited to be part of a walking, writing, and sharing event led by Rebecca Otowa, author of At Home in Japan and My Awesome Japan Adventure, I was one of the eight people who gathered in the rain on March 1 in the shadow of the beautiful gate of Heian Shrine. Although we had prepared ourselves for a day among the trees, water lilies, and history of the shrine’s formal garden, the rain, with all its beauty and power, seemed to be telling us to come another day!

The rain being rather heavy, we agreed on going to the Kyoto International Exhibition Hall (Miyakomesse), which is home to the Kyoto Museum of Traditional Crafts (Fureaikan). The museum features exhibits of 74 types of crafts including ornamental floral hairpins (kanzashi), Nishijin textiles, Kyoto yuzen dyed fabrics, and Kyoto fans. The exhibits offered us a journey into these traditional crafts. The crafts spoke to each of us differently.

maiko-picture-in_the_article

As we completed our tour through the crafts exhibits, the scheduled performance of traditional maiko dance was beginning. After having toured the displays of traditional crafts, we could better appreciate themaiko’s handmade kimono with its 6.5-meter-long obi made of fine silk, her make-up, and the floral hairpins in her hair—we realized we were experiencing the traditional crafts through the intermediary of the maiko. Watching her small steps and the expression on her face made us to want to know more. Who really knows the whole story of the maiko? What are the other faces of being a maiko in Kyoto besides performing traditional dances? Thoughts stimulated by the exhibition of traditional crafts, the dance, ruminations on the education, tastes, facial expressions and daily lives of the maiko, and much more filling our heads, we moved on to Tadg’s Irish Pub in Kiyamachi Sanjo for our writing and sharing time.

After ordering snacks and drinks, we started to write down our impressions of our afternoon spent at the Exhibition Hall. What we wrote could be haiku, flash fiction, micropoetry, a sonnet, a plain old paragraph—any medium would do! Following our own muse, as our leader Rebecca Otowa encouraged us to do, we were writing based on our thoughts and impressions, without worrying about the type of written work; we were writing just as the words came to us. What we wrote would be reflection on the arts, the dance we saw, the maiko herself, specific craft items, or even the time we had not spent in the beautiful Heian garden. We might be pondering, too, on the rain or the writer who reminds us that life generates hope within what might seem a hopeless environment.

After we finished writing, we agreed to read what we had written for the group. The readings demonstrated what different words, different impressions, and different approaches we each have to the same images. It was a valuable chance to think again on the meaning of writing through the traditions we had observed.

Our lovely writing day ended with plans for another writing event, hopefully in the Heian Shrine garden. We were all very grateful to SWET and Rebecca Otowa for organizing this wonderful event!

Group_picture_2

Writers In Kyoto

Page 62 of 65

Writers in focus

The double life of Marianne Kimura

Books set in Kyoto

Kyoto places in haiku

Books set in Kyoto

Shiki and Buson on Kyoto

Books set in Kyoto

Issa on Kyoto

Books set in Kyoto

Basho on Kyoto

Writers in focus

Presenting Robert Yellin

Writers in focus

Introducing Bernie MacMugen

Writers in focus

Featuring Ted Taylor

Featured writing

Kyoto Journal food issue

Writers in focus

Işıl Bayraktar reporting…

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