HAIKU DIALOGUE – Allusion – Engaging with Other Forms – commentary

Allusion with Guest Editor Allyson Whipple

Though the writing of haiku is often a solitary act, each individual effort is part of a centuries-old tradition that is bound up in a larger collective impulse. Allusion allows us to be in dialogue with both the past and present, focused within the world of literature or expanding out to broader cultural memory. Using allusion also reminds us that nobody creates in a vacuum; our poetic selves are comprised of all we have written, studied, and experienced. Over the next several weeks, we will focus on writing allusive haiku that foster our sense of a global haiku collective.

Below is Allyson’s commentary for Engaging with Other Forms:

Welcome to the final round of commentary for this series on Allusion. Thanks again to everyone who shared their poems. I’m glad that so many of you found this to be a fruitful creative experience. I felt that this prompt was particularly challenging, but everyone truly rose to the occasion. I was fascinated by the range of works that inspired people, and impressed at all the ways in which people found to allude to architecture, painting, and everything in between.

Assemblage

“Étant donnés”

through his old door
given peepholes into
our passion too

Kathabela Wilson
United States

“Étant donnés: 1° la chute d’eau / 2° le gaz d’éclairage” / “Given: 1. The Waterfall, 2. The Illuminating Gas” (commonly referred to as “Étant donnés”) is Marcel Duchamp’s final major artwork. The assemblage, produced in 1966, is a mixed-media work composed of a wooden door, various types of metal and fasteners, velvet, leaves, twigs, parchment, hair, glass, plastic, clothespins, paint, linoleum lights, photography, and an electric motor. The tableau depicts the torso, legs, and one arm of a nude woman lying supine on a hill, holding a gas lamp. As a three-dimensional assemblage, it is difficult for any photograph to convey the full size and scope of the work. At once surrealist, erotic, and pastoral, this piece is ultimately ambiguous and unnerving. In just three lines, Kathabela Wilson touches on the voyeuristic aspects of the work. She refers specifically to the old door that opens to the image, rather than to the image itself. The aspect of the assemblage that is most shocking is implied in the poem rather than described. Rather, the second and third lines indicate that we are going to read our own desires and/or fears onto the work (not everyone interprets it as a scene of passion; some see it as the aftermath of an assault). By referring to the door rather than attempting to explain the scene, Kathabela not only alludes to the original piece, but also points to the ways in which Duchamp requires us to interrogate our own assumptions and beliefs when we encounter the work.

Literature

Don Quixote

each his windmill —
the finch keeps fighting
with the porch window

Michael Pappafava
Belgium

Miguel de Cervantes’ seventeenth-century novel The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha (commonly referred to as Don Quixote) is a two-part tale detailing the misadventures of the foolish Alonso Quijano, a minor nobleman who reads too many chivalric romances and, under the effects of literary intoxication, decides to become a knight and restore medieval chivalry to Spain. In one of his many misadventures, he attacks a cluster of windmills, believing that they are ferocious giants attacking the countryside; the phrase “tilting at windmills” refers to a person taking on some grandiose but ultimately foolish task. By referring just to the windmills, Michael Pappafava has created a haiku that alludes to this classical novel while also conveying the present moment. The tiny finch is attacking the large porch window, presumably fighting its own reflection, but all that effort will ultimately be wasted. But while we might laugh at the finch, the first line reminds us that we, like Don Quixote, are all subject to our own follies. For all of our human accomplishments, at the end of the day, we’re still just as foolish as a tiny bird snapping at glass, and though Quixote is a fictional character, his errors are ultimately real.

“Fog”

misty morning…
a feral cat slinks
across the street

Nancy Brady
Huron, OH, USA

Barely longer than the source text, Nancy Brady creates an allusion by keeping the poem in the autumn season and invoking a non-metaphorical cat. Both “fog” and “mist” are autumn season words in classical saijiki, and are similar weather phenomena. Both are meteorological events in which microscopic water droplets condense at the earth’s surface. Fog is heavier and obscures visibility, where mist is lighter and generally doesn’t reduce visibility much, if at all. One of the things I have always admired about Carl Sandburg’s original poem is the way in which he eschews simile. The fog is not like a cat, it is a cat. In Nancy’s haiku, the weather and the cat are separate, but that is fitting. Fog moves lightly the way a cat does, but is also thick and dense. If you have a cat with heavy fur, or if you’ve had one lie with its entire weight on your chest, you know that even a small feline can have a hefty presence. Mist, however, has more the feeling of light rain; it is less tangible than fog. It does not have the soft, heady feeling of cat fur. By splitting the original metaphor into discrete elements, Nancy Brady maintains the allusion and the seasonal feel while also conveying the difference between two phenomena.

“Little Snow-White”

magic mirror —
do I see
my true self

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, OH, USA

One of the classic fairy tales of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, “Little Snow-White” has gone on to inspire hundreds of retellings in both literature and cinema. The titular protagonist faces repeated threats on her life because she is more beautiful than her vain, arrogant stepmother (who also happens to be a queen). Those of us familiar with one or more renditions of the story know the refrain, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, / Who in this land is fairest of all?,” which the wicked queen asks to her magic mirror to alternately soothe her ego or verify that Snow White is still alive. The mirror can only speak the truth, and as long as Snow White has outsmarted the queen’s plans, she remains the most beautiful. Valentina Ranaldi-Adams alludes to the tale of Snow White by referencing the magic mirror in the first line. In the second and third lines of this senryu, the speaker questions whether the reflection in the glass is an accurate depiction of reality. Outside of the referenced story, mirrors are often used to symbolize vanity and a shallow nature. In addition, when you look in a mirror, the reflection might be distorted in two ways: first by the nature of the glass itself, and second by the way you perceive yourself. A mirror cannot be a true expression of reality due to the limitations of the materials and the filters of our own minds. In “Little Snow-White,” the queen uses the mirror not just to feed her own ego, but also to further her evil agenda. In Valentina’s senryu, the mirror connects us back to the fairy tale and asks us to consider our own vanity as well as our own perceptions and motivations.

Music

“The End”

last light
is the west
still the best?

Sarah Paris
Santa Rosa, CA, USA

”The End,” which appears on The Doors’ self-titled debut album, is a 12-minute jam that, while inspired by a romantic breakup, also contains historical and mythological allusions (namely ancient Roman and Greek). Not adhering to a commercial song structure, the refrain “the west is the best” appears in the long fourth verse, somewhere roughly in the midpoint of the song. It could refer to the West Coast of the United States. However, given the persistent and increasing bleakness as the song goes on (including the word “kill” also being used as a refrain near the conclusion of the piece), and the fact that the United States was in the middle of the Vietnam War at the time, it’s difficult to not read a sense of irony in the phrase “the west is the best.” By turning the refrain into a question, Sarah Paris shows her own awareness of that irony. The word “west” could also be used as shorthand for the broader concept of Western Civilization (of which the aforementioned Roman and Greek mythology are considered part). While the United States is only a part (and given its age, a relatively small part) of Western Civilization, it has, for at least a portion of its history, had a large influence. Sarah opens this haiku with an unassuming first line, but then takes a big political risk. By invoking “The End” and using the refrain as a question, she asks us to consider the past 58 years since the song was written and question whether Western Civilization in general, and the United States in particular, is really a pinnacle of culture – and indeed, not just if it still is, but if it ever was to begin with.

Painting

“Café Terrace at Night”

table for one…
I stop counting my drinks
and count stars instead

Baisali Chatterjee Dutt
India

In this haiku, Baisali Chatterjee Dutt alludes not just to a specific painting, but also to Vincent Van Gogh’s personal struggles. The first line points to the assemblage of small tables and single chairs on the terrace; while two chairs could be pulled to a table, this is a place where people can dine or drink alone. The second line refers to excessive drinking, and alludes to the ways in which Van Gogh often struggled with alcohol consumption as a facet of his mental illness. I think it’s worth knowing that “Café Terrace at Night” was composed in Arles, France. While a heavy drinker in Paris, Van Gogh found it easier to stay sober in smaller cities; he created this painting in a place where he could stop drinking. The third line makes another Van Gogh allusion, this time to “The Starry Night,” arguably his most famous work. By putting down the glass, the speaker of the poem is able to clear their head and tap into their creative potential. The use of first person point of view combined with the allusions makes me believe that Baisali is writing from the perspective of Van Gogh himself, though it could potentially be more autobiographical, creating a sense of connection among artists who struggle with maintaining emotional and creative clarity amidst the challenges life throws our way.

“A Friend in Need”

online poker—
teaching an old dog
new tricks

thomas david
United Kingdom

“A Friend in Need” is a 1903 installment in a series of Cassius Marcellus Coolidge paintings collectively referred to as “Dogs Playing Poker.” In the specific painting thomas david alludes to, a bulldog appears to fold his cards with one paw, but simultaneously uses one of his back paws to slip the ace of clubs to a terrier who holds the other three aces. This act leaves the terrier with four of a kind, the third-best hand in poker, and if one of the other dogs had four kings, they would not be able to outrank four aces. The collie on the left side of the painting looks relaxed, but unless he happens to have a straight flush, it’s likely his hopes of a win are going to be dashed by the cheaters. (It is impossible for the collie to have a royal flush if all the aces are in other hands.) The two spaniels on the left appear suspicious of the blue heeler, but the heeler’s gaze suggests he is aware of the actual cheating taking place. The spaniel on the right side of the painting appears entirely focused on his own hand. The conflation of ‘poker’ in the first line of the senryu and ‘dog’ in the second line serves as the allusive linchpin to this particular painting. The second and third lines invoke the adage, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” though in this poem, the opposite is true. The second and third lines can refer to learning to play online poker when one has normally only played in person, and it also can refer to learning tricks in the form of cheating. thomas’ humorous senryu skillfully alludes to the painting, which adds a layer of depth to the poem.

“Guernica”

pale flower
in the sound of bells
bombs on the crowd

pallido fiore
nel suono di campana
bombe sulla folla

Angiola Inglese
Italy

Pablo Picasso’s “Guernica” inspired a number of haiku. This powerful painting depicts the Nazi tactic of bombing the Basque town of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War. The muted blue, black, and white tones combined with Picasso’s Cubist approach depict the ongoing horror. What stands out to me about Angiola Inglese’s allusive haiku is the focus on a small, specific detail of the painting. At the bottom of the work, just barely right of center, there is a flower, so pale that it almost blends into the figures around and behind it. A casual viewer, especially someone looking through the small format of a computer screen, might miss this detail amidst the writhing, tortured expressions of humans and horses. In the second and third lines, Angiola invokes two sounds: first bells (I imagine church bells), and second bombs. Between the loud chime of the bells and the explosions of bombs, sound threatens to overwhelm us on top of the physical harm to bodies and the surrounding environment. In painting the flower, Picasso provided a glimmer of peace and serenity amidst the persistent horror. Angiola’s focus on that in her poem creates a strong sense of a haiku moment, even in response to an 88-year-old painting.

“The Last Supper”

tipping the salt
a shadow of me
betrays him

Joanna Ashwell
United Kingdom

In Leonardo da Vinci’s mural, Jesus Christ and his twelve disciples are observing Passover. The painting captures the specific moment after which Jesus has revealed that one of the apostles will betray him. Judas Iscariot, the eventual betrayer, appears in the left half of the painting; notably, he is the only figure in shadow. When you focus on this detail of the painting, you can also see him tipping over the salt container. In her poem, Joanna has honed in on these two details of the painting in order to allude to the work, and to the larger Biblical story, without naming the painting or any of the depicted figures directly. While there are other details in the painting that also point to Judas’ eventual betrayal, it would not be reasonable to mention all of them in a single haiku. The first line is a direct action that also refers to a Middle Eastern expression, “betray the salt,” which means to betray one’s master. The shadow of the painting can also be extended to the Jungian concept of the shadow self. Although Jung was working more than 400 years after da Vinci finished this painting, the concept still holds as a way of engaging with the work. Judas is at first a sincere believer, and after seeing the consequences of his betrayal, he is so overcome with shame that he hangs himself. Both the bright self and the shadow self exist in a single mind, and the shadow in the painting foreshadows Judas succumbing to his crueler nature. By focusing on these two poignant details, Joanna is able to convey the broader cultural story with precision.

“Olympia”

le chat noir
many layers in the story
of fetters

Sangita Kalarickal
Minnesota, USA

Édouard Manet’s 1863 oil painting shocked nineteenth-century viewers when it was first displayed. There are several details in the painting that identify the female subject as a sex worker, including the title of the work (the name itself was associated with Parisian sex workers), the black cat (invoking French slang for female genitalia), and the placement of the subject’s left hand. The cat, however, is also a symbol of wealth, just the first in a series of complications in this painting. Sangita Kalarickal leads with the French term for “black cat,” this focal point that indicates Olympia’s status as a sex worker as well as someone able to afford a lush life. Although Olympia’s profession in many ways diminished her social status, her jewelry, linens, and the flower in her hair are indicators of wealth – as is the fact that she can afford to be waited on by a Black servant. France had, at that point, a substantial colonial history, and had abolished slavery in 1848, less than 20 years before this painting was created. The servant depicted in this painting was almost certainly from a country subject to French colonial rule. Sangita’s use of ‘fetters’ in the last line points to the varieties of confinement in this painting. Olympia’s profession might cause her to be a social inferior, but it gives her the financial freedom to nonetheless employ a subject of colonialism. Sangita has done an excellent job of not just alluding to the original painting, but to the broader social and historical context surrounding its composition.

“Portrait of a Polish Woman”

dad’s wives…
the pentimentos of
Modigliani

Maya Daneva
The Netherlands

Amedeo Modigliani was an Italian painter who worked in the early 20th century. Like the father mentioned in the first line of Maya Daneva’s poem, he was known, in addition to his work, for his frequent love affairs. The word “pentimento” is an Italian term in which old, painted-over elements of a finished painting become visible beneath the final work. Whether it was a sketch, an error, or the artist decided to go in a different direction, it might have been more prudent to paint over the original. However, echoes of the past work often show through due to time, age, or lighting conditions. By using the term ‘pentimentos’ in her senryu, Maya demonstrates that no matter how we might try to cover over our past mistakes or indiscretions, they cannot be undone, and might be revealed given the right conditions. The reference to ‘dad’ in the first line also tells the reader that past mistakes, such as bad marriages or tumultuous love affairs, don’t just have an effect on the people directly involved; there can be a spillover effect onto children or other innocent parties as well. In her senryu, Maya uses the foibles of a specific painter to demonstrate that in life and in art, our mistakes are always under the surface, and the effects can linger well into the future.

Printwork

“Relativity”

Escher’s stairs
the steps I take
to go nowhere

Kelly Sargent
Williston, VT, USA

This lithograph (originally a woodblock print), is one of M.C. Escher’s most popular pieces. The print portrays a world in which the laws of gravity do not apply, and where identical figures perform mundane activities. We see them climbing stairs, carrying objects, sitting down, eating, and standing around. Although there are some exits to the outdoors and to basements, it’s not immediately obvious how the figures can access them. Ultimately, the stairs seem to trap us; it takes careful observation to realize there is a way out. Kelly Sargent directly invokes the image of the stairs, which conjures up an immediate context for those familiar with the drawing. The second and third lines deepen the image, emphasizing the overall feeling of being trapped in this surreal staircase, even though there are escape routes. These lines also point to a common human foible, our ability to trap ourselves both mentally and physically, unable to move forward in our lives. Some of us take on too many projects and never move forward because our attention is too diffuse. Others spin their wheels, trying ineffective solutions to their problems, often more than once. Still others have a habit of avoidance, and take on productive procrastination (such as cleaning the kitchen instead of taking care of their writing). There are seemingly infinite ways we can keep ourselves trapped on these looping stairs, even though escape routes are available. Kelly’s poem is both an excellent source of allusion and a poignant comment on human foible.

Join us next week for our next prompt…

Bios:

Guest Editor Allyson Whipple is the author of the haiku chapbook Postcards from Texas (Cuttlefish Books), as well as two free-verse chapbooks. She is the founding editor of Haiku Girl Summer and currently serves as the managing editor of Frogpond, and is at work on her reference work The Culinary Saijiki.

Assistant Editor Lafcadio, a former teacher, now works from home writing, editing and proofreading study guides for nursing textbooks. She lives in Tennessee. She has written poetry for a long time but a couple of years ago fell in love with Japanese micropoetry and hasn’t looked back. Lafcadio has been published in a number of journals and anthologies. She writes under the nom de plume of Lafcadio because nom de plume is so fun to say. You can read her poems on Twitter (X) @lafcadiopoetry or BlueSky @lafcadiobsky.

Assistant Editor Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019 and her second chapbook Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022.

Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. She lives in New York City and enjoys reading and writing haiku.

Managing Editor Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She served as Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada for ten years, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019). Find her at: kjmunro1560.wordpress.com.

Portrait by Laurel Parry

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Photo Credit:

Banner photo credit: “Thirty-Six Poetic Immortals”, mid 1700s. Attributed to Tatebayashi Kagei (Japanese, active mid-1700s). The Cleveland Museum of Art, Mr. and Mrs. William H. Marlatt Fund 1960.183.

Haiku Dialogue offers a triweekly prompt for practicing your haiku. Posts appear each Wednesday with a prompt or a selection of poems from a previous week.