re:Virals 461

Welcome to re:Virals, The Haiku Foundation’s weekly commentary feature on some of your favorites among the best contemporary haiku and senryu written in English. This week’s poem, chosen by Nathan Sidney, was:

     
dew under my feet
why do I need to fit
into glass slippers
—Vandana Parashar, 
 Heliosparrow, January 27th 2024

Introducing this poem, Nathan writes:

What could be more delicate than dew or glass slippers, other than the human heart?  Vandana’s ku is crisply textural and a lovely interplay between the shared crystal shine but differing material properties of dew and glass.  I hope someone else might expand on the thread of defiance and frustration in the middle line (or have I missed the tone completely?).  It’s a beautiful image that smuggles in some acid social commentary beyond the situation of the poem’s protagonist.  It’s both an intimate moment and also opens on to a broader political landscape, so a couple of juxtapositions from Vandana, one of content, one of scope.  Very happy to have found it and looking forward to seeing what other commentators make of it.

Opening comment:

I admire Vandana’s work, and enjoyed this haiku that triggered many a thought. Looking at the craft, there’s good toriawase: linkage between clear dew and transparent glass slippers, both fragile, via feet, with contrast between soft/brittle and natural/artificial. Use of the keyword(s) “glass slippers” gives depth and context by invoking the romantic Cinderella fairytale. Posing a question is not, I think, a common device in haiku, but not unknown — it skirts the didactic and it’s a natural way of inviting the reader to participate.

If the question is read as a rhetorical one, we have at the shallow end a sociopolitical feminist protest. At the deep end, if it is read as a genuine question, we have a much broader and more open proposition. I noticed particularly the choice of “do I need to” rather than “do I have to” or “am I required to.” Need means necessity; need can also come from within, as well as from demands without, giving us two different perspectives.

Consequent on the invocation of Cinderella, a biologist could say that this is linked to mating behaviour and the primary drive to procreate.   Things may be changing (or not) from visceral emotion to reason, from hormones to neurons, but our species is still one where, in the majority case, and where they are free to do so, females of reproductive age and inclination set out to attract males to choose for their favours. Males try to attract females by projecting their interest and suitability as a prospective mate, perhaps their prowess in some way. On top of this primary drive to reproduce, however, social humanity has erected a vast, astonishing superstructure of secondary reinforcement, with sex for pleasure rather than procreation, indeed often wanting to avoid procreation, and which absorbs a disproportionate amount of the species’ time and energy. Not least, it embraces a beauty industry that extends to extraordinary distortions: supernormal stimuli such as silicone buns, botoxed lips, icky red lip gloss, heavy cosmetics, high stilettos, and the costly and often (to us ordinary folk) laughable creations of the red carpet and the catwalk.  A detached biologist from some other planet might observe that Earthwomen are at least as engaged in this as men.

And the answer is that for successful procreation there is no need for glass slippers. Indeed, they are likely to get in the way.  Say no to glass slippers if you don’t want them.  Say no to the advertising, the influencers, the glam ‘celebrity’ circuit, Instagram, and Vogue.  Go shoeless, love your freckles, let your hair be wild.  One is free to choose, and embrace the consequences of that choice.  You may not wed a predatory billionaire(ess) but you’ll meet people like you.

Beyond that, the verse also leads us deeper into the long grass of social philosophy, to examine, perhaps, other pressures and  conventions, that restrict our primary, “uncivilised” nature; and whether they are necessary for a community to rub along together.  Barefoot in the dew is one thing,  travelling naked on the train to the office is another. At least, now we’ve left the Garden of Eden.

Richa Sharma:

The haiku is visually appealing and conjures a surreal image in the reader’s mind. There is a good usage of rensō, or association of ideas. The author may be in a more free phase of life, and the poem can be read further for multiple metaphorical and social connotations of “glass slippers.”

Dan Campbell:

Hello, this is reporter Dan Campbell from station WEAZ. Today, we have with us the Disney heroine Cinderella who will share her thoughts on the glass slipper poem by Vandana.

Thank you for joining us today Cinderella. I hear you divorced Prince Charming and threw away your glass slippers many years ago.

Cinderella: Yes, I divorced the royal toad and tossed my glass slippers years ago and I will tell you why. Vandana’s poem expresses my sentiments perfectly. Dew under your feet, why indeed should you confine your soul to the rigid molds of expectation? The morning’s kiss upon the grass offers a freedom far more profound than any fragile glass can grant. Your spirit, unshackled and wild, dances with the dawn, each droplet a testament to the beauty of being unbound. You do not need to fit into glass slippers, for your journey is one of limitless paths, each more wondrous than the last. Embrace the dew, the earth, and the boundless sky, for they are the true slippers that cradle your dreams and aspirations.

John Daleiden:

Vandana Parashar’s haiku, “ dew under my feet,” immediately makes me think of world folklore literature where many language and cultural stories tell a similar tale, that of Cinderella—a rags to riches tale. This allusion to a large collection of literary stories, both oral and written, quickly gives way to other considerations.

Syntactically, this haiku is composed of a fragment, line 1 and an unpunctuated two-lines beginning with “why.” The verse is written in the first person singular using the pronouns “my” (line 1) and “I” (line) 2. The central images, “dew” and “glass slipper” are juxtaposed and suggest a natural simplicity versus a human made, complex product. On first reading this haiku, a reader might conclude that the world of the “glass slipper” is preferred to the world of “dew”. After all, the world that knows how to manufacture a shoe made of “glass” is more sophisticated or important than a world that only knows “dew” as a valuable commodity.

. . . And then suddenly, a second reading emerges. Suppose the voice in the haiku means just the opposite. The natural “dew” is significantly more important or valuable than the man made object, the “glass slipper”, because it is natural, a part of nature. This dual reading is ironic. So, the reader concludes that the meaning of this haiku is steeped in ambiguity. Which reading offers the true concept? The answer is both readings are worthy.

One of the sheer delights in reading haiku is being immersed in the ambiguity of a short three line verse that makes readers consider the worth of the natural world and the worth of the manufactured world. Haiku can take readers on a philosophical road trip.

Lakshman Bulusu:

This haiku beautifully captures the relationship between nature and human nature. The ‘dew’ under the feet of the speaker is as transparent and soft as nature can provide and the speaker is enjoying the moment either walking in a garden or on grass. Though delicate as glass slippers, the dew remains attached to the feet and does not necessitate the urge to wear glass slippers and also fits to the size of the feet. The glass slippers can be as inviting as Cinderella’s slippers but here there is no ask for them. The connection between nature and the speaker’s nature to be fully satisfied by the dew serving as ‘slippers’ is the heart of the haiku. What an awesome experience!

The dew though will melt but will come again in some time or the next day and the speaker can steal another moment to find the experience.

This haiku can also relate to the shine of sunlight under the feet when the dew is rayed with gold and the feet glow meaning a positive experience. Fitting into the glass slippers can give the same light but only the extent of artificial reflection. Choosing the dew instead of glass slippers tells a story of ‘natural is original’ and cannot be replaced. It can also mean the “slippers of dew” are accessible to all irrespective of poor or rich whereas the glass slippers may be available to only some – putting on slippers of dew echoes “poor is rich.”

So marvelously done in a simple manner yet evoking an image larger-than-simple.

Sandip Chauhan:

This haiku by Vandana Parashar offers a refreshing take on self-acceptance and natural beauty. The phrase “dew under my feet” evokes a sense of being grounded in nature, appreciating its simple, unadorned elegance. In contrast, the “glass slippers” allude to the Cinderella fairy tale, symbolizing societal expectations and the pressure to conform. By questioning the need to fit into glass slippers, the poem undermines the idea that we must change ourselves to meet external standards. It suggests that our natural state—represented by bare feet in touch with dew—is already perfect and fulfilling.

Melissa Dennison:

Yet another great haiku with more than one meaning. To begin with as I read these words I was struck by the juxtaposition of the soft feel of dew on grass under my feet, contrasted with the cold hardness of glass. Then of course the lost glass slipper is central to the Cinderella fairy tale. Why then is dew under my feet preferable to a glass slipper? And why as Vandana suggests do we need to fit into glass slippers? These questions have a feminist lens. Cinderella had small, dainty feet. Ladies feet. Not big, galumping masculine feet like the wicked step sisters had. There are societal values then, and prejudicial attitudes towards women expressed in this tale. Cinderella became a princess and lived happily ever after as she conformed to preexisting gender norms. Her step sisters did not. Perhaps that was part of their wickedness.

For me the glass slipper represents confinement, restriction and discomfort. On a lighter note I am a lady who much prefers a flat pump or a trainer. I choose comfort over glamour any day of the week!

Back to the poem, reading this I also see another interpretation, that the poet might be making a point about money and status. Why do we need expensive clothes, in this case footwear? Why do we dream of or need to be a ‘princess’? (Or a prince, not to exclude anyone). We have the beauty of the world around us, our riches are all around us, beneath our feet. We have the dew under our feet. This too can be seen as a form of liberation.

Vandana’s poem for me is a thoughtful and reflective piece. I think it is clever to be asking this question in this way. Thankyou Vandana for writing it.

Amoolya Kamalnath:

The dew under the feet brings joy to the poet. She is free like a bird. She can enjoy nature as much as she wants. She delights in her feet becoming wet with the fresh early morning dew, most probably in her garden, or may be even on a holiday.

The verse suddenly turns terse after the initial joy that it has brought to the reader’s mind. The poet is probably being reprimanded to mend her ways. She is questioning, may be even protesting why she has to conform to a certain social construct, why can’t she live as she wants to? This could be the voice of a young girl or even a married woman.

Glass slippers would denote fragility. They need to be handled with care. A child, more so a girl is usually taught to be demure. Each action of hers is judged and set right in most households preparing her for the difficult life ahead. In the olden days, women were married off very early to a man of her parents’ choice (especially in India). This poem could also be subtly hinting at child marriage prevalent in our society even a few hundred years back.

A person labelled as ‘different’ is always looked down upon by the society at large. They’re not accepted because they don’t “fit in”. The LGBTQ community, the physically handicapped and/or disabled, the mentally ill, the neurodiverse children, even people of different place, race, colour, religion, caste, etc. are compelled to comply. Why?

Joshua Gage—subverting our expectations:

Vandana’s haiku is very striking in that it subverts our expectations for the kigo.

“Dew,” or tsuyu in Japanese, is a traditional autumn kigo. Probably the most famous use of “dew” in haiku is Issa’s “tsuyu no yo wa tsuyu no yo nagara sari nagara,” which uses “dewdrop world” to convey a sense of impermanence and contemplative self-reflection. This tends to be how “tsuyu” is used in haiku, to convey a fleeting impermanence in the corporeal world, echoing various zen aesthetics.

Parashar flips this on its head by relating the dew to the Cinderella story. Indeed, both images are those of impermanence–the dew fading is paralleled by the story in which the glass slippers (insert note that “glass” is a mistranslation, and the slippers were originally “fur,” because “verre” and “vair” sound similar) and all Cinderella’s finery will disappear at midnight. This paralleled impermanence is striking in this poem, and works well.

What elevates this poem beyond the ordinary is the socio-political defiance. Parashar’s speaker is perfectly content to wear the dew, and doesn’t want to be forced into glass slippers. In the original tale, Cinderella’s sisters literally disfigure themselves to fit the shoes by cutting off heels and toes, so the idea of the man-made and the constraining being not prized, but refused, is a clever feminist take on the tale. Parashar’s speaker is defiant against the shoes and what they represent–women being forced into uncomfortable beauty standards, women being forced into relationships they don’t want, women being made into brides–and would rather wear the dew. This woman wants to embrace nature, wants to feel the dew on her feet and revel in that connection with the biological, the bejeweled flora of the world, rather than the created and artificial glass of the slipper. By rejecting the slippers with the question in L2, and the longer question in L2-3, Parashar rejects the patriarchal oppression that would make women wear glass slippers amongst a myriad of restrictive clothing and acceptable actions. By asking a question rather than making a statement, Parashar points out the obvious hypocrisy of the tale, and begins to dismantle–dare we say shatter?–the patriarchy.

There’s so much here that exudes strength and defiance, but the presentation is delicate and subtle–not all bricks need to be made of clay or stone, and when hurled, this brick of words will shatter oppressive systems just as effectively.

Author Vandana Parashar:

Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I go out in the park and walk barefoot on the grass. Initially, some people were amused. But, I didn’t care. All that mattered was the tingle of grass and the coolness of dew under my feet. After a few days, I found others following suit. That made me realize how we are always burdened by societal expectations to fit in a mould, to behave in a certain way so much so that somewhere along the line, we forget about the simple pleasures of life.

I won’t claim that I don’t like the comforts of life. But, is there really a need to succumb to the restrictive notions of predefined roles and pretentious appearances? Are these expectations truly necessary? Wouldn’t it be more liberating and exhilarating if we could just embrace our connection with nature and with ourselves?

Since this poem was published in Heliosparrow, there might be some questions about it not being a classical haiku. If I may, I would call it an unconventional haiku (it has a clear cut after L1 and a deep underlying connection with nature). More and more poets are exploring this aspect of the genre and Heliosparrow provides an excellent home for such poems. I’m eager to know what the readers think, as it is as much their haiku as mine.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. A fine crop — everybody wins — but as the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Joshua has chosen next week’s poem, two of them in tribute to the late Deborah Kolodji, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to either or both. It may be as long or short, academic or spontaneous, serious or silly, public or personal as you like. All with respect for the poet. Out-takes from the best of these take their place in the THF Archives. Best of all, the chosen commentary’s author gets to pick the next poem.

Anyone can participate. Simply use the re:Virals commentary form below to enter your commentary on the new week’s poem (“Your text”) by the following Tuesday midnight, Eastern US Time Zone, and then press Submit to send your entry. The Submit button will not be available until Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in. We look forward to seeing your commentary and finding out about your favourite poems!

Poem for commentary:

     
winter rain
a mother searches
for her daughter
—Deborah P. Kolodji (August 11, 1959 — July 21, 2024)
 Goblin Fruit, Winter, 2007
the last whisper 
from her spacesuit 
lost moon
—Deborah P. Kolodji (August 11, 1959 — July 21, 2024)
 Tug of a Black Hole, Moth Orchid Press, 2021
 SFPA Poetry Contest, 2nd place
Choose either, or both as a pair, to write your commentary.  Contributions will be more manageable, and favoured, if they are succinct.

The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy.

Footnote:

Vandana Parashar is a widely-known and able haiku poet with several awards and publications to her credit. Her short bio may be read in Haikupedia. Lately she has been a guest editor for THF’s Haiku Dialogue; and she offers advice to those starting out to write haiku in our New To Haiku feature, March 2022.
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