re:Virals 470
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 Dan Campbell, was:
marina bait shop the ripple of faces in a dark bucket —Randy Brooks, Wales Haiku Journal, Summer 2024
Introducing this poem, Dan writes:
The ‘ripple of faces” reminded me of one time when I went fishing and I could feel the minnow’s pounding heart in the palm of my hand and it made me realize that minnows want to live just as much as I do. That happened many years ago and I still remember it.
Opening comment:
This detached and graphic haiku struck a chord with me right away. While there is no stated season, there is a distinct suggestion of early to mid summer, when people go fishing for fun rather than for food, and when the shop’s livebait tanks are likely to contain the year’s fry, an attractive bait as larger fish are feeding on them out in the sea or river. At first, the ‘faces’ might be taken as those of the anglers; but then, they may also be taken as those of the little fishes. The ‘ripple’ may be caused by the anxious fish in the customer’s shadow, or by the angler nudging the bucket to see how lively they are. The word ‘dark’ is a bit of a giveaway, strongly suggesting foreboding, and the imminence of death one way or the other.
I was mad on fishing as a boy, first sticklebacks netted from a park pond, and then the wondrous moment when aged nine I caught (and released) the glowing little river perch on a classic bent pin and worm, that via the Freshwater Biological Association eventually led me to University. In my early teens I tried livebait for pike, but never felt at home with spiking or tying little fish to catch bigger ones, though somehow worms or maggots lower down the evolutionary chain were not such a problem for conscience. The instinct to hunt is strong in many, and hard to deny. In Mozambique we had to fish if we wanted fresh fish to cook, extraordinarily enough for a country with a long coastline and a fertile ocean (the Spanish, Soviet, and Chinese fishing fleets had it sewn up with the new socialist government). It was a primal pleasure returning home from a weekend boat trip with kilos of red snapper, grouper, kingfish, and if lucky, yellowfin tuna. Friends and the cat were very pleased. Yet in the reflective mellowness of age, while still a gatherer, I’m no longer a hunter: I haven’t fished for more than twenty years now.
A couple of fish-in-bucket haiku by Issa in the Footnote.
Melissa Dennison:
Oh now this has a dramatic feel, with the suggestion of a dark bucket. It feels quite gothic. Ok, so it also has a sense of humour to me too. Dark comedy, but that is probably just me.
I do my best to be a vegetarian (ok I don’t always succeed) and so reading this does create a sense of dread or foreboding, as the activity here is fishing – killing another organism or being. I never feel easy about this, which some might think a little hypocritical.
The second line also has a disturbing feel as the faces are indistinct and impersonal. Many faces, but who are they? However, I am guessing that Randy is playing with us here in his choice of words, as he is discussing fishing, and of course fish live in the sea/ocean and so using words like waves or ripples makes sense.
But why a dark bucket? Interesting choice. This seems to add to the unsettling quality of this poem. Is Randy commenting on our relationship and attitudes towards the natural world and the creatures we share this planet with? It doesn’t feel like a poem that is saying ‘isn’t fishing great? let’s go kill organisms that live in the sea!’. Finally, back to the ripples, could Randy be saying something here about ourselves? Our nature being reflected back at us? A nature that can be dark at times. Looking into the bucket, what do we see?
This is a thought provoking piece, so much conveyed in just 15 syllables.
John Daleiden:
Randy Brooks’ verse “marina bait shop” contains no kigo word nor written cut-word, a kireji. The poem focuses on human foibles with a dash of cynicism or humor rather than offering an interpretation of nature.
Structurally, the composition is written on three lines containing 5, 6, and 5 syllables, and a line 1 fragment that does not syntactically flow into the next 2-line phrase. Viewed as a whole, the words create a detailed, physical description of what most fishermen would consider as a “marina bait shop,” even though no complete grammatical structure has been established.
Let us see: we have a prospective angler who has come to a bait shop and purchases a black bucket in which the faces of the live bait create ripples . . . and that’s it. Surely, there must be a greater meaning.On closer inspection—a second reading—the angler discerns that there are a number of faces just below the water surface of the black bucket.
“Aha,” sighs the fisher. As he looks closer into the black bucket, a third reading of the situation at hand, he sees the reflection of his own face on the surface as well as the face(s) of the bait just below the surface. He realizes that not only does he not know the faces below the water surface, neither does he recognize his own reflection mingled with the submerged faces because he can not see through the glass darkly—the water surface. Helplessly, he feels drawn into the bucket and nothing but blackness surrounds his entire being.
Gasping for breath, he struggles and surfaces into a world he no longer recognizes. He empties the black bucket into the marina and flees from the horrors he was about to commit as a trawler.
“What have I become? Why do I only see through the glass darkly?”
From afar, a poet watches the diminishing dot of the piscator until it can be seen no more. He puts away his intaligo and sighs, “How inscrutable is man. Perhaps tomorrow, I can capture the true spirit of the universes.”Hopefully, this reading of Brooks’ senryū will bate readers to take many deep looks into a poem that only seems to have a surface meaning.
Harrison Lightwater:
This looks more like a haiku than a senryu. Although there’s no kigo that I see, the context of recreational fishing suggests summer. Anyway I appreciate the view of kigo in the re:Virals footnote a few weeks back, and specially the words “a notebook is all you should need to write haiku, not a manual.” !
This haiku in plain imagistic words succeeds in conveying a sense of troubling disturbance with the choice of “ripple” and “dark” in the interface between the doomed little fish in the bucket and the faces of those inspecting them with the aim putting a large hook through their upper lip for a day’s sport. It succeeds by suggestion, using detached images, and not by the easy way out of an image paired with a sententious overt thought of the writer. It leaves construction of thought to the reader. It avoids judgement.
Congratulations!
Jonathan Epstein—violence inherent in the food chain:
Vivid imagery draws us into the poet’s awakening encounter with a swarm of minnows. Is it their “dark” fate to become lures for larger fish —or will they be set free?
“the ripple of faces” (anchovies? carp minnows?) startles us into realizing our oneness with all beings. Compassion arises knowing the fish will meet a grim end… unless returned to their watery home.
As a setting, “marina bait shop” conveys a strong sense of place (utamakura). I see an ocean locale — hear screeching gulls and crashing waves, take in the sight and smell of fish guts, the comings and goings of small boats — though a ‘tamer’ freshwater setting is possible. Either way, the bait shop is chockablock with fishing gear, a tank of live bait, worms-to-go, beer and alcohol.
The modest number of fish, scooped from the tank for a customer, is likely destined for a small boat outing or a morning of pier fishing. The bucket is half full of water to avoid spills. The water ripples from the constant schooling motion of the closely confined fish. Soon deft hands will slide a fishing hook through their gills and drop them over the side of a boat or a pier…
OR — alternate scenario —the one making eye contact with the fish has a rescue plan. Is a group of people waiting nearby to pray for and release the hapless creatures?
A poem rich in sensuous imagery and drama. It awakens feelings for ‘the other,’ our distant relations, and juxtaposes human predation with the violence inherent in nature’s food chain.
Author Randy Brooks:
This haiku harkens back to my childhood. I loved bait shops and fishing stores, filled with colorful fishing paraphernalia. The fishing poles, lures and fishing flies fascinated me. But the live bait was always the most intriguing. I remember opening the lid of the bait fish buckets and trying to see the small fish inside. More often than not, what I would see is the reflection of my face and my brother’s face trying to get a good look at the little fellas. I would see a glimpse of fin or flash of silver in the water and think “you’re all doomed!” As for fishing itself, I’ve always been more of a sous-chef than fisherman. I enjoy baiting hooks and taking fish off hooks for my grandkids. And I enjoy letting the fish go, hopefully unharmed. I don’t mind tying tackle but am not very interested in actually dropping a line in the water to catch one for myself. I hope this haiku captures the liveliness of the bait fish and the mystery of seeing ourselves in their dark water.
Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the beautifully-written, thoughtful commentary reckoned best this week, Jonathan Epstein has chosen next week’s poem, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to it. 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:
all our wars lost blossom wind — Eva Limbach, Failed Haiku Vol 1, Issue 5 May 1, 2016
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Footnote:
Randy Brooks is an American educator, haiku poet, scholar, editor, and publisher. With a Ph.D. in rhetoric and technical writing from Purdue University, Brooks served as professor of English and dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at Millikin University, Decatur, Ill., teaching courses on professional writing, editing, book publishing, and haiku in English. In 1976 with his wife, Shirley Brooks, he started publishing High/Coo: A Quarterly of Short Verse. The two currently are publishers of Brooks Books and co-editors of Mayfly haiku magazine. In 2021, Brooks Books published clothbound editions of the selected haiku of John Stevenson and of Bill Pauly, both of which were honored in THF Touchstone Book Awards and HSA Merit Book Awards. Randy’s recent books include Walking the Fence: Selected Tanka of Randy Brooks (2019) and The Art of Reading and Writing Haiku: A Reader Response Approach (2019). This year Brooks Books published clothbound collections of selected haiku by Alexis Rotella and Francine Banwarth.
See the Brooks Books web site at: https://www.brooksbookshaiku.com/
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Generally, when fish are first put in a bucket they dash around worried, then settle down quietly. Unless the bucket is tapped, when their lateral line picks up the vibration that triggers alarm. Randy’s haiku reminded me of two by Issa (with statements in them…):
.魚どもは桶としらでや夕涼
uo domo wa oke to shirade ya yûsuzumithe fish
unaware of the bucket…
a cool evening
Issa 1815 tr. Lanoue.翌しらぬ盥の魚や夕涼
asu shiranu tarai no uo ya yûsuzumithe fish in the tub
won’t know tomorrow…
evening cool
Issa 1815 tr. LanoueIssa’s Buddhism suggests that the fish get on with things in the moment without any knowledge of what comes after (and by implication, that we should learn from them…). This is also found in the Daoist Zhuangzhi. A theme in many of his verses, some bright and humorous, some with foreboding, and one of them, my favourite haiku of his, I’ll leave for another occasion.
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Received after the deadline from Lakshman Bulusu:
This haiku juxtaposes the image of bait being prepared in a bait shop in a marina. The ripple of faces in a dark bucket denotes funding meaning in a troubled world (aka dark bucket). Metaphorically, the imagery related to water, waves, and the world of marina bait shop convey a message about finding peace, solace, and guidance within the cyclical patterns of the universe. While the bait is generally a way to capture fish, the overall meaning seems to be about embracing the ebb and flow of life and trusting in the wisdom inherent in the natural order of things. This haiku also in a way reflects the food chain where fish is consumed by humans.
Received after the deadline from Pamela Garry:
Peering in to see what’s in the bucket, what’s happening with the bait, one might see one’s own face reflected, and broken apart by ripples, and entangled with life of bait below the water’s surface. Like a cubist painting with many perspectives broken up and reassembled. But in the case of the bait bucket, the experience is kinetic. Does ‘the ripple of faces in a dark bucket’ enhance the person’s empathy for the minnow or the worm? Does the bait have empathy with the one peering in?
