Antonio Sacco

Manuale di scrittura haikai.

Vademecum pratico per comporre poesie haiku e altre forme poetiche di origine giapponese.

Ed. Nuovo Ateneo, Piazza Armerina, 2024

Reading notes

The author, right from the title and punctually in the text, keeps his promise to tell us how to compose (mainly, but not only) a haiku, the peculiar Japanese poetic and metrical form, which established itself “around the middle of the 17th century” (Intr., p. 16) and became famous in our country too. It is therefore a practical guide to a singular type of poetry, which, in its twelve slender but dense chapters, traces its identity, showing “its true strength, beauty and power” (Pref. p. 12): in particular, the book focuses on haiku in chapters 1-7, but also on “other Japanese poetic forms” (p. 12), four in particular: the tanka, the senryū, the haibun, the haiga.

All this relates to composing haiku in Italian, of course. The titles of the chapters themselves, which I mention here, deal with both “formal aspects” (c. 1: connected, in my opinion, to chapters 3 and 4 on compositional techniques) and “content aspects” (c. 2: which somehow connects to c. 6 – “The concept of the spirit of haiku poetics”).

Like any good vademecum – and this really does seem to me to be one – the book also offers continuous practical advice for haiku neophytes, with indications and analyses to which are especially dedicated the whole of chapters 7 but also chapters 9, 10 (“Practical advice”) and 11; c. 5 is even entitled “How not to compose a haiku poem”; exercises are proposed in every chapter and solutions are offered at the end.

So there are parts that deal with the content, the spirit of haiku, the “mechanisms of poetic inspiration” (a rather singular title, indeed: when one reads “mechanisms” one thinks of expedients of form and technique and not so much of facts of inspiration), and (c. 9) the “identikit of the haiku poet” namely the haikijin; and parts that expound formal aspects and techniques of haiku. On the whole, it all seems rather careful and thoughtful, it is a systematically expounded knowledge, leaving nothing to chance.

As regards the formal aspects that every haiku must present, I mention the absence of a title, the famous metrical scheme (5/7/5 syllables in three lines, cf. p. 21, an exposition that includes very precise and interesting notes), the absence of rhyme, and possibly the detachment. I will only dwell on the metrical scheme, i.e. on the fact that “possessing a precise metre” (p. 22) with reference to the number of syllables is the condicio sine qua non of haiku. But the dedicated pages are also suitable for any poem that intends to obey metre: including the basic distinction between orthographic and metric counting of syllables in a line and, for metrics, the importance of synalephe (cf. pp. 22 ff.). In short, the fact that poetry has its own discipline is recalled here, and I mention only one point, to offer an idea of the author’s extreme attention to detail, which does not take for granted things that should be but may not be:

To understand whether a word is slang or flat, I recommend, at least in the beginning, the use of a good vocabulary, but I don’t recommend online syllabi because they are often misleading or inaccurate (p. 29).

Indeed, look at the difference between a good Italian dictionary and the same online examples, e.g. with regard to the words “mio” or “suo”: you may be surprised, as with many rules of language that are there but that we may not remember.

There is an aspect here that goes beyond the intentions of the book itself and concerns any discourse on poetry.

When moving on to talk about the content of haiku, to be respected with few exceptions, the author calls into question the topos of the seasonal reference, called the season word (p. 39), which, however, “assumes the task... of conveying the sensations and feelings of the haiku itself through the naturalistic datum” (ibid.); among other characters, I then mention what Sacco calls the reduction of the lyric self: “the presence of the haijin is there, but it moves in the background... with the cancellation of the barrier that separates the haijin from the thing observed” (p. 49). Certainly this concerns haiku, but I ask: can it not also concern poetry in general, I mean at least a certain type of poetry and not every possible and even known type? Sacco answers that some aspects – in the case, “poetry comes from making poetry and reading poetry” – apply “also to Western free verse poets” (p. 101). And he says which: e.g. love of nature, sincerity, non-judgmental attitude (cf. pp. 101 ff.).

Another present discourse, but which may go beyond this book: precisely the chapters on techniques and content. The point is that it is sometimes frankly difficult to distinguish one from the other: e.g. in section 3 on composition techniques we read that, in haiku, the presence of two opposing but related images (and never more than two: cf. p. 51) is generally prescribed, with some exceptions. This is a haiku technique and relates to the form of the composition, but it is also a factor in the content. The same is true when it comes to the semantic structure of haiku poetry (p. 57), of the distinction between the syntagmatic axis and the paradigmatic axis of a composition (pp. 57-63): here the correlation between the form and the content in the poem seems evident. “The paradigmatic axis refers to the linguistic and semantic choices made by the author” who “selects words, images, and concepts in order to create, within a poem, a coherent set of meanings” (pp. 57 ff.); the syntagmatic axis, on the other hand, “refers to the grammatical structure and linear order of words within a ku (i.e. verse or line, ed.) ... organised and combined to form a precise meaning. For example, the expression «a big cherry tree blossoms» has a precise syntagmatic axis” (pp. 58-9). If, on the other hand, one were to write “a big cherry tree blooms”, reversing the order of two words, “a different syntagmatic axis would be created and, mind you, the sentence would take on a different meaning” (p. 59).

Moreover, “Sometimes, in certain haiku poems, I notice a bizarre use of the order in which words are arranged... This means an unnatural, artificial and forced syntagmatic axis. This does not suit haiku poetics, which thrives on essentiality and simplicity even in the arrangement of words...” (ibid.).

While, speaking of haiku in particular, the author himself invites us to consider that “a free verse poet, as well as an Italian haijin” are required to possess such notions in their “baggage of literary knowledge” (p. 57): the discourse may concern poetry-making in general.

So, seems obvious to me the answer to the question of whether this work on making poetry is only meant for that kind of poetry or whether it cannot apply to poetry in general. It would be, in some important details, haiku poetics, but also, to a large extent, a reflection on the making of poetry in general – one might add that each poet makes his own, of course, but there are rules for certain types of poetry and perhaps to some extent one could also find something in common.

This, which in the beginning is the author’s opinion, it is also mine, at least as far as I will say.

Meanwhile, “One does not improvise oneself as a poet” (Intr., p. 18) can apply to any genre of poetry, although specific skills are also needed for haiku: as is needed for the sonnet, for example.

In poetry, it is possible to talk about form and content, I’m just saying that for the sake of clarity, since this is a widely discussed and criticised conceptuality and a kind of antithesis that is so used that it is now worn out. But is it also definitively outdated? Sacco, perhaps, without wanting to do just this, re-proposes it, and he does well, because here one could also see clearly and squarely what the difference is, or at least a difference (and who doesn’t suppose he knows it?) and, if possible, the relationship. Here: at the beginning of c. 6 on “The concept of the spirit in haiku poetry” I read

There are many writings in metre of 5/7/5 syllables that, while presenting some of

the basic characteristics of a haiku, cannot equally be considered true orthodox

haiku poems because they lack a “quid” in them, the 'spirit' of haiku poetry, precisely... understanding the poetic sensibilità typical of haiku....(it is, ed.) a path that requires

time and constant refinement of sensitivity (pp. 69-70).

There follows a paragraph indicating some “typical aesthetic concepts” of this poem. Form or content? They are closely related, but it is said here that it is not a question of form alone. There is certainly content in poetry,

Although the form of the poem is respected, when I consider the meanings, images and intentions of the poem, there may be something missing that should be. The observance of formal rules is by no means sufficient. “Certain contents”, says in the work’s preface Valentina Meloni, who is an authority in the field of haiku, “are universal” such as “human essence, passions, moods” and can be expressed “regardless of the culture of origin” (Pref., p. 11). A position that contrasts with another, which would have the contents be relative to one’s own time and culture of origin. This may also be the case, as long as one does not engage in sociology of poetry.

Components of the content are “sensitivity, discipline and a deep connection with human nature” (Pref. pp. 8-9) and to this, among other things, conciseness, balance and simplicity contribute (cf. ibid.). Everyone sees that conciseness, balance and simplicity also have to do with form and not only with content.

Although essential and written with simplicity, the book has its own completeness and complexity that I will not go into, recommending its careful reading to those interested.

However, I intended to give this slant to my note, not only to account for the accuracy in the specific subject matter of this text but also how valuable it can be in general.

This is a linear book, but not only for simple souls.

Given the discussions on the form-content relationship that are going on in Campania as elsewhere (e.g. Lucrezi and Cucchi himself, I see, just in these days, on the respective poetry pages of “la Repubblica”; then others too, obviously each in very different ways) and the persistence of theses that would like form, understood as musicality, perfection and therefore expertise in composing, to ultimately be poetry itself – or, moreover, the various ways of understanding experimentation – here we indicate at least one possible balance in the difficult question. I believe that the position implied here is a particular version of the relationship between form and content in poetry, which in any case emphasises how the two components, distinct from each other, are connected in many respects and in a certain way also indistinguishable.

Paraphrasing Kant, one could say that, if it is necessary to distinguish, in poetry form without content is empty, content without form is blind.