about the haiku novel
There are two ways to write a "haiku novel." You can string together a series of haiku that tell a story, as Lenard D. Moore does in his little book, Desert Storm. Or, following the lead of Jack Kerouac, you can mingle haiku and prose so that your one-breath poems reflect on, crystallize and punctuate the action—as Jack does in the first part of Desolation Angels. This second way blends old and new, East and West: Japanese haibun (the diary-like, haiku-peppered prose favored by Bashô and Issa) and the novel. Haiku Guy, Laughing Buddha, and Haiku Wars are my first three haiku novels in this second sense of the term.
Like the haibun of Old Japan, the haiku novel is artlessly artful: not polished or contrived, not taking itself too seriously. It's natural, spontaneous, and fun—a mélange of humor, philosophy, action, reflection, and, of course, haiku.
The haiku novel requires of its readers two ways of reading, two minds. The Western mind flows forward, following the linear progression of prose, of story. But every now and then a haiku appears on the page like a boulder in a stream, and the Eastern mind kicks in, slows down, meditates ... appreciates.
chewing their gum
in rhythm
old couple
See what I mean? Did you slow down, switch minds?
In my own haiku novels I include the historical Issa ("Cup-of-Tea") as a character, along with a fictitious crew of disciples: Mido, the Poet in Green; Kuro, the Poet in Black; Shiro, the Poet in White; and Buck-Teeth, who wears no particular color. I let each story tell itself, sprinkling in haiku here and there, and hope for the best.
Since writers write the kind of books they would like to read, I'd love to see more haiku novels published. So if you're a story-teller with one foot in the world of haiku, why not give it a try? Let's start a literary movement!
Also by David G. Lanoue...Kobayashi Issa Archive