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One
of Bashô’s most interesting contributions to
haiku theory was the concept of nioi. The word translates
to “fragrance” or “scent,” and Bashô
used the term to refer to the process by which one image
seems to transfer its “scent” or general spirit
to another, much as the perfume of a flower can brighten
the objects surrounding it. The key to understanding nioi
(if “understanding” is the proper word) is to
realize that the two images have no rational connection,
yet some mysterious link seems to join them when they meet
in the poem.
The
idea of nioi was much in my mind as I read Burnell
Lippy’s debut chapbook, Late Geese Up a Dry Fork.
Over and over again these haiku seemed to create connections
between the images that lay just beyond my ability to explain
them:
squash
vines
long and hollow
the last late evenings |
summer
dawn
coolness
of the egg’s taper |
What
connection is there between hollow squash vines and the
evening, or the summer dawn and an egg’s taper? Somehow
these haiku seemed to make a convincing case that there
is something behind the juxtaposition, as the dark recesses
of the squash vines suggest something of the darkness of
evening, or the summer dawn and white eggshell both suggest
a pale color and coolness. It takes talent to join disparate
images with the right amount of flair and surprise, and
poets who wish to study nioi will find themselves moved
and challenged by a great many haiku in this collection.
Unfortunately,
the haiku rely too much on a single effect, and this monotony
hurts the book as a whole. Nioi is by definition an irrational
connection between two images, and in a book it can lead
to a feeling of diffusion and pointlessness. I left Late
Geese Up a Dry Fork having experienced a series of poignant
moments, but I missed the feeling of exploration and completeness
that a focused book of haiku should bring. Robert Frost
once wrote that poetry provides “a momentary stay against
confusion” and a “clarification” of life,
however small.
Regrettably,
I finished Lippy’s chapbook as confused and uninformed
as I had entered it.
For those who treasure the irrational, Zen elements of haiku,
this collection has much to offer, and haiku poets of any
level can learn from its brilliant use of nioi and the interesting
turns of phrase that enliven nearly every poem, but few
readers, I imagine, will feel that the book as a whole was
as planned and effective as the individual poems within
it.
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