shadow’s head
November 23, 2012 Leave a comment
Since I have lost my voice in the last few months, I thought I would reconnect with a short piece I found in Roadrunner 12.2. Mike Wallace praises a haiku written by George Swede. Here is Swede’s haiku and then Wallace’s commentary. They are both very good.
shadow’s head
on the other side of the chasm
a bank statement
“This poem captures the postmodern recognition that contemporary landscapes include not just physical materials but also conceptual ones like money, and that the conceptual ones often have more control of people than physical materials do. Also, the image of the bank statement, and the metaphorical implications of the chasm which suggests a crossing from one condition to another (though neither can be seen clearly), capture both the real yet also abstract current crisis of the United States, and much of the world: the recent series of global financial collapses. The opening line, whose use of shadow seems at first relatively conventional, has come by the end to take on a more sinister depth, as it’s not a head in shadow (as say on a dollar bill) but the head of a shadow, of a danger, whose complete form we don’t yet see. The poem understands that abstraction and image can no longer be considered clear opposites, and it defines, simply and memorably, a problem which has destroyed people’s lives and from which the world may take a long time to recover.”
December 10, 2012 3 Comments
I was fortunate to have one of my commentaries in the latest issue of A Hundred Gourds. It is below.
Alexis Rotella’s ‘canoe through water lilies’
by Jim Sullivan
canoe through water lilies
his eyes measuring
her waist
On the surface we have a man and a woman in a canoe. The strongest paddler, often the man, is in the back of the canoe. They are navigating through water lilies on a lake. The man in the back is also thinking about (measuring) the woman’s waist. Men do this; it is what happens every day. If the above reflected the sum total of this haiku, it would be a rather one-dimensional poem.
The words of the haiku also tell another story. Go back to the water lilies. These are strong plants growing in a lake with a delicate flower in the center. The canoe needs to navigate through the water lilies without damaging them. This is not a headlong, all-out, row as hard as you can. It is measured movement through the gaps with respect for the plants and flowers. The paddler is measuring the distance between water lilies, the width of the canoe, and his companion. He might be measuring her as a future partner, as a spouse, as a potential mother of his children, or as a wife of many years who has (as he has) added a few inches.
Whose point of view is this? Is it the woman worrying that the man in the back of the canoe is “measuring” her as well or is it the man taking a measure of the water lilies and his companion in front? I believe it could be either way. In its best interpretation, the paddler in the back is measuring the woman in front, taking note to tread carefully through her space, and treating her with respect. Do not crush the flower in the water lily!
What I do know is that if one re-wrote the haiku as a prose sentence and began a novel with that sentence, it could lead to many different stories.
-Rotella, Alexis K. On a White Bud . Westfield, NJ: Merging Media, 1983.
Filed under commentary, haiku Tagged with Alexis Rotella, canoe, commentary, haiku, Jim Sullivan, water lilies