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Basho and His Interpreters: Selected Hokku with Commentary
This book has a dual purpose. The first is to present in a new English translation 255 representative hokku (or haiku) poems of Matsuo Basho (1644-94), the Japanese poet who is generally considered the most influential figure in the history of the genre. The second is to make available in English a wide spectrum of Japanese critical commentary on the poems over the last three hundred years.
468 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1991
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About the author
Matsuo Bashō
273 books570 followersKnown Japanese poet Matsuo Basho composed haiku, infused with the spirit of Zen.
The renowned Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉) during his lifetime of the period of Edo worked in the collaborative haikai no renga form; people today recognize this most famous brief and clear master.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matsuo_...
The renowned Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉) during his lifetime of the period of Edo worked in the collaborative haikai no renga form; people today recognize this most famous brief and clear master.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matsuo_...
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
September 6, 2024
This book would already be near-perfect even if it only contained Ueda's translations of (and commentary on) Basho's best couple hundred haiku, insofar as Ueda is the best English-language translator of post-medieval Japanese poetry, but the additional historical literary criticism of Basho is almost too good to be true:
The poet is merely playing with words to amuse himself.
From this hokku I cannot visualize Basho embracing the cedar tree.
Basho boldly stole sentiments from other poets’ work, and yet his poems are better than theirs. This is because he was an incomparably superior poet. Mediocre poets do not even know how to imitate or steal from others.
For Basho’s sake, this kind of poem might best be forgotten.
This poem is of a type that is not to my taste. Perhaps I still lack the maturity to appreciate its underlying nature of fukyo. For the time being, however, my inability to appreciate it does not bother me.
Coal has a very bad smell. The poet commanded the plum blossoms to overpower it.
The poet’s virtuosity here is almost intimidating.
Basho made the comment to Kyorai probably because he felt that there was no sense in mourning spring’s end in Tanba, where people were like monkeys and did not understand furyu. They would not lament spring’s passing, anyway.
I can visualize the poet admiring the moon. Yet I feel as if the poem were made to order. Though I think it is skillfully made, it does not stir my emotions with irresistible force.
Because of the wording in its first two phrases, we cannot help feeling there is some kind of allegorical meaning in this hokku. But, with what we have, we cannot determine exactly what this meaning is. That is all right; as long as we sense this is an allegorical poem, it is enough.
Product of a townsman’s life and written in a lighthearted tone, the poem nevertheless has something in it that makes everyone nod in agreement.
The poem makes me want to get up early in the morning.
June 17, 2022
These 255 poems are roughly a quarter of the haiku Bashō's known to have written and provide a good representation of his work with its mix of historical references, observations of the natural world, and domestic concerns, all of which can be read through the lens of Zen Buddhism if you're into that sort of thing. The poems are arranged chronologically and grouped by year and each section begins with a brief description of where Bashō was during that time and what was going on in his life and work.
Each haiku has an English translation by Ueda, set into three lines, then the transliterated Japanese with a word-by-word literal translation, and often a note if further information is necessary to understand the context of the poem. Ueda's translations are faithful to the originals without being stiff and have an easy, transparent feel to them. There's no added drama or unnecessary flourishes. Though if it's drama you want, there's plenty coming from the peanut gallery.
The bulk of every page is dedicated to commentary—selected and translated by Ueda—from scholars and critics, some in obvious conversation with each other, including contemporaries of Bashō and even Bashō himself. Each brings their different perspectives, petty nitpicking, and feral theories to the table, often in direct contradiction to one another. It gets wild in here, friends. Four of them will be all, "A wonderful poem about a mountain"; the fifth guy hates it, and the sixth guy is like, "This is a poem about the moon." The range of reactions Bashō poetry inspires is fascinating, and the commentary, no matter how unhinged or unsupported by the source, gave me a chance to look at the poems in a different way and sometimes even changed how I read a haiku. It also reinforced my belief that whatever you get out of a haiku is valid. Just like the Japanese it's written in, so much of haiku is implied rather than stated outright. So if you see the moon in a poem that never breathes a word about the moon, that just means you're keying in to something personal to you, and that's what makes haiku so wonderful. The reader brings half of the poem with them.
Ueda's opening introduction is thoughtful and the back matter luxuriously thorough, with a glossary of terms, biographies of all the contributors, an index for which poems include their commentary, and then two indexes for the poems, one with the first line in Japanese (romaji) and one in English, and finally an index of people referenced in the book.
The only thing that would have improved this for me was if it had included the original Japanese, and if it wasn't out of print. But I got a lovely used copy from Atlantic Bookshop through AbeBooks.
A fantastic volume that provides additional insight into Bashō's poetry and its reception. Highly recommended for haiku nerds.
Each haiku has an English translation by Ueda, set into three lines, then the transliterated Japanese with a word-by-word literal translation, and often a note if further information is necessary to understand the context of the poem. Ueda's translations are faithful to the originals without being stiff and have an easy, transparent feel to them. There's no added drama or unnecessary flourishes. Though if it's drama you want, there's plenty coming from the peanut gallery.
The bulk of every page is dedicated to commentary—selected and translated by Ueda—from scholars and critics, some in obvious conversation with each other, including contemporaries of Bashō and even Bashō himself. Each brings their different perspectives, petty nitpicking, and feral theories to the table, often in direct contradiction to one another. It gets wild in here, friends. Four of them will be all, "A wonderful poem about a mountain"; the fifth guy hates it, and the sixth guy is like, "This is a poem about the moon." The range of reactions Bashō poetry inspires is fascinating, and the commentary, no matter how unhinged or unsupported by the source, gave me a chance to look at the poems in a different way and sometimes even changed how I read a haiku. It also reinforced my belief that whatever you get out of a haiku is valid. Just like the Japanese it's written in, so much of haiku is implied rather than stated outright. So if you see the moon in a poem that never breathes a word about the moon, that just means you're keying in to something personal to you, and that's what makes haiku so wonderful. The reader brings half of the poem with them.
Ueda's opening introduction is thoughtful and the back matter luxuriously thorough, with a glossary of terms, biographies of all the contributors, an index for which poems include their commentary, and then two indexes for the poems, one with the first line in Japanese (romaji) and one in English, and finally an index of people referenced in the book.
The only thing that would have improved this for me was if it had included the original Japanese, and if it wasn't out of print. But I got a lovely used copy from Atlantic Bookshop through AbeBooks.
A fantastic volume that provides additional insight into Bashō's poetry and its reception. Highly recommended for haiku nerds.
August 20, 2007
If you have to read one book on haiku all year, this is the one to read. In depth 'discussion' between commentators of Basho's haikus throughout the ages. Top notch book. I've read this one several times, and I plan on going back and rereading it again and again. Every time through, I gain additional insight on Basho's haikus.
For those of you who aren't familiar with Basho, he singlehandedly made haiku a respectable art. He was a master craftsman and to this day is the greatest haiku master of all times.
For those of you who aren't familiar with Basho, he singlehandedly made haiku a respectable art. He was a master craftsman and to this day is the greatest haiku master of all times.
July 2, 2020
In addition to English translations of Basho's poems, the book includes the romaji of the original versions - not the kanji or kana, unfortunately, but for Japanese speakers the romaji is sufficient, and additional word-for-word translations allow non-Japanese speakers to glean some of the original flavor as well. The glossary, commentator bios, episodic summaries of Basho's life, and sparing but helpful context notes add a lot of value to this incredible collection.
December 30, 2020
What is it: collected hokku of Matsuo Basho, presented chronologically, with some biographical detail, and with collected commentaries from a range of historical and contemporary poets and critics.
Why I love it: I knew nothing about Basho before reading this, and almost nothing about haiku (or hokku, at the time period and in the format that Basho was writing). That's a tragic oversight of my education and my own reading history, so I'm glad to begin correcting it here.
Basho's poetry is frequently beautiful, and often most beautiful precisely in its most mundane. There are certainly hokku in this collection that rely on allusion to Chinese poetry (which I'm not familiar with) or that draw on symbols particular to Basho's traditions (again, not familiar to me). But the majority of these poems are remarkably accessible. They provide access not only to the world around Basho (early Edo period Japan) but to Basho. Like watching a film shows you what the filmmaker sees (literally, where their eyes go in a scene), reading Basho's hokku reveals a lot about what Basho payed attention to, the things that mattered to him, stuck in his memory, recurred again and again in his life. Features of his home, his friends, the commonalities of the places he saw in his extensive travels. All of these ultimately point back to Basho's gaze. And Basho's perspective is one of keen observation, a keener wit, and a perfect blend of bitter cynicism and delight in the world around him.
Most poignant of all, though, are the poems Basho penned late in his life. He grapples more and more with the tension between a traditional Buddhism that would urge him to refuse the world versus his love of poetry that connected him all the more intimately to the world. That tension yields some of his best poems, poems which can be read as both an image of the world he sees and a desire to look past that world, past images, past verse.
Basho's poetry alone would be worth reading, but this particular collection only adds to the experience. It presents the translated hokku along with the original Japanese with notes that make clear the relationship between the translation and the original structure. And, far more impactful, Ueda presents each of Basho's hokku with comments about that hokku from other poets or critics contemporary to Basho as well as poets and critics ranging the centuries since Basho. Sometimes these commentaries are essential for someone like me, bringing to light allusions and symbols I'd never recognize. Sometimes these commentaries are exciting, like the best of literary criticism, each commentator surfacing a new insight that drives a discussion across centuries and unpacks more and more depth from a simple set of lines. But most often these commentaries are just glimpses of how people read hokku, how often those readings conflict (Ueda cheekily pairs commentators who directly disagree with one another on multiple occasions), how often those readings reflect biases of the reader (yes, I know that implicates me along with the commentators in the text), and how often those readings come back again and again to trying to understand not just what a particular poem means but, rather, who Basho was.
You might also like: There seems to my inexpert eye to be a line of aesthetic tradition running from the poetry of Basho to the films of Yasujirō Ozu (I'm specifically thinking of Late Spring or even Tokyo Story). Both are caught in the tension of Buddhism's rejection of the world and their own love for the world rejected. And both are striving to create art that does not resolve that tension but, rather, immerses the audience in that tension.
Why I love it: I knew nothing about Basho before reading this, and almost nothing about haiku (or hokku, at the time period and in the format that Basho was writing). That's a tragic oversight of my education and my own reading history, so I'm glad to begin correcting it here.
Basho's poetry is frequently beautiful, and often most beautiful precisely in its most mundane. There are certainly hokku in this collection that rely on allusion to Chinese poetry (which I'm not familiar with) or that draw on symbols particular to Basho's traditions (again, not familiar to me). But the majority of these poems are remarkably accessible. They provide access not only to the world around Basho (early Edo period Japan) but to Basho. Like watching a film shows you what the filmmaker sees (literally, where their eyes go in a scene), reading Basho's hokku reveals a lot about what Basho payed attention to, the things that mattered to him, stuck in his memory, recurred again and again in his life. Features of his home, his friends, the commonalities of the places he saw in his extensive travels. All of these ultimately point back to Basho's gaze. And Basho's perspective is one of keen observation, a keener wit, and a perfect blend of bitter cynicism and delight in the world around him.
Most poignant of all, though, are the poems Basho penned late in his life. He grapples more and more with the tension between a traditional Buddhism that would urge him to refuse the world versus his love of poetry that connected him all the more intimately to the world. That tension yields some of his best poems, poems which can be read as both an image of the world he sees and a desire to look past that world, past images, past verse.
Basho's poetry alone would be worth reading, but this particular collection only adds to the experience. It presents the translated hokku along with the original Japanese with notes that make clear the relationship between the translation and the original structure. And, far more impactful, Ueda presents each of Basho's hokku with comments about that hokku from other poets or critics contemporary to Basho as well as poets and critics ranging the centuries since Basho. Sometimes these commentaries are essential for someone like me, bringing to light allusions and symbols I'd never recognize. Sometimes these commentaries are exciting, like the best of literary criticism, each commentator surfacing a new insight that drives a discussion across centuries and unpacks more and more depth from a simple set of lines. But most often these commentaries are just glimpses of how people read hokku, how often those readings conflict (Ueda cheekily pairs commentators who directly disagree with one another on multiple occasions), how often those readings reflect biases of the reader (yes, I know that implicates me along with the commentators in the text), and how often those readings come back again and again to trying to understand not just what a particular poem means but, rather, who Basho was.
You might also like: There seems to my inexpert eye to be a line of aesthetic tradition running from the poetry of Basho to the films of Yasujirō Ozu (I'm specifically thinking of Late Spring or even Tokyo Story). Both are caught in the tension of Buddhism's rejection of the world and their own love for the world rejected. And both are striving to create art that does not resolve that tension but, rather, immerses the audience in that tension.
June 19, 2015
Ueda provides English readers with both an excellent introduction to Basho and an opportunity for an ongoing conversation with this most Japanese of poets. Each poem in this extensive collection includes an English translation, a romanized version of the Japanese, a word-for-word literal translation and a selection of comments by prominent Japanese writers and critics across the centuries. There is also a brief introduction to Basho and Japanese poetry at the beginning of the book. This wealth of information enables the reader to appreciate the subtlety of Basho's writing, the diversity of views the poems inspire and the difficulty of translating Basho's work into English.
There are at least three significant challenges when translating Basho.
First, most of his poems – and all of his best – are subtle and ambiguous. A review of the comments Ueda has included with each poem illustrates this very clearly. How is a translator to preserve such ambiguity?
Second, the hokku form is extremely compact. The Japanese language facilitates this brevity. In English it is a much greater challenge. Lengthening the poems in translation risks draining them of their energy and impact.
Third, the word-order / image-order is important to the effectiveness of the poems. The differences between the Japanese and English languages can make preserving this order almost impossible.
Overall, a translator risks depriving Basho's poetry of its energy, ambiguity and subtlety in order to provide a coherent English version. With very few exceptions, Ueda avoids these pitfalls. And, if by chance you consider one of Ueda's translation flat, the material is there for you to try your own.
A very fine book.
There are at least three significant challenges when translating Basho.
First, most of his poems – and all of his best – are subtle and ambiguous. A review of the comments Ueda has included with each poem illustrates this very clearly. How is a translator to preserve such ambiguity?
Second, the hokku form is extremely compact. The Japanese language facilitates this brevity. In English it is a much greater challenge. Lengthening the poems in translation risks draining them of their energy and impact.
Third, the word-order / image-order is important to the effectiveness of the poems. The differences between the Japanese and English languages can make preserving this order almost impossible.
Overall, a translator risks depriving Basho's poetry of its energy, ambiguity and subtlety in order to provide a coherent English version. With very few exceptions, Ueda avoids these pitfalls. And, if by chance you consider one of Ueda's translation flat, the material is there for you to try your own.
A very fine book.
February 26, 2016
One of the best books on Basho's haiku. Basho's haiku are not the simple Zen-like nature poems that they are often made out to be, reading them in translation without any commentary is in fact impossible, for you will miss what they are really about (such as praise of the host at the start of a haiku gathering). Makoto Ueda provides a wide spectrum of Japanese critical commentary over the last three hundred years on the 255 haiku he translates here, besides offering his own perceptive remarks. Highly recommended for anyone who takes Basho seriously.
April 17, 2009
the definitive edition, takes years to read & study this edition, incredible reference, the one I go back to for haiku & Basho & Japanese philosophy and the history of poetics/religion...shows how haiku was a way of life for Basho & his followers, great understaning & interpretation/translations of the poems & their development by Makato Ueda
September 15, 2012
Basho is a well that never runs dry. Ueda's translations are strong and the conversations among critics through the centuries are amazing. This is one of the greatest books I have ever read. Ten stars.
June 24, 2008
best basho translations i've found, ambiguity preserved, original japanese included, interesting commentary collected
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews