What is Objective Hokku?
It is a hokku of things — not about our opinions of them or our interpretations of them. It is somewhat like tasting a bowl of soup. If someone asks you what you think of the soup, or what it reminds you of, or what it is like — then what you tell them is subjective. It is you talking about the soup, giving your opinions and interpretations of it — not the actual taste of it. So in hokku, we do not talk about the soup, we just hand you the bowl and say, “Here … taste!”
Because it deals with the “thing in itself,” Objective Hokku has no symbolism, no metaphor, no similes. It has meaning, but that meaning lies in the sensory experience, not in any explanation of it.
Objective Hokku is the distillation of the old Japanese hokku tradition down to its purest essence — the sensory experience of Nature and the place of humans as a part of Nature, set within the context of the changing seasons.
In Objective Hokku we leave aside all other aspects of the range of old hokku and focus on what is best and most unique in that tradition — the ability of one writer to transmit a sensory experience of Nature to another person, without any commentary or ornamentation or ego intervening.
Because our goal is to achieve that in the writing of hokku, we need not concern ourselves with how or why hokku were written in old Japan, or what the intent of the original author was. All we need do is to open ourselves to experiencing Nature and the seasons now, and to learn how to simplify an experience down to its essentials. Then we put that experience into a few simple words.
I often use translations of old Japanese hokku as examples of Objective Hokku, even though some of them originally had hidden allusions or meanings other than their “surface meaning.” To us that makes no difference if, as they stand, they work as Objective Hokku. We take the obvious meaning and leave the rest, because in Objective Hokku, the meaning is in the experience; nothing is hidden.
We see that in this spring hokku by Onitsura:
On the tips of the barley leaves,
It is primarily visual, but there is also an undertone of touch in the chill of the morning air as the eastern sky lightens. It allows us to experience a dawn in early spring, when the Yang energies — the active, warm energies — are growing, and the cold passive Yin energies are beginning to wane; spring is growing and winter is receding. We see Yang in the dawn and in the young barley leaves, and we see lingering Yin in the white frost that covers their tips.
Here there is no symbolism. There is only the bare experience, with nothing whatsoever added to it. Further, there is no writer visible anywhere in it, because the writer has become a clear mirror that reflects without addition or distortion. That is how a hokku experience is transmitted — selflessly — from one person to another.
It is important to note that even though I like to use selected old Japanese hokku as examples of Objective Hokku, one need know nothing about Japan or about the history of hokku. All we need are the principles of Objective Hokku as we practice it today. That makes it a living thing, not a relic of the past or a subject of academic speculation.
It is important to note that people too are a subject for Objective Hokku, but people seen as part of Nature, in the context of a given season, as in this spring verse by Suiha:
In Objective Hokku, we see the constant change inherent in Nature, inherent in our existence. Impermanence — transience — is at the very heart of hokku, because it is at the heart of life.
In future postings I hope to discuss Objective Hokku in more detail — its aesthetic principles, and how to write and read it. If there is anything you do not understand in these discussions, please ask, because no doubt there are others with the same questions.