Recently, in a haibun writer’s workgroup

Recently, in a haibun writer’s workgroup, discussion emerged as to what makes a good haibun, especially in the context of English language haibun. I am so new to this form of writing that many of my opinions about what is right and wrong come from what others have suggested to me are the attributes of proper haibun. I have been told that the essential elements include:

    Prose and at least one haiku
    Present tense
    Brief descriptive phrases and sentence fragments
    Preferably rooted in nature
    Writer is detached observer of natural phenomenon
    Links to the writer through some form of epiphany
    Haiku should not restate the prose but should extend it through contrast, juxtaposition, offering something just beyond the prose
    Haiku should be a true haiku preferably with two lines and a juxtaposing third



I have been told that it is also desirable if the prose and or haiku introduce humour or levity.



That said, what I think makes a good haibun is one that I can relate to – it provides a description of an experience that is almost, if not, universal. It allows me to cast about through my own memories and awareness for my own similar experience and find personal relevance and possibly enlightenment. It stirs emotion, even if just pleasure in the choice of words and images described. It has an aesthetic appeal in that it describes something that triggers my senses – sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, - enough that I have a visceral reaction – either one of pleasure, pain, or churn.



I think that a good haibun has elements of poetry within the prose – words with power as they describe something, rhythm in the sing song of phrases, and images that crystallize in my mind. Words with power are action words, words with leverage in their description so that the thing being described seems more present, more alive. If past tense is used, the words bring this alive as if it is happening now. If the future is involved, I feel myself brought into that moment yet to come. The words, the sentences, the paragraphs even are structured to move me further and further into the moment. The rhythm matches the experience being described – fast and urgent if tension is involved, slow and melancholy if one of deeper reflection, langorous if one of seduction.



I don’t yet understand the magic of haiku making it hard for me to describe what makes a good one. Within haibun, I like a haiku that isn’t a repetition of the prose yet I can understand how it relates to the prose. It must be one that I understand for me to derive any enjoyment and personal meaning. If I don’t get that personal connection, the haiku adds nothing for me. I tend to like haiku where the third line reveals a secret that is both embedded in the first two lines, and relates to the prose. For me, that secret, once revealed, feels like an obvious truth that I hadn’t realized until that moment. I love to have someone write something that shows me a new perspective that feels instantly right once presented to me.



In general, I think a weak haibun is one that simply describes things, whether natural or otherwise, without giving any impetus to personalize and mediate on the meaning for ones own self. For me, a strong haibun is one that relates to basic aspects of being human, or triggers us to think about these basic and universal elements:

    Birth, life and death for any being, but particularly one that might trigger our identification, including any specific stages of development from birth to death.
    Relationships between living beings including general companionship, family, intimate friends, moments of bonding, sex, conflict, dissolution of relationships, and discovery about oneself through relationship.
    Trials and tribulations that challenge us to be better than we are, whether we succeed or fail.
    General values that are part of what it means to be human.
    Spiritual matters that involve exploration of questions about life’s purpose, our place in the universe, our relationship to something beyond ourselves.
    Our foibles and limitations that can be examined with a humourous eye.



Does this relate to the tradition of haibun? I don’t know as I have not been a student of the history of that writing tradition. I haven't had the benefit of reading a lot of ancient haibun so I can't offer any observations of older versions of this form. 



I understand that haibun first derived from the practice of Basho to keep a diary in which he described situations and events of his day and then concluded with a haiku, or embedded haiku within the body of his prose. I don’t know if we must keep to that tradition for the writing to be called haibun.  I don’t know if it matters to me if a writing follows a specific formula as much as it matters to me that I am moved by the piece.



I think the power of any haibun is in its ability to move the widest body of readers, or to deeply move a targeted audience. If this is the measure, then there is tremendous freedom of style within the form.



For more about haibun, visit http://raysweb.net/haiku/pages/haibun-definition.html