On the Flattening of Tanka

Tanka Versus had a discussion about the flattening of tanka. I had been away from tanka for about 15 years after my father’s death, but during that time the environment surrounding tanka changed dramatically. It now seems that tanka with carefully constructed structure are no longer in fashion.

I believe that poetry has meaning precisely in its “density”: it has something to say and, by condensing it, can convey it in an instant. Otherwise, one could use prose. If one wishes to remain in the realm of sensation and take time, one could use music. I believe there is a realm that only poetry can occupy, so I honestly feel uneasy about flat tanka that are merely “plain.”

I am not saying that poems that look plain at first glance are uniformly bad. It is of course possible to put something terribly deep into apparent plainness. Indeed, that may be the ideal. But it is not easy. It can easily descend into something utterly trivial. That requires “genius.”

Looking back, many of the tanka poets featured in Tanka Versus have become far younger than I am. This may be an old man’s muttering, but as a late-arriving Urashima Tarō, I would like to keep writing constructed poems, even if only little by little.