Book of Haikus

I love this book. Kerouac's poetry was too wordy, but the discipline of Haiku imposed limits and the results were wonderful. Here's one haiku from that book: "You'd be surprised/ how little I knew/ Even up to yesterday." I have t hanging on my door.

Purchased Lew Welch's Ring of Bone and thus, became cognizant of this ditty because of the "what other customers liked" pictures/suggestions strip at the bottom of the page. So, since Amazon so graciously offers us perusal of things before buying, I was able to see that this book-too would be a wonderful gift for my brother's birthday. (Brother's a big fan of The Beats and of Kerouac in particular). Appreciate the way that the book separates the haikus according to both season plus place (in time and mind or influence). Also like the simple way that the haikus appear on the booklet's 5-by-6 little pages--four apiece. Kinda just traipse along, reading, whilst the mind's eye plucks at these, popping them into the mouth much like little candies: the inevitably sour with the sweet, for sure,(as-is to be respected with any gifted, suffering artist sort) but tasty all the while. Trippy little book. Thanks Amazon!

If my house started on fire, I would grab my copy of Jack Kerouac's Book of Haikus before climbing out the window.

This book will help my grandson with his poetry writing.

Since this is a Birthday gift, and it hasn’t been opened by them yet, I can’t rate the book itself. Nor can I speak to their pleasure at receiving the book. But, it’s the kind of book that would suit a person whose life revolves around writing, including Haiku. It was sent straight to the home of the Birthday person, and it arrived well before their birthday, so I’m pleased with that.

Who am I to judge another human being's writings objectively? Who am I to declare definitively that what one calls a haiku is in actuality not a haiku at all? Am I the expert? I don't think I am an expert because I am still learning about the artform -- but perhaps I 'do' have a degree of objectivity about it? The reason I think I may have some degree of objectivity about it is simply because I have been reading haiku; studying and investigating haiku (especially the original early great Japanese masters); and creating with great flexibility of experimentation my own haiku pretty obsessively for a few years now. I don't think it can be argued that there must be some kind of a genuine "aha" moment (a hidden insight) within the tiny poem; or that there must be at least one "not necessarily quite so obvious on the surface" intuited connection demonstrated existing between the animate and inanimate things in nature. It is in the absence of these things that one runs the risk of ending up with a tiny bit of reporting of what one perceived with his or her five senses and nothing more than that. Again, I don't know just how much objective discernment I have developed for making determinations of other people's good and bad haiku -- however, I can't imagine that it can be argued that at the very least a so called haiku that possesses an intuited set of connections or relationships between things found in nature will indeed seemingly qualify it as being a "true" and valid haiku. I believe that we here in the west (even after all this time) are yet to grasp what the true essence of the haiku artform actually is. So many of us here in the western world have not yet gotten beyond composing what are nothing more than these little filler material moments that are mostly just empty reporting of what one sees or hears. Much of the so-called haiku that so many of us create are so "gimmicky" (so "clever" or "contrived") and full of "affectation". I think that most of Kerouac's so called haiku quite simply are not haiku at all, but are seemingly just reporting what he saw and heard at any given moment; they're images without substance. I am overwhelmed by the sense that he never practiced looking below the surface of these images he reported to see if there was any extra depth therein. Now, having pretty much condemned most of Mr. Kerouac's tiny creations as being invalid (and I feel bad in my gut having done so) let me just try to prove my point by listing examples. These are seemingly objectively good to brilliant: In my medicine cabinet the winter fly has died of old age (It is brilliant; it has substance and the image is rendered perfectly.) Chief Crazy Horse looks tearfully north The first snow flurries (This is very good; the image is direct and has a substance to it. You notice that there are some almost "inexpressible" connections existing between the elements of the Chief's tears (regret over something, perhaps -- or a ruefulness?) and the snow flurries (Indicating perhaps a feeling that "it's getting late now" or even that "it is already too late"). There could also be a connection to notice contrasting his presumed "warrior's strength" with his tears. This one is very rich in the things that make for a objectively good or great haiku or senryu.) Missing a kick at the icebox door it closed anyway (This is a good one and seemingly is closer to being a "senryu" than a haiku. Do you see that it has that little "aha" moment in the last line? The setup is in the first line and the payoff is in the last.) For me those three I just listed represent the best of what he composed in the collections represented in this book. The rest seem anywhere from mediocre to just plain awful. (I get no joy in saying such a thing.) *** It is unfortunate that the vast majority of his creations are along the lines of the following examples (which for me lack any real substances in their images): Tuesday -- one more drop of rain From my roof (This one is just some kind of empty reporting of an image isn't it? What does it being Tuesday have anything to do with one more drop of rain falling from my roof? It is confusing if nothing else.) Seven birds in a tree, looking In every direction (This is just an empty image with no substance. "Seven" draws attention to itself -- but it does so seemingly for no discernable purpose whatsoever. It seems to me that "Birds in a tree" is preferable to "Seven birds in a tree" because in this instance "seven" is serving only to uselessly distract the reader. Seven birds in a tree looking in every direction simply isn't anything but an unremarkable image.) When the moon sinks down to the power line, I'll go in (What does the moon sinking down to the power line have to do with deciding to go in at that point? If there was a reason for it he didn't say so. Again no substance to it. Is there supposed to be a connection between the moon and power line? If so, I just don't see it. Just random elements put together seemingly for no reason. Confusing to me.) *** I do not mean to come off as sounding like some kind of high-handed authority on the matter but I think that most of Mr. Kerouac's so-called haiku quite simply aren't -- but I will give him all the credit in the world for trying as best as he knew how to do it. Maybe I am unduly punishing Mr. Kerouac for composing really bad haiku when I really ought to be making the point that the vast majority of the material in this book is not worthy of publication because of the objectively inferior quality of the content overall. It occurs to me that any number of others may disagree with my judgments and may "take me to task" over it -- I respect that. I hope I have been more helpful than irritating with this review.

Kerouac's book of haiku brings a distinctive American Beat(itude) edge to the concise mindset of the haiku form. Few seem to realize that his "On the Road" characterization of the era using the term "Beat" had its roots in Kerouac's own Catholic and Christian inclinations, specifically in the Beatitudes, from Matthew 5:3-12 and other Gospel accounts. In these haiku the fiercely raw spirituality of the Beat era is give clear voice.

An inspirational text from the Father of the American haiku form. A fascinating read.

ペーパーバックでお手頃価格。英語で俳句をやってみようという方には最高のテキストです。ビート・ジェネレーションの研究をしている方にも是非読んでもらいたい１冊です。

In an effort to cut costs, the size of this book has been significantly reduced than the stated dimensions. Also, the typesetting of the content has suffered. Margins space appear disorganized and awkwardly slanted in some. The overall reading experience of Haiku, which was intended to be fluid and enjoyable, is now marred by these distractions - undermining the book's original elegance and coherence.

I love haiku and I was pretty stoked to discover that Jack Kerouac did some in his time. I love it.

Very grumpy as the book is bent with markings. Was the last one so have to keep it.

Next to Basho the best Haiku writer. An inspiration.