Corneliu
Traian Atanasiu – PRIN ȘINDRILA SPARTĂ FÎN DIN CARUL MARE (CUM SĂ CITIM ȘI SĂ
SCRIEM HAIKU). Editura PIM, Iași, 2026, 184 p.
Corneliu
Traian Atanasiu – Through the Broken Shingle, Hay from the Big Dipper (How
to Read and Write Haiku). PIM Publishing House, Iași, 2026, 184 pp.
An
account of a haiku community, why Bashō’s haiku is not an exemplary haiku—and,
above all, why his style is not the only way to write authentic haiku—why
imitating Bashō does not produce genuine haiku, what the features and
functioning of the haiku poem are that we must take into account in order to
write authentic haiku, and why, in fact, we are familiar with and find
accessible the style of the haiku poem through analogies with well-known texts
from Western literature—these are some of the issues and questions discussed in
this volume.
“Savoring
the moment on a symbolic porch” is the subtitle that opens the volume and
immediately introduces its subject through the reader’s first contact, as part
of the general public, with the haiku poem. The chosen poem is the following:
“grass up to the threshold – / the last pillars of the porch / supporting the
sky,” written by Cecilia Bîrcă. The explanations that follow prepare the
beginner reader to understand the haiku poem, as follows: “Nothing in the poem
above is pompously rhetorical or sweetly lyrical. The style of the text is
sober and ascetic. [...] It is not the author who insists on stirring any
emotion in us or urging us toward anything in particular. The image before us
conveys everything without pathos and without any tremor. It merely gives us
pause for thought” (p. 6).
The
volume then presents its purpose and the context in which it was written. The
book Through the Broken Shingle, Hay from the Big Dipper (How to Read and
Write Haiku) contains the 20-year experience of Master Corneliu Traian
Atanasiu within the Romanian Kukai group, where, through monthly and weekly
contests, poems were commented on, the mechanisms by which haiku works were
identified, the structure of this poetic form was understood, and a Romanian
haiku practice took shape, moving beyond the idea that the only way to write
good haiku is to imitate the Japanese. However, the competition format remains
based on the traditional Japanese model, in which apprentices write poems,
submit them anonymously for voting, and then the authors are revealed and the
poems discussed. The author himself describes the aim of the volume as follows:
“This final volume makes use of previously collected material, which it
organizes more systematically. It does not abandon the essayistic, ironic
style, which is more appealing to the general public. But it makes abundant use
of poems to illustrate in practice what would otherwise be a dull and dry
theorization” (p. 9).
The
next subsection, “This Remains a Confession Between Us,” conveys a warning
about how to begin writing haiku—namely, by reading many good poems and, above
all, “at least a few under the guidance of someone knowledgeable” (p. 10).
Master Atanasiu’s book shows, from the author’s own experience, the reactions of
beginners when reading good haiku and also provides responses to these
reactions, offering explanations intended to shift the uninformed reader’s
perspective on what poetry—and especially the haiku poem—has meant to them
until recently.
The
author of the volume refers to the haiku poem not as “short poetry,” but as
“laconic poetry” (p. 12). This designation is meant as a warning: haiku is not
easy to write without understanding its mechanism, without knowing how to truly
read it. An analogy is made with the story of the emperor’s clothes, referring
to the “nudity of the text” (p. 13) in haiku, which is a poem lacking the usual
figures of speech found in Western lyrical poetry.
Indeed,
the second haiku presented in the volume gradually introduces the reader to
various ways of understanding the haiku poem and to its defining traits, which
catch the beginner’s attention: “cast-iron cauldron – / moonlight jumps / into
the polenta” (Costin Iliescu) (p. 10). The reader may react by wondering where
the figures of speech are, where the poetry is. Hence the “nudity” of the text,
explained a few pages later.
Haiku
represents a challenge through the way it leads the reader onto a “false
trail”: “The false trail is a strategically placed syntactic construction, used
ironically in the text with the intention of diverting the reader from the
true, deeper meaning of the text” (p. 14).
First,
the haiku poem must flow naturally, as if it were recording a fact in a
straightforward, objective, and observational manner, as in the following
example: “reading at dawn – / from the book with my palm / I gather pollen”
(Șerban Codrin) (p. 14). Then the meaning of the poem is intertwined with an
allusive one. From a simple described action—the gathering of pollen with the
hand from the pages of a book—upon rereading, the poem slips, through
suggestive words, toward other meanings: “Reading at dawn is now understood as
reading in the dawn of life, a formative stage, and the pollen becomes a kind
of acquisition of spiritual values, the grains that will fertilize and enrich one’s
life” (p. 15).
It
should be noted that a haiku poem does not mean merely creating images or
relying on beautiful imagery: “The haiku text does not aim to evoke an image
for its own sake, for its beauty, to be admired. Rather, it is interested in
bearing witness, through a subtle arrangement, to a certain visual truth” (p.
27).
A
deeper understanding of a haiku poem is described as follows: “There are not
two separate texts. There is only one, predominantly rhetorical text, into
which accidents and deviations also slip. Once noticed, they take over
initiative and control. They make one think. They suggest. And silently, they
add an allusive, subtextual fabric to the text. Allusive reading is a leisurely
one, an adventure for the reader who ventures into a treasure land with only a
barely sketched map” (p. 16).
Master
Atanasiu’s style of explaining the understanding of the haiku poem is one that
engages the reader, much like a literary text. His comments are far from
lacking expressiveness, and thus they entice the beginner reader to explore
this special type of poetry, haiku. We are not dealing merely with
explanations; it feels more like listening to an experienced storyteller with
literary talent, speaking to us about the charm of the haiku poem. This
connects to the motto at the beginning of the book, referring to the style of
literary criticism as defined by Nicolae Manolescu: “To succeed in this,
criticism must not be dull, boring, or off-putting. The critic is an altruistic
reader, who reads for the pleasure of others, not just for their own pleasure.
Among the many roles we can imagine for literary criticism, the most important
remains that of awakening the reader within us. Călinescu liked a verse by a
German Romantic poet referring to the poet: if you strike the magic word, the
world begins to sing. If you strike the magic word, literature begins to sing.
And the reader begins to hear its song” (p. 5).
The
subtitles are themselves enticing, defining the reading of the haiku poem in a
particularly attractive way, such as, for example: Accepting Nudity or Changing
the Track. The author knows how a beginner discovers the haiku poem and
therefore guides them patiently and expressively, opening up new perspectives
on this poem, which thus becomes complex rather than a simple short poem about
nature—as it might initially and superficially appear, if one were not guided
through the way this poetic form actually works. We thus see that a simple
definition such as the 5-7-5 syllable pattern, three lines, and a nature-based
subject tells us nothing about the haiku poem. It is not enough to look at
nature in order to write haiku.
The
shock of the absence of figures of speech is, it seems, a carefully calculated
one: “The nudity of the text is linked to intentions that the author has
deliberately embedded in the formulations used. The reasons are multiple. One
is precisely this element of surprise, even if initially it is a negative one.
Another is that, constructed in this way, the text mutes emotion, which the
reader will only discover when they search for and find the subtext, the
implicit meaning of the poem. But the most important of the author’s intentions
is to challenge the reader” (p. 17).
Indeed,
the haiku poem requires an active reader, one who collaborates with the author
and is able to discover its various layers. Master Atanasiu distinguishes
between rhetorical and anti-rhetorical style: “Rhetorical style (as a style of
literary formulation) is one that the reader is accustomed to. It is one that
subordinates and guides them authoritatively. And in this comfortable way, it
provides the security and ease of effortless understanding. Rhetorical
formulations keep the reader in an environment where they feel at home. The
anti-rhetorical or allusive style unsettles them, although for the haiku author
it is merely an invitation to cooperate. An ironic call, indeed, to detect and
uncover the layer of suggestion and indirect hints hidden beneath the
appearance of nudity” (p. 17).
Regarding
the idea of textual provocation, Master Atanasiu links the emergence of the
haiku poem in Western literature to a spirit of experimentalism that, at a
certain point, permeates the artistic world: “The evolution of art has moments
when not only old frameworks, but also content, ideas, and emotions no longer
fully satisfy the public. At such times, authors appear who revolutionize
outdated codes and propose new ones. I believe the emergence of haiku in
Western literature was such a moment” (p. 19). For this reason, the audience
was and remains open to a new poetic experience.
Ultimately,
the haiku poem represents one facet of poetry. The poetic experience cannot be
fully defined according to a fixed template. Otherwise, it would no longer be
called art. Creativity would no longer exist. Poetry has been and continues to
be multiple in form—not only in the case of haiku. Western poetry has also
known, and continues to know, experimental forms in which language is
colloquial and stripped of the usual figures of speech that create lyricism.
The
author of the volume presents various mistaken perceptions held by writers who
claim to write haiku, including the idea that writing like Bashō means writing
authentic haiku poems. The problem lies in a style that is neither fragmentary,
nor laconic, nor allusive, but instead reduced to a “compliant exposition” (p.
20). Atanasiu emphasizes that “Shiki revolutionized the hokku poem, endowing it
with a kireji and renaming it haiku” (p. 20). Thus, Bashō did not write haiku,
but hokku, despite being called the father of the haiku poem. Returning to
Bashō would therefore mean returning to an outdated way of writing.
Among
the techniques described by Atanasiu as personal and original is also the
discussion of procedures that have already become classical and are well known
to experienced haiku readers and writers: juxtaposition. Atanasiu notes that in
hokku there is no juxtaposition, which means that it does not have the two-part
structure of the haiku poem. Thus, “With the patenting of a new three-line
format, haiku has two parts, and it is up to the author’s discretion to take
advantage of this opportunity to abandon, as much as possible, the discursive
style and to rely on the allusive one, which will enrich the content of the
text. It will make it more comprehensive, more complex, more dynamic and more
tense” (p. 21).
For
Master Atanasiu, laconism represents “the compensation of brevity” (p. 22).
Moreover, a laconic poem does not simply mean a short poem in terms of length:
“Laconism is not [...] a quantitative adjustment of the text according to the
5-7-5 syllable canon, but a qualitative operation of renouncing certain
literary communicative conventions that are excessively present in Western
poetry” (p. 23). The laconic style, though apparently brief, also involves
attention to what can be inferred, implied, and imagined further. It refers to
what the haiku text suggests. Laconism “requires the use of less discursive
language in favor of the allusive one. One must also read the silences, those
found between the lines, as well as the tacit meanings of the subtext. Metaphorically
speaking, it is a technique of eloquent omission that speaks while increasing
meaning by economizing words” (p. 23). Thus, “The elements presented in the
text cannot be shown in detail; they are only roughly sketched, barely
outlined, merely suggested” (p. 26).
Atanasiu
emphasizes that if the haiku poem is short and lacks the usual figures of
speech found in Western poetry, “This does not mean that it will settle for a
poor, meager, and humble content” (p. 25). On the contrary. It is precisely
through its brevity, its reduction to essentials, and what it does not state
directly that the poem gains depth. Thus, the haiku poem “will take advantage
of the depth of elliptical expression and enjoy the effects obtained: ambiguity
and indeterminacy. The haiku style does not arise in an empty space. The
laconism it adopts has always been cultivated by spoken language and by the
human inclination toward wit. The only obstacle is that modern people neglect
or undervalue it, considering it unceremonious, inelegant, careless, or
underdeveloped” (p. 25).
We
can, to some extent, draw parallels with the textual minimalism of Hemingway,
for whom every word was carefully chosen, with nothing unnecessary included.
All excess words were deliberately removed by Hemingway. Apparently simple, his
text carried a stronger semantic load. In this way, the technique of the haiku
poem becomes more familiar. It all began from a necessity, namely Hemingway’s
profession as a journalist, where there was a word limit and therefore words
had to be chosen with great care. Of course, Hemingway’s texts were much longer
than a haiku poem and belonged to prose. However, readers, once they become
familiar with the haiku poem through reading Master Atanasiu’s book, may
realize that certain aspects of haiku style are not entirely foreign to them
and may thus reflect further along the path opened by this volume.
Atanasiu
borrows the idea of the sketch in understanding the haiku poem from a Japanese
author: “Masaoka Shiki, the one who ‘patented’ haiku, recommended it as a
sketch of life (shasei). That is, a text that briefly evokes things or events
that are nevertheless full of life, concrete, tangible, and not abstract
thoughts. Because it was written with ink, they had to have the appearance and
expressiveness of elegant brushstrokes applied to rice paper” (p. 27).
The
parallels between the haiku style and that of well-known texts in Western
literature, which the reader of Atanasiu’s volume may have already considered,
are confirmed by the master himself. He gives the example of Daniel Defoe’s
style, the author of the famous novel Robinson Crusoe, relying on Vera
Călin’s analyses in the book The Eloquent Omission: “What can be noticed
from the outset, and what ensures the broad accessibility of Defoe’s novel, is
the disregard for ‘beautiful writing,’ the rejection of the rhetoric of
ornamental redundancy that had become dominant in literature. The simple style
of presenting facts, the focus on concrete, precise detail, on small everyday
occurrences, on rendering the most tangible qualities of objects—even if it may
seem to more demanding readers a kind of subliterature—is appreciated perhaps
precisely for its charming artistic innocence. This is also due to the fact
that the author is a storyteller, but not one who subjugates the reader by
guiding them along the sequence of events; rather, he presents the facts
indifferently, imperturbably, avoiding emotional or moral commentary, leaving
interpretation to suggestion and implication” (p. 28–29).
The
similarity with the haiku style is also linked to “the motivation for such an
austere and arid style” (p. 29) in Defoe’s case. Thus, “Referring to Defoe,
Vera Călin tells us that he ‘considers facts to be endowed with a persuasive
force that dispenses with the transfigurative power of style. In its nakedness,
Defoe’s writing allows us to feel the irresistible pressure of facts; it
compels us to submit to their intrinsic message, which the novelist, in his own
understanding a mere intermediary, wishes to transmit unaltered’” (p. 29).
We
cannot help but think of the style of indirect communication specific to
Japanese culture and society and, more broadly, to the Asian world. In the
communicative practices of Asian societies, many words and details are left
unsaid, suggested through body language, facial expressions, tone of voice,
hesitations, and moments of silence. We thus observe how the haiku poem offers
both familiar and unfamiliar elements in its communicative style, as well as
both universal and culturally specific features.
The
subtitles that attract our attention also help us fix our understanding of the
haiku poem. We easily retain the features of haiku thanks to titles such as: Short
and Comprehensive (p. 36) – concision –, The Realm of “As If” (p.
41) – the allusive style –, The Ironic Mood (p. 47), The Allusive
Fabric (p. 55), Camouflage (p. 56) – the presence of the two layers
of the poem –, The Magic of Juxtaposition (p. 75) – juxtaposition –, Difference
and Correspondence (p. 77) – possible features of juxtaposition –, By
the Way! (p. 80) – the allusive style –, The Eloquent Omission (p.
104) – based on Vera Călin’s observations on a new style in Western literature,
related to “the evolution of a part of Western literature, especially prose and
drama, toward a style she calls elliptical” (p. 104).
Atanasiu
includes at the end a glossary of terms related to haiku: A Few Words from
the Glossary of Those Laboring in the Field of Haiku (p. 135). The author
justifies the presence of this glossary as follows: “Some are words that simply
name what is already known about haiku, perhaps slightly more critically
adjusted. However, most are terms that I have proposed and used in analyses without
having encountered them beforehand. They seemed necessary to me for a vision
more in tune with the poems written by Romanian authors today” (p. 135).
The
volume concludes with Haiku Poems Included in the Volume (p. 171), where
the poems used by Atanasiu to illustrate his guidance for beginners and his
theories can be read one after another.
The
book proposes a dialogue with a master who guides beginners with great patience
and talent, but above all with great understanding, in comprehending and then
writing the haiku poem. We are warned from the very beginning that we need
someone experienced to accompany us in understanding this poetic form. As we
progress through the volume, we realize that, in fact, the solution is offered
within the very pages of this book.
Through
the language of a charming storyteller, the volume helps us go through an
authentic experience of a disciple guided by their master. We also get the
impression that we are, in fact, reading a story, the author succeeding in
creating and maintaining suspense regarding the explanations of how to
understand certain haiku poems, for example, about which he promises we will
learn more later.
At
the same time, this volume represents a complex study of the contemporary haiku
poem within the Romanian authors’ community Romanian Haiku. The study outlines
the specific features of the haiku poem developed in this community, a haiku
based on tension and an allusive subtext, a poem described by Atanasiu as
having “zvâc” (snap/energy), a well-known expression within the community he
guides. Atanasiu starts from existing critical literature on the haiku poem,
develops his own theories and concepts based on his observations from working
with authors in his community, as well as on theories such as Vera Călin’s idea
of “eloquent omission.” The study is easy to read due to its friendly
storytelling style, using simple language, but at times also colorful, colloquial,
and occasionally with dialectal tones. It is also a study on the reception of
the haiku poem by the general public, by beginners. It is also a popularization
book on the haiku poem, aiming to make haiku accessible to anyone outside the
Romanian Kukai haiku community.
After
reading Corneliu Traian Atanasiu’s volume, readers—initially untrained, now
trained—look again at the cover, the title, and the haiku on the back cover,
and see everything with different eyes, from another perspective. From now on,
the reader no longer needs to read the explanations also present on the back
cover, selected from the book. They already know the lesson. They already see
the poem “broken shingle – / grandfather unloads hay / from the Big Dipper”
(Cristina-Monica Moldoveanu) (p. 68) through its two layers: the literal one,
of a grandfather unloading hay from a cart (in Romanian, the Big Dipper is called
the Big Cart), but also the allusive one: “the grandfather is somewhere above.
[...] The grandfather is [...], since he is no longer among us, a mythical
being with his residence in the Big Dipper. From there, he diligently unloads
the hay of starlight through the gap in the shingle roof” (p. 68).
At
first glance, the cover delights with its starry sky, which occupies more space
than the hills sketched in darkness, as well as with the haiku that seems taken
from a fantastic world, having no apparent connection to reality. The reader
might think of an optical illusion, depending on the angle from which the scene
is viewed. It could be an example of a gaze that completely sets aside what we
know about how the world works, as in Zen Buddhist meditations. Yet deeper
meanings also exist here. The principle of omission is present, as we are
reminded on the back cover, and it is precisely what makes possible the
interpretation related to a fantastic world: “The omission of specifying the
real context (the hayloft) and its replacement through a synecdoche and the
hole in the roof facilitate a contextual drift toward a fairytale setting.
Everything slips into a state of drift and changes appearance. What was earthly
acquires celestial radiance. A ruin becomes a place fit to host a fairy-tale
scene” (p. 68).
Thus,
the haiku poem can in fact be poetry in the true sense, by creating the
possibility for the fantastic to enter reality. The poem on the back cover,
also alluded to by the title of the volume, represents a clear way of
captivating the reader, drawing them in, intriguing them, and provoking them to
enter the world of haiku, discovering its various facets. It is one of those
poems that immediately attract through the spectacular nature of their images
and that remain in the memory of still-untrained readers. It remains, however,
to be seen how such a poem can be written so as to be considered haiku. It only
appears easy on the surface; in reality, it requires a solid understanding of
the poem’s mechanism and its subtleties.
