introducing two female japanese poets | 日本人的な詩人の女の二人を紹介する

皆さん、こんばんは！

I've recently come across two japanese female poets whose works- & lives- I've become enamoured with. their stories evoke a deep feeling of camaraderie within me, which seems ever so precious as I try to navigate my feelings about womanhood in a world that seems uncomfortable with talking about the almost indescribably unique experience of being a woman, & would instead prefer to numb it altogether. in this blog post I'd like to share these poets, my favourite poems of theirs, & what they mean to me.

my first poet is kaneko misuzu.

she was born in 1903 on the eleventh of april in the small fishing town of nagato. following the death of her father, she was raised by her single mother, who, being the owner of a bookstore, highly valued education & literacy- even keeping her in schooling until she was 17 in a time where most girls left school around the age of 11 or 12. in her early twenties, she began to write poems for children, submitting them to five magazines that were hosting poetry competitions- to her surprise, four of them accepted her works, & began publishing them ! this was shortly followed by her rise as a literary celebrity.

yet kaneko-san's personal life was quite troubled. her husband, originally a clerk from her mother's bookstore, turned out to be abusive; he forbid her from leaving the house, forced her to give up her writing, & even gave her a disease that left her in agony. when she attempted to rise from this anguish by leaving him, she was heartbroken to discover that the japanese family courts would grant him full custody of their daughter. 

one night, following a bath with her daughter, kaneko-san shared with her their favourite dessert, sakuramochi, & left a letter for her husband, asking him to let her mother raise their daughter.

she took her life that very night. a month before her twenty-seventh birthday.

yet the ending is bittersweet, for kaneko-san's mother was eventually allowed to raise her daughter, & on the anniversary of her death each year, grandmother & grandchild would share sakuramochi & pause to remember kaneko-san's beautiful soul.

I adore this photo of kaneko-san! doesn't she have such a soft, under-stated beauty?

...

my favourite poem of hers is as follows:

benten island | 弁天島

"Such a lovely island- |「 あまりかわいい島だから

seems a shame for it to be out there, | ここには惜しい島だから、

so I'll just snag it with a rope | 貰ってゆくよ、

and take it away." | 綱つけて。」

So laughed a sailor from the North. | 北のお国の船乗りが、ある日、笑っていいました。

He's lying, he's lying, I thought. | うそだ、うそだ、と思っても、

but as night grew darker, I began to worry. | 夜が暗うて、気になって、

And in the morning, with my heart racing | 朝はお胸もどきどきと、

I ran to the beach. | 駆けて浜辺へゆきました。

Benten island was still there | 弁天島は波のうえ、

floaing on top of the waves | 金のひかりにつつまれて、

wrapped in golden light, | もとの緑で

as always. | ありました。

the source for both the japanese & english versions is here!

in this piece, kaneko-san expresses something inherently feminine: a strong *feeling* of passion & love for the things that are important to her- the island in this case- that drives her to do things that others may not understand. this misunderstanding is often fobbed off as 'irrational' or even 'hysterical', but for the women like her, their desire to protect the things they feel strongly about are anything but. it would seem irrational to *not* worry about the island & check to see that it is still there. these feelings of safeguarding & also anxiety are a unique part of womanhood- when at our best, we are highly intuitive & feeling ! the sensitivity with which she speaks of her desire to protect this island that she loves calls us to do the same in our own lives as women- wholeheartedly, nonsensically, & entirely- in a way that keeps us closely tuned to our bodies !

yet she also tells us how she perceives & reacts to men's own irrationalities. we are told nothing about the sailor aside from the fact that he has come from the north; it highlights that he not only does not know the land, but also does not particularly care to. he wants the beauty all to himself. it is quite irrational to feel entitled to an entire island, & to 'rope it away' so that only you may lay eyes on it. he is so blinded by his desire to own this island, to be its master, that he fails to see- perhaps because he is not interested to- the connections that others have to this land, & how his actions may harm them.

I find this poem to be a fascinating exploration of how both men & women can be nonsensical, & how each of them can respond to this feeling in different ways. it almost speaks of a certain colonial-ness in men; their inherent belief that they simply *ought* to control things, land included, & this is contrasted by the feminine attunement to the natural surroundings- & its desire to protect them. if you wanted to get hypothetical you could even say that, for kaneko-san in this poem, losing this island- or this island losing its freedom- would be like losing a part of herself; part of her would also lose its freedom. the island is a symbol of masculine control; one which she fears could overtake her too- hence why she worries so much about whether or not it is still there in the morning.

my second poet is akiko yusano.

I moreso resonated with kaneko-san's story over hers, so I'll skip the backstory- but to make up for it I'd like to share two of her poems.

of course, a photo of yosano-san as well ! this is my favourite of her <3

...

not speaking of the way | (japanese title unknown)

"Not speaking of the way, | 道を云わず

Not thinking of what comes after, | 後を思はず

Not questioning name or fame, | 名を問はず

Here, loving love, | ここに恋ひ恋ふ

You and I look at each other. | 君と我と見る"

the source for the japanese version is here,

& the source for the english version is here.

I enjoy this one for the simplicity & absoluteness with which it speaks about being in love. 

the other morning, on the bus ride to school, there was a blip in time where I was more fixated on the way the shape of the trees was bent & mirrored into the water of the river; with this my mind was completely occupied; I was more fascinated with the way branches fragmented than the everyday triviality I keep myself occupied with. which is to say, I was finally free; for a brief moment I was a master of my awareness. I believe the poem is conveying a similar feeling; a fulfilling emptiness, a lackthereof that completely nullifies the *need* for a 'thereof' in the first place; where nothing matters except the way I feel about you.

which is to say, this poem expresses love as a form of meditation. one day I hope to be so absolutely consumed with the sound of my lover's heartbeat that, even if for just a brief moment, I will be the master of my awareness once again; the universe will be completely empty except for this person & I. there will be nothing on my mind except for this; just like my encounter with the shimmering morning river.

...

Labor Pains | 第一の陣痛

"I am sick today, | 私は今日病んでゐる、

sick in my body, | 生理に病んでゐる。

eyes wide open, silent, | わたしは黙って目を開いて

I lie on the bed of childbirth. | 産前の床に横になってる。

Why do I, so used to the nearness of death, | なぜだらう、わたしは度度死ぬ目に遭ってゐながら、

to pain and blood and screaming, | 痛み、血と、叫びに慣れて居ながら、

now uncontrollably tremble with dread? | 制しきれない不安と恐怖とに慄ゐる。

A nice young doctor tried to comfort me | 若いお医者がわたしを慰めて、

and talked about the joy of giving birth. | 生むことの幸福を述べて下された。

Since I know better than he about this matter, | そんな事ならわたしの方が余計に知ってゐる。

what good purpose can his prattle serve? | それが今のなんの役に立たう。

Knowledge is not reality. | 知識も現実で無い、

Experience belongs to the past. | 経験も過去のものである。

Let those who lack immediacy be silent. | みんな黙って居て下さい、

Let observers be content to observe. | みんな傍観者の位置を超えずに居て下さい。

I am all alone, | 私は唯一人、

totally, utterly, entirely on my own, | 天にも地にも唯一人、

gnawing my lips, holding my body rigid, | じつと唇を嚙みしめて

waiting on inexorable fate. | わたし自身の不可抗力を待ちませう。

There is only one truth. | 生むことは、現に

I shall give birth to a child, | わたしの内か爆ぜる

truth driving outward from my inwardness. | 唯一つの真実創造、

Neither good nor bad; real, no sham about it. | もう是非の隙も無い。

With the first labor pains, | 今、第一の陣痛。。。

suddenly the sun goes pale. | 太陽は俄かに青白くなり、

The indifferent world goes strangely calm. | 世界は冷ややかに静まる。

I am alone. | さうして、わたしは唯

It is alone I am. | 一人。。。"

the source for the japanese version is here,

& the source for the english version is here.

writing the original japanese out by hand deepened my feelings for this piece. I spent so much time searching for it, & looking up the correct kanji, & swapping the つ to っ, that in a strange sense I grew to understand & appreciate the poem even more.

I find this one especially impressive considering that yosano-san had 13 kids !! so I imagine that there was nobody more familiar with the terror of childbirth than her. it brings to the forefront my own fears surrounding motherhood & particularly childbirth; I wish more people spoke honestly about it, as it's been a point of anxious obsession for me as long as I can remember. the plainness with which she writes about it brings you into the delivery room with her, & for me, makes it more... terror-inducing. there is a very real, very imminent sense of hopelessness; one that you can't just 'tap out' of. once you reach this threshold there is no way for you to run away from it- there is only one way out of it; which is through. I admire her vulnerability & willingness to say "this is a frightening moment that only I can help myself in overcoming".

in relation to 'being sick', it conjures up memories for me of being in so much pain that I became omniscient & aware that it was just me, my pain, & my body experiencing this pain, in a world that may as well be a void. it's one of the few times where you can feel each centimetre of your body, & it's terrifying, & you're paralysed, & you cry to god for help but he, like the rest of the room, is silent, like the rest of the world, & so you truly are alone. nothing is even real except that which you are viscerally familiar with; the only things you are sure exist are you, your pain, & the resulting despair. & to make matters worse, there's a camera pointed down at you, observing you in this state of heightened self-awareness, doing nothing but watch as you feel as though you are reduced to a prey animal, waiting to die, feeling the eyes of the wolf on you but being unable to do anything about it. (male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies?)

flowery imagery to avoid my emotional disturbance aside, you truly cannot understand the experience of childbirth unless you've been through it- which yusano-san addresses through the way she reacts to the doctor- but also that time distances you from it; so much so that you can forget how terribly frightening childbirth is. & like every other woman, yosano-san tries to be brave about it; she tells herself that there's no sham about it, & that she's used to blood & screaming, yet the fear consumes her anyway. even if you've never given birth, I think that for many women such anxiety is a highly prevalent part of their lives. 

for some reason I'm having a lot of trouble succinctly expressing that childbirth is exclusively a woman's experience; one that we are often dishonest about, while also being shocked that this dishonesty continues to harm women. poetry such as yosano-san's serves to confront the parts of womanhood we are dishonest to ourselves & others about; & it does so in a way that is so visceral you can't just look away. childbirth is one of the most feminine experiences a woman can have, & yet the range of experiences is so vast, so unique, that it makes me wonder if there could ever be a way to "honestly" speak of it. the only real honesty we have is that of our own lived experiences. but can they be misleading? yosano-san argues that you truly cannot understand the experience of childbirth unless you've been through it (which rings especially true in the way she feels about the doctor) but also that time can distance you from it so much that you can forget the raw terror of it. &, like every other woman, yosano-san tries to be brave about giving birth; she tells herself that 'there's no sham about it', & that she's used to blood & screaming, yet her feeling of doom consumes her anyway. I dare say that she raises the point that memory can be just as misleading as inexperience, which I find to be very interesting.

I'm still processing this poem & the emotions it brings up for me. I'm not willing to share them on such a public forum but I wanted to share this piece anyway, because that is the entire *point* of poetry; to make you feel, even if that feeling is uncomfortable. I'm a firm believer that poetry like this can be a catalyst for self-exploration, which I find so exciting ! it's such an accessible & emotionally safe way to understand your Self- to confront what you're afraid of, & to ask yourself questions that deepen your knowledge of your life ! 

as always, thank you so much, my dear reader, for being with me in this moment ! I hope that these poems made you think about what it means to be a woman if you are one, or that it helped you understand the way women see the world if you're not !! 

take care everyone, & remember that the universe loves you !

いつもいつも、読んでくれてありがとうございました！

お次まで！またね～！