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Michael McClintock, USA

Lanoue, David G., Laughing Buddha, a novel (Red Moon Press, P.O. Box 2461, Winchester, VA 22604-16612005). ISBN 1-893959-46-5, 182 pp., perfect softbound. $16.95 at bookstores or from the publisher.

Should you imagine that the world of haiku--either as it existed in old Japan, or as it exists today in the muggy streets and beer joints of modern New Orleans and a thousand other places in the West--is one of quietist moon-viewing and geeky addictions to blossom-sighing and sunsets, the wild and loony twists and turns of David G. Lanoue's Laughing Buddha are sure to set you straight. For me, a hardened grognard of some forty years of haiku hell-raising and demented pursuit of the perfect moment, this fast, fun novel is a hearty validation of a life without regrets for being wasted on a literature that redeems the useless and saves us from the worst in ourselves. As a master translator and scholar of the poet Issa, [see his website "The Haiku of Kobayashi Issa," and his book Pure Land Haiku: the Art of Priest Issa, from Buddhist Books International, 2004], and here again as a novelist, Lanoue's take on the haiku universe comes unencumbered by the rat-holes of pedantry and fog-sniffing that characterize the busy work of others.

Written in three parts that include over thirty sharp, pungent haiku, this novel's prose is direct, simple, and replete with literary, social, and nature-kissed satire that truly loves and understands its subject matter. The poems that salt the text invariably draw double-meanings from the prose surrounding them, but are also frequently--sometimes stunningly--jaw-dropping beautiful as standalone poems, transcending the cliches they lovingly tickle and toy with. This poem by the book's main character, the poet Buck-Teeth, written on a "poet-clogged verandah" in observance of a lunar eclipse, is a case in point:

she cools her sunburnt
face . . .
moon

I have no idea how this poem reads in Japanese, or if it might be regarded as any kind of achievement in that language, but in Lanoue's English this is a keeper and one of the best minimalist-styled moon haiku of the last decade. Prepare for similar joys and surprises throughout the tale.

I'm not going to reveal the plot, other than to say that it involves a quest to discover why the great haiku poet, Buck-Teeth, ceased writing for a full 130 days over a career of four decades. The nameless narrator, a bicycling, beer-swilling cafe-toad and resident loafer of twenty-first century New Orleans, sets out to unravel the mystery, returning in time to the mist-laden mountains of Shinano Province and the company of that host of haiku luminaries we first met in Haiku Guy (Red Moon Press, 2000). To get there, he simply uses his blue Bic roller pen to write himself into the story. The audacity of this narrative device is, like haiku itself, as plain, emphatic, and convincing as a rock to the head.

Dazed, and immediately curious as to what must befall this sincere and energetic blunderer, we as readers are compelled to follow along, willing enablers and companions. Equipped with Reeboks, a baggy saffron robe, and a miraculous and sudden fluency in the old dialect of the region, our palladin materializes in rushes behind the house of Inacho, the sake-brewer . . . and soon hooks up with Kojiki, a profound belcher and ex-samurai; Mido, the Poet in Green; Shiro, all in white, who imagines his verses; Kuro, the somber Poet in Black, given to darkling utterances, and Cup-of-Tea, Buck-Teeth's master and mentor. The adventure begins, menaced by ninja lick-spittle's the seductive Lady Plum, and the jealous, brooding presence of Professor Nassau"the distinguished chair of Uptown University's Asian Languages and Literatures Department," author of a 700-page book of haiku criticism, and one of haiku literature's most cleverly realized, unforgettable contemporary characters. Lanoue, who is himself a full professor of English at Xavier University in Louisiana, knows his man.

Risk, we are taught again and again in these pages, yields art. Bravo to Lanoue for his insights into the mystic realms of haijin past and present, and bravo to Red Moon Press for having the virtue of courage to publish this book and, God willing, even make some money from it.

The review appeared in Frogpond, Volume XXIX:1, Winter 2006 (pages 73-75).

Reprinted by permission of the author.