Renga Fields

Renga Fields

One characteristic of renga that distinguishes renga from other long forms of poetry is that renga do not tell a story. Renga is non-narrative in nature. There is no central individual around whom the action swirls and there is no plot device that binds the sequence of images together. Sometimes one can discern a theme to a renga in the sense of a dominant mood or focus. But that is not the same as a plot or narrative. The non-narrative nature of renga is, as far as I know, unique for a form of poetry that in its classical form, could go on for 100 verses or more.

There is a kind of East Asian painting that contains multiple scenes spread over the canvas. The different scenes are often separated by natural formations such as rivers, forests, mountains, etc. As one moves over the canvas the observer takes in a multitude of different depictions. Often this kind of painting served a teaching function. For example, among East Asian Buddhists it was traditional to do a series of paintings on a long scroll. Each painting would depict scenes from a chapter of a Buddhist Sutra. This scroll was then used by Buddhist Priests to lecture on the particular Sutra in question, pointing to scenes in the painting illustrating a passage from a Chapter of a Sutra. This was how, for example, the Lotus Sutra was taught for many centuries. The 28 Chapters of the Lotus Sutra were depicted in 28 paintings and each painting had multiple scenes. You can think of this kind of painting as an early form of power point presentation.

This style of painting could also be used in non-teaching contexts so that, for example, a landscape could encompass multiple seasons or a cityscape could encompass multiple landmarks within the city. In modern times some postcards will have multiple scenes of a city or county to appeal to tourists.

This way of laying out scenes on a flat surface uses the surface as a field and then divides the field into sections, each section having its own focus. The overall impression from the multiple sections is the theme of the field as a whole. For example, a large postcard of Paris might contain the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, a view of the Seine, a Cafe, a bottle of fine French Wine, and maybe a picture of Versailles. And the overall theme that unites these various images is “life in Paris.” There is no narrative to these scenes, but there is an underlying theme.

I think renga is similar to these kinds of paintings and postcards. I think that is why it is a non-narrative form of poetry. There is an underlying thematic unity to the images of a renga, but it is a unity that does not require a narrative, it is not a unity of story or character, it is the unity of a field.

Think of a field. In one corner of a field there is a stand of oaks. Running through the bottom of the field is a creek. A playground for kids has been built in one section of the field with swings and a sandbox. There are several picnic tables here and there. To the left of the middle are several boulders left over from when glaciers were prominent. There are bike and footpaths through the field, as well as more subtle traces of animal trails and their nests and living spaces. All of this is simultaneous; it happens all at once. We observe it in sequence, but it is going on all the time, going on together. That is one of the meanings of experience as a field; that things happen all at once, not in sequence.

Narrative structures are, by definition, sequential. They provide a structure of one thing happening after another. But life isn’t really sequential in nature. It is more complicated than that. Life more closely resembles the depictions on the paintings and postcards I referenced above where many things are happening together.

Renga resembles looking at a field and spotting various scenes or portions of the field. Renga displays the world as a field in which our lives unfold. Renga is non-narrative because the field of life is non-narrative.

In the postcard I described above of Paris the underlying field which unifies the postcard is Paris itself. What is the underlying field which unifies renga? My sense is that the field which renga offers for observation is the field of time. Often we think of time as a series of moments and we sometimes depict time as a line. If, however, we consider time as a field then time becomes more expansive.

The required images in a renga are all signals of the presence of time. The moon verse points to the most ancient timekeeper that humanity had, and the ebb and flow of the moon in the sky is the very essence of time. The blossoming tree verse points to an event which manifests at a particular time and, like the moon, appears from the void, blossoms, and then quickly recedes. The moon is a quick monthly cycle of time, while the blossoming tree is a yearly cycle. The love verse points to a central manifestation of every human life; that moment when love appears. But love resembles the moon and the blossoming tree; it appears for a while and then vanishes. The love verse points to a cycle that resembles the moon and the blossoming tree, but usually manifests once in a human life. And finally, the seasonal verses are manifestations of time that appear and disappear in a regular cycle.

Think of planet earth as a field. Upon this field of earth things appear. Fall appears, blossoms appear, love appears, the moon appears in its various forms. All of this happens all at once and this appearing and vanishing is the field of time.

This is why renga is full of things, the things of everyday life. Because those things are time and time is those things. The appearing and disappearing of the moon, flowering trees, the seasons, they are all time. Time is not the container in which these things happen; the happening of these things is the field of time.

Displaying the world in this way renga gives us a glimpse of the fullness of life. It is difficult for the human mind to grasp the rich complexity of the world in which we dwell. Renga offers us a way to enter into that complexity. Renga does this by displaying for us the field of time, the field of our lives.