Tanka Prose - Etymology and Form

Etymology and Form

In the time of the Man'yōshū (compiled after 759 AD), the term tanka was used to distinguish "short poems" from the longer chōka (長歌?, "long poems"). In the ninth and tenth centuries, however, notably with the compilation of the Kokin Wakashū, the short poem became the dominant form of poetry in Japan, and the originally general word waka (和歌, "Japanese poem"?) became the standard name for this form. Japanese poet and critic Masaoka Shiki revived the term tanka in the early twentieth century as part of his tanka modernization project, similar to his revision of the term haiku.

Tanka consist of five units (often treated as separate lines when romanized or translated) usually with a pattern of onji of 5-7-5-7-7. The group of the first three, 5-7-5, is called the kami-no-ku ("upper phrase"), and the second, 7-7, is called the shimo-no-ku ("lower phrase"). In English, the units are often rendered as lines and indeed some modern Japanese poets have printed them as such; Hiroaki Sato notes that such lineation is not representative of the Japanese, where mono-linear units are the norm, and Mark Morris comments that tanka and other forms are "packed" by "Anglophone scholars...into a limited repertoire of rectilinear containers".

Read more about this topic:  Tanka Prose

Famous quotes containing the words etymology and/or form:

    Semantically, taste is rich and confusing, its etymology as odd and interesting as that of “style.” But while style—deriving from the stylus or pointed rod which Roman scribes used to make marks on wax tablets—suggests activity, taste is more passive.... Etymologically, the word we use derives from the Old French, meaning touch or feel, a sense that is preserved in the current Italian word for a keyboard, tastiera.
    Stephen Bayley, British historian, art critic. “Taste: The Story of an Idea,” Taste: The Secret Meaning of Things, Random House (1991)

    Thir dread commander: he above the rest
    In shape and gesture proudly eminent
    Stood like a Towr; his form had yet not lost
    All her Original brightness, nor appear’d
    Less than Arch Angel ruind, and th’ excess
    Of Glory obscur’d: As when the Sun new ris’n
    Looks through the Horizontal misty Air
    Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon
    In dim Eclips disastrous twilight sheds
    On half the Nations, and with fear of change
    Perplexes Monarchs.
    John Milton (1608–1674)