"Sometimes, it seems that R. H. Blyth is to modern American haiku as Sigmund Freud is to modern psychology: a bit of a dotty old granddad, overdressed in a woolen suit on a hot, humid day, crumbs of this and that all down his front, with a glint in his eye of philosophical shenanigans none too pleasing to the parents in attendance.
Of course, all the grand kids are jumping up and down in his lap like there's no tomorrow."
Hmm -- taken out of the context of the full essay that sounds more negative than it should (funny and accurate as it is). The piece turns into more of an appreciation as it goes on, though.
For the full post, check out http://lilliputreview.blogspot.com/2012/05/r-h-blyth-aim-of-haiku.html.
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