Contemporary autumn gardens are greatly brightened by the sundry colors of cultivated chrysanthemums (C. X morifolium); however, their name comes from the Greek words ‘chrysos’ (gold) and ‘anthos’ (flower) because native species in China were just yellow. For a time, only the nobility in Old China were allowed to grow the sacred chrysanthemum, and the flower was included as one of the four Chinese ‘honorable’ plants, along with orchid, plum, and bamboo.
Buddhist monks brought the chrysanthemum to Japan around 400 C.E., where it later became the emblem of the Japanese emperor to symbolize honor and loyalty. Still today, it is said the Mikado sits upon the ‘Chrysanthemum Throne,’ and the ‘chrysanthemum taboo’ refers to social disapproval of criticizing the Imperial House of Japan. Some say the flag of the Imperial Japanese Navy (now the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force) does not represent a sun with 16 rays, as is commonly believed, but a chrysanthemum with 16 petals reaching toward the sun. This interpretation is plausible, given that in Japan the chrysanthemum is also associated with the sun, and the orderly unfurling of its petals signifies perfect truth. Writes Mandy Kirkby, author of A Victorian Flower Dictionary, “The essence of the
Such imagery was the basis for Victorian meanings assigned to the white chrysanthemum, in particular–truth and loyal love. A suitor might give a bouquet including white mums, asking for an honest declaration of sentiments; a bride would carry a tussie mussie of white chrysanthemums to portray steadfast loyalty to her husband.
In light of the chrysanthemum’s significance in Japan, it is not surprising that it is a recurring image in haiku, a 17-syllable verse form, most often depicting nature and the seasons, which became popular in Japan during the 17th century. Due to its bloom period, the chrysanthemum is usually associated with the fall. White chrysanthemums, specifically, are prevalent signifiers in haiku. The following are three of my favorite examples:
White chrysanthemum…
Before that perfect flower
Scissors hesitate
Buson
White chrysanthemums
Making all else about them
Reflected riches
Chora
Shocking…the red of
Lacquered fingernails against
A white chrysanthemum
Chiyo-ni
As translator Peter Beilenson writes about interpreting haiku, “The reader is supposed to add to the words his own associations and, thus, to become a co-creator of his own pleasure in the poem.” With Beilenson’s advice in mind, the layered meanings of these brief verses become even more richly nuanced if we liken the white chrysanthemum(s) in each to ‘truth.’ What do ‘scissors’ represent in Buson’s poem if they intend to cut away ‘perfect truth’? What lessons can be taken if Chora tells us ‘truth’ illuminates the good in everything? And who, then, owns the red nails that brush up against ‘truth’ so scandalously in Chiyo-ni’s verse?
…What is, indeed, shocking for me is that my chrysanthemums are blooming now. Where did the summer disappear? My mums are telling me to be honest, though, so I must add: a week without weeding sounds truly delicious!
Rhonda Nowak is a teacher, writer and gardener who lives and works in the Rogue Valley. She has taught literature and language arts for 25 years, the last six at Rogue Community College. In addition to her column for the Jacksonville Review, she writes a weekly column and blog called the Literary Gardener for the Mail Tribune. She also writes articles for Southern Oregon Wine Scene magazine and is writer and editor of Ashland Living magazine. Email Rhonda at Rnowak39@gmail.com.
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