Literary Pieces

in the
Philippines

My Last Farewell
Dr. Jose P. Rizal
Farewell, dear Fatherland, clime of the sun caressd,
Pearl of the Orient seas, our Eden lost!
Gladly now I go to give thee this faded lifes best,
And were it brighter, fresher, or more blest,
Still would I give it thee, nor count the cost.
On the field of battle, mid the frenzy of fight,
Others have given their lives, without doubt or heed;
The place matters notcypress or laurel or lily white,
Scaffold of open plain, combat or martyrdoms plight,
Tis ever the same, to serve our home and countrys need.
I die just when I see the dawn break,
Through the gloom of night, to herald the day;
And if color is lacking my blood thou shalt take,
Pourd out at need for thy dear sake,
To dye with its crimson the waking ray.
My dreams, when life first opened to me,
My dreams, when the hopes of youth beat high,
Were to see thy lovd face, O gem of the Orient sea,
From gloom and grief, from care and sorrow free;
No blush on thy brow, no tear in thine eye
Dream of my life, my living and burning desire,
All hail! Cries the soul that is now to take flight;
All hail! And sweet it is for thee to expire;
To die for thy sake, that thou mayst aspire;
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And sleep in thy bosom eternitys long night.

If over my grave some day thou seest grow,
In the grassy sod, a humble flower,
Draw it to thy lips and kiss my soul so,
While I may feel on my brow in the cold tomb below
The touch of thy tenderness, thy breaths warm power.
Let the moon beam over me soft and serene,
Let the dawn shed over me its radiant flashes,
Let the wind with sad lament over me keen;
And if on my cross a bird should be seen,
Let it trill there its hymn of peace to my ashes.
Let the sun draw the vapors up to the sky,
And heavenward in purity bear my tardy protest;
Let some kind soul oer my untimely fate sigh,
And in the still evening a prayer be lifted on high
From thee, O my country, that in God I may rest.
Pray for all those that hapless have died,
For all who have suffered the unmeasurd pain;
For our mothers that bitterly their woes have cried,
For widows and orphans, for captives by torture tried;
And then for thyself that redemption thou mayst gain.
And when the dark night wraps the graveyard around,
With only the dead in their vigil to see;
Break not my repose or the mystery profound,
And perchance thou mayst hear a sad hymn resound;
Tis I, O my country, raising a song unto thee.
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When even my grave is remembered no more,

Unmarkd by never a cross nor a stone;
Let the plow sweep through it, the spade turn it oer,
That my ashes may carpet thy earthly floor,
Before into nothingness at last they are blown.
Then will oblivion bring to me no care,
As over thy vales and plains I sweep;
Throbbing and cleansed in thy space and air,
With color and light, with song and lament I fare,
Ever repeating the faith that I keep.
My Fatherland adord, that sadness to my sorrow lends,
Beloved Filipinas, hear now my last good-by!
I give thee all: parents and kindred and friends;
For I go where no slave before the oppressor bends,
Where faith can never kill, and God reigns eer on high!
Farewell to you all, from my soul torn away,
Friends of my childhood in the home dispossessed!
Give thanks that I rest from the wearisome day!
Farewell to thee, too, sweet friend that lightened my way;
Beloved creatures all, farewell! In death there is rest!

Dr. Jose P. Rizal

Synopsis
Jos Rizal was born on June 19, 1861, in Calamba, Philippines. While living in Europe, Rizal
wrote about the discrimination that accompanied Spains colonial rule of his country. He returned
to the Philippines in 1892, but was exiled due to his desire for reform. Although he supported
peaceful change, Rizal was convicted of sedition and executed on December 30, 1896, at age 35.
Early Life
On June 19, 1861, Jos Protasio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda was born in Calamba in the
Philippines Laguna Province. A brilliant student who became proficient in multiple languages,
Jos Rizal studied medicine in Manila. In 1882, he traveled to Spain to complete his medical
degree.
Writing and Reform
While in Europe, Jos Rizal became part of the Propaganda Movement, connecting with other
Filipinos who wanted reform. He also wrote his first novel, Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not/The
Social Cancer), a work that detailed the dark aspects of Spains colonial rule in the Philippines,
with particular focus on the role of Catholic friars. The book was banned in the Philippines,

though copies were smuggled in. Because of this novel, Rizals return to the Philippines in 1887
was cut short when he was targeted by police.
Rizal returned to Europe and continued to write, releasing his follow-up novel, El Filibusterismo
(The Reign of Greed) in 1891. He also published articles in La Solidaridad, a paper aligned with
the Propaganda Movement. The reforms Rizal advocated for did not include independencehe
called for equal treatment of Filipinos, limiting the power of Spanish friars and representation for
the Philippines in the Spanish Cortes (Spains parliament).
Exile in the Philippines
Rizal returned to the Philippines in 1892, feeling he needed to be in the country to effect change.
Although the reform society he founded, the Liga Filipino (Philippine League), supported nonviolent action, Rizal was still exiled to Dapitan, on the island of Mindanao. During the four years
Rizal was in exile, he practiced medicine and took on students.
Execution and Legacy
In 1895, Rizal asked for permission to travel to Cuba as an army doctor. His request was
approved, but in August 1896, Katipunan, a nationalist Filipino society founded by Andres
Bonifacio, revolted. Though he had no ties to the group, and disapproved of its violent methods,
Rizal was arrested shortly thereafter.
After a show trial, Rizal was convicted of sedition and sentenced to death by firing squad. Rizals
public execution was carried out in Manila on December 30, 1896, when he was 35 years old.
His execution created more opposition to Spanish rule.
Spains control of the Philippines ended in 1898, though the country did not gain lasting
independence until after World War II. Rizal remains a nationalist icon in the Philippines for
helping the country take its first steps toward independence.

Reflection:

To Celia
Francisco Balagtas Baltazar

If I recall and read again

those days in loves long-faded script,
would there be not a mark or trace
but Celias, imprinted on my breast?
The Celia whom Ive always
feared might forget our love,
who took me down these hapless depths,
the only reason for this turn of fate.
Again would I neglect to read
the pages of our tenderness,
or call to mind the love she poured,
the bitter struggle I gave for it?
Our sweet days gone,
my love is all thats left;
ever shall it dwell within
till Im laid down in my grave.
Now as I lie in loneliness,
behold wherein I seek relief:
each bygone day I revisit, I find
joy in the likeness of your face.
This likeness painted with love
and longing has lodged within
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my heart, sole token left with me

not even death can steal.
My soul haunts the paths
and fields you blessed with your footsteps;
and to Beata River and shallow Hilom stream
my heart never fails to wander.
Not rarely now my vagrant grief
sits under the mango tree we passed,
and looking at the dainty fruits
you wanted picked I forget my ache.
The whole of me could only
be intimate with sighs when you were ill;
for I knew as Eden kept a room us,
my hidden hurt was heaven still.
I woo your image that resides
in the Makati river we frequented;
to the happy berth of boats I trace your steps,
among the stones that touched your feet.
All these return before me now,
the joy of years, the blissful past,
where I would soak and steep myself
before Im caught in brackish neap.
Always I could hear what you would say:
Three days and our eyes wont meet.
And the eager answer from my leaping heart:
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Theres only me but you prepare a feast.

So what was there in our
joyful past that memory could miss:
in constant retrun the tears do flow,
I sigh and weep: O hapless fate!
Where is Celia, joy of my heart?
Why could our blissful love not last?
Where is the time when just her look
was heavens glimpse, my soul, my life?
Why, when we parted,
did this luckless life not cease?
Your memory is death, O Celia,
but in my heart you will not fade.
This long torment you brought,
I couldnt bear, O departed Joy;
but it took me by the hand to poetry and song,
about a life so trodden low, now lost.
Celia, my messages are mute,
my muse is dumb, her voice faint;
without my taunt she would not speak,
pray listen to me with mind and ear.
This first spring that breaks
from my parched mind I offer at your feet:
deign receive, from this kneeling heart,
even if you wont savor it.
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If all this fell into slur and insult,

my gain is great from invested effort,
if complaint it is you now peruse,
remember, too, it is the authors gift.
O joyful nymphs of Bai, the placid lake,
Sirens whose voices bring music to my ears,
I come now to your sparkling shrine,
my forlorn muse implores you.
Rise now to shore and field,
accompany with lyre this humble song
that speaks: if fate this life may snip,
its fervent wish is that love wont cease.
Gleaming bloom of my mind,
Celia whose symbols are M, A, and R;
here I am adoring at the Virgin Madonnas
altar, F and B, your loyal servant.

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Francisco Balagtas Baltazar

Francisco Baltazar y dela Cruz, known much more widely through his nom-de-plume Francisco
Balagtas, was a prominent Filipino poet, and is widely considered as the Tagalog equivalent of
William Shakespeare for his impact on Filipino literature. The famous epic, Florante at Laura, is
regarded as his defining work.
Early life
Francisco Baltazar was born on April 2, 1788 in Barrio Panginay, Bigaa, Bulacan as the youngest
of the four children of Juan Baltazar, a blacksmith, and Juana de la Cruz. He studied in a
parochial school in Bigaa and later in Manila. During his childhood years. Francisco later
worked as houseboy in Tondo, Manila.
Awards and titles
The popular Filipino debate form Balagtasan is named after Balagtas. Balagtas also won an
award during his schooldays and graduated valedictorian in Madrid. He was recognized by the
Pahayagang Kastilyano (Spanish Declaration) and became the front cover for two weeks.
Life as a poet
Balagtas learned to write poetry from Jos de la Cruz (Huseng Sisiw), one of the most famous
poets of Tondo. It was de la Cruz himself who personally challenged Balagtas to improve his
writing. (source: Talambuhay ng mga Bayani, for Grade 6 textbook) In 1835, Balagtas moved to
Pandacan, where he met Mara Asuncin Rivera, who would effectively serve as the muse for his
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future works. She is referenced in Florante at Laura as 'Celia' and 'MAR'. Balagtas' affections for
MAR were challenged by the influential Mariano Capule. Capule won the battle for MAR when
he used his wealth to get Balagtas imprisoned under the accusation that he ordered a servant
girl's head be shaved. It was here that he wrote Florante at Laur. In fact, the events of this poem
were meant to parallel his own situation.He wrote his poems in Tagalog, during an age when
Filipino writing was predominantly written in Spanish. Balagtas published Florante at Laura
upon his release in 1838. He moved to Balanga, Bataan in 1840 where he served as the assistant
to the Justice of peace and later, in 1856, as the Major Lieutenant. He was also appointed as the
translator of the court. He married Juana Tiambeng on July 22, 1842 in a ceremony officiated by
Fr. Cayetano Arellano, uncle of future Philippine Supreme Court Chief Justice Cayetano
Arellano. They had eleven children but only four survived to adulthood. He died on February 20,
1862 at the age of 73. Upon his deathbed, he asked a favor that none of his children become
poets like him, who had suffered under his gift as well as under others. He even went as far as to
tell them it would be better to cut their hands off than let them be writers. Balagtas is so greatly
revered in the Philippines that the term for Filipino debate in extemporaneous verse is named for
him: balagtasan.
Legacy
An elementary school was erected in honor of Balagtas, the Francisco Balagtas Elementary
School (FBES), located along Alvarez Street in Santa Cruz, Manila. There is also a plaza and
park (Plaza Balagtas) erected in Pandacan, Manila while most of the streets were named after
various Florante at Laura characters in honor of Francisco Balagtas. His birthplace, Bigaa,
Bulacan, was renamed to Balagtas, Bulacan in honor of him. His great-grandson and heir,
Richard Balagtas, is currently a high school student in New York City. He possesses the same
interest in poetry and learning as his great-grandfather and will hopefully be attending Johns
Hopkins University on the fall of 2012.

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Reflection:

14

An Arm's Length Piece of the Sky

Amado V. Hernandez
I am held by an evil leader
seeking to cage my thoughts,
a body weak, he says, is surrender,
emotions suppressed, advocacy hindered.
I am kept in a cruel place:
rock, steel, bullets, ferocious guards;
isolated from the world
alive, treated as dead.
From the little window, my sole consolation
is an arm's length piece of the sky, full of tears,
a paltry handkerchip to dress a wounded heart,
flag of my misfortune.
Sharp as lightning are the guards' eyes,
at the gates, with keys, no one can go near;
the scream from a nearby cell
resembles a cave animal's howl.
Days pass like a chain
dragged along by bloody feet,
the nights are a blanket of sorrow
in the coffin-like realm of the jail.
Sometimes, quiet footsteps pass,
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with a line ofrattling, clinking chains;

to the pale sun momentarily exposed,
a thousand shadows escape.
Sometimes, the night is awakened
by an alarm - an escapee! - gunfire!
sometimes the old bell cries,
at the execution den, someone lies dying.
And this is my only world nowthe prison house, a graveyard of the living;
ten, twenty, and all of my years
my whole life will be here.
But a resolute mind knows not fear nor agony
and hope still springs in my heart:
imprisonment is part of the struggle,
jail, the fate of the embattled.
Man and God do not sleep
the unfortunate won't stay oppressed,
tyranny has a price to pay,
while a Bastille exists, people will resist.
And tomorrow, in this very place, I will see
an arm's length piece of the sky with no more tears,
the golden sun of victory will shine...
free, freedom I'll embrace!

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Amado V. Hernandez
Amado V . Hernandez (Amado Vera Hernandez) aka Amante Hernani, Herminia dela Riva, Julio
Abril. b. Tondo, Manila 13 Sept 1903 d. Manila 24 March 1970. National Artist in Literature. He
is the son of Juan Hernandez and Clara Vera. He married sarswela actor and kundiman queen
Atang dela Rama. He studied in Gagalangin, Tondo, the Manila High School, and the American
Correspondence School where he finished a bachelor of arts degree. He began his writing career,
as a journalist and later editor of various pre-WWII Tagalog newspapers, like Watawat,
Pagkakaisa, Makabayan, Sampaguita and Mabuhay Extra. He joined the Akademya ng Wikang
Tagalog and the Manila Press Club, During WWII; he served as an intelligence officer for the
resistance. After the war, he was appointed and elected as councilor of Manila in 1945 and 1947,
respectively. He sponsored ordinances aimed at promoting worker's rights and freedom. As he
immersed himself in the labor movement in the late 1940's and early 1950's, Hernandez's
sympathy for the working class grew into strong identification with their struggle for social
justice and liberation. He represented the Newspaper Guild of the Philippine in the country's
biggest and most militant labor federation, the Congress of Labor Organizations (CLO). In 1947,
he was elected the president of the CLO. Because of pursuing the worker's cause, he was
imprisoned in 1951 for alleged subversive activities. He was released on parole in 1956 after five
years and six months of detention, and was finally acquitted of all charges in 1964. He returned
to journalistic practice, writing as a columnist for Taliba from 1962 to 1967, serving as editor of
the radical newspaper, Ang Masa , until his death 1970.

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Reflection:

18

Literary
Pieces
in
English
19

HAMLET
William Shakespeare
On a dark winter night, a ghost walks the ramparts of Elsinore Castle in Denmark. Discovered
first by a pair of watchmen, then by the scholar Horatio, the ghost resembles the recently
deceased King Hamlet, whose brother Claudius has inherited the throne and married the kings
widow, Queen Gertrude. When Horatio and the watchmen bring Prince Hamlet, the son of
Gertrude and the dead king, to see the ghost, it speaks to him, declaring ominously that it is
indeed his fathers spirit, and that he was murdered by none other than Claudius. Ordering
Hamlet to seek revenge on the man who usurped his throne and married his wife, the ghost
disappears with the dawn.
Prince Hamlet devotes himself to avenging his fathers death, but, because he is contemplative
and thoughtful by nature, he delays, entering into a deep melancholy and even apparent madness.
Claudius and Gertrude worry about the princes erratic behavior and attempt to discover its
cause. They employ a pair of Hamlets friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, to watch him.
When Polonius, the pompous Lord Chamberlain, suggests that Hamlet may be mad with love for
his daughter, Ophelia, Claudius agrees to spy on Hamlet in conversation with the girl. But
though Hamlet certainly seems mad, he does not seem to love Ophelia: he orders her to enter a
nunnery and declares that he wishes to ban marriages.
A group of traveling actors comes to Elsinore, and Hamlet seizes upon an idea to test his uncles
guilt. He will have the players perform a scene closely resembling the sequence by which Hamlet
imagines his uncle to have murdered his father, so that if Claudius is guilty, he will surely react.
When the moment of the murder arrives in the theater, Claudius leaps up and leaves the room.
Hamlet and Horatio agree that this proves his guilt. Hamlet goes to kill Claudius but finds him
praying. Since he believes that killing Claudius while in prayer would send Claudiuss soul to
heaven, Hamlet considers that it would be an inadequate revenge and decides to wait. Claudius,
now frightened of Hamlets madness and fearing for his own safety, orders that Hamlet be sent to
England at once.
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Hamlet goes to confront his mother, in whose bedchamber Polonius has hidden behind a tapestry.
Hearing a noise from behind the tapestry, Hamlet believes the king is hiding there. He draws his
sword and stabs through the fabric, killing Polonius. For this crime, he is immediately dispatched
to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. However, Claudiuss plan for Hamlet includes
more than banishment, as he has given Rosencrantz and Guildenstern sealed orders for the King
of England demanding that Hamlet be put to death.
In the aftermath of her fathers death, Ophelia goes mad with grief and drowns in the river.
Poloniuss son, Laertes, who has been staying in France, returns to Denmark in a rage. Claudius
convinces him that Hamlet is to blame for his fathers and sisters deaths. When Horatio and the
king receive letters from Hamlet indicating that the prince has returned to Denmark after pirates
attacked his ship en route to England, Claudius concocts a plan to use Laertes desire for revenge
to secure Hamlets death. Laertes will fence with Hamlet in innocent sport, but Claudius will
poison Laertes blade so that if he draws blood, Hamlet will die. As a backup plan, the king
decides to poison a goblet, which he will give Hamlet to drink should Hamlet score the first or
second hits of the match. Hamlet returns to the vicinity of Elsinore just as Ophelias funeral is
taking place. Stricken with grief, he attacks Laertes and declares that he had in fact always loved
Ophelia. Back at the castle, he tells Horatio that he believes one must be prepared to die, since
death can come at any moment. A foolish courtier named Osric arrives on Claudiuss orders to
arrange the fencing match between Hamlet and Laertes.
The sword-fighting begins. Hamlet scores the first hit, but declines to drink from the kings
proffered goblet. Instead, Gertrude takes a drink from it and is swiftly killed by the poison.
Laertes succeeds in wounding Hamlet, though Hamlet does not die of the poison immediately.
First, Laertes is cut by his own swords blade, and, after revealing to Hamlet that Claudius is
responsible for the queens death, he dies from the blades poison. Hamlet then stabs Claudius
through with the poisoned sword and forces him to drink down the rest of the poisoned wine.
Claudius dies, and Hamlet dies immediately after achieving his revenge.

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At this moment, a Norwegian prince named Fortinbras, who has led an army to Denmark and
attacked Poland earlier in the play, enters with ambassadors from England, who report that
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Fortinbras is stunned by the gruesome sight of the entire
royal family lying sprawled on the floor dead. He moves to take power of the kingdom. Horatio,
fulfilling Hamlets last request, tells him Hamlets tragic story. Fortinbras orders that Hamlet be
carried away in a manner befitting a fallen soldier.

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William Shakespeare
Within the class system of Elizabethan England, William Shakespeare did not seem destined for
greatness. He was not born into a family of nobility or significant wealth. He did not continue his
formal education at university, nor did he come under the mentorship of a senior artist, nor did he
marry into wealth or prestige. His talent as an actor seems to have been modest, since he is not
known for starring roles. His success as a playwright depended in part upon royal patronage. Yet
in spite of these limitations, Shakespeare is now the most performed and read playwright in the
world. Born to John Shakespeare, a glovemaker and tradesman, and Mary Arden, the daughter of
an affluent farmer, William Shakespeare was baptized on April 26, 1564, in Stratford-uponAvon. At that time, infants were baptized three days after their birth, thus scholars believe that
Shakespeare was born on April 23, the same day on which he died at age 52. As the third of eight
children, young William grew up in this small town 100 miles northwest of London, far from the
cultural and courtly center of England.
Shakespeare attended the local grammar school, King's New School, where the curriculum
would have stressed a classical education of Greek mythology, Roman comedy, ancient history,
rhetoric, grammar, Latin, and possibly Greek. Throughout his childhood, Shakespeare's father
struggled with serious financial debt. Therefore, unlike his fellow playwright Christopher
Marlowe, he did not attend university. Rather, in 1582 at age 18, he married Anne Hathaway, a
woman eight years his senior and three months pregnant. Their first child, Susanna, was born in
1583, and twins, Hamnet and Judith, came in 1585. In the seven years following their birth, the

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historical record concerning Shakespeare is incomplete, contradictory, and unreliable; scholars

refer to this period as his lost years.
Reflection:

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DOCTOR FAUSTUS
Christopher Marlowe
Doctor Faustus, a well-respected German scholar, grows dissatisfied with the limits of traditional
forms of knowledgelogic, medicine, law, and religionand decides that he wants to learn to
practice magic. His friends Valdes and Cornelius instruct him in the black arts, and he begins his
new career as a magician by summoning up Mephastophilis, a devil. Despite Mephastophiliss
warnings about the horrors of hell, Faustus tells the devil to return to his master, Lucifer, with an
offer of Faustuss soul in exchange for twenty-four years of service from Mephastophilis.
Meanwhile, Wagner, Faustuss servant, has picked up some magical ability and uses it to press a
clown named Robin into his service.
Mephastophilis returns to Faustus with word that Lucifer has accepted Faustuss offer. Faustus
experiences some misgivings and wonders if he should repent and save his soul; in the end,
though, he agrees to the deal, signing it with his blood. As soon as he does so, the words Homo
fuge, Latin for O man, fly, appear branded on his arm. Faustus again has second thoughts, but
Mephastophilis bestows rich gifts on him and gives him a book of spells to learn. Later,
Mephastophilis answers all of his questions about the nature of the world, refusing to answer
only when Faustus asks him who made the universe. This refusal prompts yet another bout of
misgivings in Faustus, but Mephastophilis and Lucifer bring in personifications of the Seven
Deadly Sins to prance about in front of Faustus, and he is impressed enough to quiet his doubts.
Armed with his new powers and attended by Mephastophilis, Faustus begins to travel. He goes
to the popes court in Rome, makes himself invisible, and plays a series of tricks. He disrupts the
popes banquet by stealing food and boxing the popes ears. Following this incident, he travels
through the courts of Europe, with his fame spreading as he goes. Eventually, he is invited to the
court of the German emperor, Charles V (the enemy of the pope), who asks Faustus to allow him
to see Alexander the Great, the famed fourth-century B.C. Macedonian king and conqueror.
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Faustus conjures up an image of Alexander, and Charles is suitably impressed. A knight scoffs at
Faustuss powers, and Faustus chastises him by making antlers sprout from his head. Furious, the
knight vows revenge.
Meanwhile, Robin, Wagners clown, has picked up some magic on his own, and with his fellow
stablehand, Rafe, he undergoes a number of comic misadventures. At one point, he manages to
summon Mephastophilis, who threatens to turn Robin and Rafe into animals (or perhaps even
does transform them; the text isnt clear) to punish them for their foolishness.
Faustus then goes on with his travels, playing a trick on a horse-courser along the way. Faustus
sells him a horse that turns into a heap of straw when ridden into a river. Eventually, Faustus is
invited to the court of the Duke of Vanholt, where he performs various feats. The horse-courser
shows up there, along with Robin, a man named Dick (Rafe in the A text), and various others
who have fallen victim to Faustuss trickery. But Faustus casts spells on them and sends them on
their way, to the amusement of the duke and duchess.
As the twenty-four years of his deal with Lucifer come to a close, Faustus begins to dread his
impending death. He has Mephastophilis call up Helen of Troy, the famous beauty from the
ancient world, and uses her presence to impress a group of scholars. An old man urges Faustus to
repent, but Faustus drives him away. Faustus summons Helen again and exclaims rapturously
about her beauty. But time is growing short. Faustus tells the scholars about his pact, and they are
horror-stricken and resolve to pray for him. On the final night before the expiration of the
twenty-four years, Faustus is overcome by fear and remorse. He begs for mercy, but it is too late.
At midnight, a host of devils appears and carries his soul off to hell. In the morning, the scholars
find Faustuss limbs and decide to hold a funeral for him.

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Christopher Marlowe
Christopher Marlowe - Mini Biography (TV-PG; 4:13) During Christopher Marlowe's short
career, he produced one of the most controversial and well-known plays of all time, "Doctor
Faustus." The truth behind his sudden death still remains suspicious and unresolved.
Born in Canterbury, England, in 1564. While Christopher Marlowe's literary career lasted less
than six years, and his life only 29 years, his achievements, most notably the play The Tragicall
History of Doctor Faustus, ensured his lasting legacy.
Christopher Marlowe was born in Canterbury around February 26, 1564 (this was the day on
which he was baptized). He went to King's School and was awarded a scholarship that enabled
him to study at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, from late 1580 until 1587.
Marlowe earned his bachelor of arts degree in 1584, but in 1587 the university hesitated in
granting him his master's degree. Its doubts (perhaps arising from his frequent absences, or
speculation that he had converted to Roman Catholicism and would soon attend college
elsewhere) were set to rest, or at least dismissed, when the Privy Council sent a letter declaring
that he was now working "on matters touching the benefit of his country," and he was awarded
his master's degree on schedule.

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Reflection:

28

GULLIVERS TRAVELS
Jonathan Swift
Gullivers Travels recounts the story of Lemuel Gulliver, a practical-minded Englishman trained
as a surgeon who takes to the seas when his business fails. In a deadpan first-person narrative
that rarely shows any signs of self-reflection or deep emotional response, Gulliver narrates the
adventures that befall him on these travels.
Gullivers adventure in Lilliput begins when he wakes after his shipwreck to find himself bound
by innumerable tiny threads and addressed by tiny captors who are in awe of him but fiercely
protective of their kingdom. They are not afraid to use violence against Gulliver, though their
arrows are little more than pinpricks. But overall, they are hospitable, risking famine in their land
by feeding Gulliver, who consumes more food than a thousand Lilliputians combined could.
Gulliver is taken into the capital city by a vast wagon the Lilliputians have specially built. He is
presented to the emperor, who is entertained by Gulliver, just as Gulliver is flattered by the
attention of royalty. Eventually Gulliver becomes a national resource, used by the army in its war
against the people of Blefuscu, whom the Lilliputians hate for doctrinal differences concerning
the proper way to crack eggs. But things change when Gulliver is convicted of treason for
putting out a fire in the royal palace with his urine and is condemned to be shot in the eyes and
starved to death. Gulliver escapes to Blefuscu, where he is able to repair a boat he finds and set
sail for England.
After staying in England with his wife and family for two months, Gulliver undertakes his next
sea voyage, which takes him to a land of giants called Brobdingnag. Here, a field worker
discovers him. The farmer initially treats him as little more than an animal, keeping him for
amusement. The farmer eventually sells Gulliver to the queen, who makes him a courtly
diversion and is entertained by his musical talents. Social life is easy for Gulliver after his
29

discovery by the court, but not particularly enjoyable. Gulliver is often repulsed by the
physicality of the Brobdingnagians, whose ordinary flaws are many times magnified by their
huge size. Thus, when a couple of courtly ladies let him play on their naked bodies, he is not
attracted to them but rather disgusted by their enormous skin pores and the sound of their
torrential urination. He is generally startled by the ignorance of the people hereeven the king
knows nothing about politics. More unsettling findings in Brobdingnag come in the form of
various animals of the realm that endanger his life. Even Brobdingnagian insects leave slimy
trails on his food that make eating difficult. On a trip to the frontier, accompanying the royal
couple, Gulliver leaves Brobdingnag when his cage is plucked up by an eagle and dropped into
the sea.
Next, Gulliver sets sail again and, after an attack by pirates, ends up in Laputa, where a floating
island inhabited by theoreticians and academics oppresses the land below, called Balnibarbi. The
scientific research undertaken in Laputa and in Balnibarbi seems totally inane and impractical,
and its residents too appear wholly out of touch with reality. Taking a short side trip to
Glubbdubdrib, Gulliver is able to witness the conjuring up of figures from history, such as Julius
Caesar and other military leaders, whom he finds much less impressive than in books. After
visiting the Luggnaggians and the Struldbrugs, the latter of which are senile immortals who
prove that age does not bring wisdom, he is able to sail to Japan and from there back to England.
Finally, on his fourth journey, Gulliver sets out as captain of a ship, but after the mutiny of his
crew and a long confinement in his cabin, he arrives in an unknown land. This land is populated
by Houyhnhnms, rational-thinking horses who rule, and by Yahoos, brutish humanlike creatures
who serve the Houyhnhnms. Gulliver sets about learning their language, and when he can speak
he narrates his voyages to them and explains the constitution of England. He is treated with great
courtesy and kindness by the horses and is enlightened by his many conversations with them and
by his exposure to their noble culture. He wants to stay with the Houyhnhnms, but his bared
body reveals to the horses that he is very much like a Yahoo, and he is banished. Gulliver is
grief-stricken but agrees to leave. He fashions a canoe and makes his way to a nearby island,
where he is picked up by a Portuguese ship captain who treats him well, though Gulliver cannot
help now seeing the captainand all humansas shamefully Yahoolike. Gulliver then
30

concludes his narrative with a claim that the lands he has visited belong by rights to England, as
her colonies, even though he questions the whole idea of colonialism.

Jonathan Swift
Born on November 30, 1667, Irish author, clergyman and satirist Jonathan Swift grew up
fatherless. Under the care of his uncle, he received a bachelor's degree from Trinity College and
then worked as a statesman's assistant. Eventually, he became dean of St. Patrick's Cathedral in
Dublin. Most of his writings were published under pseudonyms. He best remembered for his
1726 book Gulliver's Travels.
Irish author and satirist Jonathan Swift was born in Dublin, Ireland on November 30, 1667. His
father, an attorney, also named Jonathan Swift, died just two months before he arrived. Without
steady income, his mother struggled to provide for her newborn. Moreover, Swift was a sickly
child. It was later discovered that he suffered from Meniere's Disease, a condition of the inner ear
that leaves the afflicted nauseous and hard of hearing. In an effort to give her son the best
upbringing possible, Swift's mother gave him over to Godwin Swift, her late husband's brother
and a member of the respected professional attorney and judges group Gray's Inn. Godwin Swift
enrolled his nephew in the Kilkenny Grammar School (16741682), which was perhaps the best
school in Ireland at the time. Swift's transition from a life of poverty to a rigorous private school
setting proved challenging. He did, however, make a fast friend in William Congreve, the future
poet and playwright.
At age 14, Swift commenced his undergraduate studies at Trinity College in Dublin. In 1686, he
received a Bachelor of Arts degree, and went on to pursue a master's. Not long into his research,
31

huge unrest broke out in Ireland. The king of Ireland, England and Scotland was soon to be
overthrown. What became known as the Glorious Revolution of 1688 spurred Swift to move to
England and start anew. His mother found a secretary position for him under the revered English
statesman, Sir William Temple. For 10 years, Swift worked in Surrey's Moor Park and acted as
an assistant to Temple, helping him with political errands, and also in the researching and
publishing of his own essays and memoirs. Temple was impressed by Swift's abilities and after a
time, entrusted him with sensitive and important tasks.
During his Moor Park years, Swift met the daughter of Temple's housekeeper, a girl just 8 years
old named Esther Johnson. When they first met, she was 15 years Swift's junior, but despite the
age gap, they would become lovers for the rest of their lives. When she was a child, he acted as
her mentor and tutor, and gave her the nickname "Stella." When she was of age, they maintained
a close but ambiguous relationship, which lasted until Johnson's death. It was rumored that they
married in 1716, and that Swift kept of lock of Johnson's hair in his possession at all times.

32

Reflection:

33

Literary
Pieces
in
America
34

COMMON SENSE
Thomas Paine
In Common Sense, Thomas Paine argues for American independence. His argument begins with
more general, theoretical reflections about government and religion, then progresses onto the
specifics of the colonial situation.
Paine begins by distinguishing between government and society. Society, according to Paine, is
everything constructive and good that people join together to accomplish. Government, on the
other hand, is an institution whose sole purpose is to protect us from our own vices. Government
has its origins in the evil of man and is therefore a necessary evil at best. Paine says that
government's sole purpose is to protect life, liberty and property, and that a government should
be judged solely on the basis of the extent to which it accomplishes this goal.
Paine then considers an imagined scenario in which a small group of people has been placed on
an island, and cut off from the rest of society. In time, these people develop ties with one another,
and lawmaking becomes inevitable. Paine says the people will be much happier if they are
responsible for the creation of the laws that rule them. Paine is also implicitly arguing that such a
system of representation is also better for the American colonists. Having expressed his
disagreement with British reign in America, Paine proceeds to launch a general attack on the
British system of government. Paine says the British system is too complex and rife with
contradictions, and that the monarchy is granted far too much power. The British system pretends
to offer a reasonable system of checks and balances, but in fact, it does not.

35

From here Paine moves on to discuss, in general, the notions of monarchy and hereditary
succession. Man, Pain argues, was born into a state of equality, and the distinction that has arisen
between king and subject is an unnatural one. At first, Paine says, the world was without kings,
but the ancient Jews decided they wanted a king. This angered God, but he allowed them to have
one. Paine presents pages of biblical evidence detailing God's wrath at the idea of the Jews
having a king. The conclusion Paine reaches is that the practice of monarchy originates from sin,
and is an institution that the Bible and God condemn. Paine calls hereditary succession an
abominable practice. He says that even if people were to choose to have a king, that does not
legitimize that King's child acting as a future ruler. Furthermore, hereditary succession has
brought with it innumerable evils, such as incompetent kings, corruption, and civil war.
Having dispensed with the preliminary theoretical issues, Paine sets in to discuss the details of
the American situation. In response to the argument that America has flourished under British
rule, and therefore ought to stay under the king, Paine says that such an argument fails to realize
that America has evolved and no longer needs Britain's help. Some say that Britain has protected
America, and therefore deserves allegiance, but Paine responds that Britain has only watched
over America in order to secure its own economic well-being. Paine adds that most recently,
instead of watching over the colonies, the British have been attacking them, and are therefore
undeserving of American loyalty.
Paine says that the colonies have little to gain from remaining attached to Britain. Commerce can
be better conducted with the rest of Europe, but only after America becomes independent. Paine
also asserts that if the colonies remain attached to Britain, the same problems that have arisen in
the past will arise in the future. Paine argues that it is necessary to seek independence now, as to
do otherwise would only briefly cover up problems that will surely reemerge.
Paine even proposes the form of government that the independent colonies should adopt. His
recommendation is for a representative democracy that gives roughly equal weight to each of the
colonies.

36

Paine explains why the current time is a good time to break free of Britain. Primarily, Paine
focuses on the present size of the colonies, and on their current capabilities. He presents an
inventory of the British Navy and gives calculations revealing how America could build a navy
of comparable size. Paine recommends this as a way of ensuring America's security and
prosperity in trade. Paine also argues that America is sufficiently small as to be united now. If
time were to elapse, and the population of the colonies to grow, the same feeling of unity would
not be present. Paine adds that if the Americans revolt now, they can use the vast expanses of
uncharted land to the West in order to pay down some of the debt they will incur.
Paine says that as a colony of Britain, America lacks respectability on the international scene.
They are seen simply as rebels, and cannot form substantial alliances with other nations. In order
to prosper in the long term, the colonies need to be independent. Paine says that, by declaring
independence, America will be able to ask for the help of other countries in its struggle for
freedom. For all of these reasons, Paine says it is imperative and urgent that the colonies declare
independence.

37

Thomas Paine
Thomas Paine was born on the twenty-ninth of January 1737 at Thetford, Norfolk in England, as
a son of a Quaker. After a short basic education, he started to work, at first for his father, later as
an officer of the excise. During this occupation Thomas Paine was an unsuccesfull man, and was
twice dismissed from his post. In 1774, he met Benjamin Franklin in London, who advised him
to emigrate to America, giving him letters of recommandation.
Paine landed at Philadelphia on November 30, 1774. Starting over as a publicist, he first
published his African Slavery in America, in the spring of 1775, criticizing slavery in America as
being unjust and inhumane. At this time he also had become co-editor of the Pennsylvania
Magazine On arriving in Philadelphia, Paine had sensed the rise of tension, and the spirit of
rebellion, that had steadily mounted in the Colonies after the Boston Teaparty and when the
fightings had started, in April 1775, with the battles of Lexington and Concord. In Paine's view
the Colonies had all the right to revolt against a government that imposed taxes on them but
which did not give them the right of representation in the Parliament at Westminster. But he went
38

even further: for him there was no reason for the Colonies to stay dependent on England. On
January 10, 1776 Paine formulated his ideas on american independence in his pamphlet Common
Sense.
In his Common Sense, Paine states that sooner or later independence from England must come,
because America had lost touch with the mother country. In his words, all the arguments for
separation of England are based on nothing more than simple facts, plain arguments and common
sense. Government was necessary evil that could only become safe when it was representative
and altered by frequent elections. The function of government in society ought to be only
regulating and therefore as simple as possible. Not suprisingly, but nevertheless remarkable was
his call for a declaration of independence. Due to the many copies sold (500.000) Paine's
influence on the Declaration of Independence of July 4, 1776 is eminent. Another sign of his
great influence is the number of loyalist reactions to Common Sense.
During the War of Independence Paine volunteered in the Continental Army and started with the
writing of his highly influencial sixteen American Crisis papers, which he published between
1776 and 1783. In 1777 he became Secretary of the Committee of Foreign Affairs in Congress,
but already in 1779 he was forced to resign because he had disclosed secret information. In the
following nine years he worked as a clerck at the Pennsylvania Assembly and published several
of his writings.
In 1787 Thomas Paine left for England, innitialy to raise funds for the building of a bridge he
had designed, but after the outbreak of the French Revolution he became deeply involved in it.
Between March 1791 and February 1792 he published numerous editions of his Rights of Man,
in which he defended the French Revolution against the attacks by Edmund Burke, in his
Reflections on the Revolution in France. But it was more then a defence of the French
Revolution: An analysis of the roots of the discontent in Europe, which he laid in arbitrary
government, poverty, illiteracy, unemployment and war. The book being banned in England
because it opposed to monarchy, Paine failed to be arrested because he was already on his way to
France, having been ellected in the National Convention. Though a true republicanist, he was
imprisoned in 1793 under Robespierre, because he had voted against the execution of the
39

dethroned king Louis XVI. During his imprisonment the publication of his Age of Reason
started. Age of Reason was written in praise of the achievements of the Age of Enlightment, and
it was om this book that he was acussed of being an atheist.
After his release he stayed in France until 1802, when he sailed back to America, after an
invitation by Thomas Jefferson who had met him before when he was minister in Paris and who
admirred him. Back in the United States he learned that he was seen as a great infidel, or simply
forgotten for what he had done for America. He continued his critical writings, for instance
against the Federalists and on religious superstition.
After his death in New York City on June 8, 1809 the newspapers read: He had lived long, did
some good and much harm, which time judged to be an unworthy epitaph.

40

Reflection:

41

Annabel Lee
BY EDGAR ALLAN POE
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love
I and my Annabel Lee
With a love that the wingd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
42

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes!that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darlingmy darlingmy life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

43

Edgar Allan Poe

Born January 19, 1809, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S. American short-story writer, poet, critic,
and editor Edgar Allan Poe's tales of mystery and horror initiated the modern detective story, and
the atmosphere in his tales of horror is unrivaled in American fiction. His The Raven (1845)
numbers among the best-known poems in national literature.
With his short stories and poems, Edgar Allan Poe captured the imagination and interest of
readers around the world. His creative talents led to the beginning of different literary genres,
earning him the nickname "Father of the Detective Story" among other distinctions. His life,
however, has become a bit of mystery itself. And the lines between fact and fiction have been
blurred substantially since his death.
The son of actors, Poe never really knew his parents. His father left the family early on, and his
mother passed away when he was only three. Separated from his siblings, Poe went to live with
John and Frances Allan, a successful tobacco merchant and his wife, in Richmond, Virginia. He
44

and Frances seemed to form a bond, but he never quite meshed with John. Preferring poetry over
profits, Poe reportedly wrote poems on the back of some of Allan's business papers.
Money was also an issue between Poe and John Allan. When Poe went to the University of
Virginia in 1826, he didn't receive enough funds from Allan to cover all his costs. Poe turned to
gambling to cover the difference, but ended up in debt. He returned home only to face another
personal setbackhis neighbor and fiance Elmira Royster had become engaged to someone
else. Heartbroken and frustrated, Poe left the Allans.

Reflection:

45

MOBY-DICK
Herman Melville
Ishmael, the narrator, announces his intent to ship aboard a whaling vessel. He has made several
voyages as a sailor but none as a whaler. He travels to New Bedford, Massachusetts, where he
stays in a whalers inn. Since the inn is rather full, he has to share a bed with a harpooner from
the South Pacific named Queequeg. At first repulsed by Queequegs strange habits and shocking
appearance (Queequeg is covered with tattoos), Ishmael eventually comes to appreciate the
mans generosity and kind spirit, and the two decide to seek work on a whaling vessel together.
They take a ferry to Nantucket, the traditional capital of the whaling industry. There they secure
berths on the Pequod, a savage-looking ship adorned with the bones and teeth of sperm whales.
Peleg and Bildad, the Pequods Quaker owners, drive a hard bargain in terms of salary. They also
mention the ships mysterious captain, Ahab, who is still recovering from losing his leg in an
encounter with a sperm whale on his last voyage.
The Pequod leaves Nantucket on a cold Christmas Day with a crew made up of men from many
different countries and races. Soon the ship is in warmer waters, and Ahab makes his first
appearance on deck, balancing gingerly on his false leg, which is made from a sperm whales
jaw. He announces his desire to pursue and kill Moby Dick, the legendary great white whale who
took his leg, because he sees this whale as the embodiment of evil. Ahab nails a gold doubloon to
the mast and declares that it will be the prize for the first man to sight the whale. As the Pequod
sails toward the southern tip of Africa, whales are sighted and unsuccessfully hunted. During the
46

hunt, a group of men, none of whom anyone on the ships crew has seen before on the voyage,
emerges from the hold. The mens leader is an exotic-looking man named Fedallah. These men
constitute Ahabs private harpoon crew, smuggled aboard in defiance of Bildad and Peleg. Ahab
hopes that their skills and Fedallahs prophetic abilities will help him in his hunt for Moby Dick.
The Pequod rounds Africa and enters the Indian Ocean. A few whales are successfully caught
and processed for their oil. From time to time, the ship encounters other whaling vessels. Ahab
always demands information about Moby Dick from their captains. One of the ships, the
Jeroboam, carries Gabriel, a crazed prophet who predicts doom for anyone who threatens Moby
Dick. His predictions seem to carry some weight, as those aboard his ship who have hunted the
whale have met disaster. While trying to drain the oil from the head of a captured sperm whale,
Tashtego, one of the Pequods harpooners, falls into the whales voluminous head, which then
rips free of the ship and begins to sink. Queequeg saves Tashtego by diving into the ocean and
cutting into the slowly sinking head.
During another whale hunt, Pip, the Pequods black cabin boy, jumps from a whaleboat and is
left behind in the middle of the ocean. He goes insane as the result of the experience and
becomes a crazy but prophetic jester for the ship. Soon after, the Pequod meets the Samuel
Enderby, a whaling ship whose skipper, Captain Boomer, has lost an arm in an encounter with
Moby Dick. The two captains discuss the whale; Boomer, happy simply to have survived his
encounter, cannot understand Ahabs lust for vengeance. Not long after, Queequeg falls ill and
has the ships carpenter make him a coffin in anticipation of his death. He recovers, however, and
the coffin eventually becomes the Pequods replacement life buoy.
Ahab orders a harpoon forged in the expectation that he will soon encounter Moby Dick. He
baptizes the harpoon with the blood of the Pequods three harpooners. The Pequod kills several
more whales. Issuing a prophecy about Ahabs death, Fedallah declares that Ahab will first see
two hearses, the second of which will be made only from American wood, and that he will be
killed by hemp rope. Ahab interprets these words to mean that he will not die at sea, where there
are no hearses and no hangings. A typhoon hits the Pequod, illuminating it with electrical fire.
Ahab takes this occurrence as a sign of imminent confrontation and success, but Starbuck, the
47

ships first mate, takes it as a bad omen and considers killing Ahab to end the mad quest. After
the storm ends, one of the sailors falls from the ships masthead and drownsa grim
foreshadowing of what lies ahead.
Ahabs fervent desire to find and destroy Moby Dick continues to intensify, and the mad Pip is
now his constant companion. The Pequod approaches the equator, where Ahab expects to find
the great whale. The ship encounters two more whaling ships, the Rachel and the Delight, both of
which have recently had fatal encounters with the whale. Ahab finally sights Moby Dick. The
harpoon boats are launched, and Moby Dick attacks Ahabs harpoon boat, destroying it. The next
day, Moby Dick is sighted again, and the boats are lowered once more. The whale is harpooned,
but Moby Dick again attacks Ahabs boat. Fedallah, trapped in the harpoon line, is dragged
overboard to his death. Starbuck must maneuver the Pequod between Ahab and the angry whale.
On the third day, the boats are once again sent after Moby Dick, who once again attacks them.
The men can see Fedallahs corpse lashed to the whale by the harpoon line. Moby Dick rams the
Pequod and sinks it. Ahab is then caught in a harpoon line and hurled out of his harpoon boat to
his death. All of the remaining whaleboats and men are caught in the vortex created by the
sinking Pequod and pulled under to their deaths. Ishmael, who was thrown from a boat at the
beginning of the chase, was far enough away to escape the whirlpool, and he alone survives. He
floats atop Queequegs coffin, which popped back up from the wreck, until he is picked up by the
Rachel, which is still searching for the crewmen lost in her earlier encounter with Moby Dick.

48

Herman Melville
Herman Melville, the third child of Allan and Maria Gansevoort Melvill's eight, was born into a
socially connected New York family. To his socialite parents, from his youth Herman did not
seem to fit their mold of a good, God-fearing, noble and refined child.
In 1826 Allan Melvill wrote of his son as being "backward in speech and somewhat slow in
comprehension . . . of a docile and amiable disposition." After the collapse of the family's import
business in 1830 and Allan Melvill's death in 1832, Herman's oldest brother, Gansevoort,
assumed responsibility for the family and took over his father's business. After two years as a
bank clerk and some months working on the farm of his uncle, Thomas Melvill, Herman joined
his brother in the business. About this time, Herman's branch of the family altered the spelling of
its name.
By the mid-1830s, the young Melville had already begun writing, but continued financial
problems for the family forced Herman to focus primarily on work. In 1837, his brother declared
49

bankruptcy Gansevoort Melville and arranged for Herman to ship out as cabin boy on the St.
Lawrence, a merchant ship sailing in June 1839 from New York City for Liverpool.
Although he seemed to enjoy the life of sailing, Melville did not dedicate himself to the sea
immediately after the summer voyage. Instead he continued to seek out ways of helping his
family taking a series of teaching positions and then following his uncle out west in hopes of
finding steady work. He never found the work he sought; so, in January 1841, he returned east
and sailed on the whaler Acushnet on a voyage to the South Seas.
In June of the following year, the ship anchored in the Marquesas Islands in present-day French
Polynesia. Melville's adventures here, somewhat romanticized, became the subject of his first
novel, Typee (1846). In July Melville and a companion jumped ship and, according to the novel,
spent about four months as guest-captives of the reputedly cannibalistic Typee people. Actually,
in August he was registered in the crew of the Australian whaler Lucy Ann. Whatever its precise
correspondence with fact, however, Typee was faithful to the imaginative impact of the
experience on Melville: despite intimations of danger, the exotic valley of the Typees was for
Melville an idyllic sanctuary from a hustling, aggressive civilization.
When the Lucy Ann reached Tahiti, Melville joined a mutiny led by dissatisfied shipmates who
had not been paid. The mutiny landed Melville in a Tahitian jail from which he escaped. On
these events and their sequel, Melville based his second book, Omoo (1847). Lighthearted in
tone, with the mutiny shown as something of a farce, it describes Melville's travels through the
islands, accompanied by Long Ghost, formerly the ship's doctor, now turned drifter. The novel
revealed Melville's bitterness against what he saw as the debasement of the native Tahitian
peoples by so-called "civilizing" forces.
These travels, in fact, occupied less than a month. In November he signed as a harpooner on his
last whaler, the Charles & Henry, out of Nantucket, Mass. Six months later he disembarked in
Hawaii only to sign on as an ordinary seaman on the frigate United States, which in October
1844 returned him to Boston.

50

Reflection:

51

Literary
Pieces
In
India
52

This Dog
Rabindranath Tagore
Every morning this dog, very attached to me,
Quietly keeps sitting near my seat
Till touching its head
I recognize its company.
This recognition gives it so much joy
Pure delight ripples through its entire body.
Among all dumb creatures
It is the only living being
That has seen the whole man
Beyond what is good or bad in him
It has seen
For his love it can sacrifice its life
It can love him too for the sake of love alone
For it is he who shows the way
To the vast world pulsating with life.
When I see its deep devotion
The offer of its whole being
I fail to understand
By its sheer instinct
What truth it has discovered in man.
By its silent anxious piteous looks
53

It cannot communicate what it understands

But it has succeeded in conveying to me
Among the whole creation
What is the true status of man.

Reflection:

54

THE MERCHANT
Rabindranath Tagore

Imagine, mother, that you are to stay at home and I am to travel into strange lands.
Imagine that my boat is ready at the landing fully laden.
Now think well, mother, before you say what I shall bring for you when I come back.
Mother, do you want heaps and heaps of gold?
There, by the banks of golden streams, fields are full of golden harvest.
And in the shade of the forest path the golden champa flowers drop on the ground.
I will gather them all for you in many hundred baskets. Mother, do you want pearls big as the
raindrops of autumn?
I shall cross to the pearl island shore. There in the early morning light pearls tremble on the
meadow flowers, pearls drop on the grass, and pearls are scattered on the sand in spray by the
wild sea-waves.
My brother shall have a pair of horses with wings to fly among the clouds.
For father I shall bring a magic pen that, without his knowing, will write of itself.
For you, mother, I must have the casket and jewel that cost seven kings their kingdoms.

55

Reflection:

56

CLOUDS AND WAVES

Rabindranath Tagore
Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon.
I ask, "But, how am I to get up to you?" They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your
hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds."
"My mother is waiting for me at home," I say. "How can I leave her and come?"
Then they smile and float away.
But I know a nicer game than that, mother.
I shall be the cloud and you the moon.
I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will be the blue sky.
The folk who live in the waves call out to me-"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know not where we pass."
I ask, "But, how am I to join you?" They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with
your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves."
I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the evening--how can I leave her and go?"
Then they smile, dance and pass by.
But I know a better game than that.
I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with laughter.
And no one in the world will know where we both are

57

Reflection:

58

Rabindranath Tagore
Rabindranath was born on May 9, 1861 in Bengal. His father Maharihi Devendranath Tagore
was a rich man and an aristocrat and his mother was Sarada Devi. He was the eighth son and
fourteenth child of his parents. Rabindranath Tagore was not sent to any school. He was educated
at home by a tutor. Rabindranath was not happy, getting educated within the four walls. He was a
curious and creative child. Even as a boy he felt that nature is a mystery and he should unravel
the secrets of nature, through education.
Though he was educated at home, he studied many subjects and there was a method in his
studies. He would get up early. After physical education he would study Mathematics, History,
Geography, Bengali and Sanskrit. In the afternoon, he learnt drawing, English and play games.
On Sundays he would learn music and conduct experiments in science. Reading plays was of
special interest to him. He was happy to read plays of Kalidas and Shakespeare. He had a special
interest in Bengali, which was his mother-tongue.

59

Literary Pieces
in Arabian
Literature

60

On Love
Khalil Gibran
Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And
with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you
believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he
for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves
of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's
sacred feast.

61

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in
that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but
not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you
love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your
lips.

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Khalil Gibran
Philosophical essayist, novelist, poet and artist Khalil Gibran wrote The Prophet, a book of
poetic essays that achieved cult status among American youth.
Khalil Gibran was born on January 6, 1883, in Bsharri, Lebanon. He immigrated with his parents
to Boston in 1895, and later settled in New York City. His works, written in both Arabic and
English, are full of lyrical outpourings and express his deeply religious and mystical nature. The
Prophet (1923), a book of poetic essays, achieved cult status among American youth for several
generations. Gibran died in New York City on April 10, 1931.

63

Reflection:

64

Aladdin
Arabian Nights
Aladdin is an impoverished young ne'er-do-well in a Chinese town. He is recruited by a sorcerer
from the Maghreb, who passes himself off as the brother of Aladdin's late father Mustapha the
tailor, convincing Aladdin and his mother of his good will by apparently making arrangements to
set up the lad as a wealthy merchant. The sorcerer's real motive is to persuade young Aladdin to
retrieve a wonderful oil lamp from a booby-trapped magic cave. After the sorcerer attempts to
double-cross him, Aladdin finds himself trapped in the magic cave. Fortunately, Aladdin retains a
magic ring lent to him by the sorcerer as protection. When he rubs his hands in despair, he
inadvertently rubs the ring and a jinn (or "genie") appears who takes him home to his mother.
Aladdin is still carrying the lamp. When his mother tries to clean it, a second far more powerful
genie appears who is bound to do the bidding of the person holding the lamp.
With the aid of the genie of the lamp, Aladdin becomes rich and powerful and marries Princess
Badroulbadour, the Emperor's daughter (after magically foiling her marriage to the vizier's son).
The genie builds Aladdin a wonderful palace, a far more magnificent one than that of the
Emperor himself.
The sorcerer returns and is able to get his hands on the lamp by tricking Aladdin's wife (who is
unaware of the lamp's importance) by offering to exchange "new lamps for old". He orders the
genie of the lamp to take the palace along with all its contents to his home in the Maghreb.
Fortunately, Aladdin still has the magic ring and is able to summon the lesser genie. Although the
genie of the ring cannot directly undo any of the magic of the genie of the lamp, he is able to
transport Aladdin to the Maghreb where he recovers the lamp and kills the sorcerer in battle,
returning the palace (complete with the princess) to its proper place.
65

The sorcerer's more powerful and evil brother tries to destroy Aladdin for killing his brother by
disguising himself as an old woman known for her healing powers. Badroulbadour falls for his
disguise and commands the "woman" to stay in her palace in case of any illnesses. Aladdin is
warned of this danger by the genie of the lamp and slays the imposter. Everyone lives happily
ever after, Aladdin eventually succeeding to his father-in-law's throne.

Arabian Nights
The Arabian Nights is a collection of many stories that have their origins in a variety of cultures:
most notably Persian and Indian. Thus, many authors must have been involved in the creation of
the different tales; unfortunately however, we have very little information on the writers. Likely,
the stories would have initially been passed down orally, meaning that even if the original
authors were known, the stories we have today were undoubtedly altered via generations of
transmission.
However, most of the stories seem to suggest Persian and Indian origins. They were all first
written in Arabic, but have been since translated into English and a multitude of other languages.
Husain Huddawy is typically recognized as the best English translator of the stories. The first
European version of the stories was translated into French by Antoine Galland, a French
orientalist and archaeologist.

66

Reflection:

67

The Jungle Book Summary

Rudyard Kipling
Shere Khan, the tiger, pursues a small Indian boy who strays from his native village, but Shere
Khan is lame and misses his leap upon the child. When Father Wolf takes the boy home with him
to show to Mother Wolf, Shere Khan follows and demands the child as his quarry. Mother Wolf
refuses. The tiger retires in anger. Mowgli, the frog, for such he is named, is reared by Mother
Wolf along with her own cubs.
Father Wolf takes Mowgli to the Council Rock to be recognized by the wolves. Bagheera, the
panther, and Baloo, the bear, speak for Mowglis acceptance into the Seeonee wolf pack.
Therefore, Mowgli becomes a wolf. Baloo becomes Mowglis teacher and instructs him in the
lore of the jungle. Mowgli learns to speak the languages of all the jungle people. Throughout his
early life, the threat of Shere Khan hangs over him, but Mowgli is certain of his place in the pack
and of his friends protection; someday when Akela, the leader of the wolves, misses his kill, the
pack will turn on him and Mowgli. Bagheera tells Mowgli to get the Red Flower, or fire, from
the village to protect himself. When Akela misses his quarry one night and is about to be deposed
and killed, Mowgli attacks all of the mutual enemies with his fire sticks and threatens to destroy
anyone who molests Akela. That night, Mowgli realizes that the jungle is no place for him, and
that someday he will go to live with men. That time, however, is still far off.
One day, Mowgli climbs a tree and makes friends with the Bandar-Log, the monkey tribe, who
because of their stupidity and vanity are despised by the other jungle people. When the Bandar68

Log carries off Mowgli, Bagheera and Baloo go in pursuit, taking along Kaa, the rock python,
who loves to eat monkeys. Mowgli is rescued at the old ruined city of the Cold Lairs by the three
pursuers, and Kaa feasts royally upon monkey meat.
One year during a severe drought in the jungle, Hathi the elephant proclaims the water truce; all
animals are allowed to drink at the water hole unmolested. Shere Khan announces to the animals
gathered there one day that he killed a man, not for food but from choice. The other animals are
shocked. Hathi allows the tiger to drink and then tells him to be off. Then Hathi tells the story of
how fear came to the jungle and why the tiger is striped. It is the tiger who first kills man and
earns the human tribes unrelenting enmity; for his deed, the tiger is condemned to wear stripes.
For one day a year, the tiger is not afraid of man and can kill him. This day is called, among
jungle people, the Night of the Tiger.
One day, Mowgli wanders close to a native village, where he is adopted by Messua, a woman
who lost her son some years before. Mowgli becomes a watcher of the village herds; from time
to time, he meets Gray Wolf, his brother, and hears the news of the jungle.

69

Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling was born on December 30, 1865, in Bombay, India. He was educated in
England but returned to India in 1882. In 1892, Kipling married Caroline Balestier and settled in
Brattleboro, Vermont, where he wrote The Jungle Book (1894) and "Gunga Din." Eventually
becoming the highest paid writer in the world, Kipling was recipient of the Nobel Prize for
Literature in 1907. He died in 1936.
Considered one of the great English writers, Joseph Rudyard Kipling was born on December 30,
1865, in Bombay (now called Mumbai), India. At the time of his birth, his parents, John and
Alice, were recent arrivals in India. They had come, like so many of their countrymen, with plans
to start new lives and to help the British government run the continent. The family lived well,
and Kipling was especially close to his mother. His father, an artist, was the head of the
Department of Architectural Sculpture at the Jeejeebhoy School of Art in Bombay.
For Kipling, India was a wondrous place. Along with his younger sister, Alice, he reveled in
exploring the local markets with his nanny. He learned the language, and in this bustling city of
70

Anglos, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists and Jews, Kipling fell in love with the country and its
culture.
However, at the age of 6, Kipling's life was torn apart when his mother, wanting her son to
receive a formal British education, sent him to Southsea, England, where he attended school and
lived with a foster family named the Holloways.
These were hard years for Kipling. Mrs. Holloway was a brutal woman who quickly grew to
despise her young foster son. She beat and bullied Kipling, who also struggled to fit in at school.
His only break from the Holloways came in December, when Kipling, who told nobody of his
problems at school or with his foster parents, traveled to London, where he stayed with relatives
for the month.
Kipling's solace came in books and stories. With few friends, he devoted himself to reading. He
particularly adored the work of Daniel Defoe, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Wilkie Collins. When
Mrs. Holloway took away his books, Kipling snuck around her, pretending to play in his room by
moving furniture along the floor while he read.
By the age of 11, Kipling was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. A visitor to his home saw
his condition and immediately contacted his mother, who rushed back to England and rescued
her son from the Holloways. To help relax his mind, Alice took her son on an extended vacation
and then placed him in a new school in Devon. There, Kipling flourished and discovered his
talent for writing, eventually becoming editor of the school newspaper.

71

Reflection:

72

Literary
Pieces
In
Africa
73

LOVE CYCLE
Chinua Achebe
At dawn slowly
the sun withdraws his
long misty arms of
embrace. Happy lovers
whose exertions leave
no aftertaste nor slush
of loves combustion; Earth
perfumed in dewdrop
fragrance wakes
to whispers of
soft-eyed light
Later he
will wear out his temper
ploughing the vast acres
of heaven and take it
out of her in burning
darts of anger. Long
accustomed to such caprice
she waits patiently
for evening when thoughts
of another night will
74

restore his mellowness

and her power
over him.

Chinua Achebe
Born in Nigeria in 1930, Chinua Achebe attended the University of Ibadan. In 1958, his
groundbreaking novel Things Fall Apart was published. It went on to sell more than 12 million
copies and been translated into more than 50 languages. Achebe later served as the David and
Marianna Fisher University professor and professor of Africana Studies at Brown University in
Providence, Rhode Island. He died on March 21, 2013, at age 82, in Boston, Massachusetts.
Famed writer and educator Chinua Achebe was born Albert Chinualumogu Achebe on November
16, 1930, in the Igbo town of Ogidi in eastern Nigeria. After becoming educated in English at the
University of Ibadan and a subsequent teaching stint, in 1961, Achebe joined the Nigerian
Broadcasting Corporation as director of external broadcasting. He would serve in that position
until 1966.
Prior to joining NBC, in 1958, Achebe published his first novel: Things Fall Apart. The
groundbreaking novel centers on the cultural clash between native African culture and the
traditional white culture of missionaries and the colonial government in place in Nigeria. An

75

unflinching look at the discord, the book was a startling success and has become required reading
in many schools across the world.
The 1960s proved to be a creatively fertile period for Achebe. It was during this decade that he
wrote the novels No Longer at Ease (1960), Arrow of God (1964) and A Man of the People
(1966), all of which address the issue of traditional ways of life coming into conflict with new,
often colonial, points of view. (Anthills of the Savannah [1987] took on a similar theme.)
In a related endeavor, in 1967, Chinua Achebe and Christopher Okigbo, a renowned poet, cofounded a publishing company, the Citadel Press, which they intended to run as an outlet for a
new kind of African-oriented children's books. Okigbo was soon killed, however, in the Nigerian
civil war. Two years later, Achebe toured the United States with Gabriel Okara and Cyprian
Ekwensi, fellow writers, giving lectures at various universities. The 1960s also marked Achebe's
wedding to Christie Chinwe Okoli in 1961, and they went on to have four children.
When he returned to Nigeria from the United States, Achebe became a research fellow and later
a professor of English (197681) at the University of Nigeria. During this time, he also served as
director of two Nigerian publishing houses, Heinemann Educational Books Ltd. and NwankwoIfejika Ltd.
On the writing front, the 1970s proved equally productive, and Achebe published several
collections of short stories and a children's book: How the Leopard Got His Claws (1973). Also
released around this time were the poetry collections Beware, Soul-Brother (1971) and
Christmas in Biafra (1973), and Achebe's first book of essays, Morning Yet on Creation Day
(1975).
While back in the United States in 1975, at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, Achebe
gave a lecture called "An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad's Heart of Darkness," in which he
asserted that Joseph Conrad's famous novel dehumanizes Africans. The work referred to Conrad
as a "thoroughgoing racist," and, when published in essay form, it went on to become a seminal
postcolonial African work. Achebe joined the faculty at the University of Connecticut that same
year, returning to the University of Nigeria in 1976.

76

Reflection:

77

Dedication
Earth will not share the rafter's envy; dung floors
Break, not the gecko's slight skin, but its fall
Taste this soil for death and plumb her deep for life
As this yam, wholly earthed, yet a living tuber
To the warmth of waters, earthed as springs
As roots of baobab, as the hearth.
The air will not deny you. Like a top
Spin you on the navel of the storm, for the hoe
That roots the forests plows a path for squirrels.
Be ageless as dark peat, but only that rain's
Fingers, not the feet of men, may wash you over.
Long wear the sun's shadow; run naked to the night.
Peppers green and red-child-your tongue arch
To scorpion tail, spit straight return to danger's threats
Yet coo with the brown pigeon, tendril dew between your lips.
Shield you like the flesh of palms, skyward held
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Cuspids in thorn nesting, insealed as the heart of kernelA woman's flesh is oil-child, palm oil on your tongue
Is suppleness to life, and wine of this gourd
From self-same timeless run of runnels as refill
Your podlings, child, weaned from yours we embrace
Earth's honeyed milk, wine of the only rib.
Now roll your tongue in honey till your cheeks are
Swarming honeycombs-your world needs sweetening, child.
Camwood round the heart, chalk for flight
Of blemish-see? it dawns!-antimony beneath
Armpits like a goddess, and leave this taste
Long on your lips, of salt, that you may seek
None from tears. This, rain-water, is the gift
Of gods-drink of its purity, bear fruits in season.
Fruits then to your lips: haste to repay
The debt of birth. Yield man-tides like the sea
And ebbing, leave a meaning of the fossilled sands.

79

Wole Soyinka
Wole Soyinka was born on July 13, 1934, in Nigeria and educated in England. In 1986, the
playwright and political activist became the first African to receive the Nobel Prize for
Literature. He dedicated his Nobel acceptance speech to Nelson Mandela. Soyinka has published
hundreds of works, including drama, novels, essays and poetry, and colleges all over the world
seek him out as a visiting professor.
Wole Soyinka was born Akinwande Oluwole "Wole" Babatunde Soyinka on July 13, 1934, in
Abeokuta, near Ibadan in western Nigeria. His father, Samuel Ayodele Soyinka, was a prominent
Anglican minister and headmaster. His mother, Grace Eniola Soyinka, who was called "Wild
Christian," was a shopkeeper and local activist. As a child, he lived in an Anglican mission
compound, learning the Christian teachings of his parents, as well as the Yoruba spiritualism and

80

tribal customs of his grandfather. A precocious and inquisitive child, Wole prompted the adults in
his life to warn one another: He will kill you with his questions.
After finishing preparatory university studies in 1954 at Government College in Ibadan, Soyinka
moved to England and continued his education at the University of Leeds, where he served as the
editor of the school's magazine, The Eagle. He graduated with a bachelor's degree in English
literature in 1958. (In 1972 the university awarded him an honorary doctorate).

Reflection:

81

An Ordinary Man
Nelson Mandela
In the end he died an ordinary man
Only rich in wrinkles from where the spirit had been
It would be the saddest days
And we watched the world weep
For a giant bigger than myths

A life owned by many

Now free as the gods
Some cried as though tomorrow was lost
Some celebrated, questioned freedom and its cost
Some seized the chance to stand on his shoulders
While others cursed his grave and scorned wisdom of the elders

Stadiums were littered

And those in the know spoke their fill
Mourners paid tribute
Monarch to President made the bill
82

But still

Where do I we begin
In telling our children where these old bones have been
And that we as next of kin
Have inherited his struggle
And he forever lives through our skin

And on his last day

When the earth reclaims what's hers
We will surrender his body but reignite his spirit
We will write all we know and let history read it to our children
And remind both scholar and critic
That there once was a prisoner of freedom
Who gave the world back its heart
But in the end
He died an ordinary man.

83

Nelson Mandela
Nelson Mandela was born on July 18, 1918, in Mveso, Transkei, South Africa. Becoming
actively involved in the anti-apartheid movement in his 20s, Mandela joined the African National
Congress in 1942. For 20 years, he directed a campaign of peaceful, nonviolent defiance against
the South African government and its racist policies. In 1993, Mandela and South African
President F.W. de Klerk were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for their efforts to dismantle
the country's apartheid system. In 1994, Mandela was inaugurated as South Africa's first black
president. In 2009, Mandela's birthday (July 18) was declared "Mandela Day" to promote global
peace and celebrate the South African leader's legacy. Mandela died at his home in Johannesburg
on December 5, 2013, at age 95.
Nelson Mandela was born Rolihlahla Mandela on July 18, 1918, in the tiny village of Mvezo, on
the banks of the Mbashe River in Transkei, South Africa. "Rolihlahla" in the Xhosa language
literally means "pulling the branch of a tree," but more commonly translates as "troublemaker."
84

Nelson Mandela's father, who was destined to be a chief, served as a counselor to tribal chiefs for
several years, but lost both his title and fortune over a dispute with the local colonial magistrate.
Mandela was only an infant at the time, and his father's loss of status forced his mother to move
the family to Qunu, an even smaller village north of Mvezo. The village was nestled in a narrow
grassy valley; there were no roads, only foot paths that linked the pastures where livestock
grazed. The family lived in huts and ate a local harvest of maize, sorghum, pumpkin and beans,
which was all they could afford. Water came from springs and streams and cooking was done
outdoors. Mandela played the games of young boys, acting out male rights-of-passage scenarios
with toys he made from the natural materials available, including tree branches and clay.
At the suggestion of one of his father's friends, Mandela was baptized in the Methodist Church.
He went on to become the first in his family to attend school. As was custom at the time, and
probably due to the bias of the British educational system in South Africa, Mandela's teacher told
him that his new first name would be Nelson.
When Mandela was 9 years old, his father died of lung disease, causing his life to change
dramatically. He was adopted by Chief Jongintaba Dalindyebo, the acting regent of the Thembu
peoplea gesture done as a favor to Mandela's father, who, years earlier, had recommended
Jongintaba be made chief. Mandela subsequently left the carefree life he knew in Qunu, fearing
that he would never see his village again. He traveled by motorcar to Mqhekezweni, the
provincial capital of Thembuland, to the chief's royal residence. Though he had not forgotten his
beloved village of Qunu, he quickly adapted to the new, more sophisticated surroundings of
Mqhekezweni.
Mandela was given the same status and responsibilities as the regent's two other children, his son
and oldest child, Justice, and daughter Nomafu. Mandela took classes in a one-room school next
to the palace, studying English, Xhosa, history and geography. It was during this period that
Mandela developed an interest in African history, from elder chiefs who came to the Great Palace
on official business. He learned how the African people had lived in relative peace until the
coming of the white people. According to the elders, the children of South Africa had previously
85

lived as brothers, but white men had shattered this fellowship. While black men shared their
land, air and water with whites, white men took all of these things for themselves.
When Mandela was 16, it was time for him to partake in the traditional African circumcision
ritual to mark his entrance into manhood. The ceremony of circumcision was not just a surgical
procedure, but an elaborate ritual in preparation for manhood. In African tradition, an
uncircumcised man cannot inherit his father's wealth, marry or officiate at tribal rituals. Mandela
participated in the ceremony with 25 other boys. He welcomed the opportunity to partake in his
people's customs and felt ready to make the transition from boyhood to manhood. His mood
shifted during the proceedings, however, when Chief Meligqili, the main speaker at the
ceremony, spoke sadly of the young men, explaining that they were enslaved in their own
country. Because their land was controlled by white men, they would never have the power to
govern themselves, the chief said. He went on to lament that the promise of the young men
would be squandered as they struggled to make a living and perform mindless chores for white
men. Mandela would later say that while the chief's words didn't make total sense to him at the
time, they would eventually formulate his resolve for an independent South Africa.
From the time Mandela came under the guardianship of Regent Jongintaba, he was groomed to
assume high office, not as a chief, but a counselor to one. As Thembu royalty, Mandela attended
a Wesleyan mission school, the Clarkebury Boarding Institute and Wesleyan College, where, he
would later state, he achieved academic success through "plain hard work." He also excelled at
track and boxing. Mandela was initially mocked as a "country boy" by his Wesleyan classmates,
but eventually became friends with several students, including Mathona, his first female friend.
In 1939, Mandela enrolled at the University College of Fort Hare, the only residential center of
higher learning for blacks in South Africa at the time. Fort Hare was considered Africa's
equivalent of the University of Oxford or Harvard University, drawing scholars from all parts of
sub-Sahara Africa. In his first year at the university, Mandela took the required courses, but
focused on Roman Dutch law to prepare for a career in civil service as an interpreter or clerk
regarded as the best profession that a black man could obtain at the time.

86

In his second year at Fort Hare, Mandela was elected to the Student Representative Council. For
some time, students had been dissatisfied with the food and lack of power held by the SRC.
During this election, a majority of students voted to boycott unless their demands were met.
Aligning with the student majority, Mandela resigned from his position. Seeing this as an act of
insubordination, the university's Dr. Kerr expelled Mandela for the rest of the year and gave him
an ultimatum: He could return to the school if he agreed to serve on the SRC. When Mandela
returned home, the regent was furious, telling him unequivocally that he would have to recant his
decision and go back to school in the fall.
Reflection:

87

Literary
Pieces
In
Hebrew
88

The Old Woman and Her Pig

AN OLD woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked sixpence. "What," said
she, "shall I do with this little sixpence? I will go to market, and buy a little pig."
As she was coming home, she came to a stile: but the piggy wouldn't go over the stile.
She went a little further, and she met a dog. So she said to the dog: "Dog! bite pig; piggy won't
go over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But the dog wouldn't.
She went a little further, and she met a stick. So she said: "Stick! stick! beat dog! dog won't bite
pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But the stick wouldn't.
She went a little further, and she met a fire. So she said: "Fire! fire! burn stick; stick won't beat
dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But the
fire wouldn't.
She went a little further, and she met some water. So she said: "Water, water! quench fire; fire
won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I
shan't get home to-night." But the water wouldn't.
She went a little further, and she met an ox. So she said: "Ox! ox! drink water; water won't
quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over
the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But the ox wouldn't.
89

She went a little further, and she met a butcher. So she said: "Butcher! butcher! kill ox; ox won't
drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite
pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But the butcher wouldn't.
She went a little further, and she met a rope. So she said: "Rope! rope! hang butcher; butcher
won't kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't
beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But
the rope wouldn't.
She went a little further, and she met a rat. So she said: "Rat! rat! gnaw rope; rope won't hang
butcher; butcher won't kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn
stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get
home to-night." But the rat wouldn't.
She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said: "Cat! cat! kill rat; rat won't gnaw rope;
rope won't hang butcher; butcher won't kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire;
fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I
shan't get home to-night." But the cat said to her, "If you will go to yonder cow, and fetch me a
saucer of milk, I will kill the rat." So away went the old woman to the cow.
But the cow said to her: "If you will go to yonder hay-stack, and fetch me a handful of hay, I'll
give you the milk." So away went the old woman to the haystack and she brought the hay to the
cow.
As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman the milk; and away she went with
it in a saucer to the cat.
As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk, the cat began to kill the rat; the rat began to gnaw the
rope; the rope began to hang the butcher; the butcher began to kill the ox; the ox began to drink
the water; the water began to quench the fire; the fire began to burn the stick; the stick began to
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beat the dog; the dog began to bite the pig; the little pig in a fright jumped over the stile, and so
the old woman got home that night.

Joseph Jacobs
Joseph Jacobs, (born Aug. 29, 1854, Sydney, N.S.W. [Australia]died Jan. 30, 1916, Yonkers,
N.Y., U.S.), Australian-born English folklore scholar, one of the most popular 19th-century
adapters of childrens fairy tales. He was also a historian of pre-expulsion English Jewry (The
Jews of Angevin England, 1893), a historian of Jewish culture (Studies in Jewish Statistics,
1891), and a literary scholar.
After attending primary school Sydney, Jacobs immigrated to England in 1872. A graduate
(1876) of the University of Cambridge, Jacobs was secretary (18821900) of the Russo-Jewish
Committee (London), formed to improve the wretched social and political conditions of Jews in
Russia. He edited the journal Folk-Lore from 1889 to 1900. A prolific author, Jacobs is generally
best known for such scholarly and popular works on folklore as The Fables of Aesop (1894),
English Fairy Tales (1890), Celtic Fairy Tales (1892), Indian Fairy Tales (1892), The Book of
Wonder Voyages (1896), and Europas Fairy Book (1916). In 1900 he immigrated with his
family to the United States, where he worked as revising editor of the Jewish Encyclopedia. He

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later taught literature at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America and edited the magazine
American Hebrew (190616).

Reflection:

92

The Homely Heroine

Edna Ferber
Millie Whitcomb, of the fancy goods and notions, beckoned me with her finger. I had been
standing at Kate O'Malley's counter, pretending to admire her new basket-weave suitings, but in
reality reveling in her droll account of how, in the train coming up from Chicago, Mrs. Judge
Porterfield had worn the negro porter's coat over her chilly shoulders in mistake for her
husband's. Kate O'Malley can tell a funny story in a way to make the after-dinner pleasantries of
a Washington diplomat sound like the clumsy jests told around the village grocery stove.
"I wanted to tell you that I read that last story of yours," said Millie, sociably, when I had strolled
over to her counter, "and I liked it, all but the heroine. She had an `adorable throat' and hair that
`waved away from her white brow,' and eyes that `now were blue and now gray.' Say, why don't
you write a story about an ugly girl?"
"My land!" protested I. "It's bad enough trying to make them accept my stories as it is. That last
heroine was a raving beauty, but she came back eleven times before the editor of Blakely's
succumbed to her charms."
Millie's fingers were busy straightening the contents of a tray of combs and imitation jet
barrettes. Millie's fingers were not intended for that task. They are slender, tapering fingers, pinktipped and sensitive.

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"I should think," mused she, rubbing a cloudy piece of jet with a bit of soft cloth, "that they'd
welcome a homely one with relief. These goddesses are so cloying."
Millie Whitcomb's black hair is touched with soft mists of gray, and she wears lavender
shirtwaists and white stocks edged with lavender. There is a Colonial air about her that has
nothing to do with celluloid combs and imitation jet barrettes. It breathes of dim old rooms, rich
with the tones of mahogany and old brass, and Millie in the midst of it, gray-gowned, a soft
white fichu crossed upon her breast.
In our town the clerks are not the pert and gum-chewing young persons that story-writers are
wont to describe. The girls at Bascom's are institutions. They know us all by our first names, and
our lives are as an open book to them. Kate O'Malley, who has been at Bascom's for so many
years that she is rumored to have stock in the company, may be said to govern the fashions of our
town. She is wont to say, when we express a fancy for gray as the color of our new spring suit:
"Oh, now, Nellie, don't get gray again. You had it year before last, and don't you think it was just
the least leetle bit trying? Let me show you that green that came in yesterday. I said the minute I
clapped my eyes on it that it was just the color for you, with your brown hair and all."
And we end by deciding on the green.
The girls at Bascom's are not gossips--they are too busy for that--but they may be said to be
delightfully well informed. How could they be otherwise when we go to Bascom's for our
wedding dresses and party favors and baby flannels? There is news at Bascom's that our daily
paper never hears of, and wouldn't dare print if it did.
So when Millie Whitcomb, of the fancy goods and notions, expressed her hunger for a homely
heroine, I did not resent the suggestion. On the contrary, it sent me home in thoughtful mood, for
Millie Whitcomb has acquired a knowledge of human nature in the dispensing of her fancy
goods and notions. It set me casting about for a really homely heroine.

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There never has been a really ugly heroine in fiction. Authors have started bravely out to write of
an unlovely woman, but they never have had the courage to allow her to remain plain. On Page
237 she puts on a black lace dress and red roses, and the combination brings out unexpected
tawny lights in her hair, and olive tints in her cheeks, and there she is, the same old beautiful
heroine. Even in the "Duchess" books one finds the simple Irish girl, on donning a green
corduroy gown cut square at the neck, transformed into a wild-rose beauty, at sight of whom a
ball-room is hushed into admiring awe. There's the case of jane Eyre, too. She is constantly
described as plain and mouse-like, but there are covert hints as to her gray eyes and slender
figure and clear skin, and we have a sneaking notion that she wasn't such a fright after all.
Therefore, when I tell you that I am choosing Pearlie Schultz as my leading lady you are to
understand that she is ugly, not only when the story opens, but to the bitter end. In the first place,
Pearlie is fat. Not, plump, or rounded, or dimpled, or deliciously curved, but FAT. She bulges in
all the wrong places, including her chin. (Sister, who has a way of snooping over my desk in my
absence, says that I may as well drop this now, because nobody would ever read it, anyway, least
of all any sane editor. I protest when I discover that Sis has been over my papers. It bothers me.
But she says you have to do these things when you have a genius in the house, and cites the case
of Kipling's "Recessional," which was rescued from the depths of his wastebasket by his wife.)
Pearlie Schultz used to sit on the front porch summer evenings and watch the couples stroll by,
and weep in her heart. A fat girl with a fat girl's soul is a comedy. But a fat girl with a thin girl's
soul is a tragedy. Pearlie, in spite of her two hundred pounds, had the soul of a willow wand.
The walk in front of Pearlie's house was guarded by a row of big trees that cast kindly shadows.
The strolling couples used to step gratefully into the embrace of these shadows, and from them
into other embraces. Pearlie, sitting on the porch, could see them dimly, although they could not
see her. She could not help remarking that these strolling couples were strangely lacking in
sprightly conversation. Their remarks were but fragmentary, disjointed affairs, spoken in low
tones with a queer, tremulous note in them. When they reached the deepest, blackest, kindliest
shadow, which fell just before the end of the row of trees, the strolling couples almost always
stopped, and then there came a quick movement, and a little smothered cry from the girl, and
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then a sound, and then a silence. Pearlie, sitting alone on the porch in the dark, listened to these
things and blushed furiously. Pearlie had never strolled into the kindly shadows with a little
beating of the heart, and she had never been surprised with a quick arm about her and eager lips
pressed warmly against her own.
In the daytime Pearlie worked as public stenographer at the Burke Hotel. She rose at seven in the
morning, and rolled for fifteen minutes, and lay on her back and elevated her heels in the air, and
stood stiff-kneed while she touched the floor with her finger tips one hundred times, and went
without her breakfast. At the end of each month she usually found that she weighed three pounds
more than she had the month before.
The folks at home never joked with Pearlie about her weight. Even one's family has some respect
for a life sorrow. Whenever Pearlie asked that inevitable question of the fat woman: "Am I as fat
as she is?" her mother always answered: "You! Well, I should hope not! You're looking real
peaked lately, Pearlie. And your blue skirt just ripples in the back, it's getting so big for you."
Of such blessed stuff are mothers made.
But if the gods had denied Pearlie all charms of face or form, they had been decent enough to
bestow on her one gift. Pearlie could cook like an angel; no, better than an angel, for no angel
could be a really clever cook and wear those flowing kimono-like sleeves. They'd get into the
soup. Pearlie could take a piece of rump and some suet and an onion and a cup or so of water,
and evolve a pot roast that you could cut with a fork. She could turn out a surprisingly good cake
with surprisingly few eggs, all covered with white icing, and bearing cunning little jelly figures
on its snowy bosom. She could beat up biscuits that fell apart at the lightest pressure, revealing
little pools of golden butter within. Oh, Pearlie could cook!
On week days Pearlie rattled the typewriter keys, but on Sundays she shooed her mother out of
the kitchen. Her mother went, protesting faintly:

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"Now, Pearlie, don't fuss so for dinner. You ought to get your rest on Sunday instead of stewing
over a hot stove all morning."
"Hot fiddlesticks, ma," Pearlie would say, cheerily. "It ain't hot, because it's a gas stove. And I'll
only get fat if I sit around. You put on your black-and-white and go to church. Call me when
you've got as far as your corsets, and I'll puff your hair for you in the back."
In her capacity of public stenographer at the Burke Hotel, it was Pearlie's duty to take letters
dictated by traveling men and beginning: "Yours of the 10th at hand. In reply would say. . . ." or:
"Enclosed please find, etc." As clinching proof of her plainness it may be stated that none of the
traveling men, not even Max Baum, who was so fresh that the girl at the cigar counter actually
had to squelch him, ever called Pearlie "baby doll," or tried to make a date with her. Not that
Pearlie would ever have allowed them to. But she never had had to reprove them. During pauses
in dictation she had a way of peering near-sightedly, over her glasses at the dapper, well-dressed
traveling salesman who was rolling off the items on his sale bill. That is a trick which would
make the prettiest kind of a girl look owlish.
On the night that Sam Miller strolled up to talk to her, Pearlie was working late. She had
promised to get out a long and intricate bill for Max Baum, who travels for Kuhn and Klingman,
so that he might take the nine o'clock evening train. The irrepressible Max had departed with
much eclat and clatter, and Pearlie was preparing to go home when Sam approached her.
Sam had just come in from the Gayety Theater across the street, whither he had gone in a vain
search for amusement after supper. He had come away in disgust. A soiled soubrette with orangecolored hair and baby socks had swept her practiced eye over the audience, and, attracted by
Sam's good-looking blond head in the second row, had selected him as the target of her song. She
had run up to the extreme edge of the footlights at the risk of teetering over, and had informed
Sam through the medium of song--to the huge delight of the audience, and to Sam's red-faced
discomfiture--that she liked his smile, and he was just her style, and just as cute as he could be,
and just the boy for her. On reaching the chorus she had whipped out a small, round mirror and,

97

assisted by the calcium-light man in the rear, had thrown a wretched little spotlight on Sam's
head.
Ordinarily, Sam would not have minded it. But that evening, in the vest pocket just over the
place where he supposed his heart to be reposed his girl's daily letter. They were to be married on
Sam's return to New York from his first long trip. In the letter near his heart she had written
prettily and seriously about traveling men, and traveling men's wives, and her little code for both.
The fragrant, girlish, grave little letter had caused Sam to sour on the efforts of the soiled
soubrette.
As soon as possible he had fled up the aisle and across the street to the hotel writing-room. There
he had spied Pearlie's good-humored, homely face, and its contrast with the silly, red and-white
countenance of the unlaundered soubrette had attracted his homesick heart.
Pearlie had taken some letters from him earlier in the day. Now, in his hunger for companionship,
he, strolled up to her desk, just as she was putting her typewriter to bed.
"Gee I This is a lonesome town!" said Sam, smiling down at her.
Pearlie glanced up at him, over her glasses. "I guess you must be from New York," she said. "I've
heard a real New Yorker can get bored in Paris. In New York the sky is bluer, and the grass is
greener, and the girls are prettier, and the steaks are thicker, and the buildings are higher, and the
streets are wider, and the air is finer, than the sky, or the grass, or the girls, or the steaks, or the
air of any place else in the world. Ain't they?"
"Oh, now," protested Sam, "quit kiddin' me! You'd be lonesome for the little old town, too, if
you'd been born and dragged up in it, and hadn't seen it for four months."
"New to the road, aren't you?" asked Pearlie.
Sam blushed a little. "How did you know?"
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"Well, you generally can tell. They don't know what to do with themselves evenings, and they
look rebellious when they go into the dining-room. The old-timers just look resigned."
"You've picked up a thing or two around here, haven't you? I wonder if the time will ever come
when I'll look resigned to a hotel dinner, after four months of 'em. Why, girl, I've got so I just eat
the things that are covered up--like baked potatoes in the shell, and soft boiled eggs, and baked
apples, and oranges that I can peel, and nuts."
"Why, you poor kid," breathed Pearlie, her pale eyes fixed on him in motherly pity. "You oughtn't
to do that. You'll get so thin your girl won't know you."
Sam looked up quickly. "How in thunderation did you know----?"
Pearlie was pinning on her hat, and she spoke succinctly, her hatpins between her teeth: "You've
been here two days now, and I notice you dictate all your letters except the longest one, and you
write that one off in a corner of the writing-room all by yourself, with your cigar just glowing
like a live coal, and you squint up through the smoke, and grin to yourself."
"Say, would you mind if I walked home with you?" asked Sam.
If Pearlie was surprised, she was woman enough not to show it. She picked up her gloves and
hand bag, locked her drawer with a click, and smiled her acquiescence. And when Pearlie smiled
she was awful.
It was a glorious evening in the early summer, moonless, velvety, and warm. As they strolled
homeward, Sam told her all about the Girl, as is the way of traveling men the world over. He told
her about the tiny apartment they had taken, and how he would be on the road only a couple of
years more, as this was just a try-out that the firm always insisted on. And they stopped under an
arc light while Sam showed her the picture in his watch, as is also the way of traveling men since
time immemorial.
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Pearlie made an excellent listener. He was so boyish, and so much in love, and so pathetically
eager to make good with the firm, and so happy to have some one in whom to confide.
"But it's a dog's life, after all," reflected Sam, again after the fashion of all traveling men. "Any
fellow on the road earns his salary these days, you bet. I used to think it was all getting up when
you felt like it, and sitting in the big front window of the hotel, smoking a cigar and watching the
pretty girls go by. I wasn't wise to the packing, and the unpacking, and the rotten train service,
and the grouchy customers, and the canceled bills, and the grub."
Pearlie nodded understandingly. "A man told me once that twice a week regularly he dreamed of
the way his wife cooked noodle-soup."
"My folks are German," explained Sam. "And my mother--can she cook! Well, I just don't seem
able to get her potato pancakes out of my mind. And her roast beef tasted and looked like roast
beef, and not like a wet red flannel rag."
At this moment Pearlie was seized with a brilliant idea. "To-morrow's Sunday. You're going to
Sunday here, aren't you? Come over and eat your dinner with us. If you have forgotten the taste
of real food, I can give you a dinner that'll jog your memory."
"Oh, really," protested Sam. "You're awfully good, but I couldn't think of it. I----"
"You needn't be afraid. I'm not letting you in for anything. I may be homelier than an English
suffragette, and I know my lines are all bumps, but there's one thing you can't take away from
me, and that's my cooking hand. I can cook, boy, in a way to make your mother's Sunday dinner,
with company expected, look like Mrs. Newlywed's first attempt at `riz' biscuits. And I don't
mean any disrespect to your mother when I say it. I'm going to have noodle-soup, and fried
chicken, and hot biscuits, and creamed beans from our own garden, and strawberry shortcake
with real----"

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"Hush!" shouted Sam. "If I ain't there, you'll know that I passed away during the night, and you
can telephone the clerk to break in my door."
The Grim Reaper spared him, and Sam came, and was introduced to the family, and ate. He put
himself in a class with Dr. Johnson, and Ben Brust, and Gargantua, only that his table manners
were better. He almost forgot to talk during the soup, and he came back three times for chicken,
and by the time the strawberry shortcake was half consumed he was looking at Pearlie with a sort
of awe in his eyes.
That night he came over to say good-bye before taking his train out for Ishpeming. He and
Pearlie strolled down as far as the park and back again.
"I didn't eat any supper," said Sam. "It would have been sacrilege, after that dinner of yours.
Honestly, I don't know how to thank you, being so good to a stranger like me. When I come back
next trip, I expect to have the Kid with me, and I want her to meet you, by George! She's a
winner and a pippin, but she wouldn't know whether a porterhouse was stewed or frapped. I'll tell
her about you, you bet. In the meantime, if there's anything I can do for you, I'm yours to
command."
Pearlie turned to him suddenly. "You see that clump of thick shadows ahead of us, where those
big trees stand in front of our house?"
"Sure," replied Sam.
"Well, when we step into that deepest, blackest shadow, right in front of our porch, I want you to
reach up, and put your arm around me and kiss me on the mouth, just once. And when you get
back to New York you can tell your girl I asked you to."
There broke from him a little involuntary exclamation. It might have been of pity, and it might
have been of surprise. It had in it something of both, but nothing of mirth. And as they stepped
into the depths of the soft black shadows he took off his smart straw sailor, which was so
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different from the sailors that the boys in our town wear. And there was in the gesture something
of reverence.
Millie Whitcomb didn't like the story of the homely heroine, after all. She says that a steady diet
of such literary fare would give her blue indigestion. Also she objects on the ground that no one
got married--that is, the heroine didn't. And she says that a heroine who does not get married isn't
a heroine at all. She thinks she prefers the pink-cheeked, goddess kind, in the end.

Edna Ferber
Born on August 15, 1885, novelist and playwright Edna Ferber began her writing career as a
reporter in her native Michigan. She soon started to write fiction, and in 1924 she won the
Pulitzer Prize for her novel So Big. Ferber was very popularher book Show Boat (1926)
became a musical, and Giant (1952) was made into a movie (James Dean's final film), among
other adaptations. Her plays include Dinner at Eight and Stage Door. Ferber died on April 16,
1968.
Edna Ferber was born on August 15, 1885, in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Her father, Jacob, was a
Hungarian immigrant and shopkeeper, and her mother, Julia, was a native of Wisconsin. Both
were of Jewish descent. Ednas early childhood was spent in Kalamazoo, but successive failures
of the family business forced a series of moves to other cities, including Ottumwa, Iowa, where
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the anti-Semitism they endured was so strong that after several years they left for a fresh start in
Appleton, Wisconsin.
In Appleton, Ferber attended high school and developed an interest in acting, appearing in
several school productions. However, after graduating, Edna was forced to set aside her dreams
of becoming a professional actor when her father became ill and began to lose his eyesight. Her
mother took charge of the family business, and 17-year-old Edna found work as a reporter for the
local paper, the Appleton Daily Crescent. After a year at the Crescent, Edna landed her next job
at the larger Milwaukee Journal, where over the next four years she worked so hard that the she
suffered a severe exhaustive breakdown.

Reflection:

103

Tremont Street
David Mamet
Who, when it had passed, would say
The black bag was not borrowed at the restaurant;
or that a labored pleasantry
reduced or added strain
to the already strained day
following the hurricane?
Or find the restauranteur
False in his demeanor
Mixed of overwrought concern
And an assumed security?
No one who had not been there.
When the wind
Dashed the globe down in the street
When the rain fell
So perpendicular
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As rain in a sketch beyond talentless.

As rain in a drawing
By one obsessed
Past the point of care
Or hope of the same
On the part of One
Not similarly mad.

David Mamet

In 1973 David Mamet founded the St. Nicholas Theatre Co. in Chicago and won wide notice
with Sexual Perversity in Chicago in 1974. His Glengarry Glen Ross was awarded the Pulitzer
Prize in 1983. Mamet became known for rapid-fire dialogue studded with obscenities and for his
preoccupation with power relationships and corporate corruption. His screenplays include The
Verdict and The Untouchables.

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Reflection:

106

Literary
Pieces
In
107

China

he Marriage Of A Princess
Confucius

In the magpie's nest

Dwells the dove at rest.
This young bride goes to her future home;
To meet her a hundred chariots come.
Of the magpie's nest
Is the dove possessed.
This bride goes to her new home to live;
And escort a hundred chariots give.
The nest magpie wove
Now filled by the dove.
This bride now takes to her home her way;
And these numerous cars her state display.
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Confucius
Kong Qui, better known as Confucius, was born in 551 B.C. in the Lu state of China (near
present-day Qufu). His teachings, preserved in the Analects, focused on creating ethical models
of family and public interaction, and setting educational standards. He died in 479 B.C.
Confucianism later became the official imperial philosophy of China, and was extremely
influential during the Han, Tang and Song dynasties.

109

Reflection:

110

Sun Tzu's Art of War

Speak to me Master Sun,
of the art of war.
Listen then my son,
and know you well,
that in war,
the Way is to avoid what is strong,
and to strike what is weak.
Know also,
that all warfare is based on deception.
Hence,
When able to attack, we must seem unable;
When using our forces, we must seem inactive;
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When we are near,

the enemy must believe we are far away;
When far away,
we must make him believe we are near.
Hold out baits to entice the enemy.
Feign disorder, disunity, and crush him.
If he is secure at all points, be prepared for him.
If he is in superior strength, avoid and evade him.
If your opponent is of choleric temper, irritate him.
Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.
If he is taking his ease, give him no rest.
If his forces are united, separate them.
Attack where he is unprepared,
appear where you are not expected.
These military devices, leading to victory,
Must not be divulged beforehand.
And,
If you know the enemy and know yourself,
you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.
If you know yourself but not your enemy,
for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.
If you know neither the enemy nor yourself,
you will succumb in every battle.

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However,
to fight and conquer in all your battles
is not supreme excellence:
Supreme excellence consists
in breaking the enemy's resistance,
without fighting.
Thus it is that in war the victorious strategist
seeks battle only after victory has been won,
whereas he who is destined to defeat,
first fights, and afterwards, looks for victory.

Sun Tzu
Sun Tzu was an ancient Chinese military general, strategist and philosopher, who is believed to
have written the famous ancient Chinese book on military strategy, The Art of War. Through
his legends and the influential The Art of War, Sun Tzu had a significant impact on Chinese
and Asian history and culture. The book drew immense popularity during the 19th and 20th
centuries when the Western Society saw its practical use. This work still has continued its impact
on both Asian and Western culture and politics. Sun Tzus authenticity is still a question of
debate, but the traditional Chinese accounts place him in the Spring and Autumn Period of China
(722481 BC), where he was a military general serving under King Hel of Wu. Based on the
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description of warfare in The Art of War and the striking similarity of the texts prose to other
works from Warring States period led the modern scholars to place the completion of The Art of
War in the Warring States Period (476221 BC).

Reflection:

114

Drinking Alone
Li Po
I take my wine jug out among the flowers
to drink alone, without friends.
I raise my cup to entice the moon.
That, and my shadow, makes us three.
But the moon doesn't drink,
and my shadow silently follows.
I will travel with moon and shadow,
happy to the end of spring.
When I sing, the moon dances.
When I dance, my shadow dances, too.

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We share life's joys when sober.

Drunk, each goes a separate way.
Constant friends, although we wander,
we'll meet again in the Milky Way.

Li Po
Li Po was born in what is now Sichuan Province. At 19 he left home and lived with a Taoist
hermit. After a time of wandering, he married and lived with his wife's family. Then he lived
briefly as a poet at the Tang court in Chang'an. He decided to return to a life of Taoist study and
poetry writing. During his wanderings in 744 he met Tu Fu, another famous poet of the period. In
756, Li Po became an un official poet laureate to Prince Lin. The prince was soon accused of
intending to set up an independent kingdom and was executed. Li Po was arrested and
imprisoned, but a high official looked into Li Po's case. The high official had Li Po released and
made him a staff secretary. In the summer of 758, the charges were revived. Li Po was banished
to Yeh-lang. Li Po frequently celebrated the joy of drinking. According to legend, Li Po drowned
while drunkenly leaning from a boat to embrace the moon's reflection on the water. Most
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scholars believe he died from cirrhosis of the liver or from mercury poisoning due to Taoist
longevity elixirs.

Reflection:

117

Literary
Pieces
In
118

Egypt

Your Beauty
Ali Salem
your beauty is a big world its space is you
your beauty is a sky its moon is you
your beauty is a paradise its angel is you
your beauty is a garden its flower is you
your beauty is a poem its title is you
your beauty is a theater its art is you
your beauty is a song its melody is you
and i wish to sing that song.

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Reflection:

120

Soul inflorescence
your words blossom in my heart like rose petals...
softly they grow my senses,
their scent caressing my soul
i could spend a lifetime relishing on your love's nectar.

121

Reflection:

122

Ali Salem
Born December 24, 1973, in Assa, Morocco) is a Sahrawi independence activist, human rights
defender and trade unionist.
Ali Salem Tamek was born in Assa, southern Morocco. He has emerged as one of the most
outspoken Sahrawi dissidents under Moroccan rule. He is vice president of the Collective Of
Sahrawi Human Rights Defenders (CODESA).[2] He was active in Moroccan trade unions and
leftist Moroccan spheres.

123

A theistic poem
Taha Hussein
I thought you are the deceiver and that you guide who you want
Harmful hateful and humiliating for the arrogance of pride
Powerful bass to the people not subtle and cunning
Cut off hands of thieves and stone the bodies of women
you uphold justice by the sword and your justice is by bloodshed
if you are the creator of the killers tell me where is the God of the weak
If you were the creator of all why did you deprive some of them from living
What to reap the murder of non-demolition and yard
Do you worship a butcher that crushes innocent livers?
or I worshiped the devil who send us the seal of the prophets
Calculated the Paradise for the mujahideen where the powerful will live
Dates and grapes and figs and rivers of wine of the pious
Best haven for hungry who lived in the desert
and beds made of a precious ruby stones , and virgins, singing
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We are faithful lovers came to fulfill their demands, waiting to obey any command
Praise God our best and see how Gods reward
Is paradise struggle and shout and penetration without flexion (endless sex)
The virgin will be replaced as soon as she loses her virginity
Renewed poplar previously married and youre a virgin you Balrfa
Did I worship a pimp playing with fools minds
or did I worship the devil who send us the seal of the prophets.

Taha Hussein
(born Nov. 14, 1889, Maghghah, Egyptdied Oct. 28, 1973, Cairo), outstanding figure of the
modernist movement in Egyptian literature whose writings, in Arabic, include novels, stories,
criticism, and social and political essays. Outside Egypt he is best known through his
autobiography, Al-Ayym (3 vol., 192967; The Days), the first modern Arab literary work to be
acclaimed in the West.
Th Husayn was born in modest circumstances and was blinded by an illness at age two. In
1902 he was sent to al-Azhar seminary in Cairo, the leading Sunni centre of higher Islamic
125

education, but he was soon at odds with its predominantly conservative authorities. In 1908 he
entered the newly opened secular University of Cairo, and in 1914 he was the first to obtain a
doctorate there. Further study at the Sorbonne familiarized him with the culture of the West.
Th Husayn returned to Egypt from France to become a professor of Arabic literature at the
University of Cairo; his career there was frequently stormy, for his bold views enraged religious
conservatives. His application of modern critical methods in Fi al-shir al-jhil (1926; On PreIslamic Poetry) embroiled him in fierce polemics. In this book he contended that a great deal of
the poetry reputed to be pre-Islamic had been forged by Muslims of a later date for various
reasons, one being to give credence to Qurnic myths. For this he was tried for apostasy, but he
was not convicted. In another book, Mustaqbal al-thaqfah f Mis r (1938; The Future of Culture
in Egypt), he expounds his belief that Egypt belongs by heritage to the same wider
Mediterranean civilization that embraces Greece, Italy, and France; it advocates the assimilation
of modern European culture.
Serving as minister of education (195052) in the last government formed by the Wafd party
before the overthrow of the monarchy, T h Husayn vastly extended state education and
abolished school fees. In his later literary work he showed increasing concern for the plight of
the poor and interest in energetic governmental reforms; he also strongly defended the use of
literary over colloquial Arabic.
The first part of Al-Ayym appeared in 1929 (Eng. trans. An Egyptian Childhood) and the second
in 1932 (Eng. trans. The Stream of Days). At age 78 he published a book of memoirs,
Mudhakkirt (1967; Eng. trans. A Passage to France), considered a third volume of Al-Ayym. In
1997 all three parts were published together in English translation as The Days.

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Reflection:

127

Literary
Pieces
In
128

Japan

Priza Stock
Kenzaburo Oe
The story begins at dusk when the narrator Frog and his younger brother finish sifting through
the ashes by the village crematorium, looking for uniquely shaped bones to use as play medals.
Joined by their friend Harelip, nicknamed for his untreated birth defect, the two boys observe the
low overflight of a huge American plane before returning home to the second floor of the village
storehouse. Their taciturn father prepares the evening meal, after which the boys and their father
go to bed.
Before morning, the village is awakened by the sound of a huge crash farther up in the
mountains. The adult men go to investigate, forbidding the children to trail along. Harelip
amuses himself by letting the village girls play with his penis at the communal spring. In the
evening, the men return with their catch, the black American soldier who survived the plane
crash. None of the villagers has ever seen an African American, and they consider him less an
enemy than a strange big beast.

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Because they cannot talk with their prisoner, they lock him in the basement of the storeroom and
chain his ankles with a boar trap.

Kenzaburo Oe

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Kenzaburo Oe was born in 1935, in a village hemmed in by the forests of Shikoku, one of the
four main islands of Japan. His family had lived in the village tradition for several hundred years,
and no one in the Oe clan had ever left the village in the valley. Even after Japan embarked on
modernization soon after the Meiji Restoration, and it became customary for young people in the
provinces to leave their native place for Tokyo or the other large cities, the Oes remained in Osemura. Maps no longer show the small hamlet by name because it was annexed by a neighbouring
town. The women of the Oe clan had long assumed the role of storytellers and had related the
historical events of the region, including the two uprisings that occurred there before and after
the Meiji Restoration. They also told of events closer in nature to legend than to history. These
stories, of a unique cosmology and of the human condition therein, which Oe heard told since his
infancy, left him with an indelible mark.

Reflection:

131

Visu the Woodsman and the Old Priest

Anonymous
Many years ago there lived on the then barren plain of Suruga a woodsman by the name of Visu.
He was a giant in stature, and lived in a hut with his wife and children.
One day Visu received a visit from an old priest, who said to him: "Honorable woodsman, I am
afraid you never pray."
Visu replied: "If you had a wife and a large family to keep, you would never have time to pray."
This remark made the priest angry, and the old man gave the woodcutter a vivid description of
the horror of being reborn as a toad, or a mouse, or an insect for millions of years. Such lurid
details were not to Visu's liking, and he accordingly promised the priest that in future he would
pray.
"Work and pray," said the priest as he took his departure.
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Unfortunately Visu did nothing but pray. He prayed all day long and refused to do any work, so
that his rice crops withered and his wife and family starved. Visu's wife, who had hitherto never
said a harsh or bitter word to her husband, now became extremely angry, and, pointing to the
poor thin bodies of her children, she exclaimed: "Rise, Visu, take up your ax and do something
more helpful to us all than the mere mumbling of prayers!"
Visu was so utterly amazed at what his wife had said that it was some time before he could think
of a fitting reply. When he did so his words came hot and strong to the ears of his poor, muchwronged wife.
"Woman," said he, "the Gods come first. You are an impertinent creature to speak to me so, and I
will have nothing more to do with you!" Visu snatched up his ax and, without looking round to
say farewell, he left the hut, strode out of the wood, and climbed up Fujiyama, where a mist hid
him from sight.
When Visu had seated himself upon the mountain he heard a soft rustling sound, and
immediately afterward saw a fox dart into a thicket. Now Visu deemed it extremely lucky to see
a fox, and, forgetting his prayers, he sprang up, and ran hither and thither in the hope of again
finding this sharp-nosed little creature.
He was about to give up the chase when, coming to an open space in a wood, he saw two ladies
sitting down by a brook playing go. The woodsman was so completely fascinated that he could
do nothing but sit down and watch them. There was no sound except the soft click of pieces on
the board and the song of the running brook. The ladies took no notice of Visu, for they seemed
to be playing a strange game that had no end, a game that entirely absorbed their attention. Visu
could not keep his eyes off these fair women. He watched their long black hair and the little
quick hands that shot out now and again from their big silk sleeves in order to move the pieces.

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After he had been sitting there for three hundred years, though to him it was but a summer's
afternoon, he saw that one of the players had made a false move. "Wrong, most lovely lady!" he
exclaimed excitedly. In a moment these women turned into foxes and ran away.
When Visu attempted to pursue them he found to his horror that his limbs were terribly stiff, that
his hair was very long, and that his beard touched the ground. He discovered, moreover, that the
handle of his ax, though made of the hardest wood, had crumbled away into a little heap of dust.
After many painful efforts Visu was able to stand on his feet and proceed very slowly toward his
little home. When he reached the spot he was surprised to see no hut, and, perceiving a very old
woman, he said: "Good lady, I am amazed to find that my little home has disappeared. I went
away this afternoon, and now in the evening it has vanished!"
The old woman, who believed that a madman was addressing her, inquired his name. When she
was told, she exclaimed: "Bah! You must indeed be mad! Visu lived three hundred years ago! He
went away one day, and he never came back again."
"Three hundred years!" murmured Visu. "It cannot be possible. Where are my dear wife and
children?"
"Buried!" hissed the old woman, "and, if what you say is true, you children's children too. The
Gods have prolonged your miserable life in punishment for having neglected your wife and little
children."
Big tears ran down Visu's withered cheeks as he said in a husky voice: "I have lost my manhood.
I have prayed when my dear ones starved and needed the labor of my once strong hands. Old
woman, remember my last words: "If you pray, work too!"
We do not know how long the poor but repentant Visu lived after he returned from his strange
adventures. His white spirit is still said to haunt Fujiyama when the moon shines brightly.

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Reflection:

135

The Moon
Looking at the moon
It is deep full of love
I wonder what it would be like
Being a star in the sky
I will dance around the moon
But wishing to be the one to shine the most
So many starts in the sky
But there is only one moon

136

I could be your star

Because you are the only moon
Tonight, you shall dance with me
And choose me among the other stars

Reflection:

137

Aeneid
PUBLIUS VIRGILIUS MARO (VIRGIL)
It begins with the adventures of Aeneas, son of Venus, Roman goddess of beauty,
is a Trojan hero and a cousin of Hectors, and like Hector he is a brave warrior. The story begins
with the burning of Troy and the massacre of the men while the women and children are carried
off into slavery. Aeneas is saved by his mother, and together with his father Anchises and his son
Ascanius and a few other Trojans, he sails away from burning Troy. Their destination is Latium,
where they intend to found a Trojan colony. But their ships are driven from their course by
Athena, who is angry with Aeneas. They land in Carthage, in Northern Africa, where they are
welcomed by Queen Dido. The queen falls in love with Aeneas and makes him co-ruler of
Carthage. But Aeneas has a great destiny to be the founder of Rome and much as he would

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like to stay with Dido, he is commanded by Zeus to leave for Latium. Dido, brokenhearted,
commits suicide as Aeneas sails away.
He passes through many dangers paralleling some of the adventures of Odysseus.
These include the adventure with Polyphemus, the one-eyed giant, the descent into the
underworld, and the celebration of the funeral games to honor the anniversary of his fathers
death. In the underworld, there appear to him the souls of future heroes of Rome.
He reaches Latium and gains the friendship of King Latinus, the ruler of Latium.
Oracles have foretold that the only daughter of the king, Lavinia, would marry a foreigner and
become the mother of an imperial line. Aeneas has a rival for the hand of Lavinia in the brave
and powerful Turnus.
A battle begins between the Trojans and the Latiums, and after many pitched
encounters, Aeneas defeats Turnus in single combat and gains the hand of Lavinia. He becomes
king, and in ceremonial rites required by the gods, a new nation is formed and the Trojans are
named Latins.

PUBLIUS VIRGILIUS MARO (VIRGIL)

He was the greatest writer that Rome produced; what Homer was to the Greeks,
Virgil was to the Romans.
He was born in 70 B.C. in Mantua, one of the loveliest countrysides in Italy.
His childhood was spent among the fields and woods, springs and pools, that made him
close to nature.
He had an excellent education in philosophy, and a love for this discipline remained with
him all his life where he learned one of the great laws of art; his works are therefore an

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ideal combination of subject matter and form.

He began as a lyric poet of great passion and melody.
He learned Greek at Neapolis (Naples) from the grammarian Parthenius.
He first visited Rome 41 B.C. in his 30th year where he was introduced to Octavianus and
further formed the acquaintance of his great protector, Maecenas.
He died in the 52nd year of his age, 19 B.C. but his body is removed to Naples and buried
at the second mile-stone from that city, on the Puteolan Way.
He first received his first education when he was five years old and that later went to Rome to
study rhetoric, medicine, and astronomy, which he soon abandoned for philosophy; also that in
this period, while in the school of Siro the Epicurean, he began to write poetry.
He worked on the Aeneid, his masterpiece, during the last ten years of his life.
He died of a fever when he was traveling to Greece.
He is best known for his three major works the Eclogues or Bucolics, the Georgics, and the
Aeneid although several minor poems are also attributed to him such as Catalepton consists of
fourteen short poems, the Culex a short narrative poem.
Reflection:

140

Cleopatra
Horace
Nows the time for drinking deep, and nows the time
to beat the earth with unfettered feet, the time
to set out the gods sacred couches,
my friends, and prepare a Salian feast.
It would have been wrong, before today, to broach
the Caecuban wines from out the ancient bins,
while a maddened queen was still plotting
the Capitols and the empires ruin,

141

with her crowd of deeply-corrupted creatures

sick with turpitude, she, violent with hope
of all kinds, and intoxicated
by Fortunes favour. But it calmed her frenzy
that scarcely a single ship escaped the flames,
and Caesar reduced the distracted thoughts, bred
by Mareotic wine, to true fear,
pursuing her close as she fled from Rome,
out to capture that deadly monster, bind her,
as the sparrow-hawk follows the gentle dove
or the swift hunter chases the hare,
over the snowy plains of Thessaly.
But she, intending to perish more nobly,
showed no sign of womanish fear at the sword,
nor did she even attempt to win
with her speedy ships to some hidden shore.
And she dared to gaze at her fallen kingdom
with a calm face, and touch the poisonous asps
with courage, so that she might drink down
their dark venom, to the depths of her heart,

growing fiercer still, and resolving to die:

scorning to be taken by hostile galleys,
and, no ordinary woman, yet queen
no longer, be led along in proud triumph.

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Horace
Horace, Latin in full Quintus Horatius Flaccus

(born December 65 bc, Venusia, Italydied

Nov. 27, 8 bc, Rome), outstanding Latin lyric poet and satirist under the emperor Augustus. The

143

most frequent themes of his Odes and verse Epistles are love, friendship, philosophy, and the art
of poetry.
Life
Horace was probably of the Sabellian hillman stock of Italys central highlands. His father had
once been a slave but gained freedom before Horaces birth and became an auctioneers assistant.
He also owned a small property and could afford to take his son to Rome and ensure personally
his getting the best available education in the school of a famous fellow Sabellian named
Orbilius (a believer, according to Horace, in corporal punishment). In about 46 bc Horace went
to Athens, attending lectures at the Academy. After Julius Caesars murder in March 44 bc, the
eastern empire, including Athens, came temporarily into the possession of his assassins Brutus
and Cassius, who could scarcely avoid clashing with Caesars partisans, Mark Antony and
Octavian (later Augustus), the young great-nephew whom Caesar, in his will, had appointed as
his personal heir. Horace joined Brutus army and was made tribunus militum, an exceptional
honour for a freedmans son.
In November 42, at the two battles of Philippi against Antony and Octavian, Horace and his
fellow tribunes (in the unusual absence of a more senior officer) commanded one of Brutus and
Cassius legions. After their total defeat and death, he fled back to Italycontrolled by Octavian
but his fathers farm at Venusia had been confiscated to provide land for veterans. Horace,
however, proceeded to Rome, obtaining, either before or after a general amnesty of 39 bc, the
minor but quite important post of one of the 36 clerks of the treasury (scribae quaestorii). Early
in 38 bc he was introduced to Gaius Maecenas, a man of letters from Etruria in central Italy who
was one of Octavians principal political advisers. He now enrolled Horace in the circle of
writers with whom he was friendly. Before long, through Maecenas, Horace also came to
Octavians notice.
During these years, Horace was working on Book I of the Satires, 10 poems written in hexameter
verse and published in 35 bc. The Satires reflect Horaces adhesion to Octavians attempts to deal
with the contemporary challenges of restoring traditional morality, defending small landowners
from large estates (latifundia), combating debt and usury, and encouraging novi homines (new
144

men) to take their place next to the traditional republican aristocracy. The Satires often exalt the
new man, who is the creator of his own fortune and does not owe it to noble lineage. Horace
develops his vision with principles taken from Hellenistic philosophy: metriotes (the just mean)
and autarkeia (the wise mans self-sufficiency). The ideal of the just mean allows Horace, who is
philosophically an Epicurean, to reconcile traditional morality with hedonism. Self-sufficiency is
the basis for his aspiration for a quiet life, far from political passions and unrestrained ambition.
In the 30s bc his 17 Epodes were also under way. Mockery here is almost fierce, the metre being
that traditionally used for personal attacks and ridicule, though Horace attacks social abuses, not
individuals. The tone reflects his anxious mood after Philippi. Horace used his commitment to
the ideals of Alexandrian poetry to draw near to the experiences of Catullus and other poetae
novi (New Poets) of the late republic. Their political verse, however, remained in the fields of
invective and scandal, while Horace, in Epodes 7, 9, and 16, shows himself sensitive to the tone
of political life at the time, the uncertainty of the future before the final encounter between
Octavian and Mark Antony, and the weariness of the people of Italy in the face of continuing
violence. In doing so, he drew near to the ideals of the Archaic Greek lyric, in which the poet
was also the bard of the community, and the poets verse could be expected to have a political
effect. In his erotic Epodes, Horace began assimilating themes of the Archaic lyric into the
Hellenistic atmosphere, a process that would find more mature realization in the Odes.
In the mid-30s he received from Maecenas, as a gift or on lease, a comfortable house and farm in
the Sabine hills (identified with considerable probability as one near Licenza, 22 miles [35
kilometres] northeast of Rome), which gave him great pleasure throughout his life. After
Octavian had defeated Antony and Cleopatra at Actium, off northwestern Greece (31 bc), Horace
published his Epodes and a second book of eight Satires in 3029 bc. In the first Satires Horace
had limited himself to attacking relatively unimportant figures (e.g., businessmen, courtesans,
and social bores). The second Satires is even less aggressive, insisting that satire is a defensive
weapon to protect the poet from the attacks of the malicious. The autobiographical aspect
becomes less important; instead, the interlocutor becomes the depository of a truth that is often
quite different from that of other speakers. The poet delegates to others the job of critic. The
denunciations do not always seem consistent with Horaces usual point of view, and sometimes it
145

is hard to tell when Horace is being ironic and when he is indulging in genuinely serious
reflection.
While the victor of Actium, styled Augustus in 27 bc, settled down, Horace turned, in the most
active period of his poetical life, to the Odes, of which he published three books, comprising 88
short poems, in 23 bc. Horace, in the Odes, represented himself as heir to earlier Greek lyric
poets but displayed a sensitive, economical mastery of words all his own. He sings of love, wine,
nature (almost romantically), of friends, of moderation; in short, his favourite topics.
The Odes describe the poets personal experiences and familiarize the reader with his everyday
world; they depict the customs of a sophisticated and refined Roman society that is as fully
civilized as the great Hellenistic Greek cities. The unique charm of Horaces lyric poetry arises
from his combination of the metre and style of the distant pastthe world of the Archaic Greek
lyric poetswith descriptions of his personal experience and the important moments of Roman
life. He creates an intermediate space between the real world and the world of his imagination,
populated with fauns, nymphs, and other divinities.
Some of the Odes are about Maecenas or Augustus: although he praises the ancient Roman
virtues the latter was trying to reintroduce, he remains his own master and never confines an ode
to a single subject or mood. When he was composing the Odes, Horace was solidly linked to
Maecenas and his circle, and Horaces political verse seems to express the ideological
commitments of the principate, Augustuss government. He denounces corrupt morals, praises
the integrity of the people of Italy, and shows a ruler who carries on his shoulders the burden of
power. Other Augustan themes that appear in Horaces lyric verse include the idea of the
universal character and eternity of Roman political dominion and the affirmation of the
continuity of the republican tradition with the Augustan principate. At some stage Augustus
offered Horace the post of his private secretary, but the poet declined on the plea of ill health.
Notwithstanding, Augustus did not resent his refusal, and indeed their relationship became
closer.

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Reflection:

147

OUR DUTIES ARE IN RELATION TO ONE ANOTHER

Epictetus
Feel unique in roiling solitude? Oh, you are not alone
though you may feel fallen, snow up your nose. Join
with others in your dank reclusion.
How do you find something worth saying?
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How do you find desire to find desire

to find something worth saying?
And yes. That is where you might be: twice
or is it thriceremoved in a receding
mirror of acedia. Finding a way to
find a way to want to find a way back in
to conversation. This is what negative numbers
(a negative soul) feel like: You want to want to want...

If you go back far enoughlateral excavation

will you hit bone? So many converging lines yakking
to themselves over a haywire switchboard
you used to find out who you were through
cookie crumbs tossed down your own path.
Now that you have no crumbs, dont
even have pockets to turn outonly the memory
of such acts, such things. How weary, stale, and
profligate it seems to be to plasticize these
lines. Youre in a hamless state of mind.
Now get out and talk to anyone your age: Like you
theyve all got Death studded on the tongue, which
livelies up the talk they walk.

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Epictetus
Epictetus (AD 55 AD 135) was a Greek Stoic philosopher. He practiced and taught his
Stoicism about four hundred years after the institution of Stoic belief with Zeno was established
in Athens and taken up by a few other notable Stoics including Seneca and Marcus Aurelius. As
150

with many ancient philosophers, many of Epictetus' writings and teachings come to us through
second hand and it is greatly debated whether the writings we have are written by Epictetus' own
hand or by his pupil, Arrian. Whether or not they were explicitly recorded by one or the other,
the partial works that survive of Epictetus' are entitled the Discourses and the Encheiridion or, in
Enlglish, the Handbook.
'Epictetus' was probably not the name that this Stoic philosopher was given at birth as the Greek
'epiktetus' means 'acquired' a term that would have applied to him as he was a slave during his
youth. He was born in Hierapolis, a Greek city in Phrygia within Asia Minor and owned by
Epaphroditus, an administrator in Nero's court. They mostly resided in Rome although there was
a point when Epaphroditus had to leave due to conflict but probably returned when Domitian
came into power. The position of his master may have been what allowed Epictetus to study
some with Musonius Rufus, who taught the Stoic school of philosophy as well as held a position
as a Roman senator. At some point, Epictetus gained his freedom and began to teach philosophy.
When Domitian banished the philosophers from Rome (89 AD), Epictetus left and built his own
school in Nicopolis in Northwest Greece. His school was popular among well-to-do Romans
(one being Flavian Arrian who was instrumental in preserving Epictetus' teachings) and Origen
claims that the popularity of Epictetus in his own time surpassed that of Plato.

Reflection:

151

Literary
Pieces
In
Italy

152

I Turn Back at Every Step I Take

Petrarca
I turn back at every step I take
with weary body that has borne great pain,
and take comfort then from your aspect
that makes me go on, saying: Ah me!
Then thinking of the sweet good I leave,
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of the long road, and of my brief life,

I halt my steps, dismayed and pale,
and lower my eyes weeping to the ground.
Sometimes a doubt assails me in the midst
of sad tears: how can these limbs
live separated from their spirit?
But Love replies: Do you not remember
that this is the privilege of lovers,
freed from every other human tie?
Reflection:

154

You who hear the sound, in scattered rhymes,

Petrarca
You who hear the sound, in scattered rhymes,
of those sighs on which I fed my heart,
in my first vagrant youthfulness,
when I was partly other than I am,

155

I hope to find pity, and forgiveness,

for all the modes in which I talk and weep,
between vain hope and vain sadness,
in those who understand love through its trials.
Yet I see clearly now I have become
an old tale amongst all these people, so that
it often makes me ashamed of myself;
and shame is the fruit of my vanities,
and remorse, and the clearest knowledge
of how the worlds delight is a brief dream.
Reflection:

156

To make a graceful act of revenge,

Petrarca
To make a graceful act of revenge,
and punish a thousand wrongs in a single day,
Love secretly took up his bow again,
like a man who waits the time and place to strike.

157

My power was constricted in my heart,

making defence there, and in my eyes,
when the mortal blow descended there,
where all other arrows had been blunted.
So, confused by the first assault,
it had no opportunity or strength
to take up arms when they were needed,
or withdraw me shrewdly to the high,
steep hill, out of the torment,
from which it wishes to save me now but cannot.
Reflection:

158

159

Petrarca
Petrarch was born Francesco Petrarca on July 20, 1304, in Arezzo, Tuscany. He was a devoted
classical scholar who is considered the "Father of Humanism," a philosophy that helped spark the
Renaissance. Petrarch's writing includes well-known odes to Laura, his idealized love. His
writing was also used to shape the modern Italian language. He died at age 69 on July 18 or 19,
1374, in Arqu, Carrara.
Francesco Petrarcawhose anglicized name is Petrarchwas born on July 20, 1304, in Arezzo,
Tuscany (now Italy). With his family, he moved to Avignon, France, as a child. In France,
Petrarch studied law, as his father had wished. However, his passion was for literature,
particularly that of ancient Greece and Rome. After his father's death in 1326, Petrarch left law to
focus on the classics.

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