The
largest deserts in the world occur in the Arctic and Antarctic, North Africa and
the Middle East, Central Australia, Central Asia, Southern Africa, Patagonia,
and the Western United States.
Yet it is
only in the Middle East that a very influential mythic literature of the desert
dating from ancient times was written—the Bible. It’s a curious fact.
The motif
of the desert is the opposite of the archetype of water, and, with the exception
of frozen climes, of the archetypes of the sources of water in the desert—the rain
and the river.
If water
represents life, the desert stands for the converse, death. Water is a symbol
of renewal and rebirth through cleansing. In contrast, the desert is a sign of water’s
antecedent in the cycle of the spiritual life—spiritual death, or the purgation
before rebirth.
Fraught
with spiritual meaning, the desert is a central motif of the Bible, one of a
handful of the most influential works of world spirituality.
Modern
literature continues to feature the desert in its storied archetypal role, evoking
emptiness and desolation, often indicating a spiritual quality.
In Wind, Sand and Stars (1939) by Antoine
de Saint-Exupéry, the author describes ten harrowing days with his mechanic marooned
in the desert of Libya before he is rescued by Bedouins. In this narrative has
been detected the germ of his celebrated novella The Little Prince (1943), a type of wisdom literature which to date
has sold 140 million copies worldwide. The desert in Saint-Exupéry’s works is a
place of spiritual discovery.
In Albert
Camus’ existentialist classic The Plague
(1947), a fictional tale about the protagonists in a cholera epidemic taking
place at Oran, French Algeria, the desert stands for an existentialist universe—implacable,
inert, utterly indifferent to the afflictions of a tormented humanity.
Although the
desert is also expounded for its beauty, this perspective is relatively recent.
John Charles Van Dyke’s The Desert
(1918) or Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire
(1968) come to mind. They celebrate the singular beauty, unspoiled, of the American
Southwest desert.
The first
poem featured here is from the Bible, Hosea 2:4-25.
Hosea,
classified by scholars as a “minor” prophet, in contrast to “major” prophets
like Isaiah and Jeremiah, belongs to the early period of prophecy in ancient
Israel, before the destruction of the Northern Kingdom by the Assyrians in 722
B.C.E. Hosea’s prophecy dates from 760-720 B.C.E.
Hosea
prophesies the fall of the Northern Kingdom as a consequence of the nation’s
infidelity to Abraham’s Covenant with Yahweh.
In Hosea’s
allegory, Israel is a harlot who has given herself over to the worship of the
gods of Canaan even as Yahweh remains faithful to her as spouse and lover. Yahweh
says he will draw Israel into the desert and purify her there, speaking to her
heart and renewing with her the everlasting covenant. He will restore his
blessings toward her, blessings as in the days of her youth when she was
liberated from the slavery of Egypt.
According
to this prophecy Hosea recapitulates the desert as a place and symbol of
purification and revelation during Israel’s forty-year sojourn before the
nation entered the Promised Land.
The
imagery is extraordinary and retains its freshness and power more than 2,700
years later.
Hosea’s
words written down are the heritage of an oral tradition that directly
originates from the prophet’s mouth.
Hosea 2:4-25 (New American Bible)
Protest
against your mother, protest! for she is not my wife, and I am not her husband.
Let her remove her harlotry from before her, her adultery from between her
breasts,
Or I will
strip her naked, leaving her as on the day of her birth; I will make her like
the desert, reduce her to an arid land, and slay her with thirst.
I will
have no pity on her children, for they are the children of harlotry.
Yes, their
mother has played the harlot; she that conceived them has acted shamefully. “I
will go after my lovers,” she said, “who give me my bread and my water, my wool
and my flax, my oil and my drink.”
Since she
has not known that it was I who gave her the grain, the wine, and the oil, And
her abundance of silver, and of gold, which they used for Baal,
Therefore
I will take back my grain in its time, and my wine in its season; I will snatch
away my wool and my flax, with which she covers her nakedness.
So now I
will lay bare her shame before the eyes of her lovers, and no one can deliver
her out of my hand.
I will
bring an end to all her joy, her feasts, her new moons, her sabbaths, and all
her solemnities.
I will lay
waste her vines and fig trees, of which she said, “These are the hire my
lovers have given me”; I will turn them into rank growth and wild beasts
shall devour them.
I will
punish her for the days of the Baals, for whom she burnt incense while she
decked herself out with her rings and her jewels, and, in going after her
lovers, forgot me, says the Lord.
Therefore,
I will hedge in her way with thorns and erect a wall against her, so that she
cannot find her paths.
If she
runs after her lovers, she shall not overtake them; if she looks for them she
shall not find them. Then she shall say, “I will go back to my first husband,
for it was better with me then than now.”
So I will
allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart.
From there
I will give her the vineyards she had, and the valley of Achor as a door of
hope. She shall respond there as in the days of her youth, when she came up
from the land of Egypt.
On that
day, says the Lord, She shall call me “My husband,” and never again “My baal.”
Then will
I remove from her mouth the names of the Baals, so that they shall no longer be
invoked.
I will
make a covenant for them on that day, with the beasts of the field, with the
birds of the air, and with the things that crawl on the ground. Bow and sword
and war I will destroy from the land, and I will let them take their rest in
security.
I will
espouse you to me forever: I will espouse you in right and in justice, in love
and in mercy;
I will
espouse you in fidelity, and you shall know the Lord.
On that
day I will respond, says the Lord; I will respond to the heavens, and they
shall respond to the earth;
The earth
shall respond to the grain, and wine, and oil, and these shall respond to
Jezreel.
—1970 New
American Bible translation
Stephen
Crane is most renowned for his masterpiece, The
Red Badge of Courage (1895), a fictional account of a Union soldier during
the U.S. Civil War written in the style of Realism.
He is less
well known for his poetry. “In the Desert” comes down to us more than one
hundred years later with all of its original energy, deriving principally from Crane’s
precise description of his unusually powerful and striking vision.
IN THE
DESERT by Stephen Crane
In the
desert
I saw a
creature, naked, bestial,
Who,
squatting upon the ground,
Held his
heart in his hands,
And ate of
it.
I said,
“Is it good, friend?”
“It is
bitter—bitter,” he answered;
“But I
like it
“Because
it is bitter,
“And
because it is my heart.”
I would opine
that this poem is best understood in the context of three influential Continental
movements at the time—Realism, Naturalism, and especially, Symbolism.
Darkly, the
poem in tone and feeling recalls the spirit of Realism and Naturalism, that is,
their occupation with the sordid realities, especially the social afflictions,
of the day.
Principally,
the idiom of the poem is Symbolism—Crane invokes a fantastical image that communicates
his inner subjectivity and at the same time elicits a strong emotional response
from the reader.
TAKLAMAKAN DESERT by Ko Un
https://hocopolitso.org/2015/11/10/manas-musings-lost-and-gained-in-translation/
“Taklamakan
Desert” by Ko Un is notable because, among other reasons, it is a contemporary poem
originally composed in Korean about a place most of the world population has
never even heard of, much less visited.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/article/249042
Incidentally,
the author has been hailed as a frontrunner for the Nobel Prize in Literature. In
my view his celebrity status is secondary to the merits of the poem in and by
itself.
TAKLAMAKAN DESERT by Ko Un
Original
language Korean
Translated
by Suji Kwock Kim and Sunja Kim Kwock
Why I’m
going to the Taklamakan Desert:
the
emptiness there.
Why I’m
going to the Taklamakan Desert
at
seventy-five, leaving all words behind: the cry
of the
emptiness there.
Why I’m
going to the Taklamakan Desert:
I can no
longer stand
the
world’s greed
or mine.
There, in
the Taklamakan Desert,
Translation
was originally published in Poetry (November
2014).
The
original Korean is available here:
—“Mana’s
Musing: Lost and Gained in Translation,” Hocopolitso: Let There Be Lit, by
Laura Yoo
Keen, minimalist
in imagery and diction, the poem broadcasts a powerful statement—“I can no
longer stand / the world’s greed / or mine.”
An
important reason why the poem succeeds in English is because of the skill of
the translators, who reworked the piece for “greater spareness,” among other
attributes.
See:
—“Translator’s
Note: Three Poems by Ko Un,” Poetry (November
2014) by Suji Kwock Kim
Recently, Ko
Un was embroiled in a public scandal involving accusations of sexual harassment
and abuse, and the imbroglio has affected his Nobel Prize candidacy.
Photo courtesy of Prashant Ram
ReplyDeletePhoto link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/stupid_dream/8874663951
Gonzalinho
Perseverance in prayer and works of virtue despite prolonged aridity is a very characteristic feature of desert spirituality. The monk enters this desert and is thereby purified of their faults and proven in love. The monk loves the desert because it is there that he or she finds God.
ReplyDeleteGonzalinho