A Treasury of Kahlil Gibran Read Online

Treasury of Kahlil Gibran

A Treasury of Kahlil Gibran

Kahlil Gibran

Edited by Martin L. Wolf

Translated from Arabic by
Anthony Rizcallah Ferris

Philosophical Library

EDITOR’S PREFACE

THE IMMORTAL WRITINGS of Kahlil Gibran, the Prophet of Lebanon, possess a rare and distinctive flavor of ancient wisdom and mysticism that is equaled by few—if any—in the history of world literature. Small wonder, then, that the reader never ceases to be amazed at Gibran’s recency to this world and age (1883–1931). The delicacy of his mind, the visions of his inner eyes, and the vast but simple insight displayed by his every parable combine to present a momentary incongruity. It is quickly dispelled, however, for one soon realizes that Gibran is of all ages.

The brilliance of Gibran will ever continue to surprise and perplex his millions of followers in dozens of languages. This strange man, born in the shadow of the Holy Cedars of Lebanon, exhibits a weirdly beautiful approach to life and death in all of his writings, never fully revealing the purpose behind his abrupt and intense changes in thought and style … from the laciest and tenderest language and meaning to the bitterest and angriest outpourings known to literature. After an attempted analysis that ended in utter despair, a group of scholars at a leading American university could only conclude, Gibran could write timeless truths in a way that makes the reader feel he is taking a walk in a quiet wood, or bathing in a cool stream; it soothes the spirit. But he could also write with a scorch like fire. The tremendous “why” could not be found.

Philosopher and artist, his dynamic brush is no less disturbing than his pen. The searching depths of mysticism, the unfettered glory of youth, and the Elysian beauty of death join forces to render his canvases remarkably fascinating and unique. As for his handling of materials and his artistry of representation, all that need be said is that when Auguste Rodin wished to have his own portrait done, he bypassed the multitude of accomplished and aspiring painters of his day and insisted that Gibran execute the project. Hundreds of Gibran’s oil paintings are on permanent exhibit in a Lebanese museum erected solely as the repository for these works, and numerous of his paintings and drawings are displayed periodically in the large capitals and art centers of the world.

Gibran has a specific, recognizable message to convey, and the simplicity of his style—whether in delicacy or in bitter invective—brings that message to the inner consciousness of the reader quickly, clearly, and effortlessly. A surprising aspect of many of the writings in this, the largest and most comprehensive volume of Gibran’s works ever published, is found in the fact that he was scarcely twenty years old when they were composed and set loose upon the world. In the light of his youth, these works establish unquestioned achievement in literary and philosophic artistry, since they would have been classics coming even at an age of experienced wisdom and mellowness of years. There is broad vision and justifiable anger with respect to religious injustice in John the Madman (Book Two); exquisite beauty of thought and language in his series of Seven Songs (Books One, Three, Four, Five, Six); enormous maturity of understanding in The Life of Love (Book One) and Madame Rose Hanie (Book Five); keen invention of plot and element of surprise in Satan (Book One), one of the few truly original and different forms of literary development to appear in many years; tear-enriched distress in The City of the Dead (Book One) and Contemplations in Sadness (Book Six); mystical strength surpassing William Blake in Ashes of the Ages and Eternal Fire (Book Four); heartfelt pain and bitterness in The Crucified (Book Three).

That Gibran earnestly feels the genuineness of the message he endeavors to carry to the reader is shown in many of his passages, as in the closing words of A Poet’s Voice (Book One), in which he proclaims: What I say now with one heart will be said tomorrow with many hearts. These profound broodings and exaltations in prose and poetry are of particular timeliness in contemplation of the difficulties besetting the world today, and much can be gleaned therefrom in furtherance of tolerance, understanding, and the universal brotherhood of man. His warnings are neither crusades nor preachments, yet every thought is conveyed completely, clearly, dynamically. He muses over the beautiful, not the ugly; over the system, not the crime (The Criminal, Book Three). All of his criticisms are imbued with a gentle melancholy, subordinated finally to his magnificent descriptive powers, abounding with fine, metaphorical terseness.

Reference has been made to Gibran’s youth at the time of these writings, and this factor cannot be regarded lightly, for it renders all the more remarkable his ripe and mature grasp on a subject that has baffled and intrigued philosophers and other thinkers from the beginning—the destiny of man and the inexplicable why of his being. Likewise, his unquestioned mastery of the art of symbolism and simile, sparkling throughout this extensive collection of his writings, is a tribute to his astonishing stature in literary accomplishment, for this is an achievement that few have been able to attain at any age. His sympathetic approach to the prospect of death is also a creature of the mind belonging to the aged, but a knowledge of Gibran’s love for tears, as well as his deep, sincere affection for fellow sufferers, can explain his philosophically pleasant contemplations of death. Numerous instances reveal his full understanding of the facts of maturity and stability in connection with marriage, despite his years. In The Life of Love (Book One), a poem likening the four seasons of the year to the comparable periods of married life, the aging couple exchanges reminiscences in winter time, the husband sighing affectionately:

Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and

Place it by you, so I can read with tears what

Your life with me has written upon your face.

Bring Autumn’s wine. Let us drink and sing the

Song of remembrance to Spring’s carefree sowing,

And Summer’s watchful tending, and Autumn’s

Reward in harvest.

Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the

Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.

Embrace me, for I feel loneliness; the lamp is

Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing

Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before

They are shut.

Surprisingly, the mysticism that characterizes much of Gibran’s writing is found not in his poetry, where it would be granted a great latitude of expression through the very nature of poetic freedom, but in his prose stories exclusively. This feature of his works is not a deterrent to reader interest, for his depth establishes itself at a level of complete lucidity to all who endeavor to find it, and his frequent voyages into the field of mysticism supplement with spiritual argument the precepts of his earthly discourses. His blending of oriental and occidental philosophy is occasionally disconcerting to the Western mind. One invariably has the feeling that the emotions expressed so plainly were too large for words, and were wrenched from him reluctantly through his soul’s compulsion. One cannot fail to recognize in him the strong expression of a passionate urge to improve the lot of suffering, exploited humanity, an impulse that fired his mind and heart from childhood. It is a message, moreover, that emanates from painful, soul-searing knowledge of man’s inhumanity to man, drawn from a poignant memory of what his eyes had seen and his ears had heard in his close observance of the perpetual human tragedy. He conveys his sense of sorrow for the cruel waste of youth and beauty and talent and sensitivity implicit in the neglect and degradation of the millions throughout the East.

But far more than local evils and the abuse of power by Eastern regimes is woven into the living fabric of Gibran’s verbal tapestry. With the moving intensity that characterizes truly significant utterance, his earliest—like his latest—writings project timeless, universal truths.