As a matter of fact, his best friend did the same thing while Gibran was still alive. Gibran protested, “Don’t mention to me my past deeds, for the remembrance of them makes my blood into a burning fire.”

This does not mean that all the early works of Gibran were trivial or unimportant, especially when we consider that Gibran died at the age of forty-eight (December 6, 1883 — April 10, 1931).

A word of caution: Keep in mind that many items now in book form were originally written in a letter to a friend or in an article to a newspaper.

Reprints

Most, if not all, of Gibran’s works have been through numerous reprints. Some of these reprints fail to carry the date of the original publication or the date and source of the material, particularly the Arabic editions, whose front page carries the year of reprint.

How can future biographers determine the time and circumstances under which a newspaper article was written?

For example, the Arabic edition reads: “Spirits Rebellious by Gibran, 1959.” The English edition, published by Heinemann, reads: “The Spirits Rebellious by Gibran, translated from Arabic; first published 1949.” But the introduction explains that the stories were completed in 1908.

Barbara Young wrote that the book was written and burned in the market place in Beirut between 1901 and 1903.

Quotation Marks

There are no quotation marks in Arabic writing. However, Arabic students of English or French do use quotation marks, often haphazardly.

One Lebanese biographer wrote some paragraphs in Arabic, using quotation marks, describing them as the work of Gibran. In reality, the quotation marks were meant to signify that they were figments of the biographer’s own imagination. In translation these marks were not removed. A biographer writing in English, especially one who is not familiar with the Arabic language, accepts the quotation marks as an indication that the statements are Gibran’s own saying and beliefs.

This confusion is unfair to Gibran, unfair to future writers and unfair to the reader. Therefore these words of caution become imperative.

1.   See the book One White Race.

5. GIBRAN’S DUAL PERSONALITY

Man is the product of his environment. When Gibran was born, the economic conditions of the Middle East were bad and political conditions were even worse. For many years Turkey had been involved in wars, of which she was always the loser. Thus, the boundaries of the Empire were shrinking. Meanwhile, inside Turkey, the government grew more and more tyrannical. Minority groups in all parts of the Empire were abused and persecuted. It was true that the Lebanese were exempt from military service because of the local autonomy granted them in 1860 under pressure of the European nations, but it was also true that many families were moving from the cities into the mountains to avoid the dreaded military service. Many Moslem families changed to Christianity.

The whole Arab world became honeycombed with secret societies working to throw off the Turkish yoke. The Turkish government, trusting no one, systematically discharged non-Turks from government offices and replaced them with Turkish citizens; even judges were removed from their high offices. These secret societies even dared to send delegates to an Arab conference held in Paris. Many Syrian and Lebanese men from America attended the conference and made demands for reform. Many of the leaders paid with their lives. They were hanged in public squares for others to see and take heed.

Gibran, a young man in the United States and beyond the rope of the hangman, called his countrymen to revolt. He wrote articles for Arabic publication, using the words, “my countrymen.” These articles translated into English without benefit of explanations gave the impression that Gibran was calling the people of his adopted country of America to rebellion. Hence we find in Gibran a dual personality; he wrote in Arabic calling for arms, and in English calling for contentment and peace.

The following is an example of Gibran’s writing to his countrymen, published in translation without explanation:

My Countrymen

by Kahlil Gibran

What do you seek of me my countrymen?

Do you wish that I falsely promise to build

For you great palaces out of words, and temples roofed with dreams?

Or would you rather I destroy the work of liars and cowards and demolish the work of hypocrites and tyrants?

What would you have me do, My Countrymen?

Shall I coo like a pigeon to please you,

Or shall I roar like a lion to please myself?

I sang for you but you did not dance;

I lamented but you did not cry.

Do you wish that I sing and lament at the same time?

Your souls are hungry and the bread of knowledge is more plentiful than the stones of the valleys, but you do not eat.

Your hearts thirst, yet the springs of life pour around your homes like rivers, and you do not drink.

The sea has its ebb and tide, the moon its crescent and fullness, and the year has its seasons of summer and winter, but Justice never changes, never falters, never perishes.

Why, then, do you attempt to distort the truth?

I have called you in the quietness of the night to point out to you the beauty of the moon and the dignity of the stars. You arise, frightened, and unsheathing your swords, cry, “Where is the enemy — to be struck down?”

At dawn, when the horsemen of the enemy arrived, I called again, but you refused to rise. You remained asleep, at war with the enemy in your dreams.

I told you, “Let us climb to the summit of the mountain where I can show you the kingdoms of the world.” You answered saying, “In the bottom of the valley of this mountain our fathers and forefathers lived; and in its shadows they died; and in its caves were they buried. How shall we leave and go to places to which they did not go?” I told you, “Let us go to the plains and I will show you gold mines and treasures of the earth.”

You refused, saying, “In the plains lurk thieves and robbers.”

I told you, “Let us go to the seashore where the sea gives of its bounties.” You refused, saying, “The tumult of the abyss frightens us to death.”

I loved you, My Countrymen, yet my love for you distressed me and did not benefit you.

Today I hate you, and hate is a flood that carries away the dead branches and washes away crumbling buildings.

I pitied your weakness, but my pity encouraged your sloth.…

What are your demands from me, My Countrymen?

Rather what are your demands from Life,

Although no longer do I consider you children of Life.

Your souls cringe in the palms of soothsayers and sorcerers, while your bodies tremble in the paws of the bloody tyrants, and your country lies prostrate under the heels of the conquerors: what do you expect as you stand before the face of the sun? Your swords are rusty; the points of your spears are broken; your shields are covered with mud. Why, then, do you stand upon the battlefield?

Hypocrisy is your religion; Pretension, your life; dust, your end.

Why do you live? Death is the only rest for the wretched.

Life is determination in youth, strife during manhood, and wisdom in maturity. But you, My Countrymen, were born old and feeble, your heads shrunk,

Your skin withered, and you became as children, playing in the mire, and throwing stones at one another.…

Humanity is a crystalline river, singing, in a rippling rush, and carrying the secrets of the mountains to the depths of the sea. But you are as a swamp with worms in its dregs and snakes on its banks.

The soul is a sacred, blue-burning flame, illuminating the faces of the gods. But your souls, My Countrymen, are ashes for the wind to scatter over the snows, and for the tempest to dispel into the deep abysses.

I hate you, My Countrymen, because you despise glory and greatness.

I vilify you because you vilify yourselves.

I am your enemy because you are enemies of the gods and you do not know it.

The day of reckoning came during the First World War.