Dusan Pajin, Ph.D.
Anthologies of poetry (or literature) existed since ancient times. But later came professors of literature, who defined the literary canon, and made scholarly anthologies.
To appear in the Norton or Oxford anthology is to belong to the literary cannon, to have literary (social, aesthetic etc.) status, and accessibility to a reading public. Anyone who has studied literature in a secondary school or university in the western world knows what that means. It means that the works in the canon get read, read by neophyte students and supposedly expert teachers. It also means that to read these privileged works is a privilege and a sign of privilege. It is also a sign that one has been canonized oneself -- beatified by the experience of being introduced to beauty, admitted to the ranks of those of the inner circle who are acquainted with the canon and can judge what belongs and does not. (...) And that is why, of course, it matters that so few women writers have managed to gain entrance to such anthologies, says George P. Landow
Solutions to this more or less systematic dis-appearance of women's works include (1) expanding the canon to include more great women's works recently discovered; (2) changing standards or definitions of the canon, so that forms practiced by women, such as letters and diaries, appear as literature; (3) creating an alternate tradition or canon.
However, involvement with this questions can create a false impression that introduction of women’s poetry is a modern issue (19-20th, century) and that in ancient times women’s poetry (or literary works), neither has been created, or preserved. Let’s have a look.
Few glimpses show us that, in those bygone times, some women were literate, had time and passion to write down their thoughts and feelings (a rare privilege even in much later times), and their writings were included and saved in ancient anthologies.
EGYPT
From the New Kingdom (we would rather say “old kingdom” since it existed in 16-15th c. BC), The Harris Papyrus has been preserved, with some love songs, written by women. One is impressed by frankness and immediacy of feeling of those (anonymous) women writers in ancient Egypt (most writers from ancient Egypt are anonymous). And also, with the discovery that man and woman (almost) have not changed since those times.
If I am (not) with you, where will you set your heart? If you do (not) embrace (me), (where will you go?) If good fortune comes your way, (you still cannot find) happiness. But if you try to touch my thighs and breasts, (Then you’ll be satisfied). (...) Take then my breast: for you its gift overflows. Better indeed is one day in your arms... than a hundred thousand (anywhere) on earth. My love for you is mixed throughout my body like (salt) dipped in water, like a medicine to which gum is added, like milk shot through water... So hurry to see your lady, like a stallion on the track, or like a falcon (swooping down) to its papyri marsh. Heaven sends down the love of her as a flame falls in the hay...(transl. by William Kelly Simpson)
ISRAEL
Song of Songs is in the Hebrew, the Greek, the Christian Canon of the Scriptures (Bible). It belongs to the times of Solomon (Hebrew: Shlomo - fl. mid-10th c. BC). It describes, in reciprocal voices, the love for each other of Solomon and the Sulamit who, as bride and bridegroom, or as lovers, talk with, or of, each other. One part (2:6 to 5:1) describes two chief personages, who approach each other in stately procession, and the day is expressly called the wedding-day. But, the lyrical character of the song is unmistakable, and the development of an external action is not in focus so much as the unfolding of the lyrical expression of feelings.
However, one can ask: who wrote it - God, a woman, or a man? Do we have here a gender problem - one gender trying to describe the feelings of the other. Or the anonymous writer noted down a dialogue of lovers, or of a wedding pair, addressing each other in a poetic love praise. So far, the woman’s voice in this poem seems authentic, and above all: human and poetic. Let us quote just one passage of this women’s poetry.
My beloved is mine, and I am his; he delights in the lilies. While the day is cool and the shadows are dispersing, turn, my beloved, and show yourself a gazelle or a young wild goat on the hills where cinnamon grows. Night after night on my bed I have sought my true love; I have sought him but not found him, I have called him but he has not answered. I said, “I will rise and go to the rounds of the city, through the streets and the squares, seeking my true love? I sought him but I did not find him, I called him but he did not answer. The watchmen, going the rounds of the city, met me, and I asked, “Have you seen my true love?” Scarcely had I left them behind me when I met my true love. I seized him and would no let him go until I had brought him to my mother’s house, to the room of her who conceived me.(Song of Songs, 2:16-17; 3:1-4)
GREECE
Sappho (fl. c. 610-c. 580 BC) belongs to a rich poetic tradition that developed in her native city Mitylene (on island Lesbos, in Aegean sea), but also spent part of her life (twice) in ostracism (expulsion, for political reasons), on Sicily, at that time a Greek colony. Her poetry was greatly admired in all ages, and she exceeded most lyric poets (except Archilochus and Alcaeus), in the history of Greek literature. At that time in Lesbos women of good family would assemble in informal societies and spend their days in graceful pleasures, in composition, recitation, and singing poetry. Sappho was the leading spirit of one of these associations. Her possible lesbian affections are to be set aside in considering her poetry, as we do (ignoring homosexuality) when we consider works of Greek philosophers.
In the era of Alexandrian scholarship realated to the library of Alexandria (3-2nd c. BC), what remained of her work was collected and republished in a standard edition of nine books (The Ennead) of lyrical verse and one of elegiac. They survived into Byzantine times, but in 380 A.D. Gregory of Nazianzus ordered burning of her books, deemed obscene by the Church. Afterwards, Sappho was known only through quotations in other ancient writers, until 1900, when considerable fragments of her work began to be found on papyrus in Egypt, and so only a few hundred lines of her poetry remain. In her lifetime, she invented a 21-string lyre, to accompany herself when she sang her poems. As with other ancient texts and writings (hieroglyphic, Hebrew, Chinese, Japanese) it makes sense - for those who are not fluent in ancient Greek - to read multiple translations to obtain several viewpoints. Her poetry includes a wide gamut of subjects and poetic forms (wedding songs, songs of praise, funeral songs etc.). She wrote with equal skill about delights of love and youth, and sorrows of departure, old age and death. Fragment 58
Age seizes my skin and turns my hair From black to white: My knees no longer bear me And I am unable to dance again Like a fawn. What could I do? I am not ageless: My youth is gone. Red-robed Dawn, immortal goddess, Carried (Tithonus) to earth's end Yet age seized him Despite the gift from his immortal lover .... I love delicate softness: For me, love has brought the brightness And the beauty of the sun ...(transl. by D. W. Myatt)
CHINA
The Book of Songs (Shih ching) was compiled some time after 600 BC. It also includes a rich variety of poetic forms, and also love songs written by women. Most authors are anonymous. Some of these songs are among the most original love songs ever written in world literature (like the first one in our selection). The way to express feelings relating them to parts of outfit in this poem, should not be confused with fetishism. Fetishism is fondness for certain parts of clothes etc. of the opposite gender (not related to a particular person). However, this poem expresses a particular fondness for the loved person, where parts of his clothes are associated with intensive feelings.
That the mere glimpse of a plain cap Could harry me with such longing, Cause pain so dire! That the mere glimpse of a plain coat Could stab my heart with grief! Enough! Take me with you to your home. That a mere glimpse of plain leggings Cold tie my heart in tangles! Enough! Let us two be one.(trans. by Arthur Waley)
The second song is a frank description of a love night in the open.
Mid the bind-grass on the plain That the dew makes wet as rain I met by chance my clear-eyed man, then my joy began. Mid the wild grass dank with dew lay we the full night thru, that clear-eyed man and I in mutual felicity.(trans. by Ezra Pound)
INDIA
Ambapali was a wealthy and beautiful courtesan during the time of Buddha (circa 560-480 BC), and she lived in the city-state Wesali. Wesali was similar to city-states that in those times existed in Greece, and the position of courtesan in India was similar to the position of hetaera in Greece (Gr. hetaira). These professional independent courtesans, besides developing physical beauty, cultivated their minds and talents to a degree far beyond that allowed to the average woman. Usually living fashionably alone, or sometimes two or three together, they enjoyed an enviable and respected position of wealth and were protected and taxed by the city-state. They were often hired as entertainers for parties and other occasions, and they themselves were sometimes hosts for distinguished guests. Therefore, Ambapali was on occasion a host to Buddha and his followers.
However, after a while, beauty, as anything else, ends - and in the face of the inevitability of aging, and the loss of her beauty, Ambapali left some unforgettable lines, describing with same poetic passion the glow of youth, and wearing down of body forms in old age. In her late age she joined the Buddhist order. Her verses were included in the collection known as Theri-gatha (Verses of nuns - part of the Buddhist Pali canon). Perhaps the original verses by Ambapali were slightly different. Here, we find a form fiting with the Theri-gatha religious point (The truth of the Truth-speaker's words doesn't change), and with the important Buddhist concept (aging), which - together with illness, and death - is the starting point for the Buddhist teaching of release.
Black was my hair
-- the color of bees --
& curled at the tips;
with age, it looked like coarse hemp.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Fragrant, like a perfumed basket
filled with flowers: my coiffure.
With age it smelled musty,
like animal fur.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Thick & lush, like a well-tended grove,
made splendid, the tips elaborate
with comb & pin.
With age, it grew thin
& bare here & there.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Adorned with gold & delicate pins,
it was splendid, ornamented with braids.
Now, with age,
that head has gone bald.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Curved, as if well-drawn by an artist,
my brows were once splendid.
With age, they droop down in folds.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Radiant, brilliant like jewels,
my eyes: elongated, black -- deep black.
With age, they're no longer splendid.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like a delicate peak, my nose
was splendid in the prime of my youth.
With age, it's like a long pepper.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like bracelets -- well-fashioned, well-finished --
my ears were once splendid.
With age, they droop down in folds.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like plantain buds in their color,
my teeth were once splendid.
With age, they're broken & yellowed.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like that of a cuckoo in the dense jungle,
flitting through deep forest thickets:
sweet was the tone of my voice.
With age, it cracks here & there.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Smooth -- like a conch shell well-polished --
my neck was once splendid.
With age, it's broken down, bent.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like rounded door-bars -- both of them --
my arms were once splendid.
With age, they're like dried up patali trees.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Adorned with gold & delicate rings,
my hands were once splendid.
With age, they're like onions & tubers.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Swelling, round, firm, & high,
both my breasts were once splendid.
In the drought of old age, they dangle
like empty old water bags.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like a sheet of gold, well-burnished,
my body was splendid.
Now it's covered with very fine wrinkles.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Smooth in their lines, like an elephant's trunk,
both my thighs were once splendid.
With age, they're like knotted bamboo.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Adorned with gold & delicate anklets,
my calves were once splendid.
With age, they're like sesame sticks.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
As if they were stuffed with soft cotton,
both my feet were once splendid.
With age, they're shriveled & cracked.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Such was this physical heap,
now: decrepit, the home of pains, many pains.
A house with its plaster all fallen off.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
(Theri-gatha, 252-270, transl. by C. A. R. Rhys Davids)
JAPAN
Manyoshu is the oldest and greatest anthology of Japanese poetry (compiled in the 8th c., and containing 4.500 poems, sometimes of much earlier date). Among these are many poems written by women of different rank, and we know their names. In some cases the poems express a particular feeling for nature, like this poem by lady Sagami.
The under leaves of the lespedeza When the dew is gathering Must be cold: In the autumn moor The young deer are crying.(trans. by A. Waley)
In some cases the poem is related brotherly love, as this one by the princess Oku (661-701).
To speed my brother Parting for Yamato, In the deep of night I stood Till the wet with the dew of dawn. The lonely autumn mountains Are hard to pass over Even when two go together - How does my brother cross them all alone!
Some poems express passion that we can find much later in Romanticism. (http://home.fuse.net/wiederhold/romantic.htm) Lady Kasa (in the 8th c.) wrote a set of 29 poems expressing her love (toward O. Yakamochi). We quote two of them.
Oh how steadily I love you - You who awe me Like the thunderous waves That lash the seacoast of Ise! More thoughts crowd into my mind When evening comes; for then, Appears your phantom shape - Speaking as I have known you speak.
Manyoushu is also famous for its collection of (63) love poems (written and exchanged, mutually) by two lovers - a man (N. Yakamori), and a women (S. Otokami).
From a later collection (10th. century) is this impressive poem by a anonymous women poet, with its spectacular and painful self-awareness!
Dreams, listen, my dreams! Do not bring me together With the man I love - When once I have awakened It makes me feel so lonely.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
The Literature of Ancient Egypt, ed. by W. K. Simpson, Yale Univ. Press, 1973
Anthology of Chinese Literature, ed. by C. Birch, Penguin 1967
Anthology of Japanese Literature, ed. by D, Keene, Penguin 1968
The New English Bible, Oxford Univ. Press 1970
The Love Songs of Sappho, transl. by P. Roche, Penguin, 1991
Psalms of the Early Buddhists: The Sisters, transl. by C. A. R. Rhys Davids, Pali Text Society, London, 1980