Thursday 9 August 2012

Writing




That bright young lass RDG made her best ever post the other day.  You can find it here - RDG  A short post maybe, but to the point!  Writing!  Writing is such a fantastic tool we take it for granted.  The written word takes you into the heart of the author, no matter where or when the author penned the words you find yourself captivated by the situation referred to. 

Take this man, Yapahu, the ruler of Gaza, asking his overlord Pharaoh Akhentaten for help from his enemies about 3400 years ago.

To the king, my lord, my god, my sun, the sun in the sky. Thus says Yapahu, the amelu  of Gazru , your servant, the dust of your two feet, the stable-man of your horse: At the two feet of the king, my lord, the sun in the sky, seven times and seven times I prostrate myself both upon the belly and back. And to all that the king, my lord, has told me I have paid close attention. I am the king's servant and the dust of your two feet.

He goes on to ask for help, and you can see similar situations around the world today, although the terminology may be rather different.

He wrote on a  clay tablet, discovered deep in the dust of his lord's city long after it too had become dust using the Akkadian script that was common for the day.  The script or the language does not matter, what matters is the writing, his words.  They take us right into his life, and hopefully archaeology can fill in other details for us.  Using similar script we can go back into the beginning of writing via baked clay tablets.  One such is the 'Epic of Gilgamesh,' the story of the King of Uruk who goes looking for eternal life.  Written down around 2200 BC but relying on tales that go back deep into Mesopotamian history we find the lives of those who have gone before.  We also discover that the one thing History teaches is that human Nature never changes.  The culture may appear different but humanity remains the same. From the prologue:-


He who saw everything in the broad-boned earth, and knew what was to be known
Who had experienced what there was, and had become familiar with all things
He, to whom wisdom clung like cloak, and who dwelt together with Existence in Harmony
He knew the secret of things and laid them bare. And told of those times before the Flood
In his city, Uruk, he made the walls, which formed a rampart stretching on
And the temple called Eanna, which was the house of An, the Sky God
And also of Inanna, Goddes of Love and Battle


Who first thought those lines?  Who first wrote them down? How long have they been uttered on the earth?   Interestingly the discovery of items, dated to 2600 BC, belonging to Enmebaragesi of Kish, mentioned in the story as father of one of Gilgamesh's enemies gives some historical value to the tale. Their versions, there are several,  of the Biblical Flood also indicates such an event took place and left a deep mark on the society of the day.

Writing grew from the need to keep a count of produce and tally sticks of bone or wood were used around 8000 BC. As men gathered together in ever larger towns and cities such accounts became more important and by 3000 BC various forms of shorthand tallies were known, early writing followed soon after.  From record keeping to communication between Kings and their servants, from legends and spiritual instruction we move on to more advance writing styles and in today's world the internet and worldwide communication by the written word.  Sometimes this is less important to us than it would have been at the time of writing.  The Roman asking for socks while stationed on Hadrian's Wall may well have been desperate at the time, just as the woman enquiring about the her friends back home considered their situation important.  She would have written on a double piece of wood that would be folded and tied and posted to wherever.  I have no idea what she used for stamps. 

It fascinates me to read such letters.  These take us right into another's life.  They may well be in China or South America, what is now called Iraq or may even have lived not far from home in the distant past, but we are with them as we read.  Their trials become ours, their joys are shared.  The good, the bad and the ugly are found there, just like today.  Human nature never changes, whatever the culture may be, the heart remains the same.

Dictators know the written word is dangerous.  The printing of pamphlets allowed the Reformation to succeed, the banning or controlling of newspapers allows governments to dictate what information the people receive.  Today the web and phone technology make that so much harder to control, ask the Iranians, the Libyans and the Syrians.  As we know words can build up or bring down, they can heal or they can hurt, and the tongue is difficult to control, although we can of course erase the written word before we post, sometimes.    Stand in any library and look around you at the world exposed there (No I do not refer to 'Fifty shades of cheap novels').  The world and all therein can be found in a decent library.  Imagine what can be found at the British Library if you had the time to browse every day?  The written word is one of man's greatest inventions, when put to good use.   

What am I trying to say here?  It just struck me forcibly when reading RDG's post how words down the centuries bring us together with the authors from long ago, both good and bad, and that is a thought I find incredible!  Cogitate thereon and you, being educated, might be able to understand this amazing thought better than I ever can!


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10 comments:

Mike Smith said...

I agree. The written word can be dangerous. Put together 'out of stock' can be very dangerous...

Relax Max said...

So true. So eloquent. No one could have said it better. I too was struck with the brief but gripping post of the Red one.

RDG: She who has become familiar with all things and to whom wisdom clings like a quote. Cloak, I mean. She who dwells in harmony and knows the secret things. Ummmm. And lays then bare. She truly boggles, and that's the truth.

As for the dank cavedweller of this inspiring and faithful blog (my king, my lord, my god, my sun, my fish and chips.) Seven times seven times I prostate myself (both upon the belly and back, and back on the belly again) I am but the dust under your, etc., etc., I remain, etc. etc. your humble servant. Your stable-man. Yo.

Jenny Woolf said...

I often feel this when I see art work from long ago, some of it even before the days of writing.
I was amazed when I saw the stuff in Hadrians wall. I did an article about it and went into some kind of store room, it was really like a shop - so full of authentic ROman stuff. Amazing

Adullamite said...

Mike, Amazon need shootin!


Max, your humbling was indeed excellent but I fear Pharaoh's don't take the greeting 'Yo!' very well....

Jenny, Great stuff, an item or Hadrian's wall sounds great!

Mo said...

So true and thanks for introducing us to RDG. I am interested in the new biography of Richard Burton, especially as it appears that he wrote in his diaries that he considered himself more a writer than an actor. I do so envy those who are talented with words.

Adullamite said...

Mo, I am sure you will appreciate a lot of RDG's posts.

Relax Max said...

Sir Richard Burton translated the Kama Sutra. You could google it. Probably a Wiki article on him too, of his filthy Victorian exploits in the land of the heathens.

Perhaps that was an earlier Sir Richard than Lizguy. I have the latter one's first autobiography. "A Life." Such a catchy title, no? I thought he covered it all pretty well in that one. A diary too, eh? Too bad he'll reap no money from it.

I suppose I may have read the first Sir Richard's describings of colonial Inja frolics as well. As a lad.

Adullamite said...

Max, I think you may have a Burton mix up there, although they had much in common.

Relax Max said...

No mix-up. There were only two. One was an excellent actor with poor taste in women and a love for alcohol and cigarettes, and the other a nineteenth century British geographer, explorer, translator, writer, soldier, orientalist, cartographer, ethnologist, spy, linguist, poet, fencer and diplomat for Her Majesty. No, I am very clear on my Richard Burtons. :)

There were two Adullamites, too...

Adullamite said...

Two?
One's enough!