Third Glimmer: Invention
Hiawathaand a group of Indians
A deerskin with picture-writing on it (see text below) is in the centre of the background. Over the writing burns the light.Hiawathastands before the deerskin instructing his people, who are grouped about him. During his lesson they show signs of eager approval.[1]
A deerskin with picture-writing on it (see text below) is in the centre of the background. Over the writing burns the light.Hiawathastands before the deerskin instructing his people, who are grouped about him. During his lesson they show signs of eager approval.[1]
Hiawatha.
Lo, how all things fade and perish!From the memory of the old menPass away the great traditions,The achievements of the warriors,The adventures of the hunters,All the wisdom of the Medas,All the craft of the Wabenos,All the marvelous dreams and visionsOf the Jossakeeds, the Prophets.Great men die and are forgotten,Wise men speak; their words of wisdomPerish in the ears that hear them,Do not reach the generationsThat, as yet unborn, are waitingIn the great, mysterious darknessOf the speechless days that shall be.On the grave-posts of our fathersAre no signs, no figures painted;Who are in these graves we know not,Only know they are our fathers.Face to face we speak together,But we cannot speak when absent,Cannot send our voices from usTo the friends that dwell afar off.
Lo, how all things fade and perish!From the memory of the old menPass away the great traditions,The achievements of the warriors,The adventures of the hunters,All the wisdom of the Medas,All the craft of the Wabenos,All the marvelous dreams and visionsOf the Jossakeeds, the Prophets.Great men die and are forgotten,Wise men speak; their words of wisdomPerish in the ears that hear them,Do not reach the generationsThat, as yet unborn, are waitingIn the great, mysterious darknessOf the speechless days that shall be.On the grave-posts of our fathersAre no signs, no figures painted;Who are in these graves we know not,Only know they are our fathers.Face to face we speak together,But we cannot speak when absent,Cannot send our voices from usTo the friends that dwell afar off.
Lo, how all things fade and perish!From the memory of the old menPass away the great traditions,The achievements of the warriors,The adventures of the hunters,All the wisdom of the Medas,All the craft of the Wabenos,All the marvelous dreams and visionsOf the Jossakeeds, the Prophets.Great men die and are forgotten,Wise men speak; their words of wisdomPerish in the ears that hear them,Do not reach the generationsThat, as yet unborn, are waitingIn the great, mysterious darknessOf the speechless days that shall be.On the grave-posts of our fathersAre no signs, no figures painted;Who are in these graves we know not,Only know they are our fathers.Face to face we speak together,But we cannot speak when absent,Cannot send our voices from usTo the friends that dwell afar off.
Lo, how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvelous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets.
Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be.
On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in these graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off.
Turns to deerskin, and points with an arrow to different symbols, as he names them.
Turns to deerskin, and points with an arrow to different symbols, as he names them.
On the white skin of the reindeerI have painted shapes and figures,Wonderful and mystic figures,And each figure has a meaning,Each some word or thought suggesteth.Gitche Manito, the Mighty,He, the Master of Life, I’ve paintedAs an egg, with points projectingTo the four winds of the heavens.Everywhere is the Great Spirit,Is the meaning of this symbol.Mitche Manito, the Mighty,He, the dreadful Spirit of Evil,As a serpent I’ve depicted.Very crafty, very cunning,Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,Is the meaning of this symbol.Life and Death I draw as circles;Life is white, but Death is darkened.For the earth I draw a straight line,For the sky a bow above it;White the space between for daytime,Filled with little stars for night-time;On the left a point for sunrise,On the top a point for noontide,And for rain and cloudy weatherWaving lines descending from it.Footprints pointing toward a wigwamAre a sign of invitation,Are a sign of guests assembling.Thus, my people, I would teach youAll the mysteries of painting,All the art of Picture-Writing.Go ye then and mark your grave-postsEach one with its household symbol.And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,The Wabenos, the Magicians,And the Medicine-Men, the Medas,Paint upon the bark and deerskinFigures for the songs ye chant usFor each song a separate symbol,Figures mystical and awful,Figures strange and brightly colored;Let each figure have its meaning.Thus shall live the great traditions,The achievements of the warriors,The adventures of the hunters,All the wisdom of the wise men,All the craft of the magicians,All the visions of the prophets.
On the white skin of the reindeerI have painted shapes and figures,Wonderful and mystic figures,And each figure has a meaning,Each some word or thought suggesteth.Gitche Manito, the Mighty,He, the Master of Life, I’ve paintedAs an egg, with points projectingTo the four winds of the heavens.Everywhere is the Great Spirit,Is the meaning of this symbol.Mitche Manito, the Mighty,He, the dreadful Spirit of Evil,As a serpent I’ve depicted.Very crafty, very cunning,Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,Is the meaning of this symbol.Life and Death I draw as circles;Life is white, but Death is darkened.For the earth I draw a straight line,For the sky a bow above it;White the space between for daytime,Filled with little stars for night-time;On the left a point for sunrise,On the top a point for noontide,And for rain and cloudy weatherWaving lines descending from it.Footprints pointing toward a wigwamAre a sign of invitation,Are a sign of guests assembling.Thus, my people, I would teach youAll the mysteries of painting,All the art of Picture-Writing.Go ye then and mark your grave-postsEach one with its household symbol.And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,The Wabenos, the Magicians,And the Medicine-Men, the Medas,Paint upon the bark and deerskinFigures for the songs ye chant usFor each song a separate symbol,Figures mystical and awful,Figures strange and brightly colored;Let each figure have its meaning.Thus shall live the great traditions,The achievements of the warriors,The adventures of the hunters,All the wisdom of the wise men,All the craft of the magicians,All the visions of the prophets.
On the white skin of the reindeerI have painted shapes and figures,Wonderful and mystic figures,And each figure has a meaning,Each some word or thought suggesteth.Gitche Manito, the Mighty,He, the Master of Life, I’ve paintedAs an egg, with points projectingTo the four winds of the heavens.Everywhere is the Great Spirit,Is the meaning of this symbol.Mitche Manito, the Mighty,He, the dreadful Spirit of Evil,As a serpent I’ve depicted.Very crafty, very cunning,Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,Is the meaning of this symbol.Life and Death I draw as circles;Life is white, but Death is darkened.For the earth I draw a straight line,For the sky a bow above it;White the space between for daytime,Filled with little stars for night-time;On the left a point for sunrise,On the top a point for noontide,And for rain and cloudy weatherWaving lines descending from it.Footprints pointing toward a wigwamAre a sign of invitation,Are a sign of guests assembling.Thus, my people, I would teach youAll the mysteries of painting,All the art of Picture-Writing.Go ye then and mark your grave-postsEach one with its household symbol.And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,The Wabenos, the Magicians,And the Medicine-Men, the Medas,Paint upon the bark and deerskinFigures for the songs ye chant usFor each song a separate symbol,Figures mystical and awful,Figures strange and brightly colored;Let each figure have its meaning.Thus shall live the great traditions,The achievements of the warriors,The adventures of the hunters,All the wisdom of the wise men,All the craft of the magicians,All the visions of the prophets.
On the white skin of the reindeer
I have painted shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure has a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggesteth.
Gitche Manito, the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, I’ve painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
Is the meaning of this symbol.
Mitche Manito, the Mighty,
He, the dreadful Spirit of Evil,
As a serpent I’ve depicted.
Very crafty, very cunning,
Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,
Is the meaning of this symbol.
Life and Death I draw as circles;
Life is white, but Death is darkened.
For the earth I draw a straight line,
For the sky a bow above it;
White the space between for daytime,
Filled with little stars for night-time;
On the left a point for sunrise,
On the top a point for noontide,
And for rain and cloudy weather
Waving lines descending from it.
Footprints pointing toward a wigwam
Are a sign of invitation,
Are a sign of guests assembling.
Thus, my people, I would teach you
All the mysteries of painting,
All the art of Picture-Writing.
Go ye then and mark your grave-posts
Each one with its household symbol.
And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The Wabenos, the Magicians,
And the Medicine-Men, the Medas,
Paint upon the bark and deerskin
Figures for the songs ye chant us
For each song a separate symbol,
Figures mystical and awful,
Figures strange and brightly colored;
Let each figure have its meaning.
Thus shall live the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the wise men,
All the craft of the magicians,
All the visions of the prophets.
Curtain
AsEducationandAny Cityappear before the curtain, Any City is protesting in sputtering confusion.
AsEducationandAny Cityappear before the curtain, Any City is protesting in sputtering confusion.
Any City.But—but—I—I can’t for the life of me understand why your light burned so brightly over those crude drawings!
Education.Crude they were, I grant, but they meant much to me. Through them was passed on the results of my work for ages—all that I had taught the people through experience and tradition, all that they had achieved, their strivings, their conquests, their beliefs, and their dreams. Invention, originality, self-expression, call it what you will, is the gateway to Progress.Honor to the man who is not bound by old precedent, who is not swayed by might or favor, who establishes a new procedure based on right and justice. (Light directed to paper.)
Any City(in confusion, as he conceals paper). I thought that Education is training and discipline!
Education.Those are two of my attributes. Come with me and you shall see some early lessons in training and discipline.
EducationandAny Citywithdraw from before the curtain.
EducationandAny Citywithdraw from before the curtain.
FOOTNOTES:[1]The following has been adapted slightly fromHiawatha.
[1]The following has been adapted slightly fromHiawatha.
[1]The following has been adapted slightly fromHiawatha.