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03 February 2026 09 March 2026
This event began 02/03/2025 and repeats every year forever
Mardi Gras is 47 days before Easter, since Easter can be from March 22nd to April 25th , Mardi Grad can be from February 3rd to March 9th.
Mardi Gras is February 25th in the year 2020. I ask you to make a journal of your day in New Orleans during mardi using photos from wherever you like to paruse
Story 1 : https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=885
Story 2 : https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=886
STORY 1
ba-bedee-debede-doo Bonjou Nouveau Orleans, I have returned. The morning is bright or magical, as I step from the shore into the city. The sound of horns audible even from this distance. I wonder if anyone will remember when I was here last. If anyone will remember what I did. Well, I have to step forward to find out. Just follow the sounds, as they get deeper. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba Some people are celebrating, and I see a krewe coming like a grass from a storm. Suddenly a woman pops out.
She is on a mobile float like a little island, floating between the streets. A lovely glaze from her skin is given no interference from the sunlight, the latter choosing to shine away rather than muddy her complexion with its cloudy difference. I am in new orleans. I wonder if I can get to the old bar, I wonder if it will be there. I awe at the spirit bird going away on her magical island, like all the other men, and as the island turns, I turn back onto the road north, to the Treme, to the storyville, to my old grounds.
I wonder about the families of my friends and I, what happened from then to now. Could our stories have ended? I see, a family dressed up.
I Want to ask them their names, one looks familiar, but I see no men. It is ungentlemanly to speak to women unaccompanied. They may take great offense. so, I decide to keep it moving, let’s not get startled.
In my pocket is an old daguerreotype. I take it out and shed a tear.
Suddenly the beautiful collage of horns is no longer interesting. All I can recall are the chants of yore, when instruments were too expensive, when the priestesses still roamed the noir streets of the city. Gens de magique femme . I am amazed it survived the passage through time but I hope it will not be a memory discontinued.
It takes hours to get back to my home, ici le tempeste, no longer here, nowhere, I remember when a storm passed through the city. Everyone’s shanty was destroyed but mine, mine remained, mine survived the storm. But that is cause it was a storm itself, shaking uncontrollably absent proper supports, leaking wildly absent a proper roof, a collisions of sounds, made it an orchestra for any who lived in it for any time. It taught me more than any human ever could about sound. I see this small storefront where its porch stood and go to it. The cover over the window has a small gap and i see a woman dancing inside.
An angel, like the one on the floating island before, but this one is in a room of cotton, gently cushioning her every move. Her face… her face look like my fofo, I love her most of all. I wish the ancestors allowed me to take her too. I need to speak to this woman. I go inside, the woman pays me no mind, entranced in her own routine. I ask her, can she tell me where to find the descendants of Madame Fofo, my fofo. She does a pirouette and stops facing me. She seems startled by my old-style clothes, the first in these future times, but tells me to go to a party at the beach, where her cousin is. She is the best historian she knows.
So, I travel back out and go back from whence I came, back to the waters about my city, back to the waters that can take you anywhere. And, a party existed where I stepped out of. People drinking, partying, listening to music. I recall the description of the cotton angel and look about, even get a free sausage from finely ground meat that is put in between a fluffy bread shaped similar. I imagine to myself, i may never find the historian but then I notice a woman from afar who may be her. I keep walking toward and I am certain she fit the description. I face the potential historian standing next to her friend I assume. The friend, like an Incan princess, notice me first and realize my stare. I approach and the historian turns to me.
I ask the historian her name and it matches what the cotton angel told me. I explain to her I am looking for Madame Fofo, my fofo. The historian looks to me in disbelief, and pulls a letter out of her pocket, telling me she found it in the archives and keep it for inspiration. She tells me, to read it.
I read the letter and it says: Mon amour, mon corniste, mon Tontton, j'ai fait ce dont tu avais besoin. J'espère que vous trouverez notre avenir sûr. Je veux vous demander, vous dire, beaucoup de choses. Mais, je ne peux même pas savoir si vous lirez ceci. En l'état, je dirai ce que vous devez entendre. Où est ta corne? C'est là que nous nous sommes embrassés pour la première fois. la touche tape sur la perle blanche. La mélodie que nous avons faite ensemble.
I comprehend instantly, hand the letter back to the young lady and go to Bienville street, and to where we kissed for the first time. The lamp is still there and I see at the base the bumpy surface and a white bump exists. Then I tap on the it with my shoe. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba-ba-badoboop-badoboop-bedee-debede-bedee-debede and a latch open. My horn! I play our melody on our horn and I can see it is all worth it, as the world reverse before my eyes, like an old movie, Bienville street is going to the way it was in the past.
Past I do not know, but past looking closer to my own. Now I know it is worth it, now I know I was right to risk this. The priestess said the Cardinal’s spell on our child needed someone to risk their life, where only love can succeed. I trusted in my Fofo and she trusted in me, and I am coming back. Better keep playing my horn. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba-ba-badoboop-badoboop-bedee-debede-bedee-debede and on and on and on, I see her. STOP! It is the evening, and My Fofo run to me, and embrace me. But she isn’t alone, someone is in a carriage next to her. Someone who look a little like us both. Ancestres!
“Mon amour, voici notre fils. L'annee est” I kiss my wife. I do not need to know that. We have all the time in the world.
STORY 2
I am walking alone, far from bourbon street. Far from the sound of beads hitting bare breast, drunken stammers acapella through the krewes horns, just a man alone with the moonlight looking down upon me. I see a small shop, too small to have a sign, only the merchandise in the window provide any clue to the innards. Nothing particular I notice: masks/cloaks/old horns with stories to tell. But wait, a small figurine catch my eye. A simple figurine ready for Mardi Gras in an appropriate outfit.
I hear a sound in my ear as I look upon the figurine. But I cannot decipher it. "venez ici": I hear clear while subtely. I shake my head wondering why I am hearing french. "come here": I comprehend but I do not know from who. Again, the voice repeat and I notice my attention to the figurine. She is not moving, she does not seem mechanical, and yet I seem to know the voice is from here. I enter the shop. "Bonjour": is the shopkeeper courtesy. I am surprised he think I know a lick of french. I ask about the figurine in the window. He say, she is very old, made for a gens de colour libre woman. I ask him the price, a gentle fifteen dollars. I accept, and he gathers the figurine and place her in a box with bubble pop for cushion. I leave thinking, I have no wife or daughter and I am getting a cute figurine. Well, at least I can tell people she is old. "trouver ma peinture": I sense from the figurine but I keep on walking. "find my painting!": and I face the unchanged figurine, holding it high above my head, and ask a silly question: "where is your painting?" I wait but no reply. I continue to walk finally satisfied this nocturnal magic is finished with me. "North roman entre Beinville et Iberville" I recall the two streets, I think I know where she mean. I take out my map and recall I passed that location and I begin to walk there. My companion stay muted even as I approach the methodist church at the locale. I look down to the figurine and wonder if this is alright. A light is on, inside. I walk to the door and knock. A cleaning man open the door. "Why aren": he stop speaking and seem in a daze. I wave my hand in his face. No change. I decide to go inside foolishly, not knowing if the magic I did not use will come again if more strangers find a stranger in their church. But I look about the nave or the walls and see no painting. I look behind a column and see her.
Somehow I know the figurine is happy. But then a question occur to me. This painting is you. I thought you were given to a gens de colour libre girl, not that you are a gens de colour libre woman. The painting then wink at me. I look up and she speak. "Bon soir anglo, I... need your help": she speak simply. I ask her, what can I do to help you. "You need to face the woman who did this to me and then face me to her, i can do the rest": she speak surely. I have many doubts. "Whomever did this to you is way beyond me, I am no sorcerer": I say escapingly. "Y do not need to know how to wield the magic, just know I need your actions to aidez moi... and the woman in question is located in La Fourche, you will find here where three tree intertwine": and then the painting became still. I look at the figurine and nothing. I go to the door of the church and the cleaning man is still quiet, so I slip past him and close the door behind me. It can be unwise walking around new orleans or around cajun country at night, even during mardi gras but I figure the figurine will help. I buy a sandwich from a local deli and a pack of cigarettes. I eat while I walk, figurine safely in her box, and I keep walking. By the time I get to La fourche I am smoking cigarettes. A car with a confederate sign, fill to the rim with white men who are looking at me, drive but do not stop. I know I need to make this quick. I go by homes, some literally at the river edge, and look for the three entwined tree. I hear a scream. I see a man violently moving and decide to hide behind a bush. I creep near the window and see a dangerous sight.
I look down at the figurine and wonder if this little magic will not get me killed. "Sud, sud!": I hear in my head. Clearly my wavering got the attention to my master. I leave the scene, and hope I can find this tree before I end up in a horror movie. I walk south and finally I see the tree. But no one else is there. "Speak these words anglo...Je te donne mon cœur, tu me donnes un objectif, personne ne doit le savoir": the figurine speak hurriedly in my soul. I am hesitant but finally I decide, all well what the hell. And, after speaking the words, nothing. "PUT ME AWAY QUICK": the figurine speak, I can hear her ceramic heart beating, the black priestess soul underneath determined. Suddenly, a half of a mask appear on one side of the three twined tree. The eye behind one half of the mask seem to be a fluid blue. I hear a loud sniff. and, a woman appear from behind the tree. A forked tongue hiss whisper from the mask: "You are pretty fonce to be down here, anglo...now what is your goal, if your coeur is not heavy enough, I get the rest of the deal". I reply firmly: "alright ma'am, though I already gave my heart to another, though I cannot comprehend exactly why": and I pull out the figurine quickly, facing the masked woman straight away. A hiss is heard from all angles and I hear the figurine in my head:"Vous devez m'avoir oublié, imbécile. Joséphine vous l'a toujours dit, pour faire attention aux vieux sorts que vous lancez." The masked woman, writhing, spit out in french:"Anacaona, mais je connais le sang de ta famille, tu n'avais pas de descendants, pas de clan pour t'entendre." The figurine spoke again:"Imbecillia, vous avez oublié que le membre du clan peut avoir n'importe quelle distance, et l'esclavage de votre côté de notre famille a profité d'éclats faits dans mon clan il y a longtemps." And, a flash. Something knocked me down but someone not present helped me up. "LEve! anglo, leve!": said a woman, a black woman in the gown from the tree woman. Her hair pure white. She kneeled down and looked at a figurine on the ground. Suddenly, I realized where is my fifteen-dollar figurine. I hear a giggle from the stranger masked woman:"it is me, the figurine" I am amazed. And then I realize the figurine on the ground is the woman formerly behind the mask. My figurine, pick up her nemesis, and say:"retourne, go back to new orleans, and thank you". My honesty perk up. I did not do anything. She smile and say:"This magic was not really of spells but circumstance, will a descendent of mine find me, me living in a porcelain figurine in a small shop in new orleans, but you found me, pure chance and that was the magic that tipped the scales, no spells, no incantations". I stand up and offer a hand, and I notice her hand has age. "aucun problem anglo, I have been dormir a while": she lift up and give me a hug and continue:" I will be alright, I think I know where I can help myself around here, and I thank you for that". Before I can speak, a sole horn player, standing aside a wall is playing, while the rest of bourbon is empty. It is very late. I think to go back to the three entwined tree, but I am tired, and I need to get rest. For some reason, I need to get rest, and I do. ... Back in New York City, I wonder if I had a dream induced by someone planting something in a drink or spraying me with something. I think on that for weeks. And then I get a postcard.
I turn to the back and I see Anacaona Liber's name attached to that old churches address. Her message is:" Figure I needed a new painting with a new style, I will wait for you to decide about listening to your heart"
I realize, what may have happened but hesitate to confirm and when I turn the postcard back around, the image wink at me. ART https://aalbc.com/tc/events/event/655-black-history-month-mardi-gras-2026/ CELEBRATIONS Salvador, Bahia, Carnival 2026 https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12468-salvadaor-bahia-carnival-2026/
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09 February 2026
This event began 02/09/2025 and repeats every year forever
TEXT
https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/356-mlk-jr-free-at-last-speech/
OR
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But 100 years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men — yes, Black men as well as white men — would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked insufficient funds. But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to his hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children. It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. 1963 is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges. But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, when will you be satisfied? We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: for whites only. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream. I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our Northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. So even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning: My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims' pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring. And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. But not only that, let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring. And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, Black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: Free at last. Free at last. Thank God almighty, we are free at last.
REFERRAL
https://www.npr.org/2010/01/18/122701268/i-have-a-dream-speech-in-its-entirety
Civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. addresses the crowd at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., where he gave his "I Have a Dream" speech on Aug. 28, 1963, as part of the March on Washington.
AFP via Getty Images
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09 February 2026
This event began 02/09/2025 and repeats every year forever
Frederick Douglass : Our Composite Nation 1867 Parker Fraternity Course, Boston
TEXT
https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/357-frederick-douglass-our-composite-nation/
OR
As nations are among the largest and the most complete divisions into which society is formed, the grandest aggregations of organized human power; as they raise to observation and distinction the world’s greatest men, and call into requisition the highest order of talent and ability for their guidance, preservation and success, they are ever among the most attractive, instructive and useful subjects of thought, to those just entering upon the duties and activities of life. The simple organization of a people into a National body, composite or otherwise, is of itself and impressive fact. As an original proceeding, it marks the point of departure of a people, from the darkness and chaos of unbridled barbarism, to the wholesome restraints of public law and society. It implies a willing surrender and subjection of individual aims and ends, often narrow and selfish, to the broader and better ones that arise out of society as a whole. It is both a sign and a result of civilization. A knowledge of the character, resources and proceedings of other nations, affords us the means of comparison and criticism, without which progress would be feeble, tardy, and perhaps, impossible. It is by comparing one nation with another, and one learning from another, each competing with all, and all competing with each, that hurtful errors are exposed, great social truths discovered, and the wheels of civilization whirled onward. I am especially to speak to you of the character and mission of the United States, with special reference to the question whether we are the better or the worse for being composed of different races of men. I propose to consider first, what we are, second, what we are likely to be, and, thirdly, what we ought to be. Without undue vanity or unjust depreciation of others, we may claim to be, in many respects, the most fortunate of nations. We stand in relation to all others, as youth to age. Other nations have had their day of greatness and glory; we are yet to have our day, and that day is coming. The dawn is already upon us. It is bright and full of promise. Other nations have reached their culminating point. We are at the beginning of our ascent. They have apparently exhausted the conditions essential to their further growth and extension, while we are abundant in all the material essential to further national growth and greatness. The resources of European statesmanship are now sorely taxed to maintain their nationalities at their ancient height of greatness and power. American statesmanship, worthy of the name, is now taxing its energies to frame measures to meet the demands of constantly increasing expansion of power, responsibility and duty. Without fault or merit on either side, theirs or ours, the balance is largely in our favor. Like the grand old forests, renewed and enriched from decaying trunks once full of life and beauty, but now moss-covered, oozy and crumbling, we are destined to grow and flourish while they decline and fade. This is one view of American position and destiny. It is proper to notice that it is not the only view. Different opinions and conflicting judgments meet us here, as elsewhere. It is thought by many, and said by some, that this Republic has already seen its best days; that the historian may now write the story of its decline and fall. Two classes of men are just now especially afflicted with such forebodings. The first are those who are croakers by nature—the men who have a taste for funerals, and especially National funerals. They never see the bright side of anything and probably never will. Like the raven in the lines of Edgar A. Poe they have learned two words, and these are “never more.” They usually begin by telling us what we never shall see. Their little speeches are about as follows: You will never see such Statesmen in the councils of the nation as Clay, Calhoun and Webster. You will never see the South morally reconstructed and our once happy people again united. You will never see the Government harmonious and successful while in the hands of different races. You will never make the negro work without a master, or make him an intelligent voter, or a good and useful citizen. The last never is generally the parent of all the other little nevers that follow. During the late contest for the Union, the air was full of nevers, every one of which was contradicted and put to shame by the result, and I doubt not that most of those we now hear in our troubled air, will meet the same fate. It is probably well for us that some of our gloomy prophets are limited in their powers, to prediction. Could they command the destructive bolt, as readily as they command the destructive world, it is hard to say what might happen to the country. They might fulfill their own gloomy prophesies. Of course it is easy to see why certain other classes on men speak hopelessly concerning us. A Government founded upon justice, and recognizing the equal rights of all men; claiming higher authority for existence, or sanction for its laws, that nature, reason, and the regularly ascertained will of the people; steadily refusing to put its sword and purse in the service of any religious creed or family is a standing offense to most of the Governments of the world, and to some narrow and bigoted people among ourselves. To those who doubt and deny the preponderance of good over evil in human nature; who think the few are made to rule, and many to serve; who put rank above brotherhood, and race above humanity; who attach more importance to ancient forms than to the living realities of the present; who worship power in whatever hands it may be lodged and by whatever means it may have been obtained; our Government is a mountain of sin, and, what is worse, its [sic] seems confirmed in its transgressions. One of the latest and most potent European prophets, one who has felt himself called upon for a special deliverance concerning us and our destiny as a nation, was the late Thomas Carlyle. He described us as rushing to ruin, not only with determined purpose, but with desperate velocity. How long we have been on this high road to ruin, and when we may expect to reach the terrible end our gloomy prophet, enveloped in the fogs of London, has not been pleased to tell us. Warnings and advice are not to be despised, from any quarter, and especially not from one so eminent as Mr. Carlyle; and yet Americans will find it hard to heed even men like him, if there be any in the world like him, while the animus is so apparent, bitter and perverse. A man to whom despotism is Savior and Liberty the destroyer of society,—who, during the last twenty years of his life, in every contest between liberty and oppression, uniformly and promptly took sides with the oppressor; who regarded every extension of the right of suffrage, even to white men in his own country, as shooting Niagara; who gloats over deeds of cruelty, and talked of applying to the backs of men the beneficent whip, to the great delight of many, the slave drivers of America in particular, could have little sympathy with our Emancipated and progressive Republic, or with the triumphs of liberty anywhere. But the American people can easily stand the utterances of such a man. They however have a right to be impatient and indignant at those among ourselves who turn the most hopeful portents into omens of disaster, and make themselves the ministers of despair when they should be those of hope, and help cheer on the country in the new and grand career of justice upon which it has now so nobly and bravely entered. Of errors and defects we certainly have not less than our full share, enough to keep the reformer awake, the statesman busy, and the country in a pretty lively state of agitation for some time to come. Perfection is an object to be aimed at by all, but it is not an attribute of any form of Government. Neutrality is the law for all. Something different, something better, or something worse may come, but so far as respects our present system and form of Government, and the altitude we occupy, we need not shrink from comparison with any nation of our times. We are today the best fed, the best clothed, the best sheltered and the best instructed people in t he world. There was a time when even brave men might look fearfully at the destiny of the Republic. When our country was involved in a tangled network of contradictions; when vast and irreconcilable social forces fiercely disputed for ascendancy and control; when a heavy curse rested upon our very soil, defying alike the wisdom and the virtue of the people to remove it; when our professions were loudly mocked by our practice and our name was a reproach and a by word to a mocking earth; when our good ship of state, freighted with the best hopes of the oppressed of all nations, was furiously hurled against the hard and flinty rocks of derision, and every cord, bolt, beam and bend in her body quivered beneath the shock, there was some apology for doubt and despair. But that day has happily passed away. The storm has been weathered, and portents are nearly all in our favor. There are clouds, wind, smoke and dust and noise, over head and around, and there always will be; but no genuine thunder, with destructive bolt, menaces from any quarter of the sky. The real trouble with us was never our system or form of Government, or the principles underlying it; but the peculiar composition of our people, the relations existing between them and the compromising spirit which controlled the ruling power of the country. We have for along time hesitated to adopt and may yet refuse to adopt, and carry out, the only principle which can solve that difficulty and give peace, strength and security to the Republic, and that is the principle of absolute equality. We are a country of all extremes—, ends and opposites; the most conspicuous example of composite nationality in the world. Our people defy all the ethnological and logical classifications. In races we range all the way from black to white, with intermediate shades which, as in the apocalyptic vision, no man can name a number. In regard to creeds and faiths, the condition is no better, and no worse. Differences both as to race and to religion are evidently more likely to increase than to diminish. We stand between the populous shores of two great oceans. Our land is capable of supporting one fifth of all the globe. Here, labor is abundant and here labor is better remunerated than any where else. All moral, social and geographical causes, conspire to bring to us the peoples of all other over populated countries. Europe and Africa are already here, and the Indian was here before either. He stands today between the two extremes of black and white, too proud to claim fraternity with either, and yet too weak to withstand the power of either. Heretofore the policy of our government has been governed by race pride, rather than by wisdom. Until recently, neither the Indian nor the negro has been treated as a part of the body politic. No attempt has been made to inspire either with a sentiment of patriotism, but the hearts of both races have been diligently sown with the dangerous seeds of discontent and hatred. The policy of keeping the Indians to themselves, has kept the tomahawk and scalping knife busy upon our borders, and has cost us largely in blood and treasure. Our treatment of the negro has slacked humanity, and filled the country with agitation and ill-feeling and brought the nation to the verge of ruin. Before the relations of these two races are satisfactorily settled, and in spite of all opposition, a new race is making its appearance within our borders, and claiming attention. It is estimated that not less than one hundred thousand Chinamen, are now within the limits of the United States. Several years ago every vessel, large or small, of steam or sail, bound to our Pacific coast and hailing from the Flowery kingdom, added to the number and strength of this new element of our population. Men differ widely as to the magnitude of this potential Chinese immigration. The fact that by the late treaty with China, we bind ourselves to receive immigrants from that country only as the subjects of the Emperor, and by the construction, at least, are bound not to [naturalize] them, and the further fact that Chinamen themselves have a superstitious devotion to their country and an aversion to permanent location in any other, contracting even to have their bones carried back, should they die abroad, and from the fact that many have returned to China, and the still more stubborn [fact] that resistance to their coming has increased rather than diminished, it is inferred that we shall never have a large Chinese population in America. This however is not my opinion. It may be admitted that these reasons, and others, may check and moderate the tide of immigration; but it is absurd to think that they will do more than this. Counting their number now, by the thousands, the time is not remote when they will count them by the millions. The Emperor’s hold upon the Chinamen may be strong, but the Chinaman’s hold upon himself is stronger. Treaties against naturalization, like all other treaties, are limited by circumstances. As to the superstitious attachment of the Chinese to China, that, like all other superstitions, will dissolve in the light and heat of truth and experience. The Chinaman may be a bigot, but it does not follow that he will continue to be one, tomorrow. He is a man, and will be very likely to act like a man. He will not be long in finding out that a country which is good enough to live in, is good enough to die in; and that a soil that was good enough to hold his body while alive, will be good enough to hold his bones when he is dead. Those who doubt a large immigration, should remember that the past furnishes no criterion as a basis of calculation. We live under new and improved conditions of migration, and these conditions are constantly improving. America is no longer an obscure and inaccessible country. Our ships are in every sea, our commerce in every port, our language is heard all around the globe, steam and lightning have revolutionized the whole domain of human thought. Changed all geographical relations, make a day of the present seem equal to a thousand years of the past, and the continent that Columbus only conjectured four centuries ago is now the centre of the world. I believe that Chinese immigration on a large scale will yet be our irrepressible fact. The spirit of race pride will not always prevail. The reasons for this opinion are obvious; China is a vastly overcrowded country. Her people press against each other like cattle in a rail car. Many live upon the water, and have laid out streets upon the waves. Men, like bees, want elbow room. When the hive is overcrowded, the bees will swarm, and will be likely to take up their abode where they find the best prospect for honey. In matters of this sort, men are very much like bees. Hunger will not be quietly endured, even in the celestial empire, when it is once generally known that there is bread enough and to spare in America. What Satan said of Job is true of the Chinaman, as well as of other men, “All that a man hath will he give for his life.” They will come here to live where they know the means of living are in abundance. The same mighty forces which have swept our shores the overflowing populations of Europe; which have reduced the people of Ireland three millions below its normal standard; will operate in a similar manner upon the hungry population of China and other parts of Asia. Home has its charms, and native land has its charms, but hunger, oppression, and destitution, will desolve these charms and send men in search of new countries and new homes. Not only is there a Chinese motive behind this probable immigration, but there is also an American motive which will play its part, one which will be all the more active and energetic because there is in it an element of pride, of bitterness, and revenge. Southern gentlemen who led in the late rebellion, have not parted with their convictions at this point, any more than at others. They want to be independent of the negro. They believed in slavery and they believe in it still. They believed in an aristocratic class and they believe in it still, and though they have lost slavery, one element essential to such a class, they still have two important conditions to the reconstruction of that class. They have intelligence and they have land. Of these, the land is the more important. They cling to it with all the tenacity of a cherished superstition. They will neither sell to the negro, nor let the carpet baggers have it in peace, but are determined to hold it for themselves and their children forever. They have not yet learned that when a principle is gone, the incident must go also; that what was wise and proper under slavery, is foolish and mischievous in a state of general liberty; that the old bottles are worthless when the new wine has come; but they have found that land is a doubtful benefit where there are no hands to it. Hence these gentlemen have turned their attention to the Celestial Empire. They would rather have laborers who will work for nothing; but as they cannot get the negroes on these terms, they want Chinamen who, they hope, will work for next to nothing. Companies and associations may be formed to promote this Mongolian invasion. The loss of the negro is to gain them, the Chinese; and if the thing works well, abolition, in their opinion, will have proved itself to be another blessing in disguise. To the statesman it will mean Southern independence. To the pulpit it will be the hand of Providence, and bring about the time of the universal dominion of the Christian religion. To all but the Chinaman and the negro, it will mean wealth, ease and luxury. But alas, for all the selfish inventions and dreams of men! The Chinaman will not long be willing to wear the cast off shoes of the negro, and if he refuses, there will be trouble again. The negro worked and took his pay in religion and the lash. The Chinaman is a different article and will want the cash. He may, like the negro, accept Christianity, but unlike the negro he will not care to pay for it in labor under the lash. He had the golden rule in substance, five hundred years before the coming of Christ, and has notions of justice that are not to be confused or bewildered by any of our “Cursed be Canaan” religion. Nevertheless, the experiment will be tried. So far as getting the Chinese into our country is concerned, it will yet be a success. This elephant will be drawn by our Southern brethren, though they will hardly know in the end what to do with him. Appreciation of the value of Chinamen as laborers will, I apprehend, become general in this country. The North was never indifferent to Southern influence and example, and it will not be so in this instance. The Chinese in themselves have first rate recommendations. They are industrious, docile, cleanly, frugal; they are dexterious of hand, patient of toil, marvelously gifted in the power of imitation, and have but few wants. Those who have carefully observed their habits in California, say they can subsist upon what would be almost starvation to others. The conclusion of the whole will be that they will want to come to us, and as we become more liberal, we shall want them to come, and what we want will normally be done. They will no longer halt upon the shores of California. They will borrow no longer in her exhausted and deserted gold mines where they have gathered wealth from bareness, taking what others left. They will turn their backs not only upon the Celestial Empire, but upon the golden shores of the Pacific, and the wide waste of waters whose majestic waves spoke to them of home and country. They will withdraw their eyes from the glowing west and fix them upon the rising sun. They will cross the mountains, cross the plains, descend our rivers, penetrate to the heart of the country and fix their homes with us forever. Assuming then that this immigration already has a foothold and will continue for many years to come, we have a new element in our national composition which is likely to exercise a large influence upon the thought and the action of the whole nation. The old question as to what shall be done with [the] negro will have to give place to the greater question, “what shall be done with the Mongolian” and perhaps we shall see raised one even still greater question, namely, what will the Mongolian do with both the negro and the whites? Already has the matter taken this shape in California and on the Pacific Coast generally. Already has California assumed a bitterly unfriendly attitude toward the Chinamen. Already has she driven them from her altars of justice. Already has she stamped them as outcasts and handed them over to popular contempt and vulgar jest. Already are they the constant victims of cruel harshness and brutal violence. Already have our Celtic brothers, never slow to execute the behests of popular prejudice against the weak and defenseless, recognized in the heads of these people, fit targets for their shilalahs. Already, too, are their associations formed in avowed hostility to the Chinese. In all this there is, of course, nothing strange. Repugnance to the presence and influence of foreigners is an ancient feeling among men. It is peculiar to no particularly race or nation. It is met with not only in the conduct of one nation toward another, but in the conduct of the inhabitants of different parts of the same country, some times of the same city, and even of the same village. “Lands intersected by a narrow frith, abhor each other. Mountains interposed, make enemies of nations.” To the Hindoo, every man not twice born, is Mleeka. To the Greek, every man not speaking Greek, is a barbarian. To the Jew, every one not circumcised, is a gentile. To the Mahometan, every man not believing in the prophet, is a kaffe. I need not repeat here the multitude of reproachful epithets expressive of the same sentiment among ourselves. All who are not to the manor born, have been made to feel the lash and sting of these reproachful names. For this feeling there are many apologies, for there was never yet an error, however flagrant and hurtful, for which some plausible defense could not be framed. Chattel slavery, king craft, priest craft, pious frauds, intolerance, persecution, suicide, assassination, repudiation, and a thousand other errors and crimes, have all had their defenses and apologies. Prejudice of race and color has been equally upheld. The two best arguments in its defense are, first, the worthlessness of the class against which it was directed; and, second; that he feeling itself is entirely natural. The way to overcome the first argument is, to work for the elevation of those deemed worthless, and thus make them worthy of regard and they will soon become worthy and not worthless. As to the natural argument it may be said, that nature has many sides. Many things are in a certain sense natural, which are neither wise nor best. It is natural to walk, but shall men therefore refuse to ride? It is natural to ride on horseback, shall men therefore refuse steam and rail? Civilization is itself a constant war upon some forces in nature; shall we therefore abandon civilization and go back to savage life? Nature has two voices, the one is high, the other low; one is in sweet accord with reason and justice, and the other apparently at war with both. The more men really know of the essential nature of things, and on of the true relation of mankind, the freer they are from prejudices of every kind. The child is afraid of the giant form of his own shadow. This is natural, but he will part with his fears when he is older and wiser. So ignorance is full of prejudice, but it will disappear with enlightenment. But I pass on. I have said that the Chinese will come, and have given some reasons why we may expect them in very large numbers in no very distant future. Do you ask, if I favor such immigration, I answer I would. Would you have them naturalized, and have them invested with all the rights of American citizenship? I would. Would you allow them to vote? I would. Would you allow them to hold office? I would. But are there not reasons against all this? Is there not such a law or principle as that of self-preservation? Does not every race owe something to itself? Should it not attend to the dictates of common sense? Should not a superior race protect itself from contact with inferior ones? Are not the white people the owners of this continent? Have they not the right to say, what kind of people shall be allowed to come here and settle? Is there not such a thing as being more generous than wise? In the effort to promote civilization may we not corrupt and destroy what we have? Is it best to take on board more passengers than the ship will carry? To all of this and more I have one among many answers, together satisfactory to me, though I cannot promise that it will be so to you. I submit that this question of Chinese immigration should be settled upon higher principles than those of a cold and selfish expediency. There are such things in the world as human rights. They rest upon no conventional foundation, but are external, universal, and indestructible. Among these, is the right of locomotion; the right of migration; the right which belongs to no particular race, but belongs alike to all and to all alike. It is the right you assert by staying here, and your fathers asserted by coming here. It is this great right that I assert for the Chinese and Japanese, and for all other varieties of men equally with yourselves, now and forever. I know of no rights of race superior to the rights of humanity, and when there is a supposed conflict between human and national rights, it is safe to go to the side of humanity. I have great respect for the blue eyed and light haired races of America. They are a mighty people. In any struggle for the good things of this world they need have no fear. They have no need to doubt that they will get their full share. But I reject the arrogant and scornful theory by which they would limit migratory rights, or any other essential human rights to themselves, and which would make them the owners of this great continent to the exclusion of all other races of men. I want a home here not only for the negro, the mulatto and the Latin races; but I want the Asiatic to find a home here in the United States, and feel at home here, both for his sake and for ours. Right wrongs no man. If respect is had to majorities, the fact that only one fifth of the population of the globe is white, the other four fifths are colored, ought to have some weight and influence in disposing of this and similar questions. It would be a sad reflection upon the laws of nature and upon the idea of justice, to say nothing of a common Creator, if four fifths of mankind were deprived of the rights of migration to make room for the one fifth. If the white race may exclude all other races from this continent, it may rightfully do the same in respect to all other lands, islands, capes and continents, and thus have all the world to itself. Thus what would seem to belong to the whole, would become the property only of a part. So much for what is right, now let us see what is wise. And here I hold that a liberal and brotherly welcome to all who are likely to come to the United states, is the only wise policy which this nation can adopt. It has been thoughtfully observed, that every nation, owing to its peculiar character and composition, has a definite mission in the world. What that mission is, and what policy is best adapted to assist in its fulfillment, is the business of its people and its statesmen to know, and knowing, to make a noble use of said knowledge. I need to stop here to name or describe the missions of other and more ancient nationalities. Ours seems plain and unmistakable. Our geographical position, our relation to the outside world, our fundamental principles of Government, world embracing in their scope and character, our vast resources, requiring all manner of labor to develop them, and our already existing composite population, all conspire to one grand end, and that is to make us the make perfect national illustration of the unit and dignity of the human family, that the world has ever seen. In whatever else other nations may have been great and grand, our greatness and grandeur will be found in the faithful application of the principle of perfect civil equality to the people of all races and of all creeds, and to men of no creeds. We are not only bound to this position by our organic structure and by our revolutionary antecedents, but by the genius of our people. Gathered here, from all quarters of the globe by a common aspiration for rational liberty as against caste, divine right Governments and privileged classes, it would be unwise to be found fighting against ourselves and among ourselves; it would be madness to set up any one race above another, or one religion above another, or proscribe any on account of race color or creed. The apprehension that we shall be swamped or swallowed up by Mongolian civilization; that the Caucasian race may not be able to hold their own against that vast incoming population, does not seem entitled to much respect. Though they come as the waves come, we shall be stronger if we receive them as friends and give them a reason for loving our country and our institutions. They will find here a deeply rooted, indigenous, growing civilization, augmented by an ever increasing stream of immigration from Europe; and possession is nine points of the law in this case, as well as in others. They will come as strangers, we are at home. They will come to us, not we to them. They will come in their weakness, we shall meet them in our strength. They will come as individuals, we will meet them in multitudes, and with all the advantages of organization. Chinese children are in American schools in San Francisco, none of our children are in Chinese schools, and probably never will be, though in some things they might well teach us valuable lessons. Contact with these yellow children of The Celestial Empire would convince us that the points of human difference, great as they, upon first sight, seem, are as nothing compared with the points of human agreement. Such contact would remove mountains of prejudice. It is said that it is not good for man to be alone. This is true not only in the sense in which our woman’s rights friends so zealously and wisely teach, but it is true as to nations. The voice of civilization speaks an unmistakable language against the isolation of families, nations and races, and pleads for composite nationality as essential to her triumphs. Those races of men which have maintained the most separate and distinct existence for the longest periods of time; which have had the least intercourse with other races of men, are a standing confirmation of the folly of isolation. The very soil of the national mind becomes, in such cases, barren, and can only be resuscitated by assistance from without. Look at England, whose mighty power is now felt, and for centuries has been felt, all around the world. It is worthy of special remark, that precisely those parts of that proud Island which have received the largest and most diverse populations, are today, the parts most distinguished for industry, enterprise, invention and general enlightenment. In Wales, and in the Highlands of Scotland, the boast is made of their pure blood and that they were never conquered, but no man can contemplate them without wishing they had been conquered. They are far in the rear of every other part of the English realm in all the comforts and conveniences of life, as well as in mental and physical development. Neither law nor learning descends to us from the mountains of Wales or from the Highlands of Scotland. The ancient Briton whom Julius Caesar would not have a slave, is not to be compared with the round, burly, a[m]plitudinous Englishman in many of the qualities of desirable manhood. The theory that each race of men has come special faculty, some peculiar gift or quality of mind or heart, needed to the perfection and happiness of the whole is a broad and beneficent theory, and besides its beneficence, has in its support, the voice of experience. Nobody doubts this theory when applied to animals and plants, and no one can show that it is not equally true when applied to races. All great qualities are never found in any one man or in any one race. The whole of humanity, like the whole of everything else, is ever greater than a part. Men only know themselves by knowing others, and contact is essential to this knowledge. In one race we perceive the predominance of imagination; in another, like Chinese, we remark its total absence. In one people, we have the reasoning faculty, in another, for music; in another, exists courage; in another, great physical vigor; and so on through the whole list of human qualities. All are needed to temper, modify, round and complete. Not the least among the arguments whose consideration should dispose to welcome among us the peoples of all countries, nationalities and color, is the fact that all races and varieties of men are improvable. This is the grand distinguishing attribute of humanity and separates man from all other animals. If it could be shown that any particular race of men are literally incapable of improvement, we might hesitate to welcome them here. But no such men are anywhere to be found, and if there were, it is not likely that they would ever trouble us with their presence. The fact that the Chinese and other nations desire to come and do come, is a proof of their capacity for improvement and of their fitness to come. We should take council of both nature and art in the consideration of this question. When the architect intends a grand structure, he makes the foundation broad and strong. We should imitate this prudence in laying the foundation of the future Republic. There is a law of harmony in departments of nature. The oak is in the acorn. The career and destiny of individual men are enfolded in the elements of which they are composed. The same is true of a nation. It will be something or it will be nothing. It will be great, or it will be small, according to its own essential qualities. As these are rich and varied, or poor and simple, slender and feeble, broad and strong, so will be the life and destiny of the nation itself. The stream cannot rise higher than its source. The ship cannot sail faster than the wind. The flight of the arrow depends upon the strength and elasticity of the bow; and as with these, so with a nation. If we would reach a degree of civilization higher and grander than any yet attained, we should welcome to our ample continent all nations, kindreds [sic] tongues and peoples; and as fast as they learn our language and comprehend the duties of citizenship, we should incorporate them into the American body politic. The outspread wings of the American eagle are broad enough to shelter all who are likely to come. As a matter of selfish policy, leaving right and humanity out of the question, we cannot wisely pursue any other course. Other Governments mainly depend for security upon the sword; our depends mainly upon the friendship of its people. In all matters,—in time of peace, in time of war, and at all times,—it makes its appeal to all the people, and to all classes of the people. Its strength lies in their friendship and cheerful support in every time of need, and that policy is a mad one which would reduce the number of its friends by excluding those who would come, or by alienating those who are already here. Our Republic is itself a strong argument in favor of composite nationality. It is no disparagement to Americans of English descent, to affirm that much of the wealth, leisure, culture, refinement and civilization of the country are due to the arm of the negro and the muscle of the Irishman. Without these and the wealth created by their sturdy toil, English civilization had still lingered this side of the Alleghanies [sic], and the wolf still be howling on their summits. To no class of our population are we more indebted to valuable qualities of head, heart and hand than the German. Say what we will of their lager, their smoke and their metaphysics they have brought to us a fresh, vigorous and child-like nature; a boundless facility in the acquisition of knowledge; a subtle and far reaching intellect, and a fearless love of truth. Though remarkable for patient and laborious thought the true German is a joyous child of freedom, fond of manly sports, a lover of music, and a happy man generally. Though he never forgets that he is a German, he never fails to remember that he is an American. A Frenchman comes here to make money, and that is about all that need be said of him. He is only a Frenchman. He neither learns our language nor loves our country. His hand is on our pocket and his eye on Paris. He gets what he wants and like a sensible Frenchman, returns to France to spend it. Now let me answer briefly some objections to the general scope of my arguments. I am told that science is against me; that races are not all of one origin, and that the unity theory of human origin has been exploded. I admit that this is a question that has two sides. It is impossible to trace the threads of human history sufficiently near their starting point to know much about the origin of races. In disposing of this question whether we shall welcome or repel immigration from China, Japan, or elsewhere, we may leave the differences among the theological doctors to be settled by themselves. Whether man originated at one time and one or another place; whether there was one Adam or five, or five hundred, does not affect the question. The grand right of migration and the great wisdom of incorporating foreign elements into our body politic, are founded not upon any genealogical or archeological theory, however learned, but upon the broad fact of a common human nature. Man is man, the world over. This fact is affirmed and admitted in any effort to deny it. The sentiments we exhibit, whether love or hate, confidence or fear, respect or contempt, will always imply a like humanity. A smile or a tear has not nationality; joy and sorrow speak alike to all nations, and they, above all the confusion of tongues, proclaim the brotherhood of man. It is objected to the Chinaman that he is secretive and treacherous, and will not tell the truth when he thinks it for his interest to tell a lie. There may be truth in all this; it sounds very much like the account of man’s heart given in the creeds. If he will not tell the truth except when it is for his interest to do so, let us make it for this interest to tell the truth We can do it by applying to him the same principle of justice that we apply ourselves. But I doubt if the Chinese are more untruthful than other people. At this point I have one certain test,—mankind are not held together by lies. Trust is the foundation of society. Where there is no truth, there can be no trust, and where there is no trust there can be no society. Where there is society, there is trust, and where there is trust, there is something upon which it is supported. Now a people who have confided in each other for five thousand years; who have extended their empire in all direction till it embraces on e fifth of the population of the glove; who hold important commercial relations with all nations; who are now entering into treaty stipulations with ourselves, and with all the great European powers, cannot be a nation of cheats and liars, but must have some respect for veracity. The very existence of China for so long a period, and her progress in civilization, are proofs of her truthfulness. But it is said that the Chinese is a heathen, and that he will introduce his heathen rights and superstitions here. This is the last objection which should come from those who profess the all conquering power of the Christian religion. If that religion cannot stand contact with the Chinese, religion or no religion, so much the worse for those who have adopted it. It is the Chinaman, not the Christian, who should be alarmed for his faith. He exposes that faith to great dangers by exposing it to the freer air of America. But shall we send missionaries to the heathen and yet deny the heathen the right to come to us? I think that a few honest believers in the teachings of Confucius would be well employed in expounding his doctrines among us. The next objection to the Chinese is that he cannot be induced to swear by the Bible. This is to me one of his best recommendations. The American people will swear by anything in the heavens above or in the earth beneath. We are a nation of swearers. We swear by a book whose most authoritative command is to swear not at all. It is not of so much importance what a man swears by, as what he swears to, and if the Chinaman is so true to his convictions that he cannot be tempted or even coerced into so popular a custom as swearing by the Bible, he gives good evidence of his integrity and his veracity. Let the Chinaman come; he will help to augment the national wealth. He will help to develop our boundless resources; he will help to pay off our national debt. He will help to lighten the burden of national taxation. He will give us the benefit of his skill as a manufacturer and tiller of the soil, in which he is unsurpassed. Even the matter of religious liberty, which has cost the world more tears, more blood and more agony, than any other interest, will be helped by his presence. I know of no church, however tolerant; of no priesthood, however enlightened, which could be safely trusted with the tremendous power which universal conformity would confer. We should welcome all men of every shade of religious opinion, as among the best means of checking the arrogance and intolerance which are the almost inevitable concomitants of general conformity. Religious liberty always flourishes best amid the clash and competition of rival religious creeds. To the minds of superficial men, the fusion of different races has already brought disaster and ruin upon the country. The poor negro has been charged with all our woes. In the haste of these men they forgot that our trouble was not ethnographical, but moral; that it was not a difference of complexion, but a difference of conviction. It was not the Ethiopian as a man, but the Ethiopian as a slave and a covetted [sic] article of merchandise, that gave us trouble. I close these remarks as I began. If our action shall be in accordance with the principles of justice, liberty, and perfect human equality, no eloquence can adequately portray the greatness and grandeur of the future of the Republic. We shall spread the network of our science and civilization over all who seek their shelter whether from Asia, Africa, or the Isles of the sea. We shall mold them all, each after his kind, into Americans; Indian and Celt; negro and Saxon; Latin and Teuton; Mongolian and Caucasian; Jew and Gentile; all shall here bow to the same law, speak the same language, support the same Government, enjoy the same liberty, vibrate with the same national enthusiasm, and seek the same national ends.
Referral
https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/1867-frederick-douglass-describes-composite-nation/
PDF images of original speech
https://nyhs-prod.cdn.prismic.io/nyhs-prod/071a94b5-388a-4546-b798-7439b35e2061_Composite+Nation_Composite+Nation+Speech.docx.pdf
COMMENTARY
02112026
Citation
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@ProfD
18 hours ago, ProfD said:
IMO, as a melting pot, the USA warts & all is the composite nation Frederick Douglass envisioned.
I concur 100% I will only add he envisioned plus worked very hard for. I call frederick douglass a black integrationist but to be more honest, he was a zealous integrationist.
You said warts and all, but that is part of what makes Frederick Douglass in my opinion, the most important black integrationist, over W.E.B. Dubois when younger who was alive with Douglass but most blacks cite as more important even though Dubois was financed by white jews and douglass was not [douglass was financed by white abolitionists, whites who wanted to end black enslavement to whites but not white jews who wanted to use blacks for various fiscal or government reasons, which is why W.E.B> dubois when older was a staunch rematriate/back to africa ], MLK jr , douglas's spiritual son who has a federal holiday, or barack obama , douglass spiritual grandson who became the first, and currently only, black president.
W.E.B. Dubois when younger+ MLK jr + Obama for me have one great failing in prose compared to Douglass , they don't honestly submit in their prose the ugliness of integration. Whereas Frederick Douglass in his composite nation speech essentially, admits integration in the future will be terrible or better f-ed up. He was alive, like WE.B. Dubois, to see Jim Crow grow early in tremendous black bloodshed, but in composite nation he predicted Jim Crow would be a long thing, which it was 1865 to 1980 but he also admitted the far flung future will be bad, ala the post jim crow , 1980 to today.
Whereas W.E.B. dubois when younger and MLK jr. and Obama or many, i argue most absent a count, black integrationist mention opportunities and capabilities, Douglass admitted the future will not be full of opportunity but only challenges. The black blame for black condition many black integrationist speak of Douglass doesn't go into.
So I concur to you 100%. And largely because Douglass saw the white warts as much larger or more powerful or more entrapping than his consophies/ those who think alike or with him, during his lifetime or after.
The neverending multicolored spaghetti in a pot, [the usa really isn't a melting pot, the integrationist goal is the melting pot, the condition from 1492 to today is a neverending flow of multicolored spaghetti in a pot to small ] is desired by Douglass not because it will be great for black people, but because it will be great for human individuals. That is also another key element in Douglass's prose that I find absent in W.E.B. DUbois when younger and MLK jr. and Barrack Obama. Douglass was booed by black people speaking the composite nation speech because he didn't lie about integrations reality. Black communal betterment against the non black isn't served by integration. Black segregationist [ Booker t washington or exodusters] Black Nationalist [ Jean Jacques Dessalines or Nkrumah] Black rematriast [ Marcus Garvey ] strategies are all better suited for black communal betterment over black integration. Douglass didn't suggest the lie that W.E.B. Dubois when young, MLK jr, Obama suggest . The lie being integration is better for the black community, it isn't. IT is better for black individuals. But, Douglass's point was that far down the road, if all individuals can be in that positive composite environment, then the human community will be better. It is a delicate philosophical position. It isn't that Douglass is anti black, as much as Douglass sees all sub populaces in humanity needing to be harmed/lessened/weakened to get to where the USA can be good for any human being. I think he foresaw that one day, whites will have to face a big lose, white jews will have to face a big lose, men will have to face a big lose, because those populaces communal strength has to give way to a human communal strength.
I don't favor implementing Douglass's philosophy, but I argue, while he is pro statian, very pro statin, he applies an honesty to the integration in the usa , that I don't really see in well known black people, but even among the fiscally common black integrationists.
02112026
Citation
https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12457-frederick-douglass-our-composite-nation-take-a-read /#findComment-80090
Posted just now
@ProfD
4 hours ago, ProfD said:
I believe Douglass would be pleasantly surprised by the opportunities Black folks have been able to take advantage of despite the challenges under the system of racism white supremacy.
i am certain he would be happy, he was happy at black individual financial success during his life. But would he be surprised at black financial individual success today? I don't think so at all. Again, the usa has always had circa 1492 to 2026 financially successful black individuals, meaning blacs who own businesses in a white dominated community, ala integration or why the usa has always been integrated. But in the colonial period the usa was born from or the usa itself, neither ever had a black populace that controlled or governed itself. Now in defense, Douglass and black integrationists goal isn't a black populace that is a community or governs itself, black integrationist goal by default is to have black individuals have opportunity in an integrated environment, which is what has been going on since 1865 in the usa.
So I argue, douglass wouldn't be surprised cause nothing has elementally changed. Between 1865 and today no difference exist in terms of presence. Black elected officials, black business owners, white enemies of black people existed in 1865 and exist now in the united states of america. Now you can argue percentages, but Frederick Douglass whole point is that was inevitable.
4 hours ago, ProfD said:
In the absence of a revolution to overthrow it, the biggest challenge especially for Black statesmen remains navigating the waters of racism white supremacy.
The subtlety that douglass had in comprehending the integration he supported so few black integrationist after him seem to comprehend.
What you call a system of white supremacy douglass called the USA. From douglass own language the challenge isn't dealing with white supremacy but dealing with whites. In that way, Douglass/ MLK jr/ Obama are like minded. I think W.E.B. Dubois when younger saw a system of white supremacy as you do, and when he was older , it showed how dysfunctional an black integrationist who then speaks of living in a system of white supremacy is.
if you are black and embrace the usa today, then you are an integrationist.
I argue positive/engaged Black segregation for the majority of black people in the usa or just the majority of descended of enslaved, which is what the exodusters+ booker t washington wanted... is close to impossible today in the usa. The financial situation of the black populace/ the heritage in the usa in 2026 /the bureaucracy of the usa government/ the internal demographics [especially geographic displacement]of the black populace in the usa today, make positive black segregation like said folks wanted... very^INF challenging. In very small groups you see examples of positive black segregation in the usa today, but none of that can be applied to the larger populace.
Black nationalism is more challenging than Black segregation in the usa, for the majority, but black people/individuals or very small groups have always left the usa and made small examples outside the usa.
Black rematriation/ black to africa is more challenging than black nationalism in the usa for the majority. But, black people/individuals or very small groups have always left the usa to africa and succeeded.
So I said that to say, the majority black populace in the usa today is integrationist, and outside some radical event in the future, it will remain on that path, set by Douglass.
But, what is black integration in the usa ? Black integration in the usa is black people living positively aside the non black. So Douglass correctly asserted the challenge for black integrationist isn't navigating white supremacy, cause black integrationists have to oppose black supremacy, which is what douglass did, the challenge for the black integrationist is navigating white people under the legal system of the usa, with all of its dysfunctions or white warts built over time, that will require and can be changed legally... in time.
RMCommunityCalendar 0 Comments · 0 Reviews
09 February 2026
This event began 02/09/2025 and repeats every year forever
Flash Fictions for february 2025 02/09/2025
i call them variants cause the longer versions exist for three of them, for one i only had one version, i just named it a variant anyway
TEA AT THE END OF AN EXISTENCE? variants
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/1157675232
PROMISES OF SHADOWS PLUS ECHOES variants
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/1157676369
A MEMORY IN OLIGARCHY variants
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/1157676837
A FLASH FROM THE OTHER IMMIGRANT variants
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/1157678361
IN AMENDMENT
A miniature clay modeling instrument
RMWorkCalendar 0 Comments · 0 Reviews
09 February 2026
This event began 02/09/2026 and repeats every year forever
Title: To tap the tap
I wish to remember the milk
Never got a swig, never made a bulk
The joy alone from an oneiroific gulk
Is purer than Su Xiu mulberry silk
Stop! No worries, said truth isn't a bilk
Not having the best is no reason to sulk
... I wish to remember the milk
Never got a swig, never made a bulk
Today and tomorrows, what is better or thilk?
The texture the tactile, keep leading me as hulk
I still have a chance to be the Great Caulk!
And to a lucky suckler of fore and hindmilk, I will write glorious filk
... I wish to remember the milk
Never got a swig, never made a bulk
from Richard Murray HDdeviant
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/To-tap-the-tap-1297023734
February rules to get the lovetoart badge from crliterature
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/journal/Love-of-Art-February-Profile-Badge-2026-1296661871
Word Meanings
swig- a drink
bulk- a volume or swelling
oneiroific- Oneiroi are spirits of dreams in Hellenistic/Greek mythology.. yes Morpheus. -ic is a postfix, element added to end of a word to turn it into an adjective, having properties of root word
gulk- onmatopoeia instance- sound of drinking heavily
Su Xiu- embroidery style from Suzhou, China, the silk center of china with thousands of years of silk crafting heritage [ https://www.szsilkmuseum.com/#/ ]
silk- natural made material by various lifeforms, in the fiscal industry from cocoons of moths
bilk- term from cribbage card game, an action when one spoils the points achievable by another by discarding certain cards [ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cribbage ]
sulk- repel friendliness
thilk- the same, the whole word means " the same" , ilk means same
texture- structure
tactile- touchable
hulk- towed ship, no not modern sense of large person
caulk- to fill cracks, from lime which was used to fill up cracks in brickwork; lime is the basis for cement. Cement is the basis for concrete. lime is called calx in latin.
foremilk-first milk produced in breast feeding
hindmilk- milk produced after foremilk in breastfeeding, very rich in proteins
filk- fan written songs [ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Filk_music#History ]
Enjoy my work,always a season to tip
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/tier/Tip-Jar-to-HDdeviant-902770076
#loveofart #valentinesday #valentine #february #love #hddeviant #deviantart #richardmurray #kobo #aalbc #rmaalbc #richardmurrayhumblr #tumblr
RMWorkCalendar 0 Comments · 0 Reviews
09 February 2026
This event began 02/09/2026 and repeats every year forever
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztsLeuMLMXI
0:00It has long since been noted that Tolken's works are very maledominated. 0:055 secondsThere is a minuscule number of female characters in these stories and there is an even more minuscule number of 0:1313 secondsmothers. The maternal mortality rates in Middle Earth are sky high. Out of the nine members of the fellowship, three of 0:2121 secondstheir mothers are dead. One of them doesn't even technically have a mother, 0:2525 secondsand the rest of their mothers are never mentioned or brought up in the story. 0:3030 secondsAnd this absence seems even more obvious because there are a lot of fatherly relationships in Middle Earth, be that 0:3737 secondsfrom birth fathers or foster father figures. But mothers, who, you know, I think we would all agree, tend to have a 0:4444 secondspretty serious impact on us, are conspicuously missing. There are some characters who are mothers when you dig a bit deeper into the lore, but they all 0:5353 secondshave a very similar and frankly very limited impact on these stories that they're a part of. So why is it that 1:011 minute, 1 secondTolken, who explored so many different forms and shapes of relationship with such depth and passion, why did he skirt 1:101 minute, 10 secondsaround motherhood? Who are the mothers that we meet in Middle Earth? What patterns do these characters tend to 1:171 minute, 17 secondsfollow? And why is it so important that we recognize and possibly change these patterns? If we're to start with 1:251 minute, 25 secondsTolken's most popular works, things are not looking great in terms of maternal representation. The Hobbit explores 1:331 minute, 33 secondsplenty of different kinds of familial relationships, uncles, brothers, 1:371 minute, 37 secondsnephews, even fathers, but there are no mothers, much less any female characters at all. The Lord of the Rings does 1:451 minute, 45 secondsslightly better. There are about half a dozen important female characters in this story and some of them are even 1:531 minute, 53 secondstechnically mothers and this includes Galadriel. Depending on what lore you're looking at, Galadriel either had one or 2:012 minutes, 1 secondtwo children with her husband and her daughter Kellbrien would marry Eland and give birth to Arwin before she was 2:092 minutes, 9 secondsessentially killed. So, Galadriel is by all accounts a mother, but I wouldn't say that it is her role in the story to 2:172 minutes, 17 secondsbe a very motherly character. The only reason that we find out about Kellbrien's existence at all is not because she's present in the story 2:252 minutes, 25 secondsbecause she's long dead, but because Galadriel steps into a sort of grandmotherly role, giving Aragorn a gift that should have been from her own 2:342 minutes, 34 secondsdaughter, who would have been Aragorn's mother-in-law through Arwin. Galadriel gave birth to Kellbrien some like 6,000 2:412 minutes, 41 secondsyears ago. And while no one ever stops being a mother, no matter how old they or their child are, the role that she's 2:492 minutes, 49 secondsplaying in the story is not of the maiden or the mother if we're to look at this in terms of the feminine triad. And while Galadriel isn't a crone character, 2:592 minutes, 59 secondsshe's kind of gone even a step beyond that. She has become this spiritual guide. She is an angel more than a 3:073 minutes, 7 secondsmother. At the very least, she is not a manifestation of what people consider to be motherly traits. What somebody 3:143 minutes, 14 secondsconsiders to be motherly qualities is going to change a lot from person to person. And it is very difficult to 3:213 minutes, 21 secondsfigure out exactly what Tolken thought to be motherly qualities because of just how few mothers there are in his 3:283 minutes, 28 secondsstories. But I do think we can kind of reverse engineer these ideas by looking at what Tolken deemed to be bad 3:383 minutes, 38 secondsmotherhood in the form of the giant spider Sheilob. Sheilob is fascinating to me because in the relatively sterile 3:463 minutes, 46 secondsworld of Middle Earth, she is one of the only characters that is depicted in terms of her reproductive qualities. Not 3:543 minutes, 54 secondsonly does she have her own children, her little broods of spider babies, but she is also contextualized in her being a 4:034 minutes, 3 secondsdaughter to an even more prolific mother, Unolant, the giant spider monster depicted in the Sylmerelion. 4:114 minutes, 11 secondsSheilob and Unolant are both depicted as these primal forms of evil. There is nothing left in them except for the 4:194 minutes, 19 secondsbasist instincts of hunger and reproduction. Tolken describes Sheilob. 4:264 minutes, 26 secondsShe served none but herself, drinking the blood of elves and men, bloated and grown fat with endless brooding on her 4:354 minutes, 35 secondsfeasts, weaving webs of shadow. For all living things were her food and her vomit darkness. Far and wide her lesser broods, bastards of the miserable mates, 4:474 minutes, 47 secondsher own offspring that she slew, spread from Glenn to Glenn, from Ethel Duath to the eastern hills to Dol Guldur and the 4:574 minutes, 57 secondsvastness of Murkwood. But none could rival her. Sheilob the Great, the last child of Unolant to trouble the unhappy 5:065 minutes, 6 secondsworld. The language that Tolken uses to describe Sheilob is very specifically chosen. She is contextualized as the 5:145 minutes, 14 secondschild to a mother, a matrinal line in which no male intervention is needed. 5:215 minutes, 21 secondsHer broods spread her evil across all of Middle Earth, sinking and festering into 5:295 minutes, 29 secondsthe cracks left behind where goodness fades away. And the terms used to describe her physically, bloated and 5:375 minutes, 37 secondsswaying and fat and swelling, are some of the most explicitly corpulent and 5:445 minutes, 44 secondsbodily terms that Tolken uses in all of his writing. Women in Tolken's works on the whole are described with very particular terms. Fair, graceful, 5:555 minutes, 55 secondsbeautiful. These ethereal terms that don't linger in the physicality of these women. It is only Sheilob who is 6:036 minutes, 3 secondsdepicted in such real and tangible terms. Her swaying and sagging figure a cruel perversion of the feminine form. 6:136 minutes, 13 secondsSheilob is only a mother in the most clinical of terms. And it is through her perversion of motherhood that we can 6:206 minutes, 20 secondsstart to get closer to what Tolken thought of as good motherhood. In contrast to Sheilob's undying hunger, a 6:286 minutes, 28 secondsmother ought to be selfless and generous, giving more than she takes. Rather than acting as a brood mare, 6:376 minutes, 37 secondsthoughtlessly spilling out her offspring across the world, a mother ought to be involved in her child's affairs. She 6:456 minutes, 45 secondsought to raise them, to shape them, and to help guide them throughout their lives. And although this idea wouldn't exactly be accepted by the modern 6:536 minutes, 53 secondsperspective, I do think that Tolken thought of perfection as a kind of 7:007 minutesdeified holy pure remoteness. I think he thought of that as one of the traits that a mother must have. The visceral, 7:097 minutes, 9 secondsugly, and real qualities of an aberant mother like Sheilob imply that the 7:167 minutes, 16 secondsinverse, this kind of remote idealistic perfection, is Tolken's ideal of good 7:237 minutes, 23 secondsmotherhood. By Tolken's parameters, then I think that Galadriel would classify as a pretty good mother. She is fairly 7:317 minutes, 31 secondsselfless. She provided a guiding hand for her child and she is as distant and serene as they come. But the problem 7:397 minutes, 39 secondswith acting like she is great maternal representation in the story is that there's no child around for her to focus 7:467 minutes, 46 secondsthese energies on. She provides a guiding hand to the fellowship, but I wouldn't say it's a particularly maternal one. There are other female 7:557 minutes, 55 secondscharacters like Aayowayen and Arwin who become mothers later on in the story, 7:597 minutes, 59 secondsbut that's long after the events of the story have played out and it takes place mostly in the appendices. And in the actual text of the Lord of the Rings, 8:078 minutes, 7 secondsthese are not described as particularly maternal characters. Arwin is depicted as more a piece of art than a realized 8:158 minutes, 15 secondshuman. She is the embodiment of all things holy and queenly, but not motherly. Aayoin, meanwhile, if we're to put her in the lens of the maiden, 8:258 minutes, 25 secondsmother and crone triad, she is much more the maiden, and she is too far absorbed in her maidenly affairs to be any kind 8:338 minutes, 33 secondsof a motherly character. Just listen to the tone with which Tolken describes her. Grave and thoughtful was her glance 8:418 minutes, 41 secondsas she looked on the king with cool pity in her eyes. Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river of gold. 8:508 minutes, 50 secondsSlender and tall she was in her white robe girth with silver, but strong she seemed and stern as steel, a daughter of 8:588 minutes, 58 secondskings. Thus Aragorn for the first time in the full light of day beheld Aayowin, 9:059 minutes, 5 secondslady of Rohan, and thought her fair, 9:089 minutes, 8 secondsfair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that has not yet come to womanhood. She is described as a 9:169 minutes, 16 secondsdaughter of kings, not a mother to a future generation. She is cold, cool, stern, not yet come to womanhood. 9:259 minutes, 25 secondsAlthough she's not an aberrant anti-mother figure such as Sheilob, Awen quite obviously is meant to fill a different role in the story than being a 9:349 minutes, 34 secondsmotherly character, at least during the events of the Lord of the Rings. Rosie Cotton, the future wife of Sam Wise Gamji, is certainly not a maiden. not by 9:439 minutes, 43 secondsthe end of the story at least. But she's also just not a very relevant character. 9:499 minutes, 49 secondsAnd I know I'm going to catch some flak for that because Rosie is one of the examples often paraded around of good female representation in Tolken's works. 9:579 minutes, 57 secondsAnd while I do like her character a lot, 10:0010 minutesshe really just is not present enough in the bulk of the story for me to think of her as really good representation. To 10:0810 minutes, 8 secondsthe best of my estimation, her name appears about 16 times in the Lord of the Rings, which for context is the same 10:1510 minutes, 15 secondsnumber of times that the name of appears. You know, the random old healing woman in Gondor. So, while I 10:2310 minutes, 23 secondslove Rosie Cotton, I do think it's a bit of an exaggeration to call her representative of good motherhood in Middle Earth. She's just not in the 10:3010 minutes, 30 secondsstory enough for that. Besides, once she has Sam's children, Sam's role as a father is spoken about much more than 10:3810 minutes, 38 secondsher role as a mother. We see all of this through the lens of Sam's character. And this is fair. Sam is a much more main 10:4610 minutes, 46 secondscharacter in the story, but it means that although she is a mother, Rosie doesn't really get to have any impact on 10:5310 minutes, 53 secondsthe story as a mother. I will say that Tom Bombadil's wife, Goldberry, does demonstrate some classically maternal 11:0111 minutes, 1 secondtraits. She's very warm and welcoming and domestic. She cares for them in the way that a mother might. However, she 11:0911 minutes, 9 secondsand Tom did not have any children, so I don't think that she really counts as an example of a mother character. There are 11:1611 minutes, 16 secondsa number of deceased mothers in this story that come up. One of my favorites is Gil Rayan, who is Aragorn's mother, 11:2411 minutes, 24 secondswho sacrificed an awful lot to get her son to the place that he needed to be in, but her story is relegated to the appendices and doesn't have a serious 11:3311 minutes, 33 secondsimpact outside of propelling Aragorn onto his path. The loss of Phamir and Boramir's mother has an intense impact 11:4111 minutes, 41 secondson their relationships with each other and their relationship with their father. And the death of Frodo's mother is what puts him in the care of Bilbo 11:5011 minutes, 50 secondsand thus what makes him cross paths with the ring. And I do appreciate that these mothers play such a significant role in the way that they affected the people 11:5911 minutes, 59 secondsaround them. But I do find it kind of a shame that we don't get to see any of them living to actually impact the story 12:0712 minutes, 7 secondsthemselves. And this wouldn't stand out so much if it weren't for how many examples there are in the Lord of the Rings of strong fatherly characters. The 12:1712 minutes, 17 secondsrelationship of Denithor Phamir and Boramir is one of the most poignant stories in the book. Foster fathers like 12:2512 minutes, 25 secondsTheodin and Eland have an intense effect on their charges. There are so many different examples and different kinds 12:3412 minutes, 34 secondsof fatherly guidance and strength in this story, but there's just not really much for the mothers. Now, this is not 12:4312 minutes, 43 secondsthe case for the Sylmerelion, where there are just overall far more characters, but specifically far more 12:5012 minutes, 50 secondsfemale characters. But I will say that the proportion of dead mothers to living mothers is roughly the same as it is in 12:5812 minutes, 58 secondsthe Lord of the Rings. It is bad news if you are a mother in Middle Earth that wants to um live a full and happy life. 13:0613 minutes, 6 secondsAlmost all of the Sylmerelion's greatest heroes have mothers that are no longer with them. Baron of Baron and Lucian 13:1413 minutes, 14 secondsfame was raised by his father after the destruction of his family's house. Tuor, 13:1913 minutes, 19 secondsthe hero of the fall of Gondolind, lost both of his parents and was adopted by a man. And Feyenor's mother was long gone 13:2713 minutes, 27 secondsby the time he started getting up to trouble. And for Tu and Baron, this makes a certain sort of sense. They are both human and thus mortal, as were 13:3613 minutes, 36 secondstheir mothers. But in the case of Feyenor, his mother Muriel should have been immortal. She was an elf. And that makes her loss all the more agonizing. 13:4813 minutes, 48 secondsAs the story describes, in the bearing of her son, Mielle was consumed in spirit and body. And after his birth, 13:5713 minutes, 57 secondsshe yearned for the release from the labor of living. And when she had named him, she said to Finway, "Never again 14:0514 minutes, 5 secondsshall I bear child, for strength that would have nourished the life of many has gone forth into Feyenor." Muriel didn't just die. She burned herself out, 14:1814 minutes, 18 secondspouring her entire spirit into her son so that he might live even as she dies. 14:2514 minutes, 25 secondsAnd in this degree of radical self-sacrifice, 14:2914 minutes, 29 secondsMuriel has thrown off the balance of motherhood completely. Yes, she fulfilled the first of the parameters, 14:3514 minutes, 35 secondsselflessness, but the second parameter is that she remain around to guide and to help her son. And without her guiding 14:4414 minutes, 44 secondspresence in his life, Feyenor goes off the deep end. He remembers her as perfect and pure and deified. But 14:5314 minutes, 53 secondswithout his mother actually around to guide him, Feyenor commits some of Middle Earth's worst atrocities. Feyenor 15:0015 minuteshangs on to the memory of his mother and her spirit to his detriment. And in the end, the spirit that his mother gave him 15:0915 minutes, 9 secondsflares out of control, and he too is consumed. But even mothers who survive the gauntlet of birth are not safe from 15:1715 minutes, 17 secondsthe judgments of good motherhood versus bad motherhood because there are a number of mothers in the Sylmerelion who are just absent. The main ones that come 15:2615 minutes, 26 secondsto mind are also actually in the story of Feyenor, namely Nardanel, the wife of Feyenor, and Indis, his stepmother, his 15:3515 minutes, 35 secondsfather's second wife. Both of these women gave birth to powerful sons in powerful families. But after the birth, 15:4415 minutes, 44 secondsthey simply fade into the background. 15:4615 minutes, 46 secondsThe fathers of these children are enormously influential. Finway is an elf king. The vow that Feyenor imposes upon 15:5515 minutes, 55 secondshis son shapes the events of the rest of the Sylmerelion. But the mothers have almost no impact on their children's 16:0316 minutes, 3 secondslives. They have leaned fully into the third aspect of motherhood. This remote distance from their child's life, but without having done self-sacrificing, 16:1416 minutes, 14 secondswithout having put their children on the rightful path, they fade into irrelevancy. Without self-sacrifice, 16:2216 minutes, 22 secondstragedy or death to lend these women's lives profoundity, they cease to matter whatsoever. But not all of Tolken's 16:3116 minutes, 31 secondsmothers fail so completely. And I think that Idril is an example of really great motherhood. Idril was a princess who 16:4016 minutes, 40 secondsmarried Tor during the events of the fall of Gondolind. And it was her wisdom and her ferocity that allowed so many 16:4816 minutes, 48 secondslives to be saved during this tragic event. Adril implores her husband to dig a secret escape route, knowing that 16:5616 minutes, 56 secondstrouble is coming. And when that trouble does arise, she takes arms to save her people and their beloved son, Arendil. 17:0417 minutes, 4 secondsShe goes out onto the streets as the city sacked, saving survivors and guiding them to her escape tunnel. When she and her son are taken and nearly 17:1317 minutes, 13 secondsthrown off the battlements in a revenge ploy, she fights, as Tolken describes, 17:1917 minutes, 19 secondslike a tigress, tooth and claw, to preserve the life of herself and her son. Itil plays an essential role in 17:2817 minutes, 28 secondsguiding her family and her people to safety. Even if she must make the sacrifice of watching her father die to 17:3717 minutes, 37 secondsensure that the rest of them can make it out alive. She is wise. She is fearsome. 17:4217 minutes, 42 secondsShe is self-sacrificial. She is hugely influential in the life of her son Aarendiel. But this cannot last forever. 17:5017 minutes, 50 secondsHer story concludes in those days T felt old age creep upon him and ever a longing for the deeps of the sea grew 17:5917 minutes, 59 secondsstronger in his heart. Therefore he built a great ship and he named it Aram which is sea wing and withil Kellindal 18:0818 minutes, 8 secondshe set sail into the sunset and the west and came no more into any tale or song. 18:1518 minutes, 15 secondsIn the world that Tolken depicts no good things can last forever and this goes especially for the care of a mother and 18:2418 minutes, 24 secondsthis does have a wounding effect on her child. Although Aarendil goes on to be a storied and successful hero, there is 18:3218 minutes, 32 secondsalways a part of him that is searching for his mother and father wherever they have sailed across the seas. I hesitate 18:4018 minutes, 40 secondsto call Idril's choice to leave Middle Earth selfish because she did so much good in her life. But perhaps in the 18:4718 minutes, 47 secondsnarrow parameters that Tolken has laid out for positive motherhood, this is a kind of failing or at the very least a 18:5518 minutes, 55 secondswound. This failure is made the central focus of the story of Morwin. Morwin is 19:0219 minutes, 2 secondsthe mother of the oursed boy Turin left behind to defend their home after Hurin is imprisoned by Morgoth. There are Easterlings attacking them constantly. 19:1219 minutes, 12 secondsAnd although Morwin is repelling them by her powers of sorcery and fear, she sends Turin away to safety. She sends 19:2019 minutes, 20 secondshim off to the distant kingdom of Doryath to be raised by the elf king Thingal. This is very technically a wise 19:2719 minutes, 27 secondschoice. It is a choice that ensures Turin's physical safety, but it disregards his emotional security. Time 19:3519 minutes, 35 secondsand time again, Turin begs his mother to join him in the safety of Thingal's palace, but fear holds her back. She 19:4319 minutes, 43 secondsgives birth to another child, a daughter. But once again, fear rather than wisdom guides her ways. She refuses 19:5219 minutes, 52 secondsto leave their home until the last possible moment. And by the time she leaves to chase after Turin, it is too late. He's already gone to face his 20:0120 minutes, 1 seconddestiny. And although it would be wrong to say that this is Morowyn's fault in any serious way, Turin was cursed by 20:0820 minutes, 8 secondsbasically the devil himself, undoubtedly her fear-based actions put Turin on the 20:1620 minutes, 16 secondspath towards tragedy. Morowan spends the rest of the story trying to make up for this sin, but fate has made its mind up. 20:2520 minutes, 25 secondsBoth of her children spiral deeper and deeper into despair. They end up taking their own lives, and Morowan is left to 20:3320 minutes, 33 secondsdie, ignorant of their final fate. But I think that one of the most poignantly tragic stories of motherhood in Middle 20:4220 minutes, 42 secondsEarth comes from the character of Adidel. Adidel was the sister of Turugon, the lord of Gondolind, and she 20:5120 minutes, 51 secondslived a charmed, safe, and comfortable life in the city. But this comfort eventually began to chafe. She wearied of the guarded city of Gondolan, 21:0221 minutes, 2 secondsdesiring ever the longer, the more to ride again in the wide lands, and to walk in the forests, as had been her 21:1021 minutes, 10 secondswant in Valinor. And when 200 years had passed since Gondolin was full wrought, 21:1621 minutes, 16 secondsshe spoke to Toggon and asked leave to depart. Toggon was loathed to grant this and long denied her, but at last he yielded, saying, "Go then, if you will, 21:2821 minutes, 28 secondsthough it is against my wisdom, and I forbodeed that ill will come of it, both to you and to me." Despite her brother's 21:3621 minutes, 36 secondsmisgivings, Adele departs Gondolind. And at first, she revels in the freedom that she finds. She finds friends to stay 21:4521 minutes, 45 secondswith. She lives whatever life she wants to live. But still, this is not enough. She rides out alone day after day, 21:5321 minutes, 53 secondsfurther and further beyond the bounds of safety until she is found by the dark elf Aol who lusts after her, imprisons 22:0322 minutes, 3 secondsher and forces her to marry him. Aol and Adel have a son together and once he's old enough, Adidel begins to plot with this son to escape A's imprisonment. 22:1522 minutes, 15 secondsThey make a break for Gondor, but A is hot on their heels. Ail decides that he would prefer his son be dead than be 22:2322 minutes, 23 secondswithout him. And so he throws a spear at his son. But Audel jumps in front of the point in time. It wounds her. It poisons 22:3222 minutes, 32 secondsher. And she dies. Her son is deeply traumatized by her sacrifice and goes on 22:3922 minutes, 39 secondsto do wicked deeds. He is the Judas that orchestrates Gondolin's fall. I don't think that it's fair to say that 22:4622 minutes, 46 secondsAdidel's sin was selfishness. Nor would I say that she didn't provide any guidance to her son except that she was taken away from him prematurely. Rather, 22:5522 minutes, 55 secondsI think that Adele's failing was that she was just too real. She was a flighty person, someone who made rash decisions 23:0323 minutes, 3 secondsand didn't want to live with the consequences. She was a caged bird who didn't recognize the safety that the cage around her provided. Her choice to 23:1223 minutes, 12 secondsleave Gondolind was not wrong. Perhaps misguided, but misguided in a way that a lot of us are. This isn't a simple black 23:2123 minutes, 21 secondsand white, right or wrong sort of situation. She's just somebody that made a mistake that got in over her head. She 23:2923 minutes, 29 secondswas self-sacrificial. She guided her son as best she could. But because of these very human failings, perhaps her son was 23:3723 minutes, 37 secondsnot able to put her on the kind of pedestal that he would have needed to in order for him to achieve greatness, or at least to avoid the call of evil. 23:4623 minutes, 46 secondsAdele and her missteps are often thought of as the inciting incident of Gondolan's terrible fall. And it is a 23:5423 minutes, 54 secondstruly frightening thing that all of this grief could stem from the simple sin of being human. Fortunately, not all of 24:0324 minutes, 3 secondsMiddleear's mothers are human, and that means that some of them are able to get a little bit closer to perfection. And I think that the best example of this is 24:1224 minutes, 12 secondsMeon. Meon is a mayar spirit just one power step below the almighty valor 24:1924 minutes, 19 secondsspirits and she came down to Middle Earth and fell in love with the elf king Thingal. Together they ruled the kingdom 24:2624 minutes, 26 secondsof Doryath and they gave birth to their beloved daughter Lucian. Meon is by all 24:3324 minutes, 33 secondsmeasures a good mother. Lucenne is a welladjusted child. Meon uses her divine powers to cradle their lands in safety. 24:4224 minutes, 42 secondsAnd her divine foresight allows her and Thingal to keep their people safe for centuries. When Lucian brings home her 24:5024 minutes, 50 secondsnew human boyfriend, Bon, Thingal is quick to react like a classic dad would. 24:5624 minutes, 56 secondsAn overprotective dad, trying to get Baron to go away. But it is Meon who pulls him back from that ledge and urges 25:0425 minutes, 4 secondshim to take his daughter's feelings into account. Meon helps Lucian discover what has become of Baron when he leaves on 25:1125 minutes, 11 secondshis dangerous quest. And although she sits by and watches as Thingal imprisons Luthian in a tower to keep her from 25:1825 minutes, 18 secondschasing after Baron, she generally acts as a positive guiding force in the story. In other people's tales, Meon 25:2725 minutes, 27 secondsdemonstrates how these motherly qualities aren't just reserved for her own child. She sends Lemba's bread off to Turin to help him in his troubles, 25:3725 minutes, 37 secondsand she heals Hurin of his grief induced madness. Eventually, Meon does depart Middle Earth, but I would say that by 25:4525 minutes, 45 secondsall accounts, she fulfills Tolken's criteria of a positive motherly figure. 25:5025 minutes, 50 secondsShe gives more than she takes. She is warm and engaged in her child's affairs and by nature of being essentially an 25:5925 minutes, 59 secondsangel. She holds up very well to the process of deification. One might extrapolate from this that the only way 26:0626 minutes, 6 secondsto be a perfect Tolkenian mother is to be in some way fundamentally angelic to 26:1426 minutes, 14 secondsbe inhuman. So that means that we have one all-around solid mom amongst a huge sample size of mothers that are either 26:2226 minutes, 22 secondsabsent, failed, or dead. And when a pattern like this is this prevalent in a story, and when that story has gone on to influence so much of today's fiction, 26:3426 minutes, 34 secondsit's worth examining why that pattern may have been created in the first place. In his writing, Tolken drew heavy inspiration from historical literature. 26:4326 minutes, 43 secondsAnd within historical literature, dead or absent mothers were certainly quite common. And this was for a couple of 26:5026 minutes, 50 secondsreasons. First off, maternal mortality used to be a much more likely outcome of childbirth. In the 17th and into the 26:5926 minutes, 59 seconds18th century, maternal mortality rates were around 1.7%. 27:0527 minutes, 5 secondsThese days, that number is just around 03. And that's considerably lower. So that means that when many of today's 27:1227 minutes, 12 secondsclassics were being penned, it was just much more likely that the person writing or reading the story would not have a 27:2027 minutes, 20 secondsmother figure and thus would put this into the story or would want to see it represented in a story. Sexism is also 27:2727 minutes, 27 secondsdefinitely a part of the absence of mothers in fiction because for a very long time, women on the whole did not 27:3427 minutes, 34 secondshave a particularly large role in the world of storytelling, especially the kind of storytelling that Tolken was fond of. A mother might be mentioned for 27:4327 minutes, 43 secondsthe context of one's birth, but once hearth and home were left behind in these quests, battles, and adventures, 27:5027 minutes, 50 secondswomen and especially mothers had no place. Sure, there might be a lovely maiden waiting for the night at home, 27:5827 minutes, 58 secondsbut the stories tend to fade to happily ever after long before that woman undergoes the process of going from being maiden to mother and thus being 28:0728 minutes, 7 secondsrendered undesirable by the eyes of the story. And beyond just societal norms, 28:1228 minutes, 12 secondsit was a very useful trope for a character to not have a mother. Mothers, 28:1828 minutes, 18 secondstraditionally speaking, were meant to be kind of nagging. They would want the hero to stay home, to keep themselves 28:2528 minutes, 25 secondsfrom harm's way. A father would have the wherewithal to know that a son must go off and do this dangerous thing in order 28:3228 minutes, 32 secondsto make his name. But a mother will only hold the hero back. A living and active mother complicates things unnecessarily. 28:4228 minutes, 42 secondsShe's just going to get in the way of true pure heroism. But a dead mother, a dead mother could be a potent tool because a dead mother could be perfect. 28:5328 minutes, 53 secondsAnd for a very long time, especially from the 18th century enlightenment and onwards, perfection was expected from 29:0129 minutes, 1 secondmothers, living or dead. A mother should be wise, serene. She shouldn't have problems of her own and she should be 29:1029 minutes, 10 secondsabsolutely completely stable so that her peace could counterweight the chaotic lives of her sons and husbands. As 29:1829 minutes, 18 secondsJuliet Bger explains in her essay on dead mothers in fiction, a mother's power was through her influence on the 29:2629 minutes, 26 secondsmen around her who in turn would take her influence with them into the public sphere. But this stability of character, 29:3329 minutes, 33 secondssomeone who never grapples with her own trials and tribulations and is in every regard flawless, is simply impossible. A mother is human just like anyone else, 29:4429 minutes, 44 secondsand she cannot be this unchanging force who acts only for the sake of others. 29:4929 minutes, 49 secondsOnly in death can she be eternal and thus romanticized. She becomes a symbol without her own wants and needs that 29:5829 minutes, 58 secondsmight conflict with the people she is supposed to support. Therefore, by killing off a mother, an author provides a moral compass to guide the characters, 30:0830 minutes, 8 secondsyet one who cannot interfere and thus complicate the narrative. For a very long time, the standards for mothers was 30:1730 minutes, 17 secondsexcruciating perfection, and it was seen as a disappointment when the real human could not live up to those standards. 30:2530 minutes, 25 secondsBut through the romanticization of fiction, we had a chance for the perfect mother. All we had to do was take this real human character and mummify them, 30:3730 minutes, 37 secondspurify them down to their simplest essence, remove all of those complicated, rough edges, and you end up 30:4430 minutes, 44 secondswith this character that isn't human anymore, but acts as a very good propellant for the complex human and 30:5430 minutes, 54 secondstypically male protagonist. And while I do think that Tolken was in a lot of ways deriving from this trope and this kind of problematic deification process 31:0331 minutes, 3 secondsfor his writing, it is a bit more complicated than that. Because in many of the cases of Tolken's characters, the 31:1031 minutes, 10 secondsdeath of the character's mother does not drive them forward into success, but rather predicates their fall. Feyenor is 31:1831 minutes, 18 secondsnot so much inspired by his mother's loss as devastated. Adidel's son falls down a terribly dark path after 31:2731 minutes, 27 secondswitnessing her traumatic sacrifice. And Morwin's intentional choice to remove herself from her son's life doesn't 31:3431 minutes, 34 secondsresult in her being deified, but it does result in her son being lost forever. 31:4031 minutes, 40 secondsThere's enough complication added to these situations to make me think that Tolken wasn't just blindly trotting out these tropes, however much they may have 31:4831 minutes, 48 secondsshaped his perception and the way that he wrote. And yet, I can't deny that Tolken's motherly characters are 31:5531 minutes, 55 secondsfrustrating to me as a woman and as someone who knows a lot of mothers and cares about them deeply because these 32:0332 minutes, 3 secondscharacters never have the same kind of agency or presence that their male counterparts do. However, I do think 32:1132 minutes, 11 secondsthat we can find a probable cause for this isolation and alienation of mother characters in Tolken's personal life. 32:2032 minutes, 20 secondsTolken's father died when he was very young. And so his primary parent growing up was his mother, Mabel. Mabel Tolken 32:2832 minutes, 28 secondswas his very first confidant, his very first teacher. She was the one that gave him books to read, that taught him to 32:3632 minutes, 36 secondsread, and that began to teach him languages. They were as well off as could be expected. But this would all 32:4332 minutes, 43 secondschange when Mabel converted to Catholicism, something that her Unitarian family strongly disagreed 32:5032 minutes, 50 secondswith. They cut her off financially and emotionally and personally. But in all of this turmoil, as their family was cut 32:5832 minutes, 58 secondsa drift, Tolken only came to admire his mother more and more. Mabel's workload increased, her health declined, but she 33:0833 minutes, 8 secondsalways did her best to stay true to her faith and to do what she could for her children. And in the eyes of 11 or 33:1533 minutes, 15 seconds12year-old Tolken, she began to take on a near saintly glow. Mabel Tolken died on the 14th of November 1904, and Tolken 33:2533 minutes, 25 secondsfirmly believed that she had done so as a martyr, that she had died for her faith. Tolken and his brother were taken 33:3333 minutes, 33 secondsin by a family friend, a priest named Father Francis. And Tolken took shelter in the church. He came to see his 33:4033 minutes, 40 secondsCatholic faith as the final and most profound gift that his mother had ever given him. And he clung to his faith with all of a lonely child's longing. 33:5133 minutes, 51 secondsBut a faith awakening would not be the only result of Mabel's death. As Tolken's biographer Humphrey Carpenter 33:5833 minutes, 58 secondsdescribes, his mother's death made him into two people. He was by nature a cheerful, almost irrepressible person 34:0634 minutes, 6 secondswith a great zeal for life. He loved good talk and physical activity. He had a deep sense of humor and a great 34:1334 minutes, 13 secondscapacity for making friends. But from now onwards there was to be a second side, more private, but predominant in 34:2134 minutes, 21 secondshis diaries and letters. This side of him was capable of bouts of profound despair. More precisely, and more closely related to his mother's death, 34:3134 minutes, 31 secondswhen he was in this mood, he had a deep sense of impending loss. Nothing was safe. Nothing would last. No battle 34:4034 minutes, 40 secondswould be won forever. Her death made him a pessimist. Or rather, it made him capable of violent shifts of emotion. 34:4834 minutes, 48 secondsOnce he had lost her, there was no security, and his natural optimism was balanced by deep uncertainty. In the 34:5634 minutes, 56 secondswake of his mother's death, Tolken portrayed all the hallmark signs of a traumatized child. Modern psychology 35:0335 minutes, 3 secondsrecognizes that children who have been traumatized, especially by the loss of a loved one, tend to exhibit traits such 35:0935 minutes, 9 secondsas depression, a change of behavior or attitude, and a loss of hope or confidence in the future. And even 35:1835 minutes, 18 secondsthough Humphrey Carpenter was writing before these criteria had been laid out, 35:2235 minutes, 22 secondsit seems like he outlines these exact traits in Tolken. This sudden tilt into 35:2835 minutes, 28 secondspessimism, this unbreakable lack of confidence in what will become of him and the world that he loved. Children 35:3735 minutes, 37 secondswho have been traumatized by loss also tend to find themselves falling into paranormal or supernatural thinking. 35:4435 minutes, 44 secondsThey see signs and omens everywhere. 35:4835 minutes, 48 secondsThey see another layer to the world. And through Tolken, this may have manifested in both his sudden leaning towards 35:5635 minutes, 56 secondsCatholic faith, but also in the very spiritual lens through which he saw the entire world. For Tolken, there was 36:0436 minutes, 4 secondsmeaning to everything, to words, to trees. Well into his adult life, he was known to speak to trees. But either way, 36:1136 minutes, 11 secondswith all of these symptoms looked at together, I think it's fair to say that Tolken was profoundly traumatized by his 36:1836 minutes, 18 secondsmother's loss in some ways that probably he didn't even understand. And undoubtedly, these feelings continued to 36:2636 minutes, 26 secondsimpact him forever. When speaking about his relationship with his wife, who was also a young orphan, Tolken recalls, 36:3436 minutes, 34 seconds"The dreadful sufferings of our childhoods from which we rescued one another, but could not wholly heal the 36:4136 minutes, 41 secondswounds that later often proved disabling. Now, I am well aware of the fact that the Lord of the Rings is not 36:4836 minutes, 48 secondsallegorical. We should not look at the Lord of the Rings as if it is an autobiography of Tolken's personal life, 36:5636 minutes, 56 secondsbut his experiences had a profound and undeniable impact on every part of this 37:0337 minutes, 3 secondsstory. Yes, he is describing and depicting these experiences that are ancient and universal and shared by us 37:1137 minutes, 11 secondsall. But these experiences were in their conception first bounced off of the mirror of Tolken's mind. And I think 37:1937 minutes, 19 secondsthis fact becomes vividly clear when it comes to his rather strange portrayal of mothers. Tolken's mother shaped what he 37:2737 minutes, 27 secondssaw as good maternity. She was selfless right up until the very end, always putting her sons before herself. She was 37:3437 minutes, 34 secondsa massively influential and guiding force in Tolken's life, putting his feet on the path that would take him to so much success and joy and fulfillment. 37:4437 minutes, 44 secondsAnd she was gone and thus rendered untouchably perfect. Any and all flaws 37:5237 minutes, 52 secondsbuffed away by the abrasion of nostalgia. It kind of leaves me wondering if Tolken was just at a loss on how to describe a good living mother. 38:0338 minutes, 3 secondsHis mother was perfect and she was dead. 38:0638 minutes, 6 secondsTherefore, if any mother was to be perfect, death was an inevitability. 38:1238 minutes, 12 secondsThere is something heartbreakingly beautiful in the fact that motherhood was the one topic that Tolken seemed 38:2038 minutes, 20 secondsunwilling to fully broach. There are so many deeply personal and deeply traumatizing things that Tolken explores 38:2738 minutes, 27 secondsin his works with so much depth and passion and curiosity. He fully explores the loss of home and self that comes 38:3638 minutes, 36 secondsabout with the passage of time and the overtaking of industry. He doesn't shy away from the challenges and sorrows 38:4338 minutes, 43 secondsthat can be found with young love. Even the atrocities of war are faced headon, 38:5038 minutes, 50 secondsnot shying away from the things that Tolken found truly troubling. And yet, 38:5438 minutes, 54 secondsmotherhood in all of its reality and depth and fear and complexity is left out. Now, I want to be crystal clear 39:0239 minutes, 2 secondshere that I am not pointing out the shallowess of Tolken's mother characters as a kind of condemnation or cancellation. I think it is evidently 39:1139 minutes, 11 secondsclear that Tolken just had a lot of stuff going on when it came to his experience and his perspectives on 39:1939 minutes, 19 secondsmothers. He was human and thus beautifully imperfect. And in the same way that it would be unfair to demand 39:2739 minutes, 27 secondsabsolute flawlessness from a mother, so it is wrong for us to look back at Tolken and expect him to be anything 39:3539 minutes, 35 secondsother than complicated and messy and human. We shouldn't be putting him up on this pedestal and deifying him and 39:4439 minutes, 44 secondstrying to crystallize his works as the perfect paragon of fiction writing because that does a disservice to the 39:5239 minutes, 52 secondsreal person that he was. Instead, we can read his works. We can appreciate them for all of the good things that they 39:5939 minutes, 59 secondscontain. And we can examine the ways in which his personal experiences may have colored his writings in ways that aren't 40:0740 minutes, 7 secondsnecessarily constructive in the modern day. And we can try and do better. They say that you should write what you know. 40:1440 minutes, 14 secondsAnd I think that Tolken did that. He writes about mothers with a near godly reverence, almost a fear and an 40:2340 minutes, 23 secondsunstoppable instinct to keep them at arms length. But I think that for all of us going forward, we also have the 40:3040 minutes, 30 secondsresponsibility to write and to tell stories based on what we know. And I think that most of us would say that we 40:3740 minutes, 37 secondshave a very different experience of what motherhood is and what it can be than Tolken did. On her deathbed, Aragorn's 40:4540 minutes, 45 secondssaintly mother says, "I gave hope to the Dunadine. I have kept no hope for myself." Although this is a poignant 40:5440 minutes, 54 secondssentiment and one that undoubtedly would have meant a lot to Tolken himself, I hope that most of us can see the fact that in order to give other people hope, 41:0341 minutes, 3 secondsyou don't need to leave yourself scoured out and empty. You don't need to blow out your own candle in order to light 41:1141 minutes, 11 secondssomeone else's. The sacrifice of a mother is a beautiful thing. But my hope 41:1741 minutes, 17 secondsis that the life of a mother, the real messy, complicated human life of a 41:2541 minutes, 25 secondsmother, has even more potential. In the comments, let me know who your favorite Middle Earth mother is. I admittedly 41:3341 minutes, 33 secondshave a huge soft spot for Idril, just because she's one of the most active and badass. And although she does eventually 41:4041 minutes, 40 secondsleave, she waits until her son is fully grown, which I feel like is kind of the best option out of all of the ones that I've been presented today. You see, I 41:4941 minutes, 49 secondswas going to tell you to send this video to your mom, but um I do talk about dead mothers a lot in this one. So, maybe that's not the best bet, but you should 41:5841 minutes, 58 secondsgo and find a mom somewhere, preferably one that you know, and tell them that you're glad they're alive and that you love them because they could probably 42:0642 minutes, 6 secondsuse that. Give this video a like if you enjoyed it, and do consider subscribing if you want to tune in every other week to hear me talk about The Lord of the 42:1442 minutes, 14 secondsRings, the art of storytelling, and the other stuff that I like to talk about. Timeless Lauren Duski • Perfect Universe 42:1742 minutes, 17 secondsThank you so much for joining me this week and every week. And I hope that you have a very happy hobby day.
my comment
great point on rosie cotton for representation. good argument of why the absence of motherly characters is highlighted by so many fatherly characters. Great point on Miriel, and Feanor does go off. It is interesting that Tolkien never finished the Silmarillion. I wonder the edition tolkien would had made, and I wonder if Christopher as editor, influenced the presence of women more. 26:41 hmm good point, the male writers used the idea of the perfect dead mother.This explains the heritage of audience discomfort when a mother is living or a warrior or more. .. I never knew about Tolkiens personal background. good video. Your argument that motherhood was too big a thing to tackle even in his fiction. and yes, i dont think tolkien will accept the idoltry many give him today.
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