Blotter

For those who have not had the privilege or opportunity to peruse the books of Nader Saiedi, they come highly recommended from this quarter. Many an ecstatic hour has been spent perusing the pages of Logos and Civilization and Gate of the Heart – Understanding the Writings of the Báb. In fact, the title of the latter has been prophetic in this life, as it has removed many opaque obstructions to understanding the writings of the Herald of the Faith. (Perhaps I shall comment on this further once I have reread the book in a less inebriated state, if that is possible.) Just one of the many valuable aspects of these books is the many provisional translations the author has made, opening worlds of insight and meaning to those of us who speak neither Persian nor Arabic, worlds that hopefully will be accessible to all of us in authoritative versions erelong. Here follows a passage (a summary and paraphrase, not a translation) from of Logos and Civilization, a chapter discussing the Kitáb-i-Badí, an untranslated work of Bahá’u’lláh, a companion volume to the Book of Certitude, and like its predecessor, revealed astonishingly swiftly, 400+ pages in the space of three days.

(One should know, before reading this, that Mírzá Yayhá was a half-brother of Bahá’u’lláh who became His arch-enemy, trying to usurp His place in the hearts of the believers by making spurious claims, issuing ridiculous challenges, stealing and perverting His writings, blackening His name with the Persian and Ottoman authorities with lies and calumny, performing evil deeds such as shaming the Báb’s second wife, ordering the murder of Dayyán, and on several occasions making attempts upon His life, including a poisoning that left His Hand shaking for the rest of His earthly days. Eclipsing the patience of Job, Bahá’u’lláh endured all, protecting Yahyá, keeping him close to Him, helping him to get set up in various businesses, and demanding that the rest of His family respect him, until He had finally had enough, and the Most Great Separation occurred in what is now European Turkey; Yahyá was cast out from the community of the faithful, and ended his days in ignominy and exile in Cyprus, virtually alone.)

Okay, here we go:

"Another moving stylistic element in the Kitáb-i-Badí is Bahá’u’lláh’s narrative of the lamentations and supplications of Mírzá Yahyá’s pen, which has been used to write against the Promised One of the Bayán . . . [the] pen has secretly escaped from him and attained the presence of Bahá’u’lláh, where it has wept and wailed, confessing its shame, sorrow, bewilderment, and anger at Yahyá and its abuse and suffering at the hands of its owner, the arch covenant-breaker. The pen entreats Bahá’u’lláh to act as a fatal weapon against Yahyá, and if He does not grant that wish, at least to liberate it from the fingers of Bahá’u’lláh’s enemy. It expresses its shame before the community of pens and it avows that even if Bahá’u’lláh forgave its sins, it would continue to be mortified because of its role. It admits its confusion and distress at its fate a fate that could not be deserved because it knows that it is non-existent before the divine will, and could not be said to be undeserved because it is unable to understand the logic of mysterious divine wisdom. It complains of the fact that other pens have been used to reveal the words of God in the hand of Bahá’u’lláh, while it has been imprisoned in the grip of the enemy of the Cause of God. The pen declares that its gravest concern is that because of its sins the Pen of Glory may cease to reveal divine worlds, and it implores Bahá’u’lláh to settle its fate and emancipate it from its sorrow, or else make it cease to exist.

"The pen continues to recount its life story to Bahá’u’lláh. From the very first days of its existence as a reed, it longed to attain the presence of Bahá’u’lláh and spent its days and nights in a state of yearning. It endured all hardships for the sake of that wish. Then it was cut off and moved from hand to hand and from place to place until it was bought in the market by one of His servants. But when it was placed in that man’s hand it sensed the odour of his heedlessness and became saddened but remained silent. The servant carried the pen from land to land until he arrived in the land of Bahá’u’lláh’s residence. Joy and delight overtook the pen and it felt itself the king of all kings. It remained in that state of ecstasy till its bearer arrived at a crossroads – one path led to the right and another path led to the left. The man chose the left-hand path, and the pen found itself trembling and wailing until at last the servant reached a house exuding the stench of hell and placed the pen in the hand of the tyrant who rose against Bahá’u’lláh.

"The pen continues to express its unending sense of shame and implores Bahá’u’lláh to take its life and then to recreate it so that it might expunge the memory of its unhappy past. "

(Kitáb-i-Badí, pg. 239-250) Logos and Civilization, pg. 177-178