The eminent literary critic Harold Bloom, who died in 2017,
wrote in his book How to Read and Why this
intriguing passage:
Though Shakespeare perhaps
ought not to have become a secular scripture for us, he does seem to me the
only possible rival to the Bible, in literary power. Nothing, when you stand back from it, seems
odder or more wonderful that our most successful entertainer should provide an
alternative vision (however unintentionally) to the accounts of human nature
and destiny in the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament, and the Koran. Yahweh, Jesus, Allah, speak with authority,
and in another sense so do Hamlet, Iago, Lear, and Cleopatra. Persuasiveness is larger in Shakespeare
because he is richer; his rhetorical and imaginative resources transcend those
of Yahweh, Jesus, and Allah, which sounds rather more blasphemous than I think
it is. Hamlet’s consciousness, and his
language for extending that consciousness is wider and more agile than divinity
has manifested, as yet. (pg. 201)
I rue that
I cannot write to him now about those last two words.
It is not
the primary job of Scripture to be poetic, but lovers and followers of
Scripture repeat passages therefrom for the loveliness of the words themselves
as well as for their spiritual content.
The Beatitudes, as well as other passages from the sayings of Jesus and
the Buddha are memorable for the lyrical beauty of the precepts being
expressed.
In Bahá’u’lláh,
however, we have Scripture deliberately expressed in poetic terms. He quotes classical Persian poets such as
Rumi and Hafiz, among others, and pays homage to them for their penetrating
visions. He also wrote poetry as poetry,
outside of the Revelation to which He was entrusted. But it is in this Revelation that Bahá’ís
are enraptured by passages such as this:
Whither can a lover go but to the land of his beloved? and what
seeker findeth rest away from his heart’s desire? To the true lover reunion is
life, and separation is death. His breast is void of patience and his heart
hath no peace. A myriad lives he would forsake to hasten to the abode of his
beloved.
or
In the Rose Garden of changeless splendour a Flower hath begun
to bloom, compared to which every other flower is but a thorn, and before the
brightness of Whose glory the very essence of beauty must pale and wither.
and hundreds of others. (Of course we must pay no small tribute to
able translators who have striven to capture these Persian and Arabic words
laden with meaning into sublime English.)
Ah,
Bloom, if you only knew. Can you hear
me?
Though Shakespeare perhaps
ought not to have become a secular scripture for us, he does seem to me the
only possible rival to the Bible, in literary power. Nothing, when you stand back from it, seems
odder or more wonderful that our most successful entertainer should provide an
alternative vision (however unintentionally) to the accounts of human nature
and destiny in the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament, and the Koran. Yahweh, Jesus, Allah, speak with authority,
and in another sense so do Hamlet, Iago, Lear, and Cleopatra. Persuasiveness is larger in Shakespeare
because he is richer; his rhetorical and imaginative resources transcend those
of Yahweh, Jesus, and Allah, which sounds rather more blasphemous than I think
it is. Hamlet’s consciousness, and his
language for extending that consciousness is wider and more agile than divinity
has manifested, as yet. (pg. 201)
I rue that
I cannot write to him now about those last two words.
It is not
the primary job of Scripture to be poetic, but lovers and followers of
Scripture repeat passages therefrom for the loveliness of the words themselves
as well as for their spiritual content.
The Beatitudes, as well as other passages from the sayings of Jesus and
the Buddha are memorable for the lyrical beauty of the precepts being
expressed.
In Bahá’u’lláh,
however, we have Scripture deliberately expressed in poetic terms. He quotes classical Persian poets such as
Rumi and Hafiz, among others, and pays homage to them for their penetrating
visions. He also wrote poetry as poetry,
outside of the Revelation to which He was entrusted. But it is in this Revelation that Bahá’ís
are enraptured by passages such as this:
Whither can a lover go but to the land of his beloved? and what
seeker findeth rest away from his heart’s desire? To the true lover reunion is
life, and separation is death. His breast is void of patience and his heart
hath no peace. A myriad lives he would forsake to hasten to the abode of his
beloved.
or
In the Rose Garden of changeless splendour a Flower hath begun
to bloom, compared to which every other flower is but a thorn, and before the
brightness of Whose glory the very essence of beauty must pale and wither.
and hundreds of others. (Of course we must pay no small tribute to
able translators who have striven to capture these Persian and Arabic words
laden with meaning into sublime English.)
Ah,
Bloom, if you only knew. Can you hear
me?
