Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Twain, mark

recently in the news it ha sbeen made known that a professor was seeking to remove the "n" word from Mark Twain's "Hucklebury Finn." what is disturbing about this reality is that he replaces the "n" word with the word slave.

I find this distrubing. Since when is nigger synonymous with slave.

And why remove it. Is not Twain's use of the word a reminder to us of an important part about our history and where we come from. I find this attempt to sterlize literature a misuse of time and energy.

How bizarre.

Anyway here is a letter that MArk Twain wrote to his pastor friend after the death of his 24 year old daughter. The letter is unedited. It is worth reading to really understand the man behind the literature.

"I do not want most people to write [to me], but I do want you to do it. The others break my heart, but you will not. You have a something divine in you that is not in other men. You have the touch that heals, not lacerates. And you know the secret places of our hearts. You know our life — the outside of it — as the others do — and the inside of it — which they do not. You have seen our whole voyage. You have seen us go to sea, a cloud of sail — and the flag at the peak; and you see us now, chartless, adrift — derelicts; battered, water-logged, our sails a ruck of rags, our pride gone. For it is gone. And there is nothing in its place. The vanity of life was all we had, and there is no more vanity left in us. We are even ashamed of that we had; ashamed that we trusted the promises of life and builded high — to come to this!
"I did know that Susy was part of us; I did not know that she could go away; I did not know that she could go away, and take our lives with her, yet leave our dull bodies behind. And I did not know what she was. To me she was but treasure in the bank; the amount known, the need to look at it daily, handle it, weigh it, count it, realize it, not necessary; and now that I would do it, it is too late; they tell me it is not there, has vanished away in a night, the bank is broken, my fortune is gone, I am a pauper. How am I to comprehend this? How am I to have it? Why am I robbed, and who is benefited?"

Here is a great description of grieve and loss.

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