{"numero_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_sha256": "f8e8b92d1a0d9e40caf62c361582ba1c4838135e6f1b4c2345692ddbaf1901a5", "source_tei": "https://github.com/Princeton-CDH/bluemountain-transcriptions/blob/main/periodicals/bmtnaat/issues/1914/04_01/bmtnaat_1914-04_01.tei.xml", "source_mets": "https://github.com/pulibrary/BlueMountain/blob/main/metadata/periodicals/bmtnaat/issues/1914/04_01/bmtnaat_1914-04_01.mets.xml", "url_numero": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01", "articles": [{"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c001", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c001", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "couv. 1", "page_fin": "couv. 1", "image_debut": 1, "image_fin": 1, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.1", "titre_corps": "THE COLLECTS", "titre_sommaire": "THE COLLECTS", "signature_source": "Horace Traubel", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.1", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 36, "texte": "THE GLEBE\nCOLLECTS\nBy Horace Traubel"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c002", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c002", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "couv. 2", "page_fin": "couv. 2", "image_debut": 2, "image_fin": 2, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.2", "titre_corps": "THE only editorial policy of THE GLEBE is", "titre_sommaire": "THE only editorial policy of THE GLEBE is", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "couv. 2", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.2", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1003, "texte": "THE only editorial policy of THE GLEBE is\nthat embodied in its declaration of absolute\nfreedom of expression, which makes for a range\nbroad enough to include every temperament from\nthe most radical to the most conservative, the only\nrequisite being that the work should have unmistakable\nmerit. Each issue will be devoted exclusively\nto one individual, thereby giving him an opportunity\nto present his work in sufficient bulk to\nmake it possible for the reader to obtain a much\nmore comprehensive grasp of his personality than\nis afforded him in the restricted spaces allotted by\nthe other magazines. Published monthly. THE\nGLEBE will issue twelve books per year, chosen\non their merits alone, since the subscription list\ndoes away with the need of cafering to the popular\ndemand that confronts every publisher. Thus\nTHE GLEBE can promise the best work of American\nand foreign authors, known and unknown.\nThe price of each issue of THE GLEBE will be\nhity cents and the yearly subscription three dollars."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c003", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c003", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "n. p.", "page_fin": "n. p.", "image_debut": 3, "image_fin": 3, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.3", "titre_corps": "COLLECTS", "titre_sommaire": "COLLECTS", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "n. p.", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 8, "texte": "COLLECTS"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c004", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c004", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "n. p.", "page_fin": "n. p.", "image_debut": 4, "image_fin": 4, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.4", "titre_corps": "BOOKS BY HORACE TRAUBEL", "titre_sommaire": "BOOKS BY HORACE TRAUBEL", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "n. p.", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 84, "texte": "BOOKS BY HORACE TRAUBEL\nCHANTS COMMUNAL\nOPTIMOS\nCOLLECTS\nWITH WALT WHITMAN\nIN CAMDEN"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c005", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c005", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[3]", "page_fin": "[3]", "image_debut": 5, "image_fin": 5, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.5", "titre_corps": "COLLECTS", "titre_sommaire": "COLLECTS", "signature_source": "HORACE TRAUBEL", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "[3]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 23, "texte": "COLLECTS\nHORACE TRAUBEL"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c006", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c006", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "5", "page_fin": "5", "image_debut": 7, "image_fin": 7, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.6", "titre_corps": "CONTENTS", "titre_sommaire": "CONTENTS", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "5", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 379, "texte": "CONTENTS\nI'm So Glad I Was Born 7\nPankhurst 18\nWhat Is the Color of Your Skin? 28\nYon Writers Who Are Trying to Write 36\nAll the Engineers Perished 49\nWhat Are Yon Doing for the Cause? 60\nI Claim Everything for the People 70\nTo Leave No Door Unopened 79\nHave You Sold Your Soul for Dirt? 90\nWhen I Look Into the Faces 101\nLoving is the Only Life 11l\nKeep Your Face to the Sun 121"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c007", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c007", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "6", "page_fin": "6", "image_debut": 8, "image_fin": 8, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.7", "titre_corps": "I never found any use for birth or birthdays, dear comrades,", "titre_sommaire": "I never found any use for birth or birthdays, dear comrades,", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "6", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 554, "texte": "I never found any use for birth or birthdays, dear comrades,\ntill I knew what it was to love:\nI could not tell how successful my life is by the number of\nthose who love me: I could only tell that by the number\nof those I love:\nI am victorious only when I have won my love of you from\nmyself: winning your love of me from you is not enough:\nAnd so this day though you may not gather me to you I\ngather you to me, body and spirit:\nAnd so this day I count myself up, not in figures but in\nlove, and say forgiving and jubilant things to my soul\nabout us all."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c008", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c008", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "7", "page_fin": "16", "image_debut": 9, "image_fin": 18, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.8", "titre_corps": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN", "titre_sommaire": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "7", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1450, "texte": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN\nI'm so glad I was born. It seemed so rigbt\nfor me to come. And some day it will seem just\nrigbt for me to go. Maybe not just yet but some-\ntime. I dont know whether it matters much\nwhich side of mystery God feeds me on. lam\nfed. Here or there, nowhere or anywhere, lam\njoyous, a part of things, not to be skipped—an\natom but for which the stars would not hold\ntogether. That's enough for any sane man to\nknow about himself. Yet that's not all I know\nabout myself. I know God made no mistake\nmaking me. Or making you, either. Saint or\nscoundrel, making anybody. I can see other\nthings put aside for my entrance. The Lord said:\nGive him a show. So I was piloted to this earth-\nstar. Nobody specially welcomed me. My fa-\nther and mother were there. And a few others.\nSome may have been sorry. But luckily I was\nthere and in my baby way welcomed myself. I\ndid not rock in that first cradle and say nothing.\nThink of the journeys I had lived through and\nsung through before I got here. Think of gods\nand men and animals and suns and all sorts of\nsoul stuffs and body stuffs that compounded to\nproduce me. Is it any wonder lam stuck on my-\nself after that? I would not be paying great trib-\nute to what went before or to what is to come\nafter if I did not stand here now in great pride\nand declare the wonder of my flesh and the won-\nder of my spirit. I tell yon gods are all right.\nYes, and the law of gravitation is all right. Yes,"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "8", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 25, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1588, "texte": "and Beethoven and Socrates and Lincoln were all\nright. Bnt how about me? Am I not just as\nmuch all right? Suppose an impossibility. Sup-\npose I had not been born. Suppose something\nhad sidetracked me. What would have happened\nto eternity? I dont see how Jesus could have\nbeen passed by. Nor do I see how I can be\npassed by. God had to do it. When the time\ncame for me God had no alternative. You might\nas well put off to-morrow as put off a man when\nhis day has come. So I got my size and shape. I\nam as big as anything because nothing big or\nlittle could get along without me. lam as beau-\ntiful as anything because nothing beautiful could\nbe beautiful without me. Do you call yourself a\nworm? That's all right if you mean to honor\nthe worm. But if you mean to abase yourself\nthen you are unjust to the worm. I never ask\nmyself: Do you know how little you are? lam\nalways nudging myself in the ribs and asking:\nDo you realize how big you are? Nor how bad\nI am. No. But how good I am. Nor how pos-\nsible it is for me to fail. No. But how im-\npossible it is for me not to succeed. So you see\nhow it is lam glad I was born. You may see how\nfar back my reasons go. You may see how far\nahead my reasons go. I have trailed no sable\nclouds of regret across my past. I drag no ob-\nstrucing burden of doubt up to the door of the\nfuture. I keep all ways open to all life. I have\nreceived an inheritance. It crowds me to reple-\ntion with riches. It builds on after all tradi-\ntional builders are done. It is fiery with extra-\nmortal inspirations. Which all comes with being"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "9", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1593, "texte": "glad I was born. I hear people speak of being\nborn right. Was anybody ever born wrong? I\nwas born incomplete bnt I was born right. The\ncomplete invites the incomplete. I was not put\nhere finished. I was put here on the way. I\nwould be sorry if I thought I was born finished.\nA man born finished, his task is done. He could\nretire. That would be the mistake. But the\ncosmos never errs. The cosmos is process. It is\nnot end. So I'm glad I was born. Glad for the\ngrief. Glad for the joy. Satisfied to struggle.\nTo fall in hell and pick myself up in heaven. Sat-\nisfied with the devil in me and the god in me\nworking off their equal debts. I'm glad I was\nborn. I might go on using words forever saying\nthat. Yet my account would only then begin to\nbe paid. I'm so glad I was born.\nI'm so glad I was born. And yon are one of\nmy reasons for being glad. You were born, too.\nAnd I hope yon are as glad about me as I am glad\nabout you. I hope you are glad you were born.\nThey say this is a vale of tears. So it is. It is\nalso a vale of laughter. And laughter and tears\ngive life a single purpose. And laughter in tears\nis glorious. Ho you think I try to hide sorrow\nfrom myself? It sweetens the sap of the tree. I\ntake sorrow for the uses of joy. I dont let sor-\nrow get away with the field. I dont let the bad\nincrease and crowd out salvation. I'm so glad I\nwas born. There's so much work to do. And I'm\nglad I was born just this time. If I had been\ngiven a choice of all ages I would have chosen\njust this age. Not old Greece with all its art\nor old Rome with all its conquests or France in"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "10", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 24, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1578, "texte": "eighty-nine or America in seventy-six or sixty-\none. No age of Pericles for me. No Weimar.\nNo Granada. No Elizabethan era. No age of\nprivileged exceptions. Give me the Bowery and\nnineteen hundred six. Give me the democratic\nrule. God anticipated my whim and said:\nHumor him—it wont hurt. So I came along as\nwell prophesied as anybody. And I know it wont\nhurt. It will help. Do you suppose I mean noth-\ning? Then if I mean nothing God means noth-\ning and the stars mean nothing and the love in\nyour heart means nothing. lam not in doubt\nabout my power and my style. The earth wont\nbe just the same after lam done. It will be dif-\nferent and better. I am appointed to make it\nbetter. So are you. Do you not see that plainly\nindicated everywhere: So are you? I will not\nbray a path into history. Nor fill ostentatious\noffices. Nor be recognized as the supreme mas-\nter this or that of a profession. But the universe\ncant spare me. I, too, must mount the cross.\nThe universe needs my mediation. I know I was\nnot produced for nothing. It cost a heap to pro-\nduce me. I must catch up with an immense an-\ncestral obligation. I must make good for my cos-\nmic bed and board. I have got to prove that the\nfirst atom in faraway time knew what it was\nabout when it attracted and repulsed and\ndreamed towards me. I've got to justify all of\nmy ancestors and I've got to lay my plans so\nmy descendants will justify me. I must pass\neverything on with something added to it. Mu-\nsic with more music. Painting with more paint-\ning. Good books with more good books. All the"}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "11", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1605, "texte": "noble work of man with more noble work of\nmen added. No way turning the tide back. With\nhappiness enough in me to last all the? misery\nout. With light enough in me to last all the\nmisery out. With light enough in me to last all\nthe darkness out. With strength enough in me\nto last all the weakness out. Sad, too, for those\nin grief. But gladder, too, for those who are\nreprieved. Certain that whatever may come no\neclipsing harm can come. Certain that no rain-\ndrop in the universe can lose its way. Certain\nthat, we are jealously cared for though we do not\nalways see the hand that cares and though that\nhand is sometimes cruel. When I see how much\nthere is in my life to be glad for I forget that\nthere is anything in my life to be sorry for. I\nhave no quarrel with the barbarous minute the\nhour is so gentle. With the contrary day the\nyielding year is so conciliatory. With distorted\nages the symmetry of time is so perfect. I do\nnot feel like a waif lost somehow in chaos. lam\nat home in the midst of order. It seems worth\nwhile to live in a universe that is making, that\nhas not made, its title. The universe did not do\nall its work the first day. It said to itself: I'll\nalways leave something over for the workers to\ndo. It said to itself: Traubel will come some\nday: leave something over for Traubel. It said\nto itself: Or anybody, everybody, millions of\nbodies, will come some day: leave something over\nfor them all. The cosmos is left at loose ends\nhere and there. That was just meant for you.\nGo to work on it. I)out fret and growl. Dont\nsit down and cry and tell yourself that it's a"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "12", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 24, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1623, "texte": "rather shameful cosmos anyway and might have\nbeen immaculate if it had chosen to. No. Be a\ncosmos yourself. Be a god or a first assistant\nor a fourth remove man or sombody and put in a\nbit of perfection over your own name. Get into\nthe nebulous push somewhere. Drag, shove, pull,\nlift: do something to add to the active substance\nof deity. I'm mighty glad so much was left over.\nI dont want to send in to the celestial court any\nexcuse for default. The lords god may say: We\nneed not worry: our brother is there. The lords\ngod know what they are about. They know their\nbrother can be relied on. They may sleep with-\nout bad dreams. Does it ever occur to you to\ngive the overworked gods a rest and get busy\nyourself? The heart's good will should come out\nof the heart with gladness on its lips. The song\nshould be glad it got done. It should lift its\ntones in praise. lam glad I got done. I lift my\ntones in praise. Creation belongs to gladness.\nCan anything that is sorry it was born give birth\nto life that will be glad it is alive? Laughter is\nthe headline and footnote and signature of crea-\ntion. When the dream to be a man became a\nman cosmos laughed. It was happy. It had dom\na creditable job. When a man somewhere lived\nlove's equal and final life with a woman some-\nwhere and a child somewhere flamed from the\nmutual fire, the sun laughed in kinder beams of\nlight and the starshine smiled over the cradled\nhope. Igo everywhere saying lam glad I was\nborn. It is such an innocent thing to say. It\nseems so like a child to say it. Yet I never heard\nyou say it. lam waiting to hear you say it. I"}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "13", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1621, "texte": "want to hear you say it once. Then I want to\nhear you say it always. Get in the habit of say-\ning it. So possessed you cant help saying it.\nNo matter who or what says no saying yes your-\nself. Saying it to yourself when you are alone,\nsaying it to us, saying it in silences, saying it out\nloud. No: I never heard you say it. I have heard\nyou read the riot act on creation. I have heard\nyou growl like a bear and squeak like a rat. I\nhave heard you tell how bad life is. Not how\ngood life is: no: how bad. How bad a toothache\nis. Not how good a sound tooth is: no: how bad.\nThere are bleak winds and consuming fires. I\nhave been frostbitten and burned. Why should\nyou make so much the most of misery and so\nmuch the least of health? Why should you enter\nall the charges and none of the credits? Why\nshould you not put in a figure or two on the\nother side and admit the balance of benefit?\nWhat's the use always going down stream? Why\nnot also go up with the flood? I am possessed\nwith gladness. I can see that all the worlds\ngroan and travail in laughter. I can see that the\nshadow laughs in the sun. I can see that the\nwrongs laugh in the right. I can see the greeds\nthat destroy laugh in the generosities that save.\nI can see all that is crooked in the social order\nlaughing itself into all that will be straight in\nthe social order. Over all I prevail: I, too, god\nby heritage, recreating the forever recreated\nstars. I, too, adding more gladness to the multi-\nplied gladness of time. I, too, pouring out of my\nlimitless stores limitless streams of rejoicing. I,\ntoo, an equal maker and sustainer of undoubted"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "14", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 24, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1674, "texte": "life. I, too, smiling back order into any chaos.\nI, too, always merry and rejuvenescent. I who\nam so glad I was born.\nI'm so glad I was born. I like to tell about\nthat. I like to say it to people who want to hear\nand to people who do not want to hear. I like to\ntell it to the man who is about to give up. I no-\ntice that he begins again. I like to tell it to the\nmusician who thinks his inspiration is all gone. I\nnotice that now he writes the finest songs ever. I\nlike to tell it to the lover who is not loved. I no-\ntice that he is afterwards satisfied to love, not\ncrazy to be ] oved. I like to tell it to the man who\nis robbed and to the man who robs. I notice that\nboth hear me right for both see that it is better to\nbe robbed than to rob. I like to tell it. to the sick.\nThe sick take hope. The sick, too, say: We are\nglad we were born. Glad to be born even if born\nto sickness. (Though no one is born to sickness.)\nAnd gladness is forever the footway of dreams. I\ncan go to the injustices of the world with my joy.\nI am not afraid that the injustices can refute my\njoy. For injustice never can refute justice. My\njubilant rhapsodies will prevail. They will go\nwhere nothing else will go. They will go where\narguments will not go and figures will not go.\nThey will go where logic will not go and law will\nnot go. They will go where the pride of faith will\nnot go and the humility of faith will not go. They\nwill go where the sun will not go and the rains\nwill not go. I say I'm glad I was born. I am\ngood seed for any ground. No soil could be so\nbad my seed is not good for it. I am good will\nfor any life. No life could be so poor my seed is"}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "15", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.17", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1613, "texte": "not rich for it. I ain the victorious day that\ncomes after every other day has come and failed.\nI am the courage that comes after every other\nresolution has come and failed. lam everything\ntrue that comes after everything false has come\nand failed. lam the conquering work of your\nbrains and your hands that comes after all other\nwork has come and failed. I'm so glad I was\nborn. Glad for the universe. What luck it was\nto the universe the day I was born. I feel that\nthe universe was full paid all old credits that day.\nI came. Ido not hesitate to tell anybody how\nmagnificent I am. Ido not try to divert atten-\ntion from myself by calling attention to the earth\nthat is so many miles through and the sun that\nis so many degrees hot. I let the devastators do\nthat. I see how much more than their less I\namount to. Earths and suns are only a meager\nper cent, to the plenty of my exaltation. You\ncant take earths and suns to your heart. But\nyou can take me to your heart. You cant take\nyour degrees and decorations to your heart. They\nalways fall short of solace and must fall short.\nBut you can take me to your heart. I never fall\nshort. You cant take your position in society to\nyour heart. You cant take your overcapitalized\nname to your heart. You cant take your riches\nto your heart. Oh, you cant take your riches, all\nyour thousands, all your houses, all your swell\npossessions, to your heart: and they cost you\nmuch. But you can take me to your heart, you\ncan take my eyes that see and ears that hear to\nyour heart, you can take my announcements of\nimmortal life to your heart: they never default,"}, {"page_pdf": 18, "page_imprimee": "16", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.18", "debut_caractere": 24, "fin_caractere_exclue": 237, "texte": "never fall short: and they cost yon nothing. I\nguess I have said all I can say about that. I have\ngot so far in my raptures now I have got beyond\nwords. You must get the rest without words.\nI'm so glad I was born."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c009", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c009", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "17", "page_fin": "17", "image_debut": 19, "image_fin": 19, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.9", "titre_corps": "And so I have come to sing life: I have come to bring that", "titre_sommaire": "And so I have come to sing life: I have come to bring that", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 19, "page_imprimee": "17", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.19", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 895, "texte": "And so I have come to sing life: I have come to bring that\nwhich is hidden to the surface:\nAnd so I have been set apart to deal honestly with man\nand woman and sex and suffer for it:\nAnd so I have been chosen from all the rest as the one who\ncan say what the rest think and desire and dare not\njustify:\nAnd so I declare for them: for the discredited dreams: for\nthe obscured purposes: declare for them and invite those\nwho are angry to take it out of me:\nAnd so I stand about where the most people are and issue\nmy challenge and wait for the result:\nFeeling back of me holding me up the brave beautiful average\nmen and women mv comrades who look to me to serve\nv\nthem:\nComing into the big world with my little challenge: receiving\nmy cues from what is suppressed in others:\nCasting my uncompromising nos into the faces of the rulers\nof the earth: defying their fences and their written\ncompacts."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c010", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c010", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "18", "page_fin": "26", "image_debut": 20, "image_fin": 28, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.10", "titre_corps": "PANKHURST", "titre_sommaire": "PANKHURST", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 20, "page_imprimee": "18", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.20", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1391, "texte": "PANKHURST\nPankhurst. The world has been saying that\nword under its breath and over its breath. You\nhave been saying it. The papers have been say-\ning it. It has been on the lips of professors and\nagitators. It has been made fun of and been\nshuddered over. Maybe you have thought it was\nthe name of a woman. So it was. But it was\nmore than that. It was the name of a revolution.\nAs the name of a woman it would mean nothing\nin particular. As the name of a revolution it be-\ncomes prophecy and history. That's why the\npeople who put the woman in jail found that they\ncouldn't put the revolution in jail. And if you\ncant forcibly feed a woman how much less likely\nyou are to forcibly feed a revolution. That sin-\ngle word of two syllables. It cuts into prejudice\nlike the blade of a knife. A woman's name. Say\nit over to yourself. At first it may sound com-\nmonplace. But keep on. Say it over and over.\nIt will become marching armies. It will become\nmartial music. It will trumpet you to vast vic-\ntories. Women don't need to say woman now.\nThey only need to say Pankhurst. You tell\nme I am talking of an arrogant woman only\na few feet high who is bent upon destruction.\nYes: lam talking of her. She is the gateway\nthrough which I pass. But lam also talking of\nthe revolution which is so high no vision can\nreach its summit. Pankhurst is a dream come\ntrue. Pankhurst is an ideal in action. This"}, {"page_pdf": 21, "page_imprimee": "19", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.21", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1561, "texte": "law. She's inveterate. She asserts, she sum-\nmons, she demands. Yet she's calm. She: the\nmother incarnate. She's the maternal made rev-\nolution. She's sex. Women don't all recognize\nher. They are dubious. But she proceeds and\nsays nothing. She asks no favors and gives none.\nShe dont apologize. She asks nobody's forgive-\nness. She makes no palsying explanations. She\ngoes on and on. Just as gravitation goes on and\non. Just as time goes on and on. My eyes never\nstop with the woman. I pass to that by which\nshe is fortified. Listen to what she says. Do\nyou belittle her message ? Return: listen again:\nweigh her grave confessions. Every word she\nsays is the word of revolution. Dont you think\nyou've been warned enough? Get your impudent\nproperty out of the way. That infernal property.\nIt interrupts the vision. But for it we'd go\nstraight to our end. Pankhurst. I heard her\nspeak the other night. It was in a hall. Thou-\nsands of people were there. She was on the big\nstage in the half dark. She spoke to us. The\ngreat building disappeared. The woman who\nspoke and those who were spoken to disappeared.\nI was left alone with an idea. The pure, the\nuiidefiled, idea. Revolution. Are you afraid\nnow? Is the mother in you afraid—or the\nfather? Or is the child in you afraid? Do you\nshrink back with horror from this issue? You\ndare to acknowledge mothers. But are you afraid\nof the maternal? You dare to say woman. But\nare you afraid to say revolution? Woman is\noffering no petition. She is not saying her\nprayers. She is not humbly beseeching anybody"}, {"page_pdf": 22, "page_imprimee": "20", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.22", "debut_caractere": 11, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1564, "texte": "for anything. Woman is vehemently afoot full\narmed marching victoriously across the earth ex-\nacting tribute making light of the phantom ob-\nstacles that formerly drove her back into the\nlambpit. If I say Pankhurst I say all of you not\none of you. The great auditorium disappeared.\nI was alone somewhere with an idea. Her\nphrases are the least of her. Revolution is the\nmost of her. What she was there before my eyes\nmaking a speech was as nothing compared with\nwhat she became to me in the unseen and the\nsilences. I am awed. The revolution becomes\nflesh. The revolution becomes woman. She\nsailed across the ocean in a ship. She put her\nname on the ship's register. Revolution came in\nanother name. And the registry registered it in\nanother name. Then they didn't want her to\nland. Some of them. They didn't know her by\nher real name but even as it was they felt that\nher ominous entrance promised no good. Revo-\nlution waited for revolution. Woman waited for\nwoman. Have you gone about all these years\nsupposing woman wouldn't finally strike her\nblow? She waited till it was time. The woman's\nday is here. The man's day, too: for man can\nhave no day without woman nor woman without\nman. Many of you still tremble. You'd rather\nshe hadn't come. But it had to happen. The\nrevolution was due. You harbored it under dis-\nguise. She set it out in the open. You didn't\nwant to acknowledge how big round it was. She\nrefused to hide the fact from itself. You were\nthe disciples of revolt. Or the partners. Or the\nrevolutionary faithfuls. But she was more. She"}, {"page_pdf": 23, "page_imprimee": "21", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.23", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1553, "texte": "was revolution incarnate. She was the godmade\nwoman sent to earth to proclaim the future.\nThere you have it. Not a mere woman. Though\na mere woman is no more to he made light of than\na mere man or a mere cosmos. Yet not a mere\nwoman. That, surely: then infinitely more than\nthat. Revolution. Pankhurst.\nPankhurst. The shadow on the horizon. The\nblack darkness gathering overhead and around.\nThe threatening forefinger of fate. The menace\nof maternity. The uprising of a sex. The com-\nrade woman challenges the wife woman. It must\nbe resented. We must throw back the waves of\nthe sea. Here is another revolt against property.\nThese people too put people first. How mon-\nstrous. To put a woman or a man first. To\nput a mother first. We must teach mothers their\nplace. And people too: we must teach them their\nplace. The death of a man or a woman: what is\nthat? But burning down a house: that is an\nattack on civilization. These new women want\neverything. They treat husbands as if they were\nno more than men. They treat property as if it\nwas dirt under their feet. They say nothing mat-\nters but hearts and love. Well: hearts and love\nare not bad if you keep them where hearts and\nlove belong. But if you bring hearts and love\ninto politics or economics then you are invading\na forbidden sphere. We've got to set back the\nclock. Time's going too fast. A man said: I\ndont like it. I asked him: Dont like what? He\nsaid: This woman business. I asked: What\nwoman business? He said: Woman in politics.\nI asked: Dont you think they're capable of poli-"}, {"page_pdf": 24, "page_imprimee": "22", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.24", "debut_caractere": 11, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1609, "texte": "tics ? He exclaimed: My God, yes: too capable!\nI asked: Then why do you kick? He said: Be-\ncause if they go into politics they'll make this a\nwoman's world and I dont want to live in a wo-\nman's world. That's it. When the woman be-\ncomes real they dont want to live in a woman's\nworld. Just as profit-believing people don't want\nto live in a man's world when a real man appears.\nIf this is not a mother's world whose world is it?\nThe man said: I dont want to live in a woman's\nworld. Just as profit-believing people dont want\nfrom their own side: We don't want to live in\na man's world. • Yet if this is not a father's world\nwhose world is it? You dont want the world the\nwomen will make it possible for real fathers to\nlive in. Yon don't want the world the men will\nmake it possible for real mothers to live in. You\nsay: Half a world's a good enough world for me.\nYou say: A whole world's too big for me. Then\nyou hear the reply. Then you see the reply.\nWords reply. Mobs reply. Conflagration re-\nplies. Quarrels, battles, reply. This still water\nof man's peace has been ruffled by woman's tem-\npest, Things were going on so good. Then\nthese sexless rebels had to come. Just as money\nsays to people in the economic sphere: Things\nwere so serene: then you had to come. Yes,\nsomething always has to come. Every time or-\nthodoxy settles itself for a long tenure some-\nthing has to come. Just as clear days are getting\nused to themselves stormy days come. We had\nthings arranged just about right. It wasn't ideal.\nWe acknowledge imperfections. But on the\nwhole it was about right. Woman was just about"}, {"page_pdf": 25, "page_imprimee": "23", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.25", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1572, "texte": "where she ought to be. Labor too was just about\nwhere it ought to be. Then something happened.\nSomething always does happen. Labor got to\ngrowling. And now woman's got to growling.\nWoman. Haven't we given woman the choicest\ntidbits of life? And yet she says no. She says\nthat would be all right if something else was first\nall right. That something else is her freedom.\nIs her claim to herself. She says that comes\nfirst. Why : that's just what labor is saying.\nWe've got to fight labor. We've got to fight\nher. It's in fact one quarrel with two wings.\nAnd we'll crush them with one answer. We've got\nto or this world'll go to pot straightaway. If it's\ngot so that a man's got a right to be a man\nthrough a woman's right to be a woman. If it's\ngot so that a woman's got a right to be a woman\nthrough a man's right to be a man. If that's so\nthen I want to know the reason why. This whole\nliberty stuff is nonsense. Don't you see how it\nis ? My God! If this keeps up the first thing you\nknow this'll be a liberty world. Look at it hon-\nest. Dont you see it yourself? Reason it\nout in your own mind. Every other considera-\ntion will be set aside. Democracy will run homes,\nbusiness, states, everything. Horrible. This will\nbe a liberty world. And I dont want to live in a\nliberty world. Pankhurst.\nPankhurst. When I hear you say that word\nI can tell what you think of yourself. I dont\nhave to ask you for other evidences. Whether\nyou lift your voice or drop it. That tells the\nwhole story. Whether there is any mother in\nyour voice. Whether there is any love in it."}, {"page_pdf": 26, "page_imprimee": "24", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.26", "debut_caractere": 11, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1568, "texte": "You're not dealing here with a person. You're\ndealing with a race. The person comes and goes.\nRut the new day; it comes and never goes. Now\nand then the world names a new star. All the\nglasses are lifted towards the revealed luminary.\nThere's the clamor of those who see it and those\nwho half see it and those who dont see it at all.\nYou cant know Pankhurst by reading the per-\nsonals in the newspapers. You cant get ac-\nquainted with her by taking the stories of her\nlife for what they literally say. She brings all\nthat woman can bring. Then she brings what\nwas before and what is after. If you have the\ngreat person theory you'll not understand why\nshe is here and what she has accomplished. But\nif you have the great race theory the clouds'll\nwash out of the skies and you'll see the sun. We\nhave long said: Man shall hold no property in\nman. The women come along now and say:\nMan shall hold no property in woman. Then\nIgo farther. Igo to the end. I say: Man shall\nhold no property in property. What are you\nlistening for? It's a great voice. Women are\nnot primarily voters. They are women. They\nare sex. They are mothers. The maternal is\nspeaking up for itself. Votes for women. That's\nthe mere surface of the stream. Souls for wo-\nmen. Bodies for women. That's the far cry.\nEvery woman has a father in her. Every man has\na mother in him. That which has been confined.\nThat shall be released. That which has been re-\nfused woman. That she demands. That which\nwoman has refused herself. That she will re-\nsume. A great flame lit in a vast shadow. That's"}, {"page_pdf": 27, "page_imprimee": "25", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.27", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1546, "texte": "what it all is. This little woman overflowing\nwith calm vehemence: what is she? Just the\nmother of two daughters? Just the wife of a\ndead husband? Just a prisoner in British jails?\nThat's the average of her. But that's not the\nmost of her. She reaches out over the earth.\nShe ceases to be a person. She becomes a pres-\nence. She who can be measured becomes the\nimmeasurable. My eyes sweep her inspiring hor-\nizons. I follow her lead. Let her go where her\nfeet and her wings take her. Down anywhere,\nup anywhere. Resisted no matter how, welcomed\nno matter where. Every mile she travels is sa-\ncred to a common trust. Dedicated to a uni-\nversal purpose. Are you skulking? Do you\nworry the years away with quibbles? Rather\nthat every atom of property should go up in\nsmoke if the people are left. Rather anything\nthan that the soul should pay the bills of prop-\nerty. When men are victims you say: We are\nsaved. When dollars are victims you say: We\nare ruined. You can brush aside a man or a\nwoman. But you cant alter the will of the fates.\nYou can turn your back to the sunshine. But\nyou cant stand in the way of the sun. You can\ntake the splash of the sea. But you cant stop\nit from rolling up the shore. You can lock your-\nself in your house. But you close the rest of\nus out. When the man comes what has the wo-\nman got to say? When the woman comes what\nhas the man got to say? The answer of the man\nis found in the woman. The answer of the wo-\nman is found in the man. The woman has the\nfloor. She asks her pertinent impertinent ques-"}, {"page_pdf": 28, "page_imprimee": "26", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.28", "debut_caractere": 11, "fin_caractere_exclue": 970, "texte": "tions. She asks whys and wherefores. You ex-\nhibit your tax receipts in reply. She asks you\nwhat you are. You answer by showing her what\nyon have. You think you shine through what\nyou own. Far from that. You can only shine\nthrough what you dont own. This little woman\nhas made all your big fortunes look mean. This\nlittle idea has made all your big theories look\ncheap. Everything else always does look insig-\nnificant when a real man or woman comes round.\nWhen vou shook hands with this woman vou\n*/ tu\nmore than touched the palms of life and death.\nWhen you looked into her eyes you read more\nthan the tablets of Sinai. When you heard her\nspeak words you listened to more than the music\nof waters and winds. When you measured her\nand weighed her you tested more than the sizes\nand shapes of starry universes. The woman\ncomes. Oh man: what has the woman in you\ngot to say of it? The man comes. Oh woman:\nwhat has the man in you got to say of it? Pank-\nhurst."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c011", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c011", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "27", "page_fin": "27", "image_debut": 29, "image_fin": 29, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.11", "titre_corps": "I have met men and women and men and women: they are", "titre_sommaire": "I have met men and women and men and women: they are", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 29, "page_imprimee": "27", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.29", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 982, "texte": "I have met men and women and men and women: they are\nall sizes: yet they are all one size:\nI have never so far met a man or a woman little enough\nfor me to be arrogant with:\nI have never so far met a man or a woman big enough for\nme to humble myself to:\nMen and women dont seem to me made to be figured upon:\nthey are made to be immeasurable:\nThey dont seem to me made to be accepted or rejected: they\nare made to be my comrades:\nWe are all so much alike I dont see how we could be\ndifferent:\nWe are all so different I don't see how we could fail to be\nalike:\nA few horizons added to a man's dream: do they make one\nman better than another?\nA few inches added to a man's waist: do they make one\nman superior to another?\nFrom way up these are such minor matters: the wave drops\naway in the sea:\nFrom way up our castes and borderlines are such minor\nmatters: they lapse away in the soul:\nFor we are in the end not masters and slaves, not up and\ndown: we are only brothers and sisters."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c012", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c012", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "28", "page_fin": "34", "image_debut": 30, "image_fin": 36, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.12", "titre_corps": "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF YOUR SKIN?", "titre_sommaire": "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF YOUR SKIN?", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 30, "page_imprimee": "28", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.30", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1449, "texte": "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF YOUR SKIN?\nWhat is the color of your skin? Are you a\nchild of the sun or a child of the snow? Do\nyou come with red in your face? Or is there a\nshadow across your head? Are you the white child\nof a black mother or the black child of a white\nmother ? I see your brown red right hand. How\nwarm it feels to me. I look into your glowing\nequatorial eyes. How like being led to fathers\nand mothers that is. You bring me north south\neast west. You guide yourselves to me. You\ndistribute me among yourselves. lam your child\nno matter how. Your child no matter where.\nThere are seas everywhere. But there is no sea\nbetween us. There are interfering miles of space\nand hours of time. But they dont break us from\neach other. I was born of my mother and here\nI am. You were born of your mothers and there\nyou are. The earth was born of the sun. The\nsun was born of what? I mix up the elements.\nI come out one place. You come out another\nplace. From the same mother womb. From\nthe same father seed. To the same brother earth.\nDo you hold a noose over me? Or drop a sword\nfrom above as I pass? Or shoot me down in\nmy tracks? Or pass laws of which I'm the vic-\ntim? Or lock your housedoors when I knock?\nMy credentials are the same as yours: no better\nthan yours. lam the harvest of the same plant-\ning :no more than that harvest. Like you I have\none life to live on one earth before I pass on. Do\nI stand on my icy heritage and freeze the heat"}, {"page_pdf": 31, "page_imprimee": "29", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.31", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1596, "texte": "out of your love? Remember the stream: go up\nwith it to its sources: go down with it to the sea.\nEvery atom dancing in the light or clouded by the\nstorm advances and retreats in perfect equity and\nperfect order. Dear prouds and humbles: by\nGod I'm yours and you're mine. Do you believe\nthat anything can take you from me or take\nme from you? I meet you. I read about you.\nlam told all the terrible truths. But everything\ndraws me nearer. Nothing drives me away. If\nyou could be less to me than I am to myself then\nI would have to be more to myself than I could\nbe to you. That would violate my democracy.\nThat would be setting one thing above another.\nWhen I elevate myself with all I am a democrat.\nWhen I lift myself above the rest I am a tyrant.\nListen to me. Yon who are reading what I write.\nMaybe you are black. Maybe you are pink or\nwhite or vellow. Maybe vou are between or\n*J tJ V\nacross. All that goes with maybe. But when\nyou are my brother there is no maybe to it. If I\ncould look at any man-and not see his mother as\nmy own I'd be false to all motherhood. If I\ncould look at any woman and not see her father as\nmy own I'd be false to all fatherhood. I'm not\nsatisfied with one mother. I want all mothers.\nNor with one father. I want all fathers. Nor\nwith my children. I want all children. I'm not\nsatisfied with one color. I want all colors. Nor\nwith one race. I want all races. Nor with one\nlanguage. I want all languages. My hunger is\nfiercely universal. I'm not fed till I've eaten at\nevery table. I can only know one woman by\nknowing all women. I can only know one peo-"}, {"page_pdf": 32, "page_imprimee": "30", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.32", "debut_caractere": 32, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1602, "texte": "pie by knowing all peoples. What is the color\nof my skin? What is the sound to the song?\nWhat is the water to the ocean? That's what\nthe rest of me is to my exterior. That's what\nthe substance in me is to my show. That's what\nmy foundations are to my rooftree. There at the\nbottom we are together. And at the top: there\nwe are together. We begin together and end to-\ngether. But we are alienated in the journey.\nWhen we start out in the morning we say good\nby. When we meet again at night we ask: How\ndo you do? What wrenched us apart in the strug-\ngle of the pilgrimage? Why should those who\nare friends before and friends again after be ene-\nmies while they travel? I say to the other—col-\nored peoples: You have to be my brothers whe-\nther you want to or not, thank God. Ho they say\nto me: You have to be my brother whether you\nwant to or not, thank God? What is the color\nof your soul ? What is the color of your skin ?\nWhat is the color of your skin? I see. You\nare a nigger. You are a damned dago. You are\nthe man on the other side of the wall. The man\nover somewhere. The yellow peril. The igno-\nrant dirty emigrant. The two for a quarter six\nfor a half dollar mill slave. There is a border\nline between us. There are incomes between us.\nThere is a whole code of manners between us.\nYou are the godforsaken polack. You are the\nhooknosed jew. You are the monkeyfaced irish-\nman. You are the beerguzzled deutscher. I call\nyou names. I can't see you. You are in the next\nyard. The stars look just as well from the next\nyard. But I insist upon the exclusive astronomy"}, {"page_pdf": 33, "page_imprimee": "31", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.33", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1591, "texte": "of my own garden. I smell your stale clothes. I\nam choked by the aromas of your foul kitchens.\nWould you like your sister to marry an african?\nI'm not fussy. I'm only a man. A white man.\nI don't draw lines ferninst you. I only draw\nlines in favor of myself. Do you mean to say\nyou think these ignoramuses as good as yourself ?\nDo you tell me that you're no better than the\nherd? Nonsense. There's the nietzschean word\nfor it. The average man is the herd. The awk-\nward big-fisted loon. The idiot crowd. The peo-\nple everybody kicks. The folks everybody de-\nspises. The men women children you wouldn't\ninvite into your home. I use them. Ride them.\nMake money off them. But that's all I want of\nthem. Just the robber money. Not the man love.\nLook at them filing to work tired to start with.\nLook at them filing back from work like a funeral\nnearly dead to end with. They're a rum lot.\nThey're worth a hundred cents on the dollar and\nup in the labor market. They're worth about ten\ncents on the dollar and under 011 the social plane.\nMy God! but they're a scabby bunch. It makes\nme sick to see them. Look at them as they work\ntheir treadmill. Don't they give themselves\naway? Right and left, north and south, look\nwhere you choose: they are the slobbering to-\nbaccoey stay-behinds and passbacks of the dump-\nheap. Every mother's son of 'em useful to me\nmaybe but useless to themselves. Down in their\nluck, to be sure. But sentenced for life just the\nsame. The jackjohnsons of society. The refuse\nof birth and death. The clods. The dullards.\nThe heavyfooted and heavyheaded bowlegs and"}, {"page_pdf": 34, "page_imprimee": "32", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.34", "debut_caractere": 32, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1549, "texte": "knock-knees. The slave asses yoked to an in-\nescapable bnrden. Who are you that yon dont\nbelong? Are you of us few or of their very\nmany? Are you of the interest bearing rent\ncollecting profit class or do you fester in these\nmaggoty bottoms of fate? Stay where you fall\nno matter how far down you are. Dont try to\nclimb. We shove you all over the cliff again.\nWe throw dust in your eyes. We confuse you in\nclouds of verbiage. We disarm you. We have\nlaws to make you afraid. We have creeds to\nmake you hopeless. We have poets who kill you\nwith pensive despairs. Do you dare aspire to\nanything? Stay where you are in your deep\nmud. There is no above to vou. No bevoiid.\nNo ease. No dreamworld. You were condemned\nbefore you were born. You remain condemned\nwhile you live. And you will continue con-\ndemned when you become the dung in the barn-\nyard at last. A woman heard me expressing my\nrace faith. She asked me: \"How would you\nlike to have a grandchild with a black skin?\"\nThat was it. That was the whole devilish poison-\nous story. The entire problem prejudice in a\nnutshell. She didn't ask: How would you like\nto have a grandchild with a black soul? That\nwould have meant something. But she wasn't\ninterested in souls. She was interested in skins.\nHow would I like to have a grandchild with a\nblack skin. What is the color of your skin?\nWhat is the color of your skin? Maybe you\nhave a black skin and a white heart. Maybe you\nhave a white skin and a black heart. I dont\nknow. We talk about the yellow peril when we"}, {"page_pdf": 35, "page_imprimee": "33", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.35", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1600, "texte": "think of Asia. And we talk about the brown\nperil when we think of Italy. And we talk about\nthe black peril when we think of South Carolina.\nBut all of us are afraid to talk of the white peril.\nI see no perils. My arms reach out to all. I\nwant the Chinaman to possess himself of the\nearth if he's an earth man. Let him freely pass\nright and left testing himself and us. Dont put\nup pennywise barriers built 011 poundfoolish\nlaws. Bather do anything than stop your fra-\nternities short of the total census of man. Every\ninterfering sea, every contradicting statute, every\ncounterchecking prejudice, every adventure in\nmoney-making, that nullifies the international in-\nference is a slap in the face of brotherhood.\nDamn up the human stream. Then you damn\ndown the soul. The old negro mammy in Georgia\nasked me as I left: Will you do something for\nme? I said: Yes, if you'll do something for\nme? She asked: Will you kiss me good by? I\nsaid: Yes—on condition that you kiss me good\nby. I would only be worthy to take if I was\nworthy to give. I'd say to all the world: I would\nonly be worthy of loving if I was worthy of being\nloved. I would only be worthy of being an Amer-\nican if I was worthy of being a Jap. I would\nonly be worthy of serving if I was worthy of\nbeing served. I would only cease being a peril\nif I ceased calling others perilous. How could I\nbe worthy of being a white man if I was too good\nto be a black man? Ethiopia cries out loud to\nScandinavia, India cries out loud to England.\nAll the peoples cry out loud from everywhere to\nall the peoples. There is no peril in peoples."}, {"page_pdf": 36, "page_imprimee": "34", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.36", "debut_caractere": 33, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1305, "texte": "There is only peril in you and me. There is no\nperil in anything that brings any of us together.\nThere is only peril in what keeps us or drives us\napart. Igo with mothers fathers children. Igo\nwith birth and death. Igo with dreaming and be-\nlieving. Igo with mixing and mating. These are\nthe same everywhere. The same with you black\nand me white. The same with my skin burnt to\nfire and the same with your skin frozen to the\nwhiteness of snow. The same with duskies and\npalefaces. I dont go with maps. With geogra-\nphies. With diplomacies. With kingdoms and\nrepublics. With genius aristocracy pauperism.\nWith success and the main chance. I only go\nwith people. With folks. And with them I go\nanywhere they go. Into any hell or any heaven.\nInto any hope or any despair. With people.\nWhere people go I may go too. But where peo-\nple are refused there lam shut out. The woman\nasked me: Would you like to have a grandchild\nwith a black skin? She brought her question to\nthe wrong court. She should not have addressed\nit to me. She should have taken it to God.\nWould God like to have a grandchild with a\nblack skin? It's as though we asked God: What\nwould you think of yourself if you happened to\nbe black or red? What is the color of your soul?\nWhat is the color of your skin?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c013", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c013", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "35", "page_fin": "35", "image_debut": 37, "image_fin": 37, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.13", "titre_corps": "O you despairers of destiny! O you plunderers of time!", "titre_sommaire": "O you despairers of destiny! O you plunderers of time!", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 37, "page_imprimee": "35", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.37", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 470, "texte": "O you despairers of destiny! O you plunderers of time!\nyou make a great noise in the silences:\nAll that you need to do is to open your eyes: that is the\nsecret: look:\nYou come to me; I cant look for you: I can only say, look:\nI cant give you a free pass to the promised land: I can\nonly say look: if you only look you will need no pass:\nO, why do you bury your face in the dust? get up: lift\nyourself high enough to look over your own head:\nEverything you love is yours."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c014", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c014", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "36", "page_fin": "47", "image_debut": 38, "image_fin": 49, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.14", "titre_corps": "YOU WRITERS", "titre_sommaire": "YOU WRITERS", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 38, "page_imprimee": "36", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.38", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1450, "texte": "YOU WRITERS\nYou writers who are trying to write. You ar-\ntists anywhere who are trying for art. You who\nmay be successful but have not arrived. You who\nhold yourselves in a class apart play the\ngame of temperament. You fools, liars, orna-\nmenters, hypocrites, prostitutes, of words. You\nwho wouldn't sell your bodies but who sell your\nsouls. You who have taken to the street for\nprofit. You who hunger for flattery and thirst\nfor fame. You betrayers of the people. You\nwho put words on yourselves as chains. You\nwho are goods to the highest bidder. All of you.\nI have something to say to you. You may have\nsaid it to yourself. But I'm going to say it any-\nhow. Both for your good and mine. Something\nserious. Something that goes to the root. I'll\ntalk right out. For somehow you who might be\nare not. You to whom a trust is given have be-\ntrayed it. I believe in the sac redness of the word.\nI want words to be gods, paradises, service. I\nwant words to live. I want words to be creators.\nSome writers are so vital they cant say and or\nthe or but without thrilling you. There are some\nwriters so dead they cant say immortality with-\nout a funeral. I want the living word. How\ncan I get it? By using words instead of being\nused by words. By speaking out of my heart\ninstead of out of books. By not trying to write.\nBy living. Some authors write as if they never\nhad been born. They say: I did my best. I say:\nBather your worst. When you talk to me face"}, {"page_pdf": 39, "page_imprimee": "37", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.39", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1569, "texte": "to face you are worth every minute. When you\ntalk to me on paper in a hook you are a waste\nof time. What happens to a man in the period\nbetween what he feels and what he does? What\ncatastrophe occurs? Why does he go to smash\nin the process? He is so alive in what he hu-\nmanly and so dead in what he professionally\nsays. What is the poison that comes between?\nMoney? Prestige? Or is it some false principle\nof art? Do your words, do your colors, do your\ntones, take you away from rather than towards\nyour inspiration? You try too hard. You\nshouldn't try at all. An artist's sketches are won-\nderful. His finished canvases are commonplace.\nHis sketches are impromptu. His paintings are\ndesigned. He did the sketches. The paintings\ndid him. He didn't try in the sketches. He was\nall try in the paintings. You writers who are\ntrying to write. Are you trying to live ? I admit\nyour display. I admit your phrases. But you?\nDo I admit you? Yes. But not the you you\nget into your books. My words belong where\nmy heart is. lam not willing to feel one thing\nand write another. Let me be the servant of mv\nemotions. Down below all my words is all my\nlife. Rooted in the soil. Established in the\nunalterable laws. Dedicated to the supreme in-\nferences. If my words dont say that they lie\nabout me. lam the fact the words are supposed\nto report. If they dont express me Igo unrep-\nresented. I dont try to be anything. I just let\nmyself be whatever results. It would be as bad\nfor me to force myself to be something as for me\nto force myself not to be something. There are"}, {"page_pdf": 40, "page_imprimee": "38", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.40", "debut_caractere": 14, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1583, "texte": "so many artists and there is so little art. There\nare so many writers and there is so little writing.\nThere is so much painting and there are so few\npictures. We are overclothed. Our wardrobe\nis rich. We are jeweled. We are placed on\nthrones. But what are we anyhow? We are\nhumbug kings. We are fraud citizens. What\nwe are not we are. What we are we are not.\nThe same thing which makes some men look for\nsocial prestige makes an author look for literary\nprestige. We give up the same things for it. We\nlie and duck and play sycophant for it. We fool\npeople. We make black white and white black.\nWe trifle away serious things. And we are seri-\nous over trifles. All for what? In order to ap-\npear to be what we are not. We are masquer-\naders. Words are the tools of our burglary.\nWords are the cant of our religion. Words are\nthe sophistry of our law. Words are the fog we\nlose our way in. We'd be safe if it wasn't for\nwords. Words are our peril. Words are the ob-\nstacles in the way. If you want to be under-\nstood dont talk. Whatever you have to say,\ndont trust it to words. Try not to try. Cut\nloose. Throw the reins on their necks. I see\nmany books. And yet there is only one book. I\nsee the broad highway and the countless journey-\ners. Where are they all going? The girl looks\nat herself in the glass. She wants to be pretty.\nA little paint and powder is added here and\nthere. A few words are added here and there.\nIt's all the same thing. You bribe, steal, seduce.\nYou make use of words not for the purpose of be-\ning true but for the purpose of being beautiful."}, {"page_pdf": 41, "page_imprimee": "39", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.41", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1597, "texte": "Show: that's what you want. Distinction: that's\nwhat you want. To he considered clever. To be\na best seller. To go into many editions. To be\ninvited to lecture in colleges. To be asked to\nwrite for the magazines. To be in demand. That's\nwhat you use words for. So as to be listed in\nthe literary four hundred. So as to be set apart\nsomehow. You want to be extraordinary. It has\ngot so the writer stands above and condescends.\nHe don't stand below and look up. He regards\nthe people as pawns. He'll use them in the game.\nBut he won't concede their equality. He plans\nfor so much a year. He figures at receptions.\nThe colleges give him titles. He dont want to\nbe average. He wants to be exceptional. So he\ntries to write. He gives his writing little pulls\nand twists so as to adjust it to the market. He\ntakes words off here and puts words on there be-\ncause he wants his disguise to be complete and\nimpressive. Go look at the books in libraries.\nThey are the endless roster of the dead. Most\nmen bury themselves in books. Only occasionally\ndoes a man resurrect himself in a book. He\nmakes his writing the parade. It marches with\nbrass bands. Everybody knows it's coming. And\neverybody knows of it after it's gone. But noth-\ning can make it live. Active as it seems to be\nit's still a burial. You who have tried so hard\nand have not succeeded may yet learn that he\nonly succeeds who dont try at all. When you\ntry—that means that you're up against it. When\nyou've got to engineer. When you've got to\nwatch your ps and qs. When you're afraid you'll\nnot know how to turn a sudden corner. Then"}, {"page_pdf": 42, "page_imprimee": "40", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.42", "debut_caractere": 14, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1537, "texte": "you're no use. Then you're firing in the air.\nYou're to discover how to win without caring\nwhether you win or lose. You're to find out that\nyou'll arrive without worrying over the process.\nHe is surest who dont ask for pledges. Words\nare a fatality. You writers who are trying to\nwrite.\nYou writers who are trying to write. You\nwho'd do anything rather than be thought of no\nimportance. You who'd murder the language or\nrape it or rob it or do anything to it rather than\nnot make your point. You: what have Ito say\nto you? Just what I have been saying. Go on\nwith your dance. Get what you can out of the\ndisgraceful scramble. Poke your heads into the\nslop trough. Let me paraphrase the man who\nadvised his boy to get money. Make books.\nHonestly if you can. But make books. Try\nfor points. If you cant make them on the square\nmake them on the foul. Try to write. Dont try\nto think. Dont try to love. Dont try to serve.\nTry to write. Get a reputaion. Never mind\nyour character. Do everything you can to con-\nvince everybody that you are what you know you\nare not. A man has to make a living. Therefore\nhe has to do what he has to do to get it. So you\nhave to be notorious. Therefore you have to do\nwhat you have to do to get notoriety. If you\nhave to murder your mother to get success mur-\nder your mother. What's one mother to one suc-\ncess? If you have to starve children in factories\nto get success starve children. What are a few\nchildren out of so many? You are the spokes-\nman of life and death. You can be hired for so"}, {"page_pdf": 43, "page_imprimee": "41", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.43", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1598, "texte": "much per to aid and abet the orthodoxies. Sell\nyour soul. What is one soul, even if it's your\nsoul, to one success? Your words. You can\nturn them into nugget values. You can set a\nhigh figure on them. And you can hypnotize\nthe purchaser. Not a word without pay. This\nis a world and a time of bargain and sale. Make\nthe world pay. Watch the market. See what it\nwants. Give it that. Try to conform. Try to\nwrite not your soul's words or your heart's words\nbut trade's words. Give the verbal stock market\nall the preferences. Everybody else sells what-\never he can. You have words. Words are vour\nt/\nonly treasure. Why shouldn't you sell words?\nAnd you will sell the words that are according to\nfashion not the words that are according to truth.\nJust as the rhyming lilting poets write the words\nnot of faith but of formula. If the issue is be-\ntween the rules and the exception the rule has to\ngo. Write book words. And write pretty words.\nEven if the ugly word says more than the pretty\nword choose the pretty word. Be an artist. Work\nfor the art result. Whatever you do, dont work\nfor the human result. Keep your eye on alpha-\nbets and words and sentences. Dont let your\neye wander off to life. If you give your spirit\nany liberties it's liable to play the bull in the\nchina shop and smash your fine wares into a\ntragic litter. You want to know whether I'd\nseriously advise such treason. I say yes. Why\nnot? You are an artist. You are not a man.\nYou want me to price you by art standards. You\ndont want me to price you by human standards.\nThe art standard might just as well be crooked as"}, {"page_pdf": 44, "page_imprimee": "42", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.44", "debut_caractere": 14, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1582, "texte": "straight. It might just as well be a whore as a\nwoman. It might just as well grovel and snuff\nand wallow as aspire and soar. The crook says:\nDont judge me by the human standards. He\nwants to be judged by the crook standards. And\nfrom the crook standards why shouldn't a crook\nbe a crook? The writer says: Dont judge me\nby the human standards. He wants to be judged\nby the writer standards. And from the writer\nstandard why shouldn't a writer be a writer?\nArtist or crook. Crook or artist. It's the same.\nPeople think it wrong to steal money. But they\ndont think it wrong to steal words. The only\nword that belongs to the writer is the word that\nbelongs where it's put. If it dont belong there\nthen it's stolen. It's far worse to play false with\nwords than to play false with money. Money?\nThe next dollar may purify the money account.\nWords? Words may be prostituted forever. But\ndont let that discourage you. Make good even\nif you have to make bad. I cant see any other\nway out for you. Let the worst in you do its\nbest for you. Dont be too squeamish. Remem-\nber that it's all dirty business anyway. Every\nstep you take is a surrender. Down, down, into\nbottomless confusions you sink yourself. You\nhaven't grown into art. You have built yourself\ninto art. You haven't written out of people and\nlife. You have written out of scholars and books.\nYou have committed in words all the felonies of\nthe calendar. But because they are words you\nhaven't felt guilty. You say: They are only\nwords. Why should a man be expected to be\nscrupulous with words? You might as well say"}, {"page_pdf": 45, "page_imprimee": "43", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.45", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1559, "texte": "of love: Love is only love. And you might as\nwell ask: Why should a man be expected to be\nscrupulous with love? If the right word pays\nuse it. But if it's more profitable to use the\nwrong word, use that. You express every hor-\nror of the white slave traffic. But what shall we\nsay of the word slave traffic? There are houses\nof bondage. And there are books of bondage.\nWriters say words. But only a writer rare among\nwriters says the word. Who is the criminal ? The\nman who steals goods or the man who violates a\nthought. What are you doing with words ? Giv-\ning them to life or giving them to death? Mak-\ning them counterfeit or keeping them genuine?\nNot trying to get life from words? But rather\ngiving life to words? You merchants in words.\nYou traders of dreams. You who are always try-\ning for art but who never try for love. You who\nalways estheticise with the elect but refuse to\nfraternize with the crowd. You who go the way\nthe wind blows. You who yield to art the trib-\nute of life instead of exacting for life the tribute\nof art. You who are the climbers. You who\nwould give up your souls for a phrase. You who\nwould rather write a pretty sentence. You who\nwould rather have a style. You who would\nrather be classified with the intellectuals. You\nwho whatever you are beg, borrow or steal your\nway into eminence. You distorters of scripture.\nYou criminals of words. You parricides of gos-\npels. You executioners of discovery. You smoth-\nerers of freedom. You writers who are trying to\nwrite.\nYou writers who are trying to write. Stop try-"}, {"page_pdf": 46, "page_imprimee": "44", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.46", "debut_caractere": 14, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1611, "texte": "ing to write. Then you can write. Live. Let\nthe writing take care of itself. Trust yourselves\nto moods. Trust yourselves to words. Trust\nyourselves to what may happen. Then something\nworth while will turn up. The man who argues\nabout his sins is sick. The artist who argues\nabout his technique is sick. That accounts for\nall the dead books. A man who's busy telling a\nstory is spending no time wondering how his Eng-\nlish is. I wouldn't advise you to study to be an\nartist? No. I'd rather have you study not to\nbe an artist. If you'll only let yourself alone\nyour art will come. And if you'll only let your\nart alone your life will come. In that perfect re-\nsult your spirit will triumph. But if you inter-\nfere with the fine balance either Avay you'll nul-\nlify the victory. Sometimes when I see all the\nliars of the world I wish all the books might\nhave remained unwritten. But sometimes when\nI read a great book I see how even all the little\nbooks are excused. The man who tries to live\ngenerally dies. But the man who is indifferent\nto life becomes immortal. The super man is the\nman who's superior to life or death. The super\nbook is the book that's superior to technique.\nThe super merchant is the merchant who's supe-\nrior to buying and selling. Super writing is the\nwriting that's superior to authorship. You are\nnot to be curious about writing. You are to just\nwrite. You are not to be curious about the re-\nward. You are to just take what comes. If\nyou're prosperous you're to ask: What's wrong\nwith me? And if you're a failure you're to ask:\nDo I deserve such honor? You are not to say:"}, {"page_pdf": 47, "page_imprimee": "45", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.47", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1633, "texte": "I'll put a book into my life. You're to say: I'll\nput a life into my book. You are not to produce\na work of art. You are to produce a work of life.\nYou may have to give up your best adjectives.\nOr maybe your largest nouns. Or maybe a virile\nverb or two. To get what? To get life. You've\ngot to give up everything to get life. The whole\nlanguage if necessary. The whole fabric of deli-\ncate grace. All the flowers of speech. All the\nrhymes and lilts. All the niceties of manner and\nthe assurances of routine. They must all go. All\neffort must go. You've not only got to be free of\nthe alphabet. And not only free of the traditions.\nAnd not only free of the cliques. But you've got\nto be free of effort. You've got to cease trying.\nYou've got to get where you have stopped caring\nor not caring. My call is for indifference. I say\nyou are not to go round humble about what you\ndont do and proud about what you do do. Life\ndont call for arguers and hairsplitters. Do what\nyou cant help doing. Refuse to do what you\ncan help doing. Ease up on your nerves and\nyour ambitions. Desire is richest in the absence\nof desire. A man's lungs dont ask any questions.\nThey just breathe. His feet walk. His eyes\nopen and shut. Shall a man's art do less ? Shall\nit consume itself in quibbles ? Shall it dress itself\naccording to the mode? Or shall it stay in rags?\nYou cant have both things. So which will you\nhave? You cant advance and retreat at the same\ntime. So which will you do? Can you imagine\nyourself neither alive nor dead? Can you see\nyourself neither anxious nor not anxious? Can\nyou conceive of yourself as staking all and stak-"}, {"page_pdf": 48, "page_imprimee": "46", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.48", "debut_caractere": 14, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1618, "texte": "ing nothing on the survival of a book? No man\ncan become an artist short of that. No artist can\nbecome a man short of that. Nirvana to tech-\nnique. Oblivion to rules and traditions. Let-\nting the soul retreat to nebula every time it\nwishes to advance to creation. Starting all over\nagain with every word. Making every word again\nthe first word. Are you to refrain from schem-\ning? Yes. You are to let the waters flow unto\ntheir normal levels. You are to let the law take\nits course. The law of words. The law of books.\n.\nA man may get into the way of looking too much\ninto himself. A book may have a man's fault. It\ntoo may brood too much. Most every book that\never tried to be a book has gone bankrupt. And\nmost every book that didn't worry whether it was\na book or not has won a place in the human cir-\ncle. It's an awful thing for a man to want to\nbe good. It's as awful as for a man to want to\nbe bad. It's an awful thing for a man's style to\nwant to be a book. It's as awful for a man's\nbook to want to be a style. It's terrible to want\nto be the worst man in the world. But it's far\nmore terrible to want to be the best man in the\nworld. You writers who try: you must keep on\ntrying till you get beyond trying. The man who\ntries: he may sell out: he may go into the market\nwith his equity. But the man who's got past try-\ning : he's unshakably defiant. You fraud rhymers.\nYou humbug versifiers. You dictionary hunters.\nYou users of crooked words for straight. You\nprofessors and poets. I call on you to stop try-\ning. I dont want to hear any more of your\nclaims. I only want to hear of your love. I"}, {"page_pdf": 49, "page_imprimee": "47", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.49", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 646, "texte": "dont want you to waste your time naming your-\nselves. I dont care what you are called. lam\nonly interested in what you are. You make me\nsick trying to be clever. Now make me well not\ntrying to be dull. I'm as tired seeing you try to\nwrite as I'd be seeing you trying not to write.\nI want you to quit. I want you to get where you\ncouldn't sell if there was a buyer and where no\none else could buy if there was a seller. I want\nto see you who have been in verbal bond set spirit\nfree. I want to see you who have given up all\nthe life you know for words willing to give up\nevery word you know for life. You writers who\nare trying to write."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c015", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c015", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "48", "page_fin": "48", "image_debut": 50, "image_fin": 50, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.15", "titre_corps": "Every seed counts in the harvest:", "titre_sommaire": "Every seed counts in the harvest:", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 50, "page_imprimee": "48", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.50", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 533, "texte": "Every seed counts in the harvest:\nIn the harvests of orchards and fields: in the harvests of\nbodies and souls:\nIn the harvests of the topless years: in the harvests of the\nbottomless spaces:\nIn the harvests of cruelty and war: in the harvests of fires\nand frosts:\nIn the harvests we win in our love: in the harvests we lose\nin our hate:\nIn the harvests that are swept into graves: in the harvests\nthat finish before they begin:\nThere is no better or worse in the harvests: all counts for\nall in all:\nEvery seed counts in the harvest."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c016", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c016", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "49", "page_fin": "58", "image_debut": 51, "image_fin": 60, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.16", "titre_corps": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED", "titre_sommaire": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 51, "page_imprimee": "49", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.51", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1442, "texte": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED\nAll the engineers perished. The ship went\nclown. Some were saved. Some were lost. The\nrich were mostly saved. The poor were mostly\nlost. But the engineers: they all drowned. They\nall stuck to their posts. Not one of them lived\nto tell how the rest died. They had no chance to\ntell the world about each other. How heroic they\nwere. How they nonchalantly smoked their pipes\nas they stood waist deep in water. How they\ncracked jokes to the last. They just stayed be-\nlow. They took their medicine. They may have\nsquealed. God knows. But they didn't run.\nThey kept the lights burning as long as their\nhearts kept beating. Who has told their story?\nLet me tell it. While you are busy with the\nsomebodies let me speak of the nobodies. While\nyou are celebrating the people with names let\nme celebrate the people who have no names.\nWhile you are trying to estimate how much\nmoney went down in the cabin let me try to\nfigure how much manhood went down in the en-\ngine room. While you are counting up the gods\nwho are not men let me count up the men who\nare gods. It may be easy to die with the band\nplaying and the world looking on. But to die in\nthe stillness with no one looking on may be a bit\nmore solemn. I'm not against dying. Hying\nhas its points. Dying may be the surest way\nto life. Nor am I against living. Living too has\nthings to be said for it. Living may be the no-\nblest way to death. But I want to say things"}, {"page_pdf": 52, "page_imprimee": "50", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.52", "debut_caractere": 28, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1614, "texte": "about these men and boys I never saw. I want\nto say things about all the men and boys I have\nnever seen. The world over, everywhere, yel-\nlow or black or white; the men and boys. I\nwant to call the attention of forgetful people to\nthe crowd. The crowd itself forgets the crowd.\nIt was sad to have the crew die. It was sad to\nhave the steerage bunch die locked in a hole.\nBut that wasn't half as sad as to have the crowd\non shore more curious about the millionaires who\ndied than about the paupers who died. I'm not\ndrawing lines on heroes. I'm not worrying about\nheroes anyway. I'm thinking of people. My\nheart is drawn to people. It dont hurt what they\nwear. Let them wear velvet or canvas. Do you\nsuppose I care whether they're bad or good?\nRich or poor, they're people. Every man be-\nlongs somewhere in the crowd. Do you suppose\nI care whether he's at the top or the bottom?\nWhen the boat went to pot people went with it.\nSome because they had to. Some because they\nchose to. I cant separate the heroes from the\ncowards. So I accept them all as people. When\nI read of the fifty engineers that perished I felt as\nif fifty gods had been snuffed out. People talk of\na man or two or of a few dozen men as if their\ndeath was only a soso bit of news. To me dying\nseems sense enough. I can see how we might get\nused to dying and enjoy it. But we shouldn't\nwaste people. Our civilization is jealous of prop-\nerty and prodigal of people. I cant see such\nwaste with equanimity. I want to save people.\nThere's such use for people. They are so pre-\ncious. They are our brothers. I want my broth-"}, {"page_pdf": 53, "page_imprimee": "51", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.53", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1577, "texte": "ers. I dont like you to drown them cruelly in\nthe sea. I dont want you to destroy them in\nrailroad disasters. I hate your wars. They rob\nme of my people. What do I care about your\nbalance in bank? One man's life is worth all\nbalances in bank. Even a mean man's life? Yes.\nAny man's life. I pass the derelicts on the street.\nThey are thrown aside. They have no right in\nthe stream. If they raise a protest they are\ncalled to order. The police tell them to move on.\nAnd the priests do too. And the statesmen. The\nstores and the factories say move on. There's no\nplace for them to rest. They're hounded across\nthe earth. So the engineers perished. No one\nsaid much about it. They took the engineers for\ngranted. Did they take anyone else for granted?\nThey always take the poor for granted. They\nexpect them to be heroes. And they expect them\nto die without a growl. If they growl they are\nin a panic. If they say: You die too, they are\nungrateful. If they refuse to die they are set\ndown for cowards. Or maybe killed. They do\ndie. They are sacrificed everywhere. They give\nup their lives for everybody and for each other.\nTrainmen. Sailors. Soldiers. Thev are all set\nup to be shot at or starved. The women who\nscrub the floors. The mothers who wrash our\nclothes. They die for us. These engineers died\nfor us. Fifty-three of them. Gods who kept a\nworld moving. Gods who stood by the law. La-\nborers keep our world going. They're always\ndying for us. Dying for everybody. With no\ndecoration. No medals or shoulder straps. Their\nnames dont get into the papers. They get no"}, {"page_pdf": 54, "page_imprimee": "52", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.54", "debut_caractere": 28, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1592, "texte": "hero badges. Poems are not written to them.\nNo one says: He died like a gentleman. No.\nLaborers are so busy dying like men they have\n110 time to die like gentlemen. They just get a\nlittle line or two when the time comes. All the\nengineers perished. That sort of a line. Just a\nstatistical record without adjectives. Just a\nfarewell without gunfire. Just a shrug of the\nshoulders. Three hundred nobodies were buried\nin a mine. Three hundred mere men. Three\nhundred dirty Italians perhaps. Three hundred\nnobodies the slaves of one somebody. Were they\nheroes? No one cares. No one even asks. The\nworld is not curious. They take care of the\nworld. Like the gods. They do everything. They\nare the providence of all alike loafers and work-\ners. But they remain anonymous. They live a\nlittle while and die for good. They are not names.\nThey are numbers. It's not John this or Stephen\nthat or William the other. It's twelve men. The\nstory dont list them. The story says: Twenty\ndied. The next day the story says: Two more\nhave died of their wounds. Nobodies. Died to\nsave you and me. And yet they are despised.\nNot buried in consecrated ground. Though con-\nsecrating the ground they are buried in. Or\nthe sea. The nondescript atoms of destiny. Lost\nin the cosmic shuffle. My brothers. My lovers.\nGiven to the sea when it was not hungry and\nasked nothing. My darling comrades. Stolen\nfrom me when I had a right to them. I tried not\nto see the big letters in the paper. But it was\ntoo plain to be avoided. All the gods of the ma-\nchine went down. All the engineers perished."}, {"page_pdf": 55, "page_imprimee": "53", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.55", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1560, "texte": "All the engineers perished. All the coal miners\nwere choked to death. All the children took sick\nin the factories. All the girls in stores fainted\nand had to he sent home. While you've been\nlooking for heroes I've been looking for women\nand men. Women and men are good enough for\nme. Being a man or a woman is far harder than\nbeing a hero. I can find you heroes but they are\ngrowing scarce. The heroes are not improving\nany. But the men and women are improving all\nthe time. The heroes are on top. They dance 011\nthe roofs of the world. But the men and women\nare the foundations. They are not heroes. They\nare men and women. When things happen they\nare of course scared. All brave people are scared\nin danger. Only the cowards have no fear. Only\nthe blind and deaf and loveless are heroes. A\nman has a right to be scared. And a woman.\nThat dont mean that they run or do anything\nshameful or ridiculous. It only means that they\nknow what they're up against. But they stay\nwhere they belong. They take care of things.\nOf this world. They remain in the shadows.\nWork on horror-struck in the darkness. Pace\ndeath trying to beg off in the dead of the night.\nThe men and women. Who are you who build\non men and women? Who put your palaces on\ntheir backs? Who make them carry your bur-\ndens? Who suck them dry? You are heroes.\nYou strut in spectacular places. You are heroes.\nBut you rob them while they sleep. You are\nheroes. But you hit them in the back. You are\nheroes. But you lock them in the steerage and\nlet them drown in a box. Yes, you lock them in"}, {"page_pdf": 56, "page_imprimee": "54", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.56", "debut_caractere": 28, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1588, "texte": "the steerage. You have made the labor world a\nsteerage. You have locked all the laborers in.\nThey live and die without hope. They are jailed\nin your profits. Your incomes turn the key in\nthe door. How can they get out? Your world\nis for the cabins. There are no boats for the\nsteerage. The boats are for those who live with-\nout working not for those who work without\nliving. No poor man has a right to live. Ex-\nisting should satisfy him. This is not a world\nof live and let live. It's a world of live and let\ndie. The heroes own the world that the people\nmake. It takes time to be a hero. People have\nno time. They must work. How could the\nheroes be heroes if the people stopped working?\nSo the people are not heroes. They're only men\nand women. They dont ornament the world.\nThey just feed it. They just nurse it along\nthrough its sicknesses. They just do everything.\nMen and women are the ground the heroes walk\nover. They are the treasure all the incomes are\ndrawn from. They are the ragtag and bobtail\nwho are everything and count for nothing. The\nheroes got the band playing. No band plays for\nmen and women. A princess in England had a\nbaby. Parliament was about to congratulate her.\nKeir Hardie said: Yes, do it. But he also said:\nLet's condole with the widows and childrens of\nthe miners who were blown to death to-day.\nHardie had no taste. They all told him so. The\npapers told him so. And the em pees. And the\npriests of the church. And scholars in colleges.\nThey agreed that Hardie had no sense of de-\ncorum. For they were congratulating a hero. A"}, {"page_pdf": 57, "page_imprimee": "55", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.57", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1544, "texte": "princess mother. But he was only condoling\nwith men and women. What do a hundred mere\nmen miners amount to compared with one titled\nbaby hero? This world is not made for men\nand women. It's made for heroes. It's true\nit's made by men and women. But that's no\nmatter. Making a world is one thing. I can see\nthat. Letting the fellow who didn't make it\npossess himself of it. Dont yon see that's an-\nother thing? Resisting his invasion would be\ntreason. Every man can see that too. Dont\nyon see it? If yon fight for what dont belong\nto yon you are a hero. If yon fight for what\ndoes belong to yon you are a coward. How could\na bricklayer be a hero? Why, the very word is\nagainst it. Bricklayer. How could such a word\ndescribe a hero? But gentleman. Ah! that's a\nword now. That's the real thing. It's natural\nfor a gentleman to be a hero. But no man could\naccomplish such a distinction. A man would first\nhave to become a gentleman before he could in\nturn become a hero. So the men have given it\nup. And the women. They take a back seat.\nThey retire before the grandeur of an impossible\nreputation. They just keep on doing what they\nhave always done. They keep on working and\ndying. They go down in ships. They starve.\nThey get maimed by machinery. They look\nheavy and stunned. They are stubborn. They\nmake good in their jobs. But they are never mis-\ntaken for heroes. No one points them out on\nthe street for heroes. They bob along like ordi-\nnary atoms. Like ordinary sunlight. Like ordi-\nnary air and water. They are not visited by the"}, {"page_pdf": 58, "page_imprimee": "56", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.58", "debut_caractere": 28, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1554, "texte": "great or asked to serve on committees. They\njust stay ordinary. They just remain like ordi-\nnary food and shelter. Like ordinary love and\nhate. Like ordinary gods. And after a while\nthey perish. They all perish. Like the engi-\nneers. Doing last what they did first. Keeping\ntheir appointments. They die ordinary just as\nthey lived ordinary. Not even aspiring to be\nheroes. Not referred to as honorable misses and\nmisters anybody at all. Not spoken of as though\na man or a woman was dead. Spoken of as if a\nnumber was wiped off the slate. These men and\nwomen who perish being only men and women.\nJust as the engineers who perished were only en-\ngineers.\nAll the engineers perished. Did you ever meet\na hero? I have met heroes. But they never wore\nmedals or labels. Did you ever meet a martyr\nwho was conscious of martyrdom? I have met\nmartyrs. But they never knew who they were.\nAnd I never told them. Heroes dont hunt for\nyou. You have to hunt for them. The hero is\nnot the sun. The hero is an atom in the sun. If\nlight was conscious of being light it would cease\nto be light. I know countless heroes. But they\nnever say anything about heroism. Life is not\nheroism. Life is life. One man has more life\nthan another man. He is not better than other\nmen. He is only more alive. He weighs more.\nHe looks farther. But he is no hero. A man is\naffronted if you call him a hero. He would rather\njust be a man. I think of a certain man. He was\nnonchalantly the most effective man I ever met.\nWas he a hero? He never went anywhere the-"}, {"page_pdf": 59, "page_imprimee": "57", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.59", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1612, "texte": "atrically to do anything. He just stayed where\nhe was and acted his part. The engineers just\nstayed where they were and acted their part. As\nthe simplest workman does. As the scavengers\ndo. Just acted their part. Can a god do more?\nShould a man do less? I don't say there are no\nheroes. I say they are countless. You see the\nhero in the exception. I see the hero in the rule.\nMy hero never flourishes a whip. I see him serv-\ning. Let my hero stop serving and he abdicates.\nDont believe anything the hero tells you about\nhimself. Sure things dont insist on their reality.\nEvery man has his place. Do you call a man a\nhero for staying in his place? If I heard anybody\ncall me a hero I'd begin to suspect myself. I'd\ntake my size and shape over again. I'd go forty\ndays into the wilderness. I'd bury myself in the\nslums. I'd want to get away. To be where I'd\nescape the measurer. I see the heroes every-\nwhere. But I see no hero. I see people in their\nplaces everywhere. Often most beautifully in hid-\neous places. Often most hideously in beautiful\nplaces. Like the engineers they all serve. Like\nthe engineers they will all finally perish. Like\nthe engineers they will all reappear somewhere\nagain. Heroes? The heroes work underground\nand overhead unheralded and unseen. The he-\nroes make our shoes. They work in the trenches.\nThey nurse babies. They take care of the world.\nThey make it dirty. And they clean it up. They\nare its crowd. They are the mobs. They are\nthe herd. They are the mass. They are all\nalways called by all names but their real names.\nThev are called dangerous. But if it was not for"}, {"page_pdf": 60, "page_imprimee": "58", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.60", "debut_caractere": 28, "fin_caractere_exclue": 748, "texte": "them nobody would be safe. They are called ugly.\nBut if it was not for them nobody would be grace-\nful. They are called stupid. But if it was not\nfor them nobody would be enlightened. They\nare the eclipsed, the obscured, the submerged.\nBut if it was not for them nobody would be a\ngenius. And you sometimes speak of them as\ncowards. But if it was not for them nobody\nwould be brave. You repeat it often enough as\na matter of course that if it was not for the light\nthere would be no shadow. Let me say it once\nfor all the other way. That if it was not for the\nshadow there would be no light. I'm glad. I\nlook everywhere. I discover no hero. I look\neverywhere. I never fail to discover heroes. All\nthe engineers perished."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c017", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c017", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "59", "page_fin": "59", "image_debut": 61, "image_fin": 61, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.17", "titre_corps": "I dont know what it is: I dont know where it leads me: I", "titre_sommaire": "I dont know what it is: I dont know where it leads me: I", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 61, "page_imprimee": "59", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.61", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 403, "texte": "I dont know what it is: I dont know where it leads me: I\ngo on and on:\nWhether along the common road or into the wilderness, I\nfollow: I go on and on:\nThe days are as mysterious as the nights: and the years:\nthey baffle me: I go on and on:\nSomething persuades me: something I like the feel of: it is\nveiled but sure: I go on and on:\nI dont know what it is: I dont know where it leads me:\nI go on and on."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c018", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c018", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "60", "page_fin": "68", "image_debut": 62, "image_fin": 70, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.18", "titre_corps": "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?", "titre_sommaire": "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 62, "page_imprimee": "60", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.62", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1446, "texte": "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?\nWhat are you doing for the cause? Not for\nyourself. For all. Not to keep yourself going.\nTo keep the race going. What are you doing\nfor to-morrow that you didn't do yesterday for\nto-day? I dont say for what cause. I say for\nany cause. I dont ask you what you are doing\nwith tasks I might set you. I ask what you are\ndoing with tasks that you yourself set. I know\nwhat you do in eating and working at your trade\nand sleeping at night. You do that in order not\nto die. Everybody does that. I ask you what\nyou are doing in order to live. I know what you\nsay. I read what you write. I have heard your\npromises. But this is not enough. This hardly\ntells me what I want to learn. I know what vou\ndo with what you have to do. I want to know\nwhat you do with what you dont have to do. I\ncan see how your pay may make you think. I\nwant to know how you make your pay think. In\nshort, I know what you do as a slave. What I\nwant to find out is what you do as a master. Did\nI say master? Yes. Master of yourself. I never\nfeel like accusing anybody. Like sitting in judg-\nment on anybody. Down in my heart I acknowl-\nedge the last compassion. Rather anything than\nthat I should forget your priority. Every man\nsomehow belongs first to himself. Do I say that?\nYes. Then I say something more. He also be-\nlongs first to the race. He stands for person-\nality. There he's for himself. He stands for\nservice and progress. There he stands for the"}, {"page_pdf": 63, "page_imprimee": "61", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.63", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1582, "texte": "race. I cant interpret his moods or his impulses.\nI can guess them. But their interior purport is\nbeyond the reach of my vision. That is why I\nask: What are you doing for the cause? And\nthat is why I say: I shall not say what cause.\nThe cause has done everything for you. What\nare you doing for it? In all the past it has been\ndoing something for you. Now you have come.\nYou have inherited its accumulations. What are\nyou doing for it? I hear you say you dont see\nwhat you've got to be thankful for. I dont\ncharge you with ingratitude. I only ask whether\nyou are grateful. I dont even say you should do\nanything for the cause. I only remind you of\nwhat the cause has done for you. I dont ask you\nwhether you have done your duty. I only ask\nyou whether you feel that you have a duty. I'm\nnot presenting a bill to you. I only ask whether\nyou owe a bill. The cause has run an account\nwith you. Do you run an account with the\ncause? Again you ask: What cause? And\nagain I say: I wont name the cause. That which\nis the holy of holies to you. That is your cause.\nThat which you say must come before what you\nput into your belly and on your back. That\nis your cause. That wThich demands sacrifice.\nThat which insists upon its initial sanctity. That\nwhich persuades you more than anything else.\nThat is the cause. I dont suggest the cause to\nyou. You suggest it to me. Therefore I have\nthe right to ask you that question which your own\nconfession leads up to. You dont have to answer\nto me for it. You have to answer to your life for\nit. There's no appeal from the cause. It's the"}, {"page_pdf": 64, "page_imprimee": "62", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.64", "debut_caractere": 21, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1592, "texte": "last court. It says the closing word. What can\nyou say when you have defaulted? When you\nhave done nothing for the cause? When you\nhave simply existed and not lived? No man\nowes anything to a world to which he cant feel\nrelated. If you are an alien. If you are a cos-\nmic vagrant. If you are lost. If you think of\nyourself as debris. Then you are not respon-\nsible. Then I dont wonder that you deny your\nheritage. But if in any rapt moment of inspi-\nration you but once catch the face between the\nclouds you are from that time the servant of the\neternal. Then there's no excuse for pettifogging.\nThen you can no longer disavow your responsi-\nbility. What are you doing for the cause? For\nthe beyond? For the next step? Are you giv-\ning up anything for it? Or are you asking it to\ngive up something for you? Do you pray to it for\nfavors? Do you want cash down? Or are you\nwilling your grandchildren should collect? Do\nyou sell the cause like you sell goods? And\nif it's profitable do you bless it? And if it's\nprofitless do you curse it? When I ask: What\nhave you done for the cause? I dont refer to\nanything that you've had visible pay for. I refer\nto something that there'll never be any visible\npay for. The cause is always in the darkness\nahead. It's always the path unbroken. It's al-\nways the rough of fate. It's always the veil. Al-\nways the curtain. Always the shrouding mys-\ntery. Do you serve it for pay or work for it with\nlove? Do you want to get life from it or do you\ngive life to get it? One man says God. Another\nman says Cause. Any name might be any other"}, {"page_pdf": 65, "page_imprimee": "63", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.65", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1559, "texte": "name so it means the same thing. When I see\nwhat you do or dont do I know whether you are\nonly a border on the earth or whether the earth\nis your home. I know whether you are a brother\namong comrades op a chance acquaintance among\nenemies. What are you doing for the cause?\nYou are doing nothing for the cause. You are\nmaking a living. But you are not making life.\nYou are personal. You have not surcharged\nyourself with the general inspirations. Your mo-\ntive is profit not service. You want to get ahead\nno matter how. You dont want to stay behind\n110 matter why. Let anybody suffer. You mean\nto rejoice. You dont make way for the world.\nThe world makes way for you. Service is not\nmaster. Profit is master. Downing someone\nelse. Making good because someone else makes\nbad. That is your code. Staying alive no mat-\nter who goes dead. Sponging on life. Loafing\non others. Taking anything you can any way\nyou can get it. Accepting none of the odium of\nthe cause. Shrinking from anathema. Avoiding\nunpopular opinions. Letting anyone do the work\nof progress. You doing nothing. That's the\ncode. Others queer themselves for an idea. Do\nyou? Anything but that. You pat them on the\nback. But you sneak the price. You encourage\nthem to go on. But you dont go on with them.\nYou scab on the revolution. They put up their\nlives. You put up nothing. They die that you\nmay live. You live that they may die. It's bad\nenough to scab on the body. But it's infinitely\nworse to scab on the soul. You are strike break-\ners. You undersell. Just as you undertalk. Just"}, {"page_pdf": 66, "page_imprimee": "64", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.66", "debut_caractere": 21, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1583, "texte": "as you underspend. Just as you underact. You\nhear the cause defamed and say nothing. When\nthe battle is 011 you are nowhere to be found.\nYou dont even carry water. You scab on your\nbrother. You scab on your age. You are the\nrevolutionist gone to wood. There's no flower\non your stem. You let the others do the fight-\ning. But you claim your share of the spoils.\nYou say: These theories will be all right some\ntime. But that some time will never be your\ntime. My ears know your voice. I can tell\nwhen you are around though you say nothing.\nLittle as you know it, I follow you through all\nthe intricacies of your psychic retreats. Do you\nthink you can cover your tracks? Right or left,\nup or down, in or out, across or around: wherever\nyou go I tally you. Every step you take is within\nmy horizon. Do you resent my inevitable attend-\nance? You say: I mean the same thing you do.\nAnd you say: I am with you, only not so fast.\nYou say: You can count on me, too, but not too\nsoon. You say: You can depend upon my good\nwill, but not too far. You've alwavs some reason\nfor holding back. Some reason for not putting\nup money or service. Some reason for withhold-\ning your confession. Somebody is always too\nviolent for you. Too extreme. Too exacting.\nToo inevitable. You want at the same time to\nbe and not to be. You let other men queer\nthemselves for you. You see them lose their\nreputations. You know they put their livings in\nthe scale for the cause. But vou dont raise a\nPJ\nfinger to help them. You hug your poor life as\nif it was rich. You husband your prostituted"}, {"page_pdf": 67, "page_imprimee": "65", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.67", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1537, "texte": "treasure as if it was righteous. You let them\nwork for all while you work for yourself. You\nare the master scab. You are the scab left over\nafter all the other scabs have been beaten. And\nyou not only scab on your contemporaries. You\nscab on your grandchildren. You scab on the\nfuture. You are sold out. You are pinkertoned.\nYou have betrayed the crowd. You are one thing\nwhen you think and another thing when you\nlive. You are one thing in what the world knows\nyou for and another thing in what you know\nyourself for. You are the shot from the rear.\nOur enemies challenge us face to face. But you\nknife us in the dark. You are the margin of\nfaithless revolution. You are the interior force\nwhich flings us into the clutches of reaction. I\nmeet you every day I live. You pat me 011 the\nback. You congratulate me. You do everything\nbut avow me. You are half a revolutionist minus\na whole revolutionist. You dont scab the labor\nmarket. You scab civilization. You scab the\narmy on the march. You create the panic of\nbattle. You put the poison in the soup. You\ntake all and give nothing. You beg what you\ncant borrow. You borrow what you dont want\nto steal. You steal what you dont mean to work\nfor. You are the scab of the revolution. You\ndo nothing for the cause.\nWhat are you doing for the cause? You do\neverything for the cause. You work for the\ncause as the sun sheds light. You dont hunt\nplaces in which to hide yourself away. You hunt\nthe open and there face the world. You dont\nwait to hear someone else say the word first."}, {"page_pdf": 68, "page_imprimee": "66", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.68", "debut_caractere": 21, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1593, "texte": "You say it. You dont ask anybody to try the\nwater to see if it's cold. You try it. And you\ndont care if it is cold. You're as ready to spend\nyour last as your first cent. Some people are al-\nways wondering what other people will give\nthem. Some people are always wondering what\nthey'll give other people. But the lover dont ar-\ngue about himself. He loves. Nor do givers ar-\ngue about themselves. They give. They are niag-\naras of benefaction. They dont know it them-\nselves. They have to be reminded of it. Noth-\ning so surprises a great man as the idea that he\namounts to anything. Nothing so startles the\ngenerous man as the idea that he is liberal.\nNothing seems so impossible to the hero as the\nidea that he is courageous. My heart has 110\nshall lor shall I not. lam not allowed to play\nany yes and no game with myself. Listen to\nwhat I say. Down in me where I'm deepest\nthere's no hissing snake's-nest of alternatives.\nRun your knives clear through me and I wouldn't\ndo but the one thing. Every drop of my blood\nflows the one way. Down over that steep cliff\ngoes all my love, which is all my life. I never\nspend a minute trying to find out what my duty\nis. There is no duty. I'm just driven. There\nis no duty. I just keep on. When I say cause\nI say sun and stars and earth and air and food.\nI say love and those I love. I say that which\nmakes life amd is made by life. If I hesitated an\ninstant there would be no cause again. There\nwould be only empty space and hourless time.\nIf I drew back one inch order would revert to\nchaos. That which is not worth all is worth"}, {"page_pdf": 69, "page_imprimee": "67", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.69", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1644, "texte": "nothing. If I said I'll see I'd he lost. If the\ntides said they'd see. If the storm said it'd see.\nIf yesterday said to to-morrow that it'd see. If\nbirth said to being born that it'd see. If dying\nsaid to death it'd see. If Etna's fires said they'd\nsee. If the ices of the north said they'd see. If\na fragment of an atom said it'd see. It'd be the\nsame as if I'd say I'll see when my name is called.\nIf I left it to my purse to see. If I left it to my\nproperties to see. If I left it to my prospects or\nmy privileges to see. Then I'd not see at all.\nI'd be stone blind. If I said that the cry of the\nscab is the voice of God. If I said that the cho-\nrus of the dollars is the psalm of paradise. If I\nsaid that the prayer of apology is the savior of\nsouls. Then I'd not hear at all. I'd be stone\ndeaf. What are you doing for the cause? Do I\nwant you to be a fool for the cause? Yes. That's\nthe only way you can be wise for yourself. Do I\nwant you to give up facts for dreams? Yes.\nThat's the only way you can turn dreams into\nfacts. Do I want you to give everything to the\npoor? Yes. That's the only way you can be-\ncome rich to the crowd. I dont want vou to put\nyour hand into your pocket and take it out empty.\nI dont want you to put thought into your brain\nand take it out empty. I dont want you to put\nlove ino your heart and take it out empty. I\ndon't want you to say to the cause: I'll think it\ndont want you to say to the cause: I'll think it\nout over night. I dont want you to say: I may\nhelp some but dont expect too much of me. I\ndont want you to say: I'll ask my wife or my hus-\nband or my father or my mother or somebody. I"}, {"page_pdf": 70, "page_imprimee": "68", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.70", "debut_caractere": 21, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1096, "texte": "dont even want you to ask your own spirit. I\nwant you to act. I want you to answer before\nthe question is put. I want you to spring before\nthe challenge is issued. I want you to warm up\nbefore the fire is lit. Do I want you to go out\ncold nights when you might stay home and be\ncomfortable? Yes. More than that. Do I want\nyou to take your fortune in your hands and go do\nsomething impossible? Yes. More than that.\nDo I want you to choose misery maybe in place\nof joy? Yes. More than that. Do I want you\nto stake your life on the issue? Yes. More than\nthat. I want you to do more than all that. I\nwant you to do more than debate and quarrel and\nwonder and waver even if you decide right in the\nend. I want you to go 011 as if you had nothing to\ndo with proceeding: I want you to surrender as\nif you had nothing to do with yielding. I dont\nwant you to wait till you are called. I want you\nto call. Whenever anything goes short: I want\nyou to step into the gap. I dont want you to\nask: How can I? I want you to say: I couldn't\ndo anything else. What are you doing for the\ncause?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c019", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c019", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "69", "page_fin": "69", "image_debut": 71, "image_fin": 71, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.19", "titre_corps": "They talk about the rock of ages: there is no rock of ages:", "titre_sommaire": "They talk about the rock of ages: there is no rock of ages:", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 71, "page_imprimee": "69", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.71", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 381, "texte": "They talk about the rock of ages: there is no rock of ages:\nthere are only the people:\nIf I build on the people I build true for always: if I build\non myself I build on the shifting sand:\nThere is no rock of ages: there is only the human heart:\nthere is only love:\nIf I build on the heart, on love, I build for always: if I build\non the body, on hate, I build on the shifting sand."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c020", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c020", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "70", "page_fin": "77", "image_debut": 72, "image_fin": 79, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.20", "titre_corps": "I CLAIM EVERYTHING", "titre_sommaire": "I CLAIM EVERYTHING", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 72, "page_imprimee": "70", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.72", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1459, "texte": "I CLAIM EVERYTHING\nI claim everything for the people. And every-\nthing is not too much. The individual has got\nto learn to say: lam the people. And the people\nhave got to learn to say: We are the individual.\nEverything springs from the people. Everything\ngoes back to the people. I'm not interested in\nsuns. I'm interested in people. Mountains and\nmoons and trees have no meaning to me until\nthey are peopled. Your philosophies and dreams\nare insignificant till they are peopled. I know\nnothing hut people. I comprehend nothing but\npeople. If you sing a song I hear people in it.\nIf you paint a picture I see people in it. If I\ndidn't hear the people or see the people I might\nas well be deaf and blind. If you tell me there\nare so many rivers in a country or so many acres\nof ground and ask me: What do you think of\nthat? I say: I dont think of that: I only think\nof people. If you name the great men to me and\nask: What do you make of them? I answer: I\nmake nothing of them: I make everything of the\npeople. If you ask rne: What do you read in the\nbook? I reply: I read the people in the book.\nlam at home where people are. lam alien where\npeople are not. There's no use trying to get me\nto approve of anything that dont include the\npeople. That which dont include the people is\nempty. Just as a man's heart if it does not\ninclude the people is void. I am drunk with\nthe crowd. lam bathed in the mass. I give my-\nself to the common stream. I dont want to be"}, {"page_pdf": 73, "page_imprimee": "71", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.73", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1579, "texte": "found somewhere off alone. I want to be lost\nsomewhere off alone. I want to be lost some-\nwhere in the crowd. I never feel so pinioned as\nwhen I'm alone. I never feel so free as when\nI'm in the crowd. The crowd is my father and\nmother. My eyes are not enthralled by sunsets\nand seastorms. I want people: only people. Let\nme have people and I'm happy. Deny me people\nand I'm defeated. Rich as a man's soul may\nbe in its own right a man's soul is incomputably\nricher in the people's right. Every time I wander\nfrom the people I feel as if I am choosing a\nvacuum for my inheritance. Dont you see how\nit is? I draw all my checks on the people. My\npersonal signature is not valid. I have no account\nwith myself. I can never overdraw my account\nwith the people. You say: God said: Let there\nbe light. I say: The people say: Let there be\nlight. You talk about inferior people and supe-\nrior people. I see no superior people and no in-\nferior people. I see only people. When I say\npeople I dont say good and bad. No: nor ge-\nniuses nor fools. No: nor the saved and the\ndamned. No. When I say people I only mean\npeople. I dont mean whites or blacks or Hindus\nor Americans. I mean people. If I say that the\nworld belongs to people I don't mean a few own-\ning for all or all owning for a few but all owning\nfor all. If I say the people are divine I dont\nmean divine people. No. I only mean people.\nThe people are divine but there are no divine\npeople. So when I say I claim everything for\nthe people I dont mean everything with excep-\ntions. I mean everything without exception. I"}, {"page_pdf": 74, "page_imprimee": "72", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.74", "debut_caractere": 21, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1592, "texte": "dont owe the good people as separated from the\nbad people. I owe both. And I owe the bad\npeople more than I owe the good people. For\nthe good people have been good for themselves.\nAnd the bad people have been bad for me. I\nclaim everything for the people because the peo-\nple are everything. I make no claims for the\ngreen grass and earthquakes and shipwrecks and\narts and the will of the majority. Such inci-\ndents are secondary. My claims are all for the\npeople. After you give me the people I have\neverything else. But if yon refuse me the people\nthen I have nothing at all. If your theories dont\ngive me the people. Or your governments. Or\nyour sciences. Or your vast cities. Or anything\nyou build or pride yourselves upon. If they dont\ngive me the people they are a fraud against which\nI revolt. But if they give me the people then I\nreturn you a receipt in full. I want people. I'm\nwilling to go without anything. Without what\nyou poorly call riches. Without what you weakly\ncall power. Without what you obscurely call\ndistinction. I'm willing to go without all that if\nyou'll only give me people. Any people. The\nrough and tumble average. The nonchalant\nnon-elect. The noisy quiet brutal kind crowd.\nThough I am dashed to death against its rocky\nshores I surrender myself without equivocation\nto the furious sea. Everything is not too much.\nI claim everything for the people.\nYou claim nothing for the people. Nothing is\nnot too little for the people. You lock your doors\nto keep the people out. You lock your heart to\nkeep yourself in. You say dollars. I say peo-"}, {"page_pdf": 75, "page_imprimee": "73", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.75", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1579, "texte": "pie. Yon say kings and Presidents. I say peo-\nple. Yon say the scnlptnre of Greece, the paint-\nings of Italy, the mnsic of Germany. I say peo-\nple. Yon say: Bnt for them. I say: But for\nthese. Yon point ont a few figures lost in the\ndistance. I direct you to the crowd at your el-\nbow. Yon say one and another. Yon say some-\nbody. I say all. Yon say fame. Intermediaries.\nMiddlemen. Interpreters. I say people. Yon\nare eminent for a while by reason of what yon\ntake. But I say no one can be eminent for good\nexcept by reason of what he gives. Yon think\nthe people need saviors. I say the saviors need\npeople. The people make money for you. You\nspend money for the people. The people make so\nthat you may have. Yon dont make so that peo-\nple may have. Yon give me leaders. I give you\npeople. You say the leaders lead. I say the\nleaders follow. That the people lead. Leaders\nwould be useless without people. People would\nstill be people without leaders. You say brain\nshould be paid extra. I say nothing should be\npaid extra. That pay should not be for talent but\nfor need. What a man needs. That should be\nhis pay. What a man contains. That should be\nwhat he gives. A witty man said: The more I\nsee of men the more I think of dogs. I will say\nthat in another way. The more I see of those\nyou call the somebodies the more I think of those\nyou call the nobodies. We live in an age of\nsaviors. lam looking for an age of people. The\nsaviors are multitudinous. The priest takes your\nsoul. He's going to save your soul. The pluto-\ncrat takes your body. He's going to save your"}, {"page_pdf": 76, "page_imprimee": "74", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.76", "debut_caractere": 22, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1582, "texte": "body. You see, they're going to save you by\ndestroying you not by fortifying you. So they\nseize the pictures to save art. And the operas\nand symphonies to save music. You are to be\nsaved by being denied everything. If they gave\nyou anything you'd be lost. They are safe from\nluxury no matter how much they have. You are\nin peril of luxury no matter how little you have.\nThey fool you with their paraphernalia. You\nare awed not by their brains but by what they\ntell you of their brains. You take their word\nfor it. You should take your life for it. You\nare willing they should enjoy for you. Should\ntravel for you. Should eat and drink for you.\nShould play games for you. What have you for\nyourself? Resignation. Remember that text\nwhich has been immemorially the solace of the\nrobber. The poor you have with you always. You\nmust have the poor with you always because you\nmust have the rich with you always. Who would\nsave the poor if the rich didn't ? And if the poor\nwere not saved what would become of the rich?\nThe great you have with you always. You must\nhave the little with you always because you must\nhave the big with you always. It wouldn't do\nto wipe out the distinctions. To fill in the gap.\nThat chasm is kept impassable by the hand of\nprovidence. You cant live for yourselves.\nSomeone must live for you. You cant live for\nyourself. You who dig in ditches. You who\nwork in mills. Harry Thaw must live for you.\nYou who eat at lunch counters. You cant live\nfor yourself. The fellow who dines at the St.\nRegis: he must live for you. Every time you try"}, {"page_pdf": 77, "page_imprimee": "75", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.77", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1633, "texte": "to live for yourself some savior interferes to live\nfor you. You've got to keep yourself thin to keep\nhim fat. There's no other way to sustain the\ndelicate balances of destiny. The church will live\nfor your soul. The state will live for your body.\nYou find all the saviors waiting to live for you.\nInsisting on living for you. Refusing to let you\nlive for yourself. Taxing you to death to crown\nthemselves for life. You have thought of the\nsaviors dying that you might live. Think again.\nAnd you will see yourself dying that the saviors\nmay live. My life is the people's life. Ino more\ndie for the people than the people die for me.\nLook the saviors straight in the face. Defy them.\nRefute them by an appeal to your own treasure.\nEvery time by an appeal to your own treasure.\nEvery time you save yourself you destroy a sa-\nvior. Do you want to be saved by another?\nBetter be damned by yourself than saved by an-\nother. What is the price of salvation? Your\nbody and soul are the price. You are to give up\neverything. That is the price. Not give up every-\nthing to all. No. That would be a fair price.\nGive up everything to the saviors. That is the\nprice. That is the pirate fee. What is the price\nof salvation? Your alleys and gutters and pros-\ntitutes and factories and premature death are\nthe price. At every doorway stands a savior.\nHe charges you for going in. He charges you for\ncoming out. Profit is a savior. You pay its toll.\nRent is a savior. You pay its toll. Interest is a\nsavior. You pay its toll. What is left after you\nhave settled with the saviors? The saviors are\nleft. But nothing is left of you. Nothing is"}, {"page_pdf": 78, "page_imprimee": "76", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.78", "debut_caractere": 21, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1605, "texte": "not too little for the saviors. You claim nothing\nfor the people.\nI claim everything for the people. And every-\nthing is not too much. What do the people claim\nfor themselves? So far they have claimed little.\nThey have let the saviors give them religions.\nThey have let the saviors give them economics.\nThey have stood aside to let the saviors pass.\nInstead of making the saviors stand aside to let\nthe people pass. The saviors have given them re-\nligions which were blasphemies. The saviors\nhave given them economies which were robberies.\nThe saviors have been. The people are to be. The\npeople are next. Now the people will give the sa-\nviors religions which are reverent. And they will\ngive the saviors economies which are justice. The\nsaviors used to succeed. Now you may notice\nthat the saviors fail. The saviors only succeed\nwhen the people fail. When the people succeed\nthe saviors fail. Saviors belong with kings and\nowners and bosses. When the people at last ob-\nject to being ruled or owned or bossed the saviors\nwill disappear with the saved. The mendicant\nand the millionaire are symptoms of the same dis-\nease. The savior and the saved are symptoms of\nthe same disease. The superior person and the\ninferior person are symptoms of the same dis-\nease. The capitalist and the laborer are symp-\ntoms of the same disease. They require only one\ntreatment. You cant get one without the other.\nYou cant ride yourself of one without the other.\nThe people dont need saviors because they dont\nneed to be saved. You cant save people for the\nsame reason that you cant damn people. The"}, {"page_pdf": 79, "page_imprimee": "77", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.79", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1236, "texte": "people are people. That's the answer to all the\nsaviors. The people are themselves enough an-\nswer. People intoxicate me. My eyes see peo-\nple. (I dont acknowledge things.) Look for,\nfind, abandon themselves, to people. Dont ac-\nknowledge saviors. Reach out to, are reached\nout from, people. Everywhere I meet the threat-\nening saviors. Do you shrink in the mire till\nyou can borrow wings to take you to heaven?\nI know the black in the people. But the black\nin the people is not the people. Even the white\nin the people is not the people. The hate or\nlove in a man is not the man. The man is the\nman. The people are the people. It's stupid to\nsay that. It's like saying a cloud is a cloud. It's\nlike saying a star is a star. But what else can be\nsaid? Time and space are time and space. Can\nyou damn or save time and space? The people\nare the people. Can you damn or save the peo-\nple? You might as well tax the skies as tax a\nman. As well assume to save the sun for pay as\nsave the people for pay. As well pretend to\nbe the necessary middleman between Jupiter and\nthe moon as between people and pople. I make\nthe whole claim because I have the whole faith.\nAnd everything is not too much. I claim every-\nthing for the people."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c021", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c021", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "78", "page_fin": "78", "image_debut": 80, "image_fin": 80, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.21", "titre_corps": "I see what you see all around: the half lives lived: the", "titre_sommaire": "I see what you see all around: the half lives lived: the", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 80, "page_imprimee": "78", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.80", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 667, "texte": "I see what you see all around: the half lives lived: the\ncruel quarrels of brothers:\nI see what you see: haven't I lived where the fight is thickest?\nBut I would have no hope of peace if I could not say: I\nguess it's all about love:\nJust as a man with a woman and their child are just about\nlove:\nJust as passion is just about love and consecration is just\nabout love:\nJust so the brute is just about love and the man into whom\nhe emerges is just about love:\nI would miss the main point if I missed that: if I could\nsee hell and not see heaven, I would miss the main point:\nI guess it's all about love: I dont know what it's all about\nbut I guess it's all about love."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c022", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c022", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "79", "page_fin": "88", "image_debut": 81, "image_fin": 90, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.22", "titre_corps": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED", "titre_sommaire": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 81, "page_imprimee": "79", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.81", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1451, "texte": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED\nTo leave no door unopened. To pass freely\nin and out. To leave no heart unopened. To\nleave no life unopened. To get everything be-\ntween out of the way. To make it possible for\ndesire to reach across the gap. That is your\nbusiness and mine. That is what we owe our-\nselves and each other. To make light of bound-\nary lines. To efface barriers. To abolish toll-\ngates. All civilization is the opening of doors.\nAll art is the opening of doors. And science.\nIt, too, is the opening of doors. We have been\nout of sight of each other. Too many of us sit in\nperpetual executive session. Most of us exclude.\nWe dont include. We close ourselves in some-\nwhere. We look down and up but we dont look\nface to face. Not because we dont trust others.\nRather because we dont trust ourselves. We\nthink the trouble is with them. The trouble is\nwith us. We withdraw. We get away. Crawl\ninto holes. Into incomes and fames. Crawl into\nthem and draw the covers over. We dont wel-\ncome life. We shrink from it. We never keep\nopen house. We live in prisons and we are our\nown jailers. We are not trying to live as big\nas we can but as little as we can. What are we\nafter? You: what are you after? And I: what\nam I after? I say we must step out and around\nand over and under and across. We must do all\nwe can to discredit what holds us down and keeps\nus in. It is not life but death for us to shrink\nfrom the alternatives of liberty. I give a free"}, {"page_pdf": 82, "page_imprimee": "80", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.82", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1654, "texte": "pass to the universe. For day and night. For\nalways. For the suns and stars to walk in any\ntime. For the seasons to come and go as they\nchoose. That is, I declare myself wide open. I\ntake all the shutters down. I put all the doors\nback on their hinges as far as they will go. I\nthrow all keys away. Then I invite the world in.\nI say to the world: Possess yourself of me. 1\nsay to the world: I dont want to deny you\nanything. I want the world to take me at my\nword. And you, my brother: I want you to take\nme at my word. If life is a monastery then I\nchoose death. If life is asceticism then I choose\ndeath. If life is classes and superiors and own-\ners then I choose death. If life is a stockade.\nIf life is the sacrifice of all to a few. If life is\nbeing blind and deaf and dumb. If life is living\nback of a high wall. If life is this sort of thing\nthen I choose death. The path of life is not to\nthe grave but to the cradle. The signal, the sym-\nbol, of life is not division but unitv. What is the\n7 »/\nuse of living if you cant be alive? Why should\nI hide in a hole when I should be a rover ? Why\nshould I keep myself out of the main currents of\nexperience? Man from the start has been break-\ning loose from the drag of the dust. He has\nsometimes resorted to violent means to his end.\nHe has dashed thrones to the earth and killed\ntyrants. He has gone to war. He has robbed\nhis neighbor. He has so far not called his brother\nby his right name. He has lived inside himself.\nBut that's only half a life. You live a whole life\nonly when you live inside others as well as inside\nyourself. But with all his pausings and writhings"}, {"page_pdf": 83, "page_imprimee": "81", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.83", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1615, "texte": "he lias helped himself along towards deliverance.\nFor there is only one deliverance. The deliver-\nance of a man to his brother. The unimpeded\napproach of one man to another. All time, all\nspace, are for that. That is what time and space\nare. That is what civilization is. Getting ac-\nquainted. That is civilization. Mercilessly wip-\ning out the last atom between. So that there is\nnot only nothing to climb over but nothing to\nstumble over in passing to and fro. That is what\nit was and is and must hereafter all be for. Life.\nArt. Everything. It must all be for that. To\nget armies and navies and properties from be-\ntween. If it was not all for that then it would all\nbe for nothing. If it left that unachieved then it\nwould leave life unachieved. If it is right for any-\nthing to remain between then I see no reason why\neverything you please should not remain between.\nDo you see a door anywhere? Throw it open\nwide. Do you see an interfering income or am-\nbition anywhere? Throw it open wide. I do\nnot say: Be gentle in doing it. I say: Throw it\nopen: dont wait a minute: throw it open.\nTo leave no door unopened. Is there any short\ncut from a man to himself ? Every time you shut\na door you shut it on yourself. When you close\none out you are one time shut in. When you\nclose the people out you are millions of times shut\nin. You cant shut out without shutting in.\nEvery dollar you lay away against others is laid\naway against yourself. The barrier you set up\nagainst the world. It's as hard for you to get\nover it as for the world to get over it. It's like\nhating somebody. You may do him some harm."}, {"page_pdf": 84, "page_imprimee": "82", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.84", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1594, "texte": "But you do yourself worse harm. Your hate\ncould not stick to him. But it sticks to you. The\nhater always wears the scars of hate. You cant\nhave yourself unless you have others. The pen-\nalty of being exclusive is exclusion. You feed\nonly one light. If you put that light out for me\nyou put it out for yourself. I know you think\nyou can go it alone. But you cant. You may\nstand very firm. But you are 011 the common\nground. There is no other ground. You may\nbreathe in the air off your housetop. But you\nbreathe the common air. There is no other air.\nNothing will work if it is set up to separate indi-\nviduals or peoples. It may last for awhile. But\nit cant be perpetuated. That which is not rooted\nin the people cannot survive in the person. You\ncant alienate your life. You can kill yourself.\nBut you cant alienate yourself. You may do it\nthrough an income. You may do it through an\nart. You may do it through ambition. It makes\nno difference how. But you are from then on\ndead. You may still hang around. But you are\ndead. For no man can live only in his own few\nfeet and pounds of mortal flesh. He needs a\nworld to live in. To live in a world means to\nlive the life of that world. Not monkeyishly.\nNot as a slave. No. But within the horizon of\nits ideals and sympathies. Living the world's\nlife in your own way. Giving the world's life\nyour identity. But living it. Not trying to\nbreak with it. Not using property or fame or\nanything as a pretext for isolation. Our insti-\ntutions and systems are arbitrary checks put\nupon the spirit. Even seats of learning. Even"}, {"page_pdf": 85, "page_imprimee": "83", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.85", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1620, "texte": "exhibitions of pictures. The artist is used as a\ncheck upon art. That is, upon life. He is put\nin the way instead of leading the way. You cant\nsteer a world into your back yard. But you can\nsteer your back yard into a world. You say man\ncant live by bread alone. No. He cant. He\nmust live by love. He cant live in himself alone.\nHe can only live in the crowd. How can you\npass from yourself to yourself again? With all\nthe money between. With the power between.\nWith the pride between. With the ambition be-\ntween. How can you? How can you hope to\nlive a true life in such a false relation? How\ncan you expect to lead a seeing life in such a blind\ncontingency? You are all closed out as well as\nclosed in. It cant matter which side of the door\nyou are on. It is equally fatal either side of that\ndoor. Worse, if worse either side, on the inside\nthan the outside. It is better to be closed out\nthan to close out. It is better to be a pauper out-\nside than a millionaire inside. I would rather die\nin the life of the crowd than live in the death of\nmyself. You are in on the ground floor. The\nground floor is hell. I)out you feel the flames\nlick and bite at you? I cant put anything be-\ntween myself and others. It is perfidy. It is as\nif I sold the people out. Any personal wish.\nAny individual instinct. Anything. Any inter-\nrupting item however innocent is a crime. That\nis why our proud profits are ignoble. That is\nwhy the professional successes are cluttering de-\nbris. That is why nothing but absolute abandon\nwill signify in the last count. We dont want to\nbe hid away in holes. Our fortunes hide us away"}, {"page_pdf": 86, "page_imprimee": "84", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.86", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1651, "texte": "in holes. Our eminences hide ns away. Get-\nting ahead of competitors hides lis away. I get a\nlittle more money than the next man. Then I\nhide away from him. Then I hide him away\nfrom me. A private victory is not integration.\nIt is dissolution. Social wealth stands for the\nopen door. Personal acquisition stands for the\nfrowning wall. I indict the systems because they\ndrive men apart. Every institution created for a\ncaste sits with closed doors. It thinks itself the\ncustodian of a treasure. It is only the trustee of\nan assumption. For it always closes out in-\nfinitely more than it closes in. I indict the sys-\ntems because they close their creators in. Be-\ncause they make themselves useless. Because\nthey are arrayed against the mob. There's only\none good side to the mob. That's the inside. The\nmob. All. There's only one good side to it.\nNothing is so little as a big thing in a jail. Noth-\ning is so big as a little thing free out of doors.\nOur civilization is a big thing. But it's in jail.\nWe've got to get it out of doors. That is, you've\nput our civilization in vaults and used it for the\nfew against the crowd. We've got to level the\nvaults. We've got to get our civilization out of\ndoors. We've got to hand it around. Open all\nthe doors. Let everybody in. Yes, even the dere-\nlicts. Hand civilization around. Let everybody\nhelp himself. That's crazy? So it is. But noth-\ning in this world ever got its growth till it was\ncrazy. No man ever did anything to push things\nalong beyond till he began to be called a fool and\na suspect and was avoided by his friends. Throw\neverything wide open. Dont worry about the"}, {"page_pdf": 87, "page_imprimee": "85", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.87", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1563, "texte": "weather. The weather with love in it wont hurt\nwhatever it is. Your job, my job, is this: To\nleave no door unopened.\nTo leave no door unopened. Do you know\nwhat that means? It means to leave no heart\nunopened. To leave no income unopened. To\nleave no book or picture or song unopened. It\nis a challenge. Yon are to trust yourself to love\nnot to a lock. You are to trust yourself to people\nnot to yourself. You are to trust yourself to the\nwhole not to a part. You will no longer trust\nyourself to your dollars. Yrou will no longer\nfasten yourself in. You will no longer worry\nto-night wondering about to-morrow morning or\nworry to-morrow morning wondering about sun-\ndown. You have great evidences. The vast\nproperties. The cities and the farms. The rail-\nroads and the telegraphs. The sure and the coun-\nterfeit. They are immense. They cant be count-\ned up. But there are better evidences. You dont\nquote them. You sneer at them or you pass them\nby. The people. They are better evidences.\nThe love of the people. The idealism of the\npeople. The revolt of the people. They are\nbetter evidences. After all your buildings are\nset on the ground. Yrour riches are hidden dead\nin vaults. But the people are vital and flowing.\nPeople make houses. But have houses ever made\npeople? I have seen houses so large they became\naware of their littleness. I have seen people so\nmodest they became aware of their immeasurabil-\nity. We have made our towns ruthless. They\nare not fit to live in. We expect people to live in\nthem without love. We can live nowhere without"}, {"page_pdf": 88, "page_imprimee": "86", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.88", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1605, "texte": "love. It may be necessary to sweep half our world\naway in the interest of the other half. It may be\nnecessary to stampede all values. To abrogate\nall treaties. To repeal all laws. To annul all\nrespectabilities. All in the interest of life. We\nhave to open all doors. No plea can resist this\npurpose. As sure as the sun comes up this will\ncome up. You have planned your world. But\nyou have left love out. You want everything\nprotected. Especially property. Property. I\nsay take all your protectives off property. I say\nput all your protectives on people. If no one\nowns no one will steal. If all own all will be fed.\nEvery time you write a deed a door is closed.\nEvery time you repudiate possession a door is\nopened. If you take down your shutters you\nwill find it is day. Matters have gone on farther\nthan you suppose. Farther towards love. Give\nthem a show. Forget that you are a proprietor\nand remember that you are a man. Forget that\nyou own anything and remember that you are\nsomething. I dont advise you to destroy your\nproperties. I only say: Take your name off\nthem. How much better it looks not to be a\nboss or a superior. How much more like open-\ning doors. How much more like fraternity. We\ncant have a world of brothers as long as any door\nis closed any where against any body. Nor while\nany piece of land or goods or any power of man's\narms or brains is closed against any body. This\nhas got to be made a wide open world. I dont\ncare where profits go. Nor where privileges.\nNor what becomes of the elect. Nor whether\nanyone ever paints a picture again or preaches of"}, {"page_pdf": 89, "page_imprimee": "87", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.89", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1587, "texte": "beauty. I dont care. lam first of all interested\nin men and women. I want to know first of all\nwbat becomes of men and women. If men and\nwomen get what belongs to them the graces will\ntake care of themselves. But if the ornaments\nare put first then they are discredited and must\nbe dethroned. What we will do with the esthetic\nwill depend first and last of all upon what we do\nwith men and women. I want every door opened\nas far as it will go. And every heart. And every\nfortune. And every opportunity. And every\nvista. I dont want anybody standing anywhere\nasking anyone: Where's your ticket? As if the\nsun before shining should ask: Where's your\nticket? Or the air we breathe: Where's your\nticket? All have made what the few have. Yet\nthe few ask: Where's your ticket? As if love\nshould ask: Where's your ticket? There is no\nticket. There is the open way. There is no\nticket. There is the eager willing impulse. There\nis no ticket. There is the unhesitating sacrifice\nand consecration. There is no ticket. There are\nonly fields on which we share the harvest. There\nis no ticket. There is the commune. There is no\nticket. There are only people. When you push\nthrough no one asks: Where are you going ?\nEverybody says: Walk right in. When you\nlook for what you want 110 one asks: Will you\npay cash down for it or shall I charge it ? Every-\none says: Help yourself. You say: People never\nwill work in your world. I say: People who get\ntoo little so hard will not stop work because they\nare to get enough so easy. Everywhere we go\nnow everything is closed and everybody is asked:"}, {"page_pdf": 90, "page_imprimee": "88", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.90", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 329, "texte": "Where's your ticket? Everywhere we go then\neverything will be wide open and everybody will\nbe told: Make vourself at home. We are to\n•/\ncontinue on and on till the last outcast becomes\nthe first citizen. Till this generation of exiles\nbecomes the next generation of comrades. To\nleave no door unopened."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c023", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c023", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "89", "page_fin": "89", "image_debut": 91, "image_fin": 91, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.23", "titre_corps": "When you hear of a ship going down at sea do you say:", "titre_sommaire": "When you hear of a ship going down at sea do you say:", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 91, "page_imprimee": "89", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.91", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 935, "texte": "When you hear of a ship going down at sea do you say:\nThat is the conclusion?\nWhen you see one man do a mean thing to another man do\nyou say: That is the conclusion?\nWhen you see systems substituted for souls do you say:\nThat is the conclusion?\nI love the people: I never see the enemy of the people as\nthe conclusion:\nThere is something more to come: after the shadow light is\nto come:\nWhen you fall down, when you are only half a man, I say\nthere is something more to come:\nWhy, dear comrade—after half a man a whole man is to\ncome: out of you, too, is to come:\nFor the conclusion of a man is only in the perfection of a\nman: nothing else is a conclusion:\nFor the conclusion of sex is only in the perfection of sex:\nnothing else is a conclusion:\nAnd you may be sure that after all the black has come that\ncan come white will follow:\nAnd you may be sure that after all the journeys down hill\nyou will find your way to the crest again."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c024", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c024", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "90", "page_fin": "99", "image_debut": 92, "image_fin": 101, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.24", "titre_corps": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL?", "titre_sommaire": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL?", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 92, "page_imprimee": "90", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.92", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1446, "texte": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL?\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? And what\nhave you sold your body for? Have you given\naway what you are for what you can get? Have\nyou traded off your body for your soul or your\nsoul for your body? Or have you gone on taking\nboth with you on equal terms? You may think\nyou have profited when you have lost. You may\nbelieve you are a victor when you are defeated. I\nhave no quarrel with the earth. But dirt can\nnever take the place of a man. Yor can a man's\nliving ever take the place of a man's life. What\na man does may be succcessful. And what a man\nis may be a failure. Any one thing in the place\nof any other thing is a failure. If we want a man\ngoods wont do. If we want love money wont\ndo. If we want faith comfort wont do. If we\nwant beauty falsehood wont do. You are all\ntalking about making your way. Making your\nway to what? It all depends on that. To what?\nA man may make his way. He, may cut a tre-\nmendous figure. He may outpace everyone and\ninvite envy and admiration. He may do all that\nand still be dead. And then he may do all that\nis the opposite of that. He may be the most la-\nmented man in his crowd. He may do and be\nall that and still be alive. It's always harder to\nknow what to do with too much than with too\nlittle. I readily get used to reverses. But I can\nnever quite accommodate myself to a triumph.\nWhen things go against me I always have myself\nleft in my own favor. But when things go for"}, {"page_pdf": 93, "page_imprimee": "91", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.93", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1604, "texte": "me I always have myself asking me questions I\ncant answer. My body and my soul are im-\nperative. I cant make light of their demands.\nLet me sell them out: then what happens ? Dirt\nbegets dirt. Reach outside yourself for some-\nthing that is only to be found inside yourself:\nthen what happens? Every grain of sand that\ngets where it dont belong interrupts the revolu-\ntion of the planets. Down the sunbeam dances\nthe anarchic atom. Have you sold your soul for\ndirt? Sold your soul for something not itself?\nSold your soul to the alien? Ido not accuse you.\nI ask you a question. Ido not say you do wrong.\nI ask you why you do not do right. Ido not say\nyou are outside the fold. I invite you inside the\nfold. I have no wish to make you a good man or\na bad man. I want you to come into what\nyou were born for. I want you to step out of the\nway of the universe and to step into the way of\nyourself. Do not confuse my values. lam no\ndespiser of the body. lam no enemy of markets.\nYou may sell your soul for dirt. Sell sermons as\neasily as sell goods. I see the best in the house of\nMan and the worst in the house of God. Ido not\ncharge. I persuade. I build no fires to burn any-\nbody up. I only build fires to light the way.\nHave you betrayed yourself with thirty pieces of\nsilver? Have you sold yourself? Have you per-\nmitted yourself to be sold? Are you exposed for\nsale on the bargain counters? You are con-\nsigned to yourself in trust. Have you betrayed\nyour trust? The world is consigned to itself in\ntrust. Has it betrayed its trust? Have you sold\nyour soul for dirt? You may have bought souls."}, {"page_pdf": 94, "page_imprimee": "92", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.94", "debut_caractere": 26, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1595, "texte": "That means that you have sold your soul for dirt.\nYou have no right to buy or sell. As long as\nbuying and selling lasts you cant help selling\nyour soul for dirt. Nothing can purify the way\nas long as one man exacts toll of another man.\nEverything should be everywhere. Everybody\nshould help himself. We live in the age of bought\nand sold. We are about to pass into the age of\nhelp yourself. I ask you who walk the streets:\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? I ask the\nworld of all which includes the world of one:\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? Have you sold\nyour soul for manners, forms, titles, incomes,\nprestige, position? for anything you put into\nyour belly or on your back? for anything which\nmakes you superior to anybody else? for anything\nwhich puts the way you do a thing above what\nyou are doing? for anything in laws or economics\nor books or arts which serves as a weapon with\nwhich to club the innocent? for anything over\nground or under, any sneaking device of profit,\nwhich subjects others to your advancement?\nHave you sold your soul for dirt?\nYou have sold your soul for dirt. You have\nconformed. You have said one and two make\nfour after all the rest. You suspected that one\nand two make three. But you did not like to\nsay so. You have obeyed the thing around you\nrather than the thing in you. Votes, interests,\nprofits, privileges, stand for you in place of the\nsoul. You surrender to a job. You are enslaved\nto something that was made yesterday. You\nhave sold your soul for dirt. You can only buy it\nback with soul. The time will come when we will"}, {"page_pdf": 95, "page_imprimee": "93", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.95", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1603, "texte": "sell our dirt for soul. I know what it means to\ntry that now. It means poverty and banishment.\nThe devil take the hindmost, they say. The devil\nwill. Or the god will. When you see all the poor.\nWhen you see all those who rob and are robbed.\nWhen you see the devastation the profit system\nleaves in its wake. When you see all the confu-\nsions of sex. When you see prostitution. Then\nyou know that something has been sold for dirt.\nWhat has been sold. Our civilization. You and\nI. The man you sell has not been sold. The\nman who sells has been sold. The victim of per\ncents has not been sold. The victor has been\nsold. The hand that draws the knife is the mur-\ndered as well as the murderer. Your genius may\nbe your dirt. The thing you do best. The posses-\nsion you are most proud of. The public applause.\nYour friends. Your family. Your heredity.\nThey may be your dirt. Even if you sell your-\nself for your best loved you sell yourself for\ndirt. Love can do no harm. But lovers may sell\nlove for dirt. Anything that's in the way of\nthe spirit is dirt. You make goods. But if your\ngoods are slave goods they are dirt. You have\nno right to make your talent a club with which to\nbatter down the inefficient. You say every man\nshould be paid according to his talent. I say\nthat's exactly what they should not be paid ac-\ncording to. A man's talent may be his best weap-\non of injustice. Talent is the coward's weapon.\nYou may be born a king. You may be born a\ngenius. It's as bad to use a crown of brains as\nto use a crown of gold to exploit the humble.\nUsing what you were born with to such an end"}, {"page_pdf": 96, "page_imprimee": "94", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.96", "debut_caractere": 26, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1590, "texte": "is the final cowardice. We use laws. We use\nforms. We use social position. Anything within\nreach. It's the blow in the dark. It's the lie\non the lip. It's the giant taking advantage of\nthe pigmy. You see a little farther. That is\nyour dirt. Your arm is a little longer. You hear\na little more. You move a little quicker. That\nis your dirt. All the inequities come by such a\nroute. All the gloating palaces and the snarling\nhuts. All the laughing luxuries and the weep-\ning wants. They come by that route. My best\nsuit of clothes. It comes that way. Less and\nmore comes by that process. Do you pride your-\nself on your faculty? Rather do anything else.\nEven your faculty may be a tyrant toll-gatherer.\nDown every mountain steep tumble your horri-\nfied inferiors. Time and space recognize no\nlarge and small, no above and below, no served\nand servant. A man has a little better or a\nlittle worse thinking machine. But better or\nworse are not to time and space what they are\nto words. Evil begins when man begins. Tyr-\nanny begins when one man has mpre heartbeats\nthan another man. When dirt gets on top.\nBrains are a whip. You use that whip over\nothers. You make that whip into statutes, man-\ndates, wage-scales. You make everything else\nsecond to it. You may have got so far that you\nare horrified when a man makes a dollar an\nagent of oppression. You have still to go on till\nyou are horrified when a man makes Ms talent an\nagent of oppression. The king sits on a throne.\nThe picture hangs in the gallery. The book is\non the shelf of the library. The music is sung"}, {"page_pdf": 97, "page_imprimee": "95", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.97", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1579, "texte": "in the great hall. The play goes on In the the-\nater. The game is won or lost in the vast stadi-\num. Do they circumscribe ns? Or do they\nfree lis? Are they burdens to carry? Or are\nthey wings to fly with? Are they for the pleas-\nure of a few? Or are they for the joy of all?\nMoney may free. Brains may enslave. Money\nmay be the gentle savior. Brains may be the\nbrutal damner of bodies and souls. You have\nsold your soul for dirt if you have used it for\nthe production of anything but soul. Whether in\nthe market or in the academy. Whether in play\nor work. Whether in the midst of your family\nor abroad in the crowd. You have sold your soul\nfor dirt. Whether in making money or staying\npoor. Whether in the most exquisite beauty of\nan art or the most hideous ugliness of a brothel.\nYou have sold your soul for dirt. Babies at the\nbreasts of mothers are sold for dirt. Fathers\nwho have cared for children are sold for dirt.\nPoems, laces, anything, may be sold for dirt.\nAnything that gets in the way of life. That is\nsold for dirt. Religion, churches, policies of\nstates and industries, are sold for dirt. Sex.\nIdealism. The marriage bed. Dreams. They\nare sold for dirt. Souls are the dearest things\nin a cheap world. The house you live in. The\ncup of water you hand to the famished. Bene-\nfaction. Hospitals for disease. The very kind-\nnesses of social rectitude. The excuse-mes and\nthank-yous of the polite and the amiable. The\nbowings and scrapings of parlors. They are sold\nfor dirt. Nothing can pay for souls but souls.\nBut you take dirt in pay for souls. Every time"}, {"page_pdf": 98, "page_imprimee": "96", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.98", "debut_caractere": 26, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1556, "texte": "you get in the way of life you accept dirt as a\nsettlement for souls. The nights of dalliance.\nThe hours of love. The perfumed bower. The\ngroves of arcadian ecstasy. They are sold for\ndirt. All. All. You have sold your soul for\ndirt.\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? Have you\ngiven up that which is priceless for a price?\nHave you ripped off your wings and asked:\nWhat's the use of flying? Have you postponed\nnext year? Have you said: I'd like to be myself\nbut cant? Or have you said: It's all very well to\ntalk? Have you always been putting yourself off?\nSaying: To-morrow will do for me? That to-\nmorrow after all the to-morrows that never\ncomes? Have you planned to sell your body for\nfifty years and then live beyond bargain and sale?\nOr your soul? The cry comes to you out of your\nown deeps. It wears no disguise. It's you your-\nself asking questions of yourself. Have you sold\nyour soul for dirt? In every act of injustice you\nsell yourself. When you turn your back on some\nbody. When you steal a man's wages and call it\nprofit. When you make it harder for some one\nto live in order to make it easier for yourself to\nlive. When you call white black and up down.\nWhen you become respectable at some one else's\nexpense. When you put the show of good man-\nners above the fact of bad heart. Then vou have\nsold yourself for dirt. When you corner any-\nthing. Even virtue. When you corner pictures\nor books or curios. When you corner ideas.\nWhen you jealously corner your dreams. When\nyou eat too much while others eat too little."}, {"page_pdf": 99, "page_imprimee": "97", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.99", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1585, "texte": "When you dedicate any of the sources of life\nto anything hut the common privilege. Then\nyou have sold your soul for dirt. If your lovt\nstops with your family. If you can love your\nown children and not love the children of others.\nIf you hog anything in flesh or spirit. You have\nsold your soul for dirt. You have called upon all\nmen to listen. You are for sale. Come here.\nListen. Here's a man for sale. What will you\ngive for him? He is for sale cheap. For he can\nbe paid for in the basest coin. He can be bought\nfor the dirt under your bootsole. You can buy\nhim for a house or bonds or goods in a store or\nthings made in a factory. You can buy him for a\ncrop off a farm. You can buy him for the clothes\nlie wears and the food he puts into his belly. He\nought to be dear beyond anyone's ability to buy\nhim. But almost anybody can buy him. He puts\nsuch a mean price on himself. He will bargain\nhimself off for almost anything that will furnish\nhis keep. Have you met that man? Do you\nknow his name? Can you give me his initials?\nDoes he live round the corner? Or maybe in\nyour own house? Or do you wake up nights\nand say to yourself: He's in this bed? Maybe\nyou tell me he's as good as he can be under the\ncircumstances. I dont see why any man should\nexpect to be a man under the circumstances.\nLight is not darkness under the circumstances.\nDeath is not life under the circumstances. Right\nis not wrong under the circumstances. Every\nman has to adjust the circumstances to himself.\nDont tell me a man always has to adjust him-\nself to the circumstances. A man's circumstance"}, {"page_pdf": 100, "page_imprimee": "98", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.100", "debut_caractere": 26, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1680, "texte": "is Ms dirt. lam too familiar with your underly-\ning assets to assent to this overlying result. Do\nI expect you to fight? Am I asking too much?\nYes, fight. No: lam only asking enough. I see\nnothing preposterous in asking a man to be what\nhe is. In asking beauty to be beautiful. In ask-\ning a song to sing. In asking gentleness to be\ngentle. In asking generosity to give. In asking\nthe cloud to rain. In asking water to run down\nhill. In asking the fulfilment of life. What do\nI ask you for? For the fulfilment of life—that's\nall. I decline to call your wars and your ex-\nploitations and your greeds the fulfilment of life.\nThey are rather the fulfilment of death. I decline\nto call the barbarism we call civilization the ful-\nfilment of life. I decline to call the love we call\nmarriage the fulfilment of life. I decline to call\nthe pride we call art. Or the austerity we call\nscience. Or the hypocrisy we call religion. I\ndecline to call them the fulfilment of life. They\nare the fulfilment of death. I decline to call the\nhells the fulfilment of life. The hells of theology.\nThe hells of profit and loss. The hells of owners\nand owned. The hells of poor and rich. The\nhells of those who have everything and those who\nhave nothing. The hells of those who make every-\nthing the writ of the tax gatherer. I decline to\ncall them the fulfilment of life. They are the\nfulfilment of death. I acknowledge your institu-\ntions. Ido not dismiss property. I put dreams\nand people above all the lauded majesty of learn-\ning and possessions. No man is so little but his\nhead is higher than your Oxfords and Harvards.\nNo man is so degraded but he outshines the luster"}, {"page_pdf": 101, "page_imprimee": "99", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.101", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1248, "texte": "of bonds and trade. You say a man must make\na living. I say no. That is already made for\nhim here or somewhere. What a man must make\nis life. To make a living leaves us dirt still. To\nmake life gives us wings. We want everybody\nto get out of the way of life. The world. The\ncrowd. You. I. We must get out of the way\nof life. If the superman gets in the way of the\nunderm an he is in the way of life. He has sold\nhis soul for dirt. Would I destroy civilization?\nYes—if I could help civilization by doing so.\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? Have you\ntraded down instead of up? lam pulling down\nthe monuments. The great men. The masters.\nThe leaders and superiors. The geniuses and the\nmarvels. I shake them down in a common ruin.\nIn order to rebuild greatness. In order to bring\nout of all what so far has been all brought out\nof some. I turn all values upside down. I turn\nall ideals and instrumentalities upside down.\nIn order that man may come up. Now man is\nbelow all the rest. Then all the rest will be\nbelow man. Now the soul is the means and what\nit produces the end. Then what is produced will\nbe the means. The soul will be the end. I would\ndemolish everything if necessary to save every-\nthing. Have you sold your soul for dirt?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c025", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c025", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "100", "page_fin": "100", "image_debut": 102, "image_fin": 102, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.25", "titre_corps": "And then I hear your voice raised above all the uncertainties", "titre_sommaire": "And then I hear your voice raised above all the uncertainties", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 102, "page_imprimee": "100", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.102", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 594, "texte": "And then I hear your voice raised above all the uncertainties\nof itself: your voice: it sings:\nComrades: we must hold together: if we let go of each\nother for an instant the stars will drop out of the sky,\nThe power of the heart is resistless if it lifts with an infinite\nhope,\nThe power of the eye is unmeasured if it looks with endless\nexpectation:\nAnd then I hear your voice offer everything, withdraw nothing:\nfor cause or not for cause:\nYou do not question us: you love us: you do not doubt us:\nyou love us:\nYou do not bring scales to see what we weigh: you bring\nlove to see what we live."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c026", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c026", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "101", "page_fin": "109", "image_debut": 103, "image_fin": 111, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.26", "titre_corps": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES", "titre_sommaire": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 103, "page_imprimee": "101", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.103", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1455, "texte": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES\nWhen I look into the faces of men and women.\nWhen I go to men and women without distrust.\nWhen I put men and women before goods. When\nI even put them before their passions. Even put\nthem before their parts. The whole before its\nparts. When Ido this I find myself somehow at\nonce in touch with men and women. Ino longer\nmake too much or too little of their good and bad.\nIno longer pause with ephemeral details. Ino\nlonger miss seeing man in observing men. I\n110 longer go grieved to my work. My feet are\nlighter. My heart is gay. My brain is cleared\nfrom all eclipses. My dreams become possible.\nMy insanest rhapsodies are understood. To go\namong men and women as one of them instead of\nabove or below them. To know people for com-\nrades. To see no one so mean he could not be a\nbrother. To see no one so great he could with-\ndraw from communion. To fraternize on an\nequality without question with the crowd. To\nask no questions. To go without question. To\npass among men and women for one who loves.\nThrowing off all veils. Going without disguises.\nWithout disguises of virtue as well as disguises\nof clothes. To meet their suspicion with faith.\nNot to be turned against men by the injustice of\nmen. Here I stand. No man triumphs in being\nloved. We only triumph in loving. Nor in be-\ning believed in. We only triumph in believing.\nAnd if 1 acquiesce in men and women I will ac-\nquiesce in them even in the face of truth. I will"}, {"page_pdf": 104, "page_imprimee": "102", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.104", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1601, "texte": "say yes wlien you accuse them hut I will continue\nto love them. I will not deny the facts. But I\nwill live above the facts. I will not say there is\nno dirt. But I will sav there is more than dirt.\noJ\nIdo not need figures for my affirmation. I only\nneed men and women. Clean and corrupt men\nand women. Strong and frail men and women.\nI know all that is said about the evasions of hu-\nman nature. And I acknowledge the defaults of\nhuman nature. It makes its fathomless descents.\nBut I see no fall from which it cant lift itself vic-\ntoriously. lam not afraid of the impenetrable\nnights. For there was daylight before and there\nwill be daylight again and the darkness itself is\ncreated by a sunbeam. When I look at a man\nand a woman I see what is back of them and I\nsee what is ahead. lam not thrown off the scent\nof glory by the trail of a serpent. lam not wor-\nried by the treacheries of the flesh. I do not\nspend time trying to disprove the shadows. I\nonly insist upon the light. lam always aware of\nthe crowd. I am aware of one only because 1\nam aware of all. I always come back to myself\nenriched. If I feel out of touch with myself I\nget in touch with the crowd. That keys me right\nagain. The harmonies are restored. The men\nand women on the streets. They do not even\nlook at me. Yet lam full of them and they are\nfull of me. They are not aunts and uncles and\ncousins and fathers and mothers. They are the\ngodstuff out of which the death and resurrection\nof the stars is effected. Thev are unmakers and\nmakers. They are the dinned and they are di-\nviners. If I know men and women I do not"}, {"page_pdf": 105, "page_imprimee": "103", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.105", "debut_caractere": 29, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1619, "texte": "need gods. If I know gods Ido need men and\nwomen. I say to every man or woman I pass:\nYon are my other self. For I know that nothing\ncould tear us apart. I know that you can no\nmore separate men from each other, or women, or\nwomen from men, than you can take an atom off\nthe crust of the earth and toss it into nothing-\nness. And so I love to go among men and wo-\nmen. Love to throw myself upon the convincing\nmercies of my anonymous pilgrimage. Choosing\nnot to figure up my totals in so many enemies and\nso many friends but in so many brothers. In the\nlast calculations refusing to calculate. Casting\nmyself into the sea and taking my chances. Into\nthe seething whirling surging reluctant hospit-\nable mass. Preferring sin with all than virtue\nalone. Not always being pleased but always be-\ning loyal. Sure in the end that I could go no-\nwhere ruling others out of heaven. Sure in the\nend that I am entitled to nothing which the\ncrowd does not confer. So that when I meet you\nwhoever you are I take off my hat to you. Loving\nyou is away I have of thanking myself that you\nexist. Trusting you is away I have of congrat-\nulating myself upon your inheritance. For we\nare joint heirs, all of us, or there is no heir. And\nwe are joint villains or there is no villain. And\njoint saviors and gods or there are no saviors and\ngods. All of us. Men and women. All of us.\nThough we dont see each other, joint for saved\nor damned anyway. I am closer to everybody\nthan anybody thinks. And everybody is closer to\nme. And though we may appear to be nonchalant\nand unconcerned about each other the bond is"}, {"page_pdf": 106, "page_imprimee": "104", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.106", "debut_caractere": 29, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1573, "texte": "still unseverable. There is nothing anyone can\ndo to cut him off from me. And nothing I can\ndo to rid the crowd of its responsibility. I look\ncuriously at you as you pass. You are not beau-\ntiful or ugly to me. You are not rich or poor or\nwell-dressed or in rags. You are my brothers.\nWhen I look into the faces of saints and scoun-\ndrels I see only men and women. Always. Al-\nways. And when I look into the faces of men\nand women I see only gods and their companion\ngods. Always. Always.\nWhen I look into the faces of men and women.\nWhen I see what they might do and dont do.\nWhen I see their hypocrisies and degeneracies.\nWhen I see how far down they go after what is\nnot worth going for at all. When I see that they\nwalk in darkness when they could as easily walk\nin light. When I see their brutal warfares and\ntheir corrupting commerces and their wit-proud\narts. Then I wonder. Then my wonder is mul-\ntiplied by wonder and is dismayed. Then things\ncrowd and choke my spirit. Then I see what\nthe despairers mean when they say man is not\nworth his flesh. Then lam like someone thrown\ninto a threatening sea, Then I cry for help. The\nstars pale and disappear. The compass no longer\npoints north. Lot e becomes only another word\nfor hate. Working seems as useless as loafing.\nWhen I see the crowd robbed and awed by the\nfew. When I see the few robbed and awed by\nthe crowd. When I see nothing fitting with\nnothing the world over. Trade not fitting with\njustice. Art not fitting wih life. No one man\nfitting with another man. No man fitting with"}, {"page_pdf": 107, "page_imprimee": "105", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.107", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1626, "texte": "tlie crowd and the crowd fitting with no man.\nYour to-day and my to-day not fitting with our\nyesterdays or our to-morrows. This life not fit-\nting with any life that has been or is to be. Chil-\ndren not fitting with parents and parents not fit-\nting with children. Bodies not fitting with souls\nand souls not fitting with bodies. What we do\nnot fitting with what we wish to do. Ambition\nnot fitting with performance. Lovers not fitting\nwith loving. Wives not fitting with husbands.\nEverywhere, everywhere, the inglorious travesty.\nOur religions not fitting with the gods. Our\nstates not fitting with the people. The mortal\nmoment not fitting with immortal time. Things,\nsouls, tendencies, distraught. When I see that\nI too withdraw and make less of life. I too re-\ntire from my proud boast. I too humble myself\nbefore the shaming fact. I too confess my sins.\nI too charge a big bill up against my ardent\nfaith. I too feel myself enclosed by falsifying\nconclusions. I too measure myself and weigh\nmyself by what is trivial and puny. I too walk\naround less sure of myself. Yes, less sure of you.\nLess sure of all. Less sure of my dreams. Less\nsure of the very feet I walk on and the very wings\nby which I soar. Less sure of the picture you\npaint. Less sure of the song you sing. Less sure\nof my own passionate words of encouragement\nand revelation. Less sure. Less sure. Not giv-\ning up the great hope. But less sure. Not giv-\ning up the food I eat but less sure that it feeds\nme. Not giving up my certainties but less sure\nthat they are certain. Not breaking finally with\nyou O love but less sure that even you O love"}, {"page_pdf": 108, "page_imprimee": "106", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.108", "debut_caractere": 30, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1561, "texte": "are quite so potent as I have thought. Not turn-\ning my back on my darling comrades the crowd\nbut not as sure as I have been that my smiling\nface conveys any message to them. When I see\nthat men cant live with each other without hate.\nThat they cant trade with each other without\nrobbery. That they cant grow big with power\nwithout growing little with pride. That they are\nnot satisfied with self rule. That they must rule\neach other. When I see that men would rather\nbe prosperous and have all poor than be poor and\nhave all prosperous. Then lam lost. Then lam\nlost. Ido not know my way. The sun goes out.\nMy heart goes out. All the beautiful results I\nwas so confident of go out. Love goes out. O,\nlove goes out. Holy final love: it, too, goes out.\nGoes out like an unreturning tide. I am left alone.\nLeft trying to touch something I can hold on to.\nSomething left of all the wreckage which I can\nhold on to. Some remnant of joy. Some glint\nof vision. Some splinter. Some saving strand.\nReaching for some hand to lift pie above the\nwhirling maddened departing stream. When I\nsee man going back on man. When I see goods\nand incomes and rulership going back on man it\nmeans nothing to me. But when I see man going\nback on man it means all to me. Then I am\nprostrate. Then my voice is stopped. I can say\nnothing. I drift. God knows where to. I drift.\nIt dont seem as if anything was left to do. As\nif the fight was worth keeping up. As if being\nloyal was more important than being traitorous.\nWhen man goes back on man. I who was so"}, {"page_pdf": 109, "page_imprimee": "107", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.109", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1553, "texte": "unshakably sure. I who now am shaken. When\nman goes hack on man.\nWhen I look into the faces of men and women.\nAfter the eclipses and the disfigurements. After\nthe enmities and the degradations. After going\ninto all the hells. After making all the admis-\nsions. After being swept away in the rages of\nthe tyrant passions. Then suddenly the shining\nsun breaks through. Then suddenly the earth is\nflooded with light. Then lam restored. I who\nwas cast down am lifted up. I who wondered so\nmuch over the weakness of men and women won-\nder now over the irresistible strength of men and\nwomen. Then things are explained. Then evil\nis explained in the good. Hate is explained in\nlove. That which men and women did not do\nis explained in what they are capable of doing.\nGrief is explained in rapture. The greeds are\nexplained in generosity. For I see at last that\na man and a woman are not explained in what\nthey do but in what they lead to. What a man\nand woman do is too often ghastly. But some-\nhow what they lead to is always beautiful. I had\nlooked into the faces of men and women and it\nwas night there. Now the sun is up. Now the\nfaces are radiant. I know that when a man and a\nwoman rob or hate night is there. And I know\nthat when they serve and love the day has come.\nAnd I know that a man and a woman containing\nlove and justice will someway through whatever\ncontagions of animosity and crime become loving\nand just. Igo about in this midday of the spirit.\nIn the streets. Everywhere. Where men and\nwomen are. And I see men and women as they"}, {"page_pdf": 110, "page_imprimee": "108", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.110", "debut_caractere": 29, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1654, "texte": "do not see themselves. I tell them things they\ndo not tell themselves. I lift them up to planes to\nwhich they do not lift themselves. For the sun\nis up in my world. And when the sun is up in\nthe world the world is flushed with insight. When\nthe sun is up in your world you too will know.\nBut until then you will doubt or deny. When\nthe sun is up in the world there is light enough\nto go round. Light enough to account for all the\ndarkness. Good enough to account for all the\nevil. Sweet enough to account for all the sour.\nLife enough to account for all the death. Now\nthe sun is up in my world. And as you pass be-\nfore me, as I loaf about among you, unrecognized,\nyou men and women, you are as plain to me as\nmy own thumb. I dont need to argue with my-\nself about you. For there's infinite light in my\nworld. Light to penetrate you through and\nthrough. Light to challenge all hideousness and\nto disperse all contaminations. If I did not think\nbetter of you, men and women, than you do of\nyourselves, I would give you up, O men and wo-\nmen. But my world accounts for yo\"u. Accounts\nfor the beast in you by the man in you. Accounts\nfor your moral surrenders by your spiritual vic-\ntories. If my world did not light you enough to\nlight you to justice and joy then my light might\nas well be darkness. If it did not light the crowd\nenough to light it to the man or light the man\nenough to light him to the crowd it might as well\nbe darkness. If it did not light the effaced schol-\nars enough to light them to life again it might as\nwell be darkness. If it did not throw itself full\ninto your faces, O men and women, and disclose"}, {"page_pdf": 111, "page_imprimee": "109", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.111", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 832, "texte": "yon to yourselves, and disclose love to itself, and\ndisclose the vast peoples to themselves, and dis-\nclose all the mistakes to themselves, and disclose\nall the dividing creeds and industries to them-\nselves: oh! if my light did not disclose every-\nthing to itself so that it might light everything\nfarther to its ineffable consequence, then it might\nas well be darkness. O, it might as well be dark-\nness. But my light is competent. It is enough\nfor everywhere and enough for all. It lights\neverything to itself. It lights the man to the\nwoman and the woman to the man and the few\nto many and many to all and all to the one again.\nMy light might as well be darkness if it fails to\nlight everything to itself and all to everything in\nthe storm and calm of its masterful plenty. When\nI look into the faces of men and women."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c027", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c027", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "110", "page_fin": "110", "image_debut": 112, "image_fin": 112, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.27", "titre_corps": "Do you know what it means to say love? to be always and", "titre_sommaire": "Do you know what it means to say love? to be always and", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 112, "page_imprimee": "110", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.112", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 469, "texte": "Do you know what it means to say love? to be always and\nonly saying love every day every where?\nYou think it's easy to say love but hard to say hate: I say\nno: love is hardest of all to say:\nFor sometimes you must say love with a knife: sometimes\nwith the cruelest word you know:\nSaying love is not saying soft things sweetly to make your\nlover comfortable: far from that:\nSaying love is often to say things that cut and rend: things\nthat may even destroy: do you hear?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c028", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c028", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "111", "page_fin": "119", "image_debut": 113, "image_fin": 121, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.28", "titre_corps": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE", "titre_sommaire": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 113, "page_imprimee": "111", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.113", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1448, "texte": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE\nLoving is the only life. Living must give us\ntime for life. It is not enough to fill your lungs\nwith air. You must fill your lungs with life.\nThe heart must not only beat. It must beat the\ndance of life. It is not important to live so many\nyears. It is important to live so much life. You\nhave dollars. But have you life? You write\nsomething. People admire you. You are fa-\nmous for some reason or other. That is all very\ngreat. But there is something beyond. Life is\nbeyond. Eating and sleeping is not life. Love\nalone is life. You are brilliant. You perform\nin the center of the stage. But that is not life.\nLending money at percents. Making profits.\nGetting a house full of decorations. That is not\nlife. A man may have all that and more and be\nstone dead. I pass you on the street. You look\nempty. You are hungry. You ache and strain\nfor something. What is it you yet need? You\nwho have so much. You who seem to have all\nthe world. You to whose door all ships seem to\nsail and into whose treasury all cargoes seem to\nbe unloaded. You cast upon me such a vacant\nlook. You have not found out that your wealth\nis not life. You have not consciously said that\nto yourself. But your body has found it out.\nYour soul has found it out. You have power.\nYou can draw a big check. You are admitted\nanywhere. You are welcome to interrupt the\nworld at its devotions. Nobody would think of\nclosing you out. The state, the church, open"}, {"page_pdf": 114, "page_imprimee": "112", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.114", "debut_caractere": 25, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1620, "texte": "when you appear, before you say a word. Yet\nyou cast that empty look upon me when we pass.\nThat telltale look. That look that means more\nthan your riches. That look of infinite self pity.\nYou have the key to all locks. But you are help-\nless before that which having no lock needs 110\nkey. You are alive. But you do not possess life.\nYou are your own master. But that is not\nenough. There is something beyond. After be-\ning your own master you must know how to be-\ncome your own slave. You can live in the senses.\nIn the gratification of the passions. In the ac-\ncumulation of temporal properties. But living is\nnot life. So many in so many generations have\nbeen fooled. They have got what they reached\nfor. But they have found that what they reached\nfor was not what they desired. When a man is\ngreedy. When he seems willing to do anything\nto get goods. Then life seems to say to him:\nHere's what you want: now what are you going\nto do with it? You are filled to the brim. What\nare you going to do with it? You run over with\nsuccess. What are you going tg do with it? You\nare known everywhere you go. The instant your\nname is mentioned everybody knows who you are.\nWhat are you going to do with it? This is living.\nBut this is not life. You are a conqueror. You\nare a maker of laws. You rule people. What you\nsay goes. Those who hate fear you. Those who\nlove despise you. You are an arrogant force upon\nwhose will for fair or foul the formal living of the\nworld depends. You have reached deepest into\nthe dirt. You have reached highest into the blue\nether. Yet you look at me as if you who seem"}, {"page_pdf": 115, "page_imprimee": "113", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.115", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1620, "texte": "to liave all after all have nothing. Yon have not\ndiscovered that living is not life. Yon have not\nseen that far. But yon have discovered that some-\nthing is the matter with yon. That something is\nthe matter with the crown yon wear. That a dia-\ndem does not make a king. That living does not\nmake life. That sometimes the more a man con-\ntains the less he contains. That somehow one\ndream is worth a thousand facts. That one cipher\nis worth more than a thousand figures one. A man\nmay find that out too late. He often leaves it\nto his. children to find it out for him. And a\nrace often finds it out too late. A dazzling gen-\neration of strutters and pirates finds it out too\nlate. It often leaves it to posterity to find it out.\nThat's where you are and lam to-day. We have\ndone wonders. But we have not done enough.\nWe have still to find ourselves out. We have done\nwonders. You and I. Our countries. Your\ncountry. Germany, England, Canada, America.\nOur countries. Any countries. They have still\nto find themselves out. To find out that living is\nnot life. To find out that the church and the\nstate are not life. That priesthoods and plu-\ntocracies are not life. That love alone is life.\nThat love which means brotherhood all around\nand justice going with it all around. That that\nlove alone is life. That is why our civilization\nbulging at the belt is still so empty. That is why\nour governments bragging so vastly about their\nomnipotence are still so helpless that they can\nonly maintain themselves with armies and na-\nvies. Like our systems. Which can only main-\ntain themselves by robbery. They have found"}, {"page_pdf": 116, "page_imprimee": "114", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.116", "debut_caractere": 25, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1598, "texte": "much. But they have not found out themselves.\nThey know how to live. But they have not foun d\nlife. For life is only found with love. The way\nof life is the way of love. Not the way of living\nbut the way of life. Not the way of living, which\nis bound to come to an end, but the way of life,\nwhich is necessarily interminable. That way of\nlife which is the way of love.\nLoving is the only life. But we are warned.\nToo much love may mean too little life. Putting\nlove in place of power may be like putting disease\nin place of health. Love. But dont love too\nmuch. Put a little love into trade. But keep\nlots of cruelty there to balance it. Be decent.\nBut dont be too decent. Always keep some vil-\nlainy in reserve. Dont rob too much. But still\nrob enough to keep the world indignant. If we\nhad no victims we would have nobody to get mad\nat the victors. If we had no bad the good would\nbe too easy. If a man was not obliged to fight\nfor his life his death would be painless. There\nmust be some poison in every dish. There must\nbe some alloy in every deed. If we all loved\nhate would possess us. We need hate to keep\nlove straight. We need treason to balance loy-\nalty. You must be very careful so as not to be\ntoo considerate. You must spice your generosity.\nPut some greed into it. Make the smooth rough.\nAdd some bitter to the sweet. A world of love\nwould lack contrast. Would be without color.\nWe need the persecutor. Men would go soft\nwithout the tyrant. The bully will qualify the\nman. So you need not be so conscience stricken\nwhen you have done some mean thing. But for"}, {"page_pdf": 117, "page_imprimee": "115", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.117", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1608, "texte": "that mean thing the stars might fall out of their\nplaces. Think of it. Your arm is omnipotence.\nYour crime is salvation. You starve the widow\nand the orphan. Too much love would make\nlove itself monotonous. Therefore, corner wheat.\nTherefore, collect your rents. Therefore, live 011\nmoney someone else has to work for. Therefore,\nrejoice in the purchased judgments of courts.\nTherefore, shine. No matter whom you obscure,\nshine. Get what you can in any way you can get\nit. We could not live in a heaven. Mix some\nhell with every heaven. Heaven is saved by the\nhell in it. Does the idea of love make you shud-\nder? lam accused of an iniquity. My love no-\ntion is a fallacy. It will take all the flush out of\nthe cheeks of the world. It will leave us without\na cause. When a man achieves love that is the\nend of him. There is no bevond. So with the\nsocial bodv. When it has achieved love it is dead.\nThere is nothing to continue with. Motive is\nkilled. Impetus is gone. After we have accom-\nplished love we have no reason for being. All\nhaving been done there is nothing to do. The\nperfect state will have to react towards imperfec-\ntion. Love must pray to be saved from love.\nThey say to me: You are dragging your earth\nthe way of death. lam charged with preaching\nlove at the expense of life. Life could not stand\nlove. It would break down under the strain. It\nwould cease, vanish, lapse away. Love requires\nits foil. My world, my love's paradise, my fool\neden, without its adams and eves and apples\nand temptations, would blast all harvests and re-\nduce the fertilities of contrast to desert sand."}, {"page_pdf": 118, "page_imprimee": "116", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.118", "debut_caractere": 25, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1639, "texte": "They say to me: Keep your hands off. Let the\nwrongs alone. Let the people suffer. Let the\nshadows thicken. I say: Loving is the only life.\nBut you object. Institutions object. The church\nobjects. The state. The piracies. They all ob-\nject. They say: Loving is the only death. Love\nand you will live. That is what I have said. Love\nand you will die. That is what you have said.\nWhat you say. Love will produce a race of\nweaklings. Lovers cant fight. Lovers cant re-\nsist. Lovers cant say 110. Lovers can only sur-\nrender. Therefore, your percents are the guar-\nantee of life. Therefore, your injustices are what\nsave society from disintegration. Hating is the\nspice of life. I have said: Rather go without life\nthan go without love. You say: Love is only\nthe fringe of the garment: we must have life.\nThat is, we must have life no matter what be-\ncomes of love. I say: We must have love what-\never becomes of life. You dissent. Love onlv\ntj\nleads life into a pit. Love will not do for every\nday. It must have its seasons. It must be re-\nserved for special occasions. A little love will\nkeep. Much love will destroy. That is why our\nsystems are built on cruelties. Their barbarisms\nare preservative. Rein your love in. Love will\ntake all the virility out of the social order. If\nyou are a lover, go slow. If you wish the race\nwell, take a second guess. It may be wiser to\nwish it ill. You say: Every thing must be done to\npreserve the race. I say: Only one kind of a race\nis worth preserving. I hear it said that a race of\nlovers is as dangerous as a race of haters. I say:\nThere is a love beyond both love and hate."}, {"page_pdf": 119, "page_imprimee": "117", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.119", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1660, "texte": "Loving is the only life. Love closes no doors.\nIt throws everything wide open. Houses and\nhearts. We go from love to more love. To say\nlove is to say no more than that things get along\ntogether. To look at the stars and say love is only\nto say that the stars obey the law of life. To look\nat the body of a woman as a man and say love is\nonly to say that the flesh obeys the law of life.\nTo look at a dream. To write a poem. To make a\nshoe. To build a bridge. To walk out in the fresh\nair. To defy tyrants. To do such things and to\nsay love is only to say that whatever we do we\nobey the law of life. This does not mean always\ngiving up. It means never giving up. It does\nnot mean making concessions. It means demand-\ning concessions. Love is not less rigorous. Love\nis more rigorous. Love does not stop half way up.\nIt goes to the top. And it finds that every top\nhas another top. And so love never is satisfied\nwith what it has done. It always finds something\nelse to do. To look at the bud and say love is\nonly to prophecy the flower. To look at the wave\nand say love is only to call attention to the sea.\nTo laugh in cloudy weather and say love is only\nanother verification of the sun. To face the peo-\nple who think they are your enemies and say love\nis only to make it plainer that you can't be stirred\nfrom the truth. To look at life and say love is to\nestablish immortality. To look at what is hidden\nor doubtful and say love is only to open the eyes\nof the blind. To look at profits and say love is\nonly to lead the way to the commune. How can\nwe escape love? Love is the only life. To bask\nin the daylight and say love is only to lead to the"}, {"page_pdf": 120, "page_imprimee": "118", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.120", "debut_caractere": 25, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1643, "texte": "sun. You look at men. You say men are your\nbrothers. Is that as if we said: Now let us all\nmelt away in each other? To say brother is only\nto say law. To say brother is only to say that we\nhave discovered a consequence as well as a cause.\nTo say that love will leave nothing to be done is\nas if one said the loyalty of a planet to its orbit\nleaves nothing to be done. Love is not an end.\nIt is only a beginning. We begin to live when\nwe begin to love. And as long as we continue\nto love we will continue to begin. Love is not\nthe violation of law. It is the observance of\nlaw. Life derives its joint and sinew from love.\nLove is getting along together. Whether be-\ntween earths or people, getting along together.\nWhy should getting along together be worse than\ngetting along apart? Why should we suspect\nthat worlds that are loyal to their foundations\nare less likely to resist the northwind than worlds\nthat are built upon quicksands? To say no love\nis to say no life. For being alive is not life. Sim-\nply going about your business, simply making\nmoney, simply eating and drinking, even if you\nare a whole animal, is not life. To hold back\nlove supposing it may go too far is like holding\nback life supposing there may be too much life.\nWe will achieve all that love may see. Then\nlove will see more. We will go with love to com-\nplete love. Then we will go farther. Eternally\nfarther. As with life. Living life into the re-\nmotest distances only to recognize unceasing far-\nther obligations. There will always be more to\ndo than ever has been done. There will always\nbe more life coming than ever has arrived. There"}, {"page_pdf": 121, "page_imprimee": "119", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.121", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 930, "texte": "will always be more love needed than ever can be\nexpressed. To fear that love may love too much\nis to fear that life may live too much. Love is\nthe law of life. To fear love is to fear life. Lov-\ning is the only life because living together is the\nonly life. Because being together is inevitable.\nOceans and hills and people: being together.\nRain and the seed and the soil: being together.\nBlack and white and red: being together. A\nman, a woman, child: being together. Love is\nbeing together. The lake, the house on the shore,\nthe hermit: being together. Yesterday, to-day,\nto-morrow: being together. Love gets the ob-\nstructions out of the way of life. Gives living\ntime for life. Gets the wars out of the way. Gets\nthe poverties and the properties out of the way.\nGives the harvest a chance to mature. Makes\nthe ascent possible. Clears the way for the pause-\nless procession. For all forever. Loving is the\nonly life."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c029", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c029", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "120", "page_fin": "120", "image_debut": 122, "image_fin": 122, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.29", "titre_corps": "I am just a feeler sent out ahead maybe to try the earth", "titre_sommaire": "I am just a feeler sent out ahead maybe to try the earth", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 122, "page_imprimee": "120", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.122", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 728, "texte": "I am just a feeler sent out ahead maybe to try the earth\nfor new days:\nI am just a leaf of grass sent up early through the soil\nto see if the others could live if they followed:\nI am just a man who sticks his head out at the front door\nto see for the folks how cold the night is:\nI am just a migrate due from the south when the spring\nbreaks:\nI am just a light thrown on a puzzling pathway to give the\nrest a chance to travel without stumbling too often:\nI am just that: given a little room, a narrow margin, in\nwhich to play this simple part:\nWilling, when called, when my term is spent, to have my\ncredit cancelled:\nI, who, borrowing myself, signing for myself, cheerfully pay\nmy note:\nWhy shouldn't I give all hack, and more?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c030", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c030", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "121", "page_fin": "128", "image_debut": 123, "image_fin": 130, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.30", "titre_corps": "KEEP YOUR FACE TO THE SUN", "titre_sommaire": "KEEP YOUR FACE TO THE SUN", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 123, "page_imprimee": "121", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.123", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1466, "texte": "KEEP YOUR FACE TO THE SUN\nKeep your face to the sun. As the day goes\ndown let your cheer go up. The reminiscence\nof the light will last through the darkness. Do\nnot lean upon what you absorb. Depend upon\nwhat you bestow. Meet the sufficient noonglare\nwith a haughtier illumination. Do not reject\nsorrow. Do not shut your door in its face. In-\nvite it in. Make it feel at home. The heart in\nwhich sorrow is an alien misses its most sacred\ntenant. You will not make sorrow the master\nof the house. But you will include sorrow among\nyour guests. The purport of the house is joy.\nThe purport of the house is health. The earth\nmay pass into a cloud. But the purport of the\nearth is not the cloud. Things go wrong. But\nthe purport of things is right. You see injustices.\nYou see victims. You see shipwrecks. But the\npurport of experience is righteousness, deliver-\nance, salvation. No matter which way I look I\nkeep the sun in my face. Just as though looking\ninto hell I keep heaven in my face. Just as though\nlooking at cruelty I keep kindness in my face.\nJust as though looking at the struggle I keep the\nvictory in my face. I am haunted with pres-\nences which arm me with peace. There is evil.\nWe cant explain it. But there is good, too. And\nwe cant explain good. I do not wait for the\nuniverse to explain itself. For love to argue its\ncase. Maybe the universe cant be explained.\nMaybe love cant be argued about. Why should\nI put question marks into the sky in place of"}, {"page_pdf": 124, "page_imprimee": "122", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.124", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1628, "texte": "stars? It is my main buisness to live. To live\nnearest the best life I can discover. To live near-\nest the natural laws. To live nearest people. Not\nto ask for preferences. Not to expect odds. To\nlive. To spread power. To confer exhilaration.\nTo let the sun shine out of my face. For enough\nreasons or for 110 reason at all to let the sun\nshine. Taking the sun for granted. Taking the\nbest for granted even in the face of the worst.\nNot being afraid that when the clock runs down\nit can never be started again. Expecting sur-\npluses but being satisfied with shortages. Taking\nfame if it comes and humbling myself with it.\nNot reaching out for honors which do not belong\nto me. Letting the honors go or stay. Keeping\nsacred counsel with rny own soul. Letting the\nreturns take care of themselves. Shedding the\nlight. Not sneaking about the earth as if life\nhad to be hid away or enjoyed in the dark. Not\nsnarling at men as if they had to be barked into\nkennels. Not going among men with discounts.\nGoing among men with premiums. Adding a\nlittle to everything I come near to or look at. A\nlittle more love. A little more justice. A little\nmore loyalty. A little more resolution. I have\nno logic for my joy. But I have joy for it. Or\nfor my affection for you. But I have you for it.\nOr for my devotion to the great cause. But I\nhave the great cause for it. I can cite no justi-\nfications. But I can cite my comrades. I cite\nmvself. I cite vou. I cite the books I read. I\nkJ\ncite the struggle against money. They are\nenough. They are sun enough for me. They ex-\nplain enough. Love explains enough though it"}, {"page_pdf": 125, "page_imprimee": "123", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.125", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1540, "texte": "dont explain at all. The cause explains enough\nthough it dont explain at all. And the abound-\ning light: it too explains enough. The vast in-\nterstreaming dazzle of noontime: it explains\nnothing but it explains enough. I who question\nso much am silent. I who doubt so much accept.\nI who love so much do not ask for pay. Keep\nyour face to the sun. A greater sun may shine\nin your face.\nKeep your face to the\" sun. No matter what\ncomes between keep your face to the sun. When\nyour salary comes between. When the contempt\nof your enemies and the fear of your friends\ncome between. When ruin comes between. No\nmatter what may come between. Keep your face\nto the sun. You will be driven and warned. You\nwill be despised and tempted. You will be mis-\nunderstood. You will be summoned into courts\nof public prejudice. You will be asked the ques-\ntions of reaction and disease. But you will keep\nyour face to the sun. Though the sun goes in\nbehind a cloud will keep your face to the sun.\nThough the sun fails to get into your picture will\nkeep your picture to the sun. When you take an\noffice and the office is between. When you have\nambitions that come between. When cowardice\ncomes between. When praise comes between.\nWhen even the love of your dearest comrade\ncomes between. You will keep your face to the\nsun. Ido not promise you fruit without the seed\nof the fruit. You will plant. And much that you\nplant may come to nothing in the ground. Though\nit may come to much in your heart. You will\npour out property. Give the last cent. Go"}, {"page_pdf": 126, "page_imprimee": "124", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.126", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1587, "texte": "stripped, utterly shorn, into the contest. But\nyou will keep your face to the sun. Yes: you\nwill despair. You will say you dont see why\nyou should keep up the light. You will want to\nsell your birthright. You will grudge men suc-\ncess. You will travel where no eye can chart\nthe way. You will taste the bitterest defeat.\nYou will be jealous and cruel. Your brute self\nwill stand between you and the sun. Yet you\nwill always stand with your face to the sun. Ido\nnot suppose anything malign comes to any man\nwhich may not just as well come to you. That\nno disappointment can come. That no tragedy\ncan come. That you too may lose fortunes. May\nlose more than fortunes. May lose hope. May\nlose relation with the cosmos. That you too may\nbe cut adrift from the crowd. May be crushed\nby the law. May have your trust violated. May\nbe deceived. May read the promises of faith\nbackward. May challenge justice. May go in\nfor the abolition of brotherhood. May fool the\nprophets. Things do go wrong iniife though life\nitself never goes wrong. Events do conspire\nagainst the plans of men. But they do not con-\nspire against men. We have to take all into ac-\ncount. All the momentary repulses. We often\nride a very roundabout course to victory. A course\nthrough disappointment. A course through di-\nrect losses. A course over bad roads. Encoun-\ntering the devious motives of our companions.\nDo you keep your face to the sun? No matter\nwhich way you go you may keep your face to\nthe sun. East or west or north or south or up or\ndown or across it is all the same. You may keep"}, {"page_pdf": 127, "page_imprimee": "125", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.127", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1575, "texte": "your face to the sun. Your face shining with a\nlight all its own. Your face baffling all rivalries\nof solar glory. You who ride to death may ride\nto life. You may turn your back to the sun.\nBut the sun never turns its back to you. You\nmay turn your back to the soul. The soul never\nturns its back to you. You may scorn the sen-\ntiment of man. You may make light of the ro-\nmance of lovers. You may look with disdain\nupon the ignorant and the stupid. You may take\ncare of yourself at the expense of others. You\nmay postpone or destroy the impulse to give.\nYour life may be a life of seizure and appropria-\ntion. May ride shod rough over the crowd. May\naccept every advantage of position. Every ad-\nvantage of culture. Not acquiescing in the gen-\neral liberties. Flourishing your gifts like clubs.\nDemanding awe and worship. Quoting your\nmoney or your genius as evidence of your su-\nperiority. Standing aside when the people in-\nvite you to serve. Pulling back when the peo-\nple try to go on. Being satisfied with your sur-\nplus when the people have too little to eat and\ntoo little to wear. This may be your burden.\nThis may be your bloodred sin. This may be\nyour rack. You may shrink from the sun. Your\nface may turn the other way. May prefer the\ndarkness of possession to the light of atonement.\nYour eyes may be weak. May not be able to\nstand the sunbeams. May take no sun in and\nhave no sun to give out. Your eyes may endure\ntyranny but not endure freedom. May endure\nseeing labor suffer but not endure seeing labor\nenfranchised. May endure their inheritance but"}, {"page_pdf": 128, "page_imprimee": "126", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.128", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1604, "texte": "not endure their vista. This is the tragedy of the\npilgrim. He passes across the earth. The path\nis often dark and uncertain. Often he has to feel,\nbecause he cannot see, his way through. Then he\nis driven back upon his conclusions. What are\nhis conclusions? Conclusions of triumph or con-\nclusions of disaster? Conclusions for one or con-\nclusions for all? Conclusions of property or con-\nclusions of the soul? In the eclipse of reason all\ndepends upon the conclusions. In the disappear-\nance of all you have seen all depends upon the\nappearance of what you have not seen. What\nare your conclusions? When all resource gives\nout. When the road seems to end. When fac-\nulty and vision have lost the impulse of appeal.\nThen all depends upon the conclusion. The con-\nclusion to abandon all gobetweens and trust your-\nself to the soul. The conclusion to refuse all\npreferments and trust yourself to the people.\nThe conclusion to face the sun even if it blind you.\nThe conclusion to meet sun with sun. The splen-\ndid sun sufficing for the love of the body with the\nsun more splendid sufficing for the love of the\nspirit.\nKeep your face to the sun. I love you, O sun.\nBut I too am a sun. Sometimes I think I light\nyou: that you dont light me. That I each day\nrekindle your expiring fires. That if I did not\ncome up in the morning you would not come up.\nThat you do not appear at the horizon greeting\nthe world. That I appear. That you do not\ncross the heavens glorifying your unrivalled pas-\nsage and sanctifying your retrospect with the\nmatchless twilight. That I cross the heavens."}, {"page_pdf": 129, "page_imprimee": "127", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.129", "debut_caractere": 10, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1594, "texte": "That all the majesty and the wonder inheres to\nme. That Ido not depend upon you. That you\ndepend upon me. That Persia did not worship\nyou. That Persia worshipped me. That after all\nyou are only the form while I am the substance.\nThat you might be blotted out. That no harm\nwould come to man. But that if I was blotted\nout the fate of man would be sealed in annihila-\ntion That I have ejected you from the heavens\nand assumed your place. That you no longer\nrule, godstrong on a celestial throne. That I\nrule, man-potent in the hum of the common\nstreet. That the farms and the orchards do not\nlook to you for fructification. That they look to\nme. That all harvests are my harvests.\nHarvests of fields as well as harvests of hearts.\nHarvests of justice as well as harvests of things.\nHarvests of ideals as well as harvests of deeds.\nThat the supreme life is not there with you in\nthe orbits of the heavens. That they are here\nwith me in the twists and turns of alleys and\npikes. I see now O sun that it is important to\nbe a sun but that it is more important to be a\nman. That it is right to shine like a sun but that\nit is more than right to shine like a lover. That\neverything whatever seen or unseen is great and\nawes me. But that there is something neither\nseen nor unseen that stirs me to mightier results.\nThat it is no mistake to make much of your\ngenial flame: that you give life without question\nand cannot be denied your pay. That it is still\nless a mistake to make more of my precedent\nendowments: that they give ampler life without\nquestion and cannot be denied their pay. The"}, {"page_pdf": 130, "page_imprimee": "128", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.130", "debut_caractere": 27, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1407, "texte": "pay of the sun is the pay of the crops. Is the\npay of houses. Is the pay of dividends. Is the\npay of profit and loss. The pay of my dreams is the\npay of love. Is the pay of men and women and\nchildren. Is the pay of immortality. I too O sun\nget down on my knees to you. I too O sun stand\nerect honoring you. I too O sun gather with the\ncrowds acknowledging your first causes. I too\nO sun let no rival shame mv tribute. I too O\nsun call you God. And you, O sun, do you realiz-\ning yourself admit me ? You too O sun: do you\nget down on your knees honoring me? Do you\nO sun gathering with the stars and the wheat and\nthe factories acknowledge my first causes? Do\nyou O sun bringing tribute do as much for me\nas any other and more? Do you O sun call me\nGod? I have said of you O sun: you feed my\nbody. Do you say of me O sun: you feed my\nsoul? I have said to my darling comrades the\nlands and seas over gasping for life: Keep your\nface to the sun. I have said to them: No matter\nwhat happens, 110 matter for barbarism and mur-\nder, no matter for robbery and starvation, no\nmatter for yawning perditions, keep your face\nto the sun. And I say to you O sun subtracting\nno atom from the sum of your illimitability:\nKeep your face to me. Comrades: Come: assem-\nble yourselves about me. The first word shall be\nthe last word and the last word the first word\nagain: Keep your face to the sun."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c031", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c031", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "133", "page_fin": "133", "image_debut": 135, "image_fin": 135, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.31", "titre_corps": "The May issue of THE GLEBE", "titre_sommaire": "The May issue of THE GLEBE", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 135, "page_imprimee": "133", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.135", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 555, "texte": "The May issue of THE GLEBE\nwill present Poems by George Cronyn.\nContents of Volume I:\nsongs, sighs and Curses. By Adolf\nWolff .........................60c.\nThe Diary of a Suicide. By Wallace E.\nBaker .........................50c.\nThe Azure Adder. By Charles Demuth\n...................35.\nLover of Once's Neighhor. By Leonid\nAndreyev........................35c.\nDes Imagistes. An Anthology.....50c.\nErna Vitek. By Alfred Kreyinborg.\n..........................All sold.\nHereafter all single copies will be\n50 cents.\nThe subscription price per year is\n$3.00."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c032", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c032", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "129", "page_fin": "129", "image_debut": 131, "image_fin": 131, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.32", "titre_corps": "[Publicité]", "titre_sommaire": "[Publicité]", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 131, "page_imprimee": "129", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.131", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 80, "texte": "POETRY\nA MAGAZINE OF VERSE\nEdited by Harriet Monroe, 543 Cass St., Chicago, 111."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c033", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c033", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "129", "page_fin": "129", "image_debut": 131, "image_fin": 131, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.33", "titre_corps": "[Publicité]", "titre_sommaire": "[Publicité]", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 131, "page_imprimee": "129", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.131", "debut_caractere": 82, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1325, "texte": "POETRY, at the end of its first year, is no longer an experi-\nment but an assured artistic success, a publication whose\nimportance is authoritatively recognized, not only in this\ncountry, but in Great Britain and France as well. The\nfield it has opened up is full of brilliant possibilities, en-\ncouraging the editors to hope for the enthusiastic sup-\nport of a discriminating public.\nPOETRY endeavors to present the best verse now being\nwritten in English, quality alone being the test of ac-\nceptance.\nPOETRY is an effort to create an organ for the art. While\nthe ordinary magazines must minister to a large public\nlittle interested in poetry, this magazine appeals to and\nwill develop a public primarily interested in poetry as\nan art, potentially the highest, most complete human ex-\npression of truth and beauty. Thus it offers to poets a\nchance to be heard by their own audience, in their own\nplace, without the limitations imposed by the popular\nmagazines. And to lovers of poetry it offers each month\na sheaf of new verse in delicate form uninterrupted by\nprose articles demanding a different mood.\nIf You Love Good Poetry, Subscribe—\nPOETRY\n543 Cass Street, Chicago.\nSend POETRY for one year ($1.50 enclosed) beginning\nto\nName\nAddress"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c034", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c034", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "130", "page_fin": "130", "image_debut": 132, "image_fin": 132, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.34", "titre_corps": "[Publicité]", "titre_sommaire": "[Publicité]", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 132, "page_imprimee": "130", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.132", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1541, "texte": "CHANTS COMMUNAL\nBy HORACE TRAUBEL\nBoards, $l.OO net. Paper, 30 cents postpaid.\nInspirational prose pieces fired by revolutionary idealism and pro-\nphetically subtle in their vision. The high esteem in which Traubel's\nwork is held is attested by the following unusual commendations:\nMildred Bain: \"In 'Chants Communal' we have some of the most\nmagnificent poetry which has ever accompanied a historic movement of\nthought. These songs may well be termed scriptural. They are the very\nheart beat of humanity. Such powerful exhortations, such fiercely tender\npleadings are in them. They are religious in the deepest, broadest sense.\nEvery one of them is a call to the higher self in man; is instinct with\nthe consciousness of the sacredness of life in its human every-day aspects.\"\nJack London: \"His is the vision of the poet and the voice of\nthe poet.\"\nEugene V. Debs: \"Traubel is a philosopher, a poet, and a prophet;\nhe has produced a volume of literature;—the literature of life and love,\nof freedom and joy, and of universal social redemption.\"\nClarence Darrow: \"Horace Traubel is both a poet and a philosopher.\nNo one can say anything too good about him or his work.\"\nGeorge D. Herron: \"It is a book of the highest value and beauty\nthat Horace Traubel proposes to # give us, and I can only hope that it\nwill be read as widely and appreciatively as it more than deserves to be;\nfor it is with a joy that would seem extravagant, if I expressed it, that\nI welcome 'Chants Communal.' \"\nALBERT AND CHARLES BONI\n96 FIFTH A VENUE - - - - NEW YORK"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c035", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c035", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "130", "page_fin": "130", "image_debut": 132, "image_fin": 132, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.35", "titre_corps": "[Publicité]", "titre_sommaire": "[Publicité]", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 132, "page_imprimee": "130", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.132", "debut_caractere": 1543, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2204, "texte": "THE INTERNATIONAL\nA magazine for matured minds.\nA magazine for those who dare to think.\nA magazine for all true cosmopolites.\nA magazine with a courage so fearless that it publishes\nthe best.\nBrieux, Schnitzler, Strindberg are only a few of the ad-\nvanced thinkers who have appeared in the pages of THE\nINTERNATIONAL.\nWe have been in the vanguard of intellectual freedom.\nWe shall always be far ahead of our times.\nYou may glimpse the future by reading THE INTER-\nNATIONAL.\nGeorge Sylvester Viereck, Editor.\nLeonard D. Abbott, Richard Le Gallienne, Associate Editors.\n15 CENTS A COPY. $1.50 A YEAR.\nMOODS PUBLISHING COMPANY\n29 WEST 42ND STREET - - NEW YORK CITY"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c036", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c036", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "131", "page_fin": "131", "image_debut": 133, "image_fin": 133, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.36", "titre_corps": "[Publicité]", "titre_sommaire": "[Publicité]", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 133, "page_imprimee": "131", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.133", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 287, "texte": "JOHN REED\nBack from Mexico\nMAX EASTMAN\nin Colorado\nwill give in detail the true\nstory of the Colorado and\nMexican Wars. DON'T\nforget to order your copy,\nof the June number of\n\"The Masses\"\nJO Cents a Copy—One Dollar a IT ear\nTHE MASSES PUB. CO.\n91 GREENWICH AVENUE\nNEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaat-1914-04-01-c037", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01#c037", "volume": "bmtnaat_1914-04_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "132", "page_fin": "132", "image_debut": 134, "image_fin": 134, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.2.37", "titre_corps": "[Publicité]", "titre_sommaire": "[Publicité]", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 134, "page_imprimee": "132", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.134", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1363, "texte": "The Little Review\nMARGARET G. ANDERSON, Editor\nFine Arts Building, Chicago\nA New Monthly Journal\n—lll 1 1 Mm —limilllMll !■ IWI 111 11l WW I TMrtrMHWri lllia illl ■ lllllilMißllll 111\nDrama, Music and Art\nIt is unacademic, enthusiastic, appreciative and youthful,\nseeking and emphasizing the truth which is beauty, and in-\nsisting upon a larger naturalness and a nobler seriousness\nin art and life.\nIt is not connected in any way with any organization or\ncompany, is free from propaganda and outworn traditions,\nand has ideals and convictions which have already secured\nit a large, critical list of readers.\nThe third (May) number contains the following:\nOn Behalf of Literature DeWitt C. Wing\nThe Challenge of Emma Goldman,\nMargaret C. Anderson\nChloroform, Mary Aldis and Arthur Davisson Ficke\n\"True to Life\"..... Edith Wyatt\nImpression George Soule\nArt and Life George Burman Foster\nPatriots Parke Farley\n\"Change\" at the Fine Arts Theatre.\nCorrespondence:\nThe Vision of Wells.\nAnother View of \"The Dark Flower.\"\nDr. Foster's Articles on Nietzsche.\nLawton Parker Eunice Tietjens\nNew York Letter George Soule\nUnion vs. Union Privileges... .Henry Blackman Sell\nBook Discussion:\nMr. Chesterton's Prejudices.\nDr. Flexner on Prostitution.\nThe Critics' Critic.\nSentence Reviews.\nLetters to The Little Review.\nThe subscription price is $2.50 per annum; 25 cents\na copy."}]}], "pages_ocr_originales": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.1", "texte": "THE GLEBE\nCOLLECTS\nBy Horace Traubel\n\nV • b;> v *.\" v, -C\", •_f 3'r >r vV .* .! *v i- ;0 ■>& ;< ?:\n■: ■■'■■■ .' ''' ' s.\nWSSSBBBSK M ttHB\nVMHfI 1 f\"\njSI JMM sm, • ■ '\n■t jSatißF v sßßmr Jhl 188\nlip •ht '■ ••■■ '' «H^P' ' ,K><'J ':i 'r3f ' \" •■}' ...|s?i;\n<HBv aaUt ■ JS\n; , BBHPPPB fiSSSSSSi :\nWMf ' mm Mm Jra |..„\nflB ' ••'Tflfflilfr '-• - ilMWiinilfMMPE- ' QHsm^\nmUm i'::- w/rK $' '^SiPßifcL\niHKft ' 'ijgM&Ss '\nOHgL HH JsBSF- . JHA W\nliHgft ; ißr\nm .H Jm . WS. W JB& :\n; m ra ntti nHr 1 n ?;\nWk .*' aHsB .V-y.::,:.;■ ■-. v-^i. '. ■■ |( . -:/ ■.-,.; .L,'\n1 MiWHWHBME\nv< toEL fIPHHj RBHPPMPPi. MMBB §§p\n./. PHflt rV;;,., \\'\\'- ■\n' ''<' j&SSSsBBB^'\n.>)(.... »*... .TR'ft.. .i.i..??..... /ATT^!r> V 1 A.\" s* / 1.... .M.,, a If *<, >\nVOLUME 2\nNUMBER 1\nAPRIL\n1914\nO TT 13 Or* D T p # '\n' . ' •'.? : Y '\n_ W \"*V 9'ii\\ jVsnvJL*- ' * -Lff'... . AHiSS/K\" w.\n: TtllfC.© :: J^OlIl$!' 4 A ■\n■ ; \" fii '"}, {"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "couv. 2", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.2", "texte": "THE only editorial policy of THE GLEBE is\nthat embodied in its declaration of absolute\nfreedom of expression, which makes for a range\nbroad enough to include every temperament from\nthe most radical to the most conservative, the only\nrequisite being that the work should have unmistakable\nmerit. Each issue will be devoted exclusively\nto one individual, thereby giving him an opportunity\nto present his work in sufficient bulk to\nmake it possible for the reader to obtain a much\nmore comprehensive grasp of his personality than\nis afforded him in the restricted spaces allotted by\nthe other magazines. Published monthly. THE\nGLEBE will issue twelve books per year, chosen\non their merits alone, since the subscription list\ndoes away with the need of cafering to the popular\ndemand that confronts every publisher. Thus\nTHE GLEBE can promise the best work of American\nand foreign authors, known and unknown.\nThe price of each issue of THE GLEBE will be\nhity cents and the yearly subscription three dollars.\n\n..■;->v:r,,,;'.;.V:„-'-o■■ ;';;;.r:a='v\n'AX* HRED KM Ey SS'B-©RG\nO-j *s IVII -cTi\"#sl -Hf Ki*\n/ !%. ~ Sgl \" -sn-» J1* jo**'\n|lg jfi§B|| •»' jg&gjj \\ V V ,ft ||||\n* *.% * f *ar i / •> > * \" -\nY ofk City"}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "n. p.", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.3", "texte": "COLLECTS"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "n. p.", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.4", "texte": "BOOKS BY HORACE TRAUBEL\nCHANTS COMMUNAL\nOPTIMOS\nCOLLECTS\nWITH WALT WHITMAN\nIN CAMDEN"}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "[3]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.5", "texte": "COLLECTS\nHORACE TRAUBEL\n\n(Fez\nNEW YORK\nALBERT AND CHARLES BONI\n96 FIFTH AVENUE\n1914"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "[4]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.6", "texte": "Copyright, 1914\nBy\nAlbert and Charles Boni"}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "5", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.7", "texte": "CONTENTS\nI'm So Glad I Was Born 7\nPankhurst 18\nWhat Is the Color of Your Skin? 28\nYon Writers Who Are Trying to Write 36\nAll the Engineers Perished 49\nWhat Are Yon Doing for the Cause? 60\nI Claim Everything for the People 70\nTo Leave No Door Unopened 79\nHave You Sold Your Soul for Dirt? 90\nWhen I Look Into the Faces 101\nLoving is the Only Life 11l\nKeep Your Face to the Sun 121"}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "6", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.8", "texte": "I never found any use for birth or birthdays, dear comrades,\ntill I knew what it was to love:\nI could not tell how successful my life is by the number of\nthose who love me: I could only tell that by the number\nof those I love:\nI am victorious only when I have won my love of you from\nmyself: winning your love of me from you is not enough:\nAnd so this day though you may not gather me to you I\ngather you to me, body and spirit:\nAnd so this day I count myself up, not in figures but in\nlove, and say forgiving and jubilant things to my soul\nabout us all."}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "7", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.9", "texte": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN\nI'm so glad I was born. It seemed so rigbt\nfor me to come. And some day it will seem just\nrigbt for me to go. Maybe not just yet but some-\ntime. I dont know whether it matters much\nwhich side of mystery God feeds me on. lam\nfed. Here or there, nowhere or anywhere, lam\njoyous, a part of things, not to be skipped—an\natom but for which the stars would not hold\ntogether. That's enough for any sane man to\nknow about himself. Yet that's not all I know\nabout myself. I know God made no mistake\nmaking me. Or making you, either. Saint or\nscoundrel, making anybody. I can see other\nthings put aside for my entrance. The Lord said:\nGive him a show. So I was piloted to this earth-\nstar. Nobody specially welcomed me. My fa-\nther and mother were there. And a few others.\nSome may have been sorry. But luckily I was\nthere and in my baby way welcomed myself. I\ndid not rock in that first cradle and say nothing.\nThink of the journeys I had lived through and\nsung through before I got here. Think of gods\nand men and animals and suns and all sorts of\nsoul stuffs and body stuffs that compounded to\nproduce me. Is it any wonder lam stuck on my-\nself after that? I would not be paying great trib-\nute to what went before or to what is to come\nafter if I did not stand here now in great pride\nand declare the wonder of my flesh and the won-\nder of my spirit. I tell yon gods are all right.\nYes, and the law of gravitation is all right. Yes,"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "8", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.10", "texte": "I'M; SO GLAD I WAS BORN\n\nand Beethoven and Socrates and Lincoln were all\nright. Bnt how about me? Am I not just as\nmuch all right? Suppose an impossibility. Sup-\npose I had not been born. Suppose something\nhad sidetracked me. What would have happened\nto eternity? I dont see how Jesus could have\nbeen passed by. Nor do I see how I can be\npassed by. God had to do it. When the time\ncame for me God had no alternative. You might\nas well put off to-morrow as put off a man when\nhis day has come. So I got my size and shape. I\nam as big as anything because nothing big or\nlittle could get along without me. lam as beau-\ntiful as anything because nothing beautiful could\nbe beautiful without me. Do you call yourself a\nworm? That's all right if you mean to honor\nthe worm. But if you mean to abase yourself\nthen you are unjust to the worm. I never ask\nmyself: Do you know how little you are? lam\nalways nudging myself in the ribs and asking:\nDo you realize how big you are? Nor how bad\nI am. No. But how good I am. Nor how pos-\nsible it is for me to fail. No. But how im-\npossible it is for me not to succeed. So you see\nhow it is lam glad I was born. You may see how\nfar back my reasons go. You may see how far\nahead my reasons go. I have trailed no sable\nclouds of regret across my past. I drag no ob-\nstrucing burden of doubt up to the door of the\nfuture. I keep all ways open to all life. I have\nreceived an inheritance. It crowds me to reple-\ntion with riches. It builds on after all tradi-\ntional builders are done. It is fiery with extra-\nmortal inspirations. Which all comes with being"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "9", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.11", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nglad I was born. I hear people speak of being\nborn right. Was anybody ever born wrong? I\nwas born incomplete bnt I was born right. The\ncomplete invites the incomplete. I was not put\nhere finished. I was put here on the way. I\nwould be sorry if I thought I was born finished.\nA man born finished, his task is done. He could\nretire. That would be the mistake. But the\ncosmos never errs. The cosmos is process. It is\nnot end. So I'm glad I was born. Glad for the\ngrief. Glad for the joy. Satisfied to struggle.\nTo fall in hell and pick myself up in heaven. Sat-\nisfied with the devil in me and the god in me\nworking off their equal debts. I'm glad I was\nborn. I might go on using words forever saying\nthat. Yet my account would only then begin to\nbe paid. I'm so glad I was born.\nI'm so glad I was born. And yon are one of\nmy reasons for being glad. You were born, too.\nAnd I hope yon are as glad about me as I am glad\nabout you. I hope you are glad you were born.\nThey say this is a vale of tears. So it is. It is\nalso a vale of laughter. And laughter and tears\ngive life a single purpose. And laughter in tears\nis glorious. Ho you think I try to hide sorrow\nfrom myself? It sweetens the sap of the tree. I\ntake sorrow for the uses of joy. I dont let sor-\nrow get away with the field. I dont let the bad\nincrease and crowd out salvation. I'm so glad I\nwas born. There's so much work to do. And I'm\nglad I was born just this time. If I had been\ngiven a choice of all ages I would have chosen\njust this age. Not old Greece with all its art\nor old Rome with all its conquests or France in"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "10", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.12", "texte": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN\n\neighty-nine or America in seventy-six or sixty-\none. No age of Pericles for me. No Weimar.\nNo Granada. No Elizabethan era. No age of\nprivileged exceptions. Give me the Bowery and\nnineteen hundred six. Give me the democratic\nrule. God anticipated my whim and said:\nHumor him—it wont hurt. So I came along as\nwell prophesied as anybody. And I know it wont\nhurt. It will help. Do you suppose I mean noth-\ning? Then if I mean nothing God means noth-\ning and the stars mean nothing and the love in\nyour heart means nothing. lam not in doubt\nabout my power and my style. The earth wont\nbe just the same after lam done. It will be dif-\nferent and better. I am appointed to make it\nbetter. So are you. Do you not see that plainly\nindicated everywhere: So are you? I will not\nbray a path into history. Nor fill ostentatious\noffices. Nor be recognized as the supreme mas-\nter this or that of a profession. But the universe\ncant spare me. I, too, must mount the cross.\nThe universe needs my mediation. I know I was\nnot produced for nothing. It cost a heap to pro-\nduce me. I must catch up with an immense an-\ncestral obligation. I must make good for my cos-\nmic bed and board. I have got to prove that the\nfirst atom in faraway time knew what it was\nabout when it attracted and repulsed and\ndreamed towards me. I've got to justify all of\nmy ancestors and I've got to lay my plans so\nmy descendants will justify me. I must pass\neverything on with something added to it. Mu-\nsic with more music. Painting with more paint-\ning. Good books with more good books. All the"}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "11", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.13", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nnoble work of man with more noble work of\nmen added. No way turning the tide back. With\nhappiness enough in me to last all the? misery\nout. With light enough in me to last all the\nmisery out. With light enough in me to last all\nthe darkness out. With strength enough in me\nto last all the weakness out. Sad, too, for those\nin grief. But gladder, too, for those who are\nreprieved. Certain that whatever may come no\neclipsing harm can come. Certain that no rain-\ndrop in the universe can lose its way. Certain\nthat, we are jealously cared for though we do not\nalways see the hand that cares and though that\nhand is sometimes cruel. When I see how much\nthere is in my life to be glad for I forget that\nthere is anything in my life to be sorry for. I\nhave no quarrel with the barbarous minute the\nhour is so gentle. With the contrary day the\nyielding year is so conciliatory. With distorted\nages the symmetry of time is so perfect. I do\nnot feel like a waif lost somehow in chaos. lam\nat home in the midst of order. It seems worth\nwhile to live in a universe that is making, that\nhas not made, its title. The universe did not do\nall its work the first day. It said to itself: I'll\nalways leave something over for the workers to\ndo. It said to itself: Traubel will come some\nday: leave something over for Traubel. It said\nto itself: Or anybody, everybody, millions of\nbodies, will come some day: leave something over\nfor them all. The cosmos is left at loose ends\nhere and there. That was just meant for you.\nGo to work on it. I)out fret and growl. Dont\nsit down and cry and tell yourself that it's a"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "12", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.14", "texte": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN\n\nrather shameful cosmos anyway and might have\nbeen immaculate if it had chosen to. No. Be a\ncosmos yourself. Be a god or a first assistant\nor a fourth remove man or sombody and put in a\nbit of perfection over your own name. Get into\nthe nebulous push somewhere. Drag, shove, pull,\nlift: do something to add to the active substance\nof deity. I'm mighty glad so much was left over.\nI dont want to send in to the celestial court any\nexcuse for default. The lords god may say: We\nneed not worry: our brother is there. The lords\ngod know what they are about. They know their\nbrother can be relied on. They may sleep with-\nout bad dreams. Does it ever occur to you to\ngive the overworked gods a rest and get busy\nyourself? The heart's good will should come out\nof the heart with gladness on its lips. The song\nshould be glad it got done. It should lift its\ntones in praise. lam glad I got done. I lift my\ntones in praise. Creation belongs to gladness.\nCan anything that is sorry it was born give birth\nto life that will be glad it is alive? Laughter is\nthe headline and footnote and signature of crea-\ntion. When the dream to be a man became a\nman cosmos laughed. It was happy. It had dom\na creditable job. When a man somewhere lived\nlove's equal and final life with a woman some-\nwhere and a child somewhere flamed from the\nmutual fire, the sun laughed in kinder beams of\nlight and the starshine smiled over the cradled\nhope. Igo everywhere saying lam glad I was\nborn. It is such an innocent thing to say. It\nseems so like a child to say it. Yet I never heard\nyou say it. lam waiting to hear you say it. I"}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "13", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.15", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nwant to hear you say it once. Then I want to\nhear you say it always. Get in the habit of say-\ning it. So possessed you cant help saying it.\nNo matter who or what says no saying yes your-\nself. Saying it to yourself when you are alone,\nsaying it to us, saying it in silences, saying it out\nloud. No: I never heard you say it. I have heard\nyou read the riot act on creation. I have heard\nyou growl like a bear and squeak like a rat. I\nhave heard you tell how bad life is. Not how\ngood life is: no: how bad. How bad a toothache\nis. Not how good a sound tooth is: no: how bad.\nThere are bleak winds and consuming fires. I\nhave been frostbitten and burned. Why should\nyou make so much the most of misery and so\nmuch the least of health? Why should you enter\nall the charges and none of the credits? Why\nshould you not put in a figure or two on the\nother side and admit the balance of benefit?\nWhat's the use always going down stream? Why\nnot also go up with the flood? I am possessed\nwith gladness. I can see that all the worlds\ngroan and travail in laughter. I can see that the\nshadow laughs in the sun. I can see that the\nwrongs laugh in the right. I can see the greeds\nthat destroy laugh in the generosities that save.\nI can see all that is crooked in the social order\nlaughing itself into all that will be straight in\nthe social order. Over all I prevail: I, too, god\nby heritage, recreating the forever recreated\nstars. I, too, adding more gladness to the multi-\nplied gladness of time. I, too, pouring out of my\nlimitless stores limitless streams of rejoicing. I,\ntoo, an equal maker and sustainer of undoubted"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "14", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.16", "texte": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN\n\nlife. I, too, smiling back order into any chaos.\nI, too, always merry and rejuvenescent. I who\nam so glad I was born.\nI'm so glad I was born. I like to tell about\nthat. I like to say it to people who want to hear\nand to people who do not want to hear. I like to\ntell it to the man who is about to give up. I no-\ntice that he begins again. I like to tell it to the\nmusician who thinks his inspiration is all gone. I\nnotice that now he writes the finest songs ever. I\nlike to tell it to the lover who is not loved. I no-\ntice that he is afterwards satisfied to love, not\ncrazy to be ] oved. I like to tell it to the man who\nis robbed and to the man who robs. I notice that\nboth hear me right for both see that it is better to\nbe robbed than to rob. I like to tell it. to the sick.\nThe sick take hope. The sick, too, say: We are\nglad we were born. Glad to be born even if born\nto sickness. (Though no one is born to sickness.)\nAnd gladness is forever the footway of dreams. I\ncan go to the injustices of the world with my joy.\nI am not afraid that the injustices can refute my\njoy. For injustice never can refute justice. My\njubilant rhapsodies will prevail. They will go\nwhere nothing else will go. They will go where\narguments will not go and figures will not go.\nThey will go where logic will not go and law will\nnot go. They will go where the pride of faith will\nnot go and the humility of faith will not go. They\nwill go where the sun will not go and the rains\nwill not go. I say I'm glad I was born. I am\ngood seed for any ground. No soil could be so\nbad my seed is not good for it. I am good will\nfor any life. No life could be so poor my seed is"}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "15", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.17", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nnot rich for it. I ain the victorious day that\ncomes after every other day has come and failed.\nI am the courage that comes after every other\nresolution has come and failed. lam everything\ntrue that comes after everything false has come\nand failed. lam the conquering work of your\nbrains and your hands that comes after all other\nwork has come and failed. I'm so glad I was\nborn. Glad for the universe. What luck it was\nto the universe the day I was born. I feel that\nthe universe was full paid all old credits that day.\nI came. Ido not hesitate to tell anybody how\nmagnificent I am. Ido not try to divert atten-\ntion from myself by calling attention to the earth\nthat is so many miles through and the sun that\nis so many degrees hot. I let the devastators do\nthat. I see how much more than their less I\namount to. Earths and suns are only a meager\nper cent, to the plenty of my exaltation. You\ncant take earths and suns to your heart. But\nyou can take me to your heart. You cant take\nyour degrees and decorations to your heart. They\nalways fall short of solace and must fall short.\nBut you can take me to your heart. I never fall\nshort. You cant take your position in society to\nyour heart. You cant take your overcapitalized\nname to your heart. You cant take your riches\nto your heart. Oh, you cant take your riches, all\nyour thousands, all your houses, all your swell\npossessions, to your heart: and they cost you\nmuch. But you can take me to your heart, you\ncan take my eyes that see and ears that hear to\nyour heart, you can take my announcements of\nimmortal life to your heart: they never default,"}, {"page_pdf": 18, "page_imprimee": "16", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.18", "texte": "I'M SO GLAD I WAS BORN\n\nnever fall short: and they cost yon nothing. I\nguess I have said all I can say about that. I have\ngot so far in my raptures now I have got beyond\nwords. You must get the rest without words.\nI'm so glad I was born."}, {"page_pdf": 19, "page_imprimee": "17", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.19", "texte": "And so I have come to sing life: I have come to bring that\nwhich is hidden to the surface:\nAnd so I have been set apart to deal honestly with man\nand woman and sex and suffer for it:\nAnd so I have been chosen from all the rest as the one who\ncan say what the rest think and desire and dare not\njustify:\nAnd so I declare for them: for the discredited dreams: for\nthe obscured purposes: declare for them and invite those\nwho are angry to take it out of me:\nAnd so I stand about where the most people are and issue\nmy challenge and wait for the result:\nFeeling back of me holding me up the brave beautiful average\nmen and women mv comrades who look to me to serve\nv\nthem:\nComing into the big world with my little challenge: receiving\nmy cues from what is suppressed in others:\nCasting my uncompromising nos into the faces of the rulers\nof the earth: defying their fences and their written\ncompacts."}, {"page_pdf": 20, "page_imprimee": "18", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.20", "texte": "PANKHURST\nPankhurst. The world has been saying that\nword under its breath and over its breath. You\nhave been saying it. The papers have been say-\ning it. It has been on the lips of professors and\nagitators. It has been made fun of and been\nshuddered over. Maybe you have thought it was\nthe name of a woman. So it was. But it was\nmore than that. It was the name of a revolution.\nAs the name of a woman it would mean nothing\nin particular. As the name of a revolution it be-\ncomes prophecy and history. That's why the\npeople who put the woman in jail found that they\ncouldn't put the revolution in jail. And if you\ncant forcibly feed a woman how much less likely\nyou are to forcibly feed a revolution. That sin-\ngle word of two syllables. It cuts into prejudice\nlike the blade of a knife. A woman's name. Say\nit over to yourself. At first it may sound com-\nmonplace. But keep on. Say it over and over.\nIt will become marching armies. It will become\nmartial music. It will trumpet you to vast vic-\ntories. Women don't need to say woman now.\nThey only need to say Pankhurst. You tell\nme I am talking of an arrogant woman only\na few feet high who is bent upon destruction.\nYes: lam talking of her. She is the gateway\nthrough which I pass. But lam also talking of\nthe revolution which is so high no vision can\nreach its summit. Pankhurst is a dream come\ntrue. Pankhurst is an ideal in action. This"}, {"page_pdf": 21, "page_imprimee": "19", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.21", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nlaw. She's inveterate. She asserts, she sum-\nmons, she demands. Yet she's calm. She: the\nmother incarnate. She's the maternal made rev-\nolution. She's sex. Women don't all recognize\nher. They are dubious. But she proceeds and\nsays nothing. She asks no favors and gives none.\nShe dont apologize. She asks nobody's forgive-\nness. She makes no palsying explanations. She\ngoes on and on. Just as gravitation goes on and\non. Just as time goes on and on. My eyes never\nstop with the woman. I pass to that by which\nshe is fortified. Listen to what she says. Do\nyou belittle her message ? Return: listen again:\nweigh her grave confessions. Every word she\nsays is the word of revolution. Dont you think\nyou've been warned enough? Get your impudent\nproperty out of the way. That infernal property.\nIt interrupts the vision. But for it we'd go\nstraight to our end. Pankhurst. I heard her\nspeak the other night. It was in a hall. Thou-\nsands of people were there. She was on the big\nstage in the half dark. She spoke to us. The\ngreat building disappeared. The woman who\nspoke and those who were spoken to disappeared.\nI was left alone with an idea. The pure, the\nuiidefiled, idea. Revolution. Are you afraid\nnow? Is the mother in you afraid—or the\nfather? Or is the child in you afraid? Do you\nshrink back with horror from this issue? You\ndare to acknowledge mothers. But are you afraid\nof the maternal? You dare to say woman. But\nare you afraid to say revolution? Woman is\noffering no petition. She is not saying her\nprayers. She is not humbly beseeching anybody"}, {"page_pdf": 22, "page_imprimee": "20", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.22", "texte": "PANKHURST\n\nfor anything. Woman is vehemently afoot full\narmed marching victoriously across the earth ex-\nacting tribute making light of the phantom ob-\nstacles that formerly drove her back into the\nlambpit. If I say Pankhurst I say all of you not\none of you. The great auditorium disappeared.\nI was alone somewhere with an idea. Her\nphrases are the least of her. Revolution is the\nmost of her. What she was there before my eyes\nmaking a speech was as nothing compared with\nwhat she became to me in the unseen and the\nsilences. I am awed. The revolution becomes\nflesh. The revolution becomes woman. She\nsailed across the ocean in a ship. She put her\nname on the ship's register. Revolution came in\nanother name. And the registry registered it in\nanother name. Then they didn't want her to\nland. Some of them. They didn't know her by\nher real name but even as it was they felt that\nher ominous entrance promised no good. Revo-\nlution waited for revolution. Woman waited for\nwoman. Have you gone about all these years\nsupposing woman wouldn't finally strike her\nblow? She waited till it was time. The woman's\nday is here. The man's day, too: for man can\nhave no day without woman nor woman without\nman. Many of you still tremble. You'd rather\nshe hadn't come. But it had to happen. The\nrevolution was due. You harbored it under dis-\nguise. She set it out in the open. You didn't\nwant to acknowledge how big round it was. She\nrefused to hide the fact from itself. You were\nthe disciples of revolt. Or the partners. Or the\nrevolutionary faithfuls. But she was more. She"}, {"page_pdf": 23, "page_imprimee": "21", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.23", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nwas revolution incarnate. She was the godmade\nwoman sent to earth to proclaim the future.\nThere you have it. Not a mere woman. Though\na mere woman is no more to he made light of than\na mere man or a mere cosmos. Yet not a mere\nwoman. That, surely: then infinitely more than\nthat. Revolution. Pankhurst.\nPankhurst. The shadow on the horizon. The\nblack darkness gathering overhead and around.\nThe threatening forefinger of fate. The menace\nof maternity. The uprising of a sex. The com-\nrade woman challenges the wife woman. It must\nbe resented. We must throw back the waves of\nthe sea. Here is another revolt against property.\nThese people too put people first. How mon-\nstrous. To put a woman or a man first. To\nput a mother first. We must teach mothers their\nplace. And people too: we must teach them their\nplace. The death of a man or a woman: what is\nthat? But burning down a house: that is an\nattack on civilization. These new women want\neverything. They treat husbands as if they were\nno more than men. They treat property as if it\nwas dirt under their feet. They say nothing mat-\nters but hearts and love. Well: hearts and love\nare not bad if you keep them where hearts and\nlove belong. But if you bring hearts and love\ninto politics or economics then you are invading\na forbidden sphere. We've got to set back the\nclock. Time's going too fast. A man said: I\ndont like it. I asked him: Dont like what? He\nsaid: This woman business. I asked: What\nwoman business? He said: Woman in politics.\nI asked: Dont you think they're capable of poli-"}, {"page_pdf": 24, "page_imprimee": "22", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.24", "texte": "PANKHURST\n\ntics ? He exclaimed: My God, yes: too capable!\nI asked: Then why do you kick? He said: Be-\ncause if they go into politics they'll make this a\nwoman's world and I dont want to live in a wo-\nman's world. That's it. When the woman be-\ncomes real they dont want to live in a woman's\nworld. Just as profit-believing people don't want\nto live in a man's world when a real man appears.\nIf this is not a mother's world whose world is it?\nThe man said: I dont want to live in a woman's\nworld. Just as profit-believing people dont want\nfrom their own side: We don't want to live in\na man's world. • Yet if this is not a father's world\nwhose world is it? You dont want the world the\nwomen will make it possible for real fathers to\nlive in. Yon don't want the world the men will\nmake it possible for real mothers to live in. You\nsay: Half a world's a good enough world for me.\nYou say: A whole world's too big for me. Then\nyou hear the reply. Then you see the reply.\nWords reply. Mobs reply. Conflagration re-\nplies. Quarrels, battles, reply. This still water\nof man's peace has been ruffled by woman's tem-\npest, Things were going on so good. Then\nthese sexless rebels had to come. Just as money\nsays to people in the economic sphere: Things\nwere so serene: then you had to come. Yes,\nsomething always has to come. Every time or-\nthodoxy settles itself for a long tenure some-\nthing has to come. Just as clear days are getting\nused to themselves stormy days come. We had\nthings arranged just about right. It wasn't ideal.\nWe acknowledge imperfections. But on the\nwhole it was about right. Woman was just about"}, {"page_pdf": 25, "page_imprimee": "23", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.25", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nwhere she ought to be. Labor too was just about\nwhere it ought to be. Then something happened.\nSomething always does happen. Labor got to\ngrowling. And now woman's got to growling.\nWoman. Haven't we given woman the choicest\ntidbits of life? And yet she says no. She says\nthat would be all right if something else was first\nall right. That something else is her freedom.\nIs her claim to herself. She says that comes\nfirst. Why : that's just what labor is saying.\nWe've got to fight labor. We've got to fight\nher. It's in fact one quarrel with two wings.\nAnd we'll crush them with one answer. We've got\nto or this world'll go to pot straightaway. If it's\ngot so that a man's got a right to be a man\nthrough a woman's right to be a woman. If it's\ngot so that a woman's got a right to be a woman\nthrough a man's right to be a man. If that's so\nthen I want to know the reason why. This whole\nliberty stuff is nonsense. Don't you see how it\nis ? My God! If this keeps up the first thing you\nknow this'll be a liberty world. Look at it hon-\nest. Dont you see it yourself? Reason it\nout in your own mind. Every other considera-\ntion will be set aside. Democracy will run homes,\nbusiness, states, everything. Horrible. This will\nbe a liberty world. And I dont want to live in a\nliberty world. Pankhurst.\nPankhurst. When I hear you say that word\nI can tell what you think of yourself. I dont\nhave to ask you for other evidences. Whether\nyou lift your voice or drop it. That tells the\nwhole story. Whether there is any mother in\nyour voice. Whether there is any love in it."}, {"page_pdf": 26, "page_imprimee": "24", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.26", "texte": "PANKHURST\n\nYou're not dealing here with a person. You're\ndealing with a race. The person comes and goes.\nRut the new day; it comes and never goes. Now\nand then the world names a new star. All the\nglasses are lifted towards the revealed luminary.\nThere's the clamor of those who see it and those\nwho half see it and those who dont see it at all.\nYou cant know Pankhurst by reading the per-\nsonals in the newspapers. You cant get ac-\nquainted with her by taking the stories of her\nlife for what they literally say. She brings all\nthat woman can bring. Then she brings what\nwas before and what is after. If you have the\ngreat person theory you'll not understand why\nshe is here and what she has accomplished. But\nif you have the great race theory the clouds'll\nwash out of the skies and you'll see the sun. We\nhave long said: Man shall hold no property in\nman. The women come along now and say:\nMan shall hold no property in woman. Then\nIgo farther. Igo to the end. I say: Man shall\nhold no property in property. What are you\nlistening for? It's a great voice. Women are\nnot primarily voters. They are women. They\nare sex. They are mothers. The maternal is\nspeaking up for itself. Votes for women. That's\nthe mere surface of the stream. Souls for wo-\nmen. Bodies for women. That's the far cry.\nEvery woman has a father in her. Every man has\na mother in him. That which has been confined.\nThat shall be released. That which has been re-\nfused woman. That she demands. That which\nwoman has refused herself. That she will re-\nsume. A great flame lit in a vast shadow. That's"}, {"page_pdf": 27, "page_imprimee": "25", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.27", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nwhat it all is. This little woman overflowing\nwith calm vehemence: what is she? Just the\nmother of two daughters? Just the wife of a\ndead husband? Just a prisoner in British jails?\nThat's the average of her. But that's not the\nmost of her. She reaches out over the earth.\nShe ceases to be a person. She becomes a pres-\nence. She who can be measured becomes the\nimmeasurable. My eyes sweep her inspiring hor-\nizons. I follow her lead. Let her go where her\nfeet and her wings take her. Down anywhere,\nup anywhere. Resisted no matter how, welcomed\nno matter where. Every mile she travels is sa-\ncred to a common trust. Dedicated to a uni-\nversal purpose. Are you skulking? Do you\nworry the years away with quibbles? Rather\nthat every atom of property should go up in\nsmoke if the people are left. Rather anything\nthan that the soul should pay the bills of prop-\nerty. When men are victims you say: We are\nsaved. When dollars are victims you say: We\nare ruined. You can brush aside a man or a\nwoman. But you cant alter the will of the fates.\nYou can turn your back to the sunshine. But\nyou cant stand in the way of the sun. You can\ntake the splash of the sea. But you cant stop\nit from rolling up the shore. You can lock your-\nself in your house. But you close the rest of\nus out. When the man comes what has the wo-\nman got to say? When the woman comes what\nhas the man got to say? The answer of the man\nis found in the woman. The answer of the wo-\nman is found in the man. The woman has the\nfloor. She asks her pertinent impertinent ques-"}, {"page_pdf": 28, "page_imprimee": "26", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.28", "texte": "PANKHURST\n\ntions. She asks whys and wherefores. You ex-\nhibit your tax receipts in reply. She asks you\nwhat you are. You answer by showing her what\nyon have. You think you shine through what\nyou own. Far from that. You can only shine\nthrough what you dont own. This little woman\nhas made all your big fortunes look mean. This\nlittle idea has made all your big theories look\ncheap. Everything else always does look insig-\nnificant when a real man or woman comes round.\nWhen vou shook hands with this woman vou\n*/ tu\nmore than touched the palms of life and death.\nWhen you looked into her eyes you read more\nthan the tablets of Sinai. When you heard her\nspeak words you listened to more than the music\nof waters and winds. When you measured her\nand weighed her you tested more than the sizes\nand shapes of starry universes. The woman\ncomes. Oh man: what has the woman in you\ngot to say of it? The man comes. Oh woman:\nwhat has the man in you got to say of it? Pank-\nhurst."}, {"page_pdf": 29, "page_imprimee": "27", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.29", "texte": "I have met men and women and men and women: they are\nall sizes: yet they are all one size:\nI have never so far met a man or a woman little enough\nfor me to be arrogant with:\nI have never so far met a man or a woman big enough for\nme to humble myself to:\nMen and women dont seem to me made to be figured upon:\nthey are made to be immeasurable:\nThey dont seem to me made to be accepted or rejected: they\nare made to be my comrades:\nWe are all so much alike I dont see how we could be\ndifferent:\nWe are all so different I don't see how we could fail to be\nalike:\nA few horizons added to a man's dream: do they make one\nman better than another?\nA few inches added to a man's waist: do they make one\nman superior to another?\nFrom way up these are such minor matters: the wave drops\naway in the sea:\nFrom way up our castes and borderlines are such minor\nmatters: they lapse away in the soul:\nFor we are in the end not masters and slaves, not up and\ndown: we are only brothers and sisters."}, {"page_pdf": 30, "page_imprimee": "28", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.30", "texte": "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF YOUR SKIN?\nWhat is the color of your skin? Are you a\nchild of the sun or a child of the snow? Do\nyou come with red in your face? Or is there a\nshadow across your head? Are you the white child\nof a black mother or the black child of a white\nmother ? I see your brown red right hand. How\nwarm it feels to me. I look into your glowing\nequatorial eyes. How like being led to fathers\nand mothers that is. You bring me north south\neast west. You guide yourselves to me. You\ndistribute me among yourselves. lam your child\nno matter how. Your child no matter where.\nThere are seas everywhere. But there is no sea\nbetween us. There are interfering miles of space\nand hours of time. But they dont break us from\neach other. I was born of my mother and here\nI am. You were born of your mothers and there\nyou are. The earth was born of the sun. The\nsun was born of what? I mix up the elements.\nI come out one place. You come out another\nplace. From the same mother womb. From\nthe same father seed. To the same brother earth.\nDo you hold a noose over me? Or drop a sword\nfrom above as I pass? Or shoot me down in\nmy tracks? Or pass laws of which I'm the vic-\ntim? Or lock your housedoors when I knock?\nMy credentials are the same as yours: no better\nthan yours. lam the harvest of the same plant-\ning :no more than that harvest. Like you I have\none life to live on one earth before I pass on. Do\nI stand on my icy heritage and freeze the heat"}, {"page_pdf": 31, "page_imprimee": "29", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.31", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nout of your love? Remember the stream: go up\nwith it to its sources: go down with it to the sea.\nEvery atom dancing in the light or clouded by the\nstorm advances and retreats in perfect equity and\nperfect order. Dear prouds and humbles: by\nGod I'm yours and you're mine. Do you believe\nthat anything can take you from me or take\nme from you? I meet you. I read about you.\nlam told all the terrible truths. But everything\ndraws me nearer. Nothing drives me away. If\nyou could be less to me than I am to myself then\nI would have to be more to myself than I could\nbe to you. That would violate my democracy.\nThat would be setting one thing above another.\nWhen I elevate myself with all I am a democrat.\nWhen I lift myself above the rest I am a tyrant.\nListen to me. Yon who are reading what I write.\nMaybe you are black. Maybe you are pink or\nwhite or vellow. Maybe vou are between or\n*J tJ V\nacross. All that goes with maybe. But when\nyou are my brother there is no maybe to it. If I\ncould look at any man-and not see his mother as\nmy own I'd be false to all motherhood. If I\ncould look at any woman and not see her father as\nmy own I'd be false to all fatherhood. I'm not\nsatisfied with one mother. I want all mothers.\nNor with one father. I want all fathers. Nor\nwith my children. I want all children. I'm not\nsatisfied with one color. I want all colors. Nor\nwith one race. I want all races. Nor with one\nlanguage. I want all languages. My hunger is\nfiercely universal. I'm not fed till I've eaten at\nevery table. I can only know one woman by\nknowing all women. I can only know one peo-"}, {"page_pdf": 32, "page_imprimee": "30", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.32", "texte": "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF YOUR SKIN\n\npie by knowing all peoples. What is the color\nof my skin? What is the sound to the song?\nWhat is the water to the ocean? That's what\nthe rest of me is to my exterior. That's what\nthe substance in me is to my show. That's what\nmy foundations are to my rooftree. There at the\nbottom we are together. And at the top: there\nwe are together. We begin together and end to-\ngether. But we are alienated in the journey.\nWhen we start out in the morning we say good\nby. When we meet again at night we ask: How\ndo you do? What wrenched us apart in the strug-\ngle of the pilgrimage? Why should those who\nare friends before and friends again after be ene-\nmies while they travel? I say to the other—col-\nored peoples: You have to be my brothers whe-\nther you want to or not, thank God. Ho they say\nto me: You have to be my brother whether you\nwant to or not, thank God? What is the color\nof your soul ? What is the color of your skin ?\nWhat is the color of your skin? I see. You\nare a nigger. You are a damned dago. You are\nthe man on the other side of the wall. The man\nover somewhere. The yellow peril. The igno-\nrant dirty emigrant. The two for a quarter six\nfor a half dollar mill slave. There is a border\nline between us. There are incomes between us.\nThere is a whole code of manners between us.\nYou are the godforsaken polack. You are the\nhooknosed jew. You are the monkeyfaced irish-\nman. You are the beerguzzled deutscher. I call\nyou names. I can't see you. You are in the next\nyard. The stars look just as well from the next\nyard. But I insist upon the exclusive astronomy"}, {"page_pdf": 33, "page_imprimee": "31", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.33", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nof my own garden. I smell your stale clothes. I\nam choked by the aromas of your foul kitchens.\nWould you like your sister to marry an african?\nI'm not fussy. I'm only a man. A white man.\nI don't draw lines ferninst you. I only draw\nlines in favor of myself. Do you mean to say\nyou think these ignoramuses as good as yourself ?\nDo you tell me that you're no better than the\nherd? Nonsense. There's the nietzschean word\nfor it. The average man is the herd. The awk-\nward big-fisted loon. The idiot crowd. The peo-\nple everybody kicks. The folks everybody de-\nspises. The men women children you wouldn't\ninvite into your home. I use them. Ride them.\nMake money off them. But that's all I want of\nthem. Just the robber money. Not the man love.\nLook at them filing to work tired to start with.\nLook at them filing back from work like a funeral\nnearly dead to end with. They're a rum lot.\nThey're worth a hundred cents on the dollar and\nup in the labor market. They're worth about ten\ncents on the dollar and under 011 the social plane.\nMy God! but they're a scabby bunch. It makes\nme sick to see them. Look at them as they work\ntheir treadmill. Don't they give themselves\naway? Right and left, north and south, look\nwhere you choose: they are the slobbering to-\nbaccoey stay-behinds and passbacks of the dump-\nheap. Every mother's son of 'em useful to me\nmaybe but useless to themselves. Down in their\nluck, to be sure. But sentenced for life just the\nsame. The jackjohnsons of society. The refuse\nof birth and death. The clods. The dullards.\nThe heavyfooted and heavyheaded bowlegs and"}, {"page_pdf": 34, "page_imprimee": "32", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.34", "texte": "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF YOUR SKIN\n\nknock-knees. The slave asses yoked to an in-\nescapable bnrden. Who are you that yon dont\nbelong? Are you of us few or of their very\nmany? Are you of the interest bearing rent\ncollecting profit class or do you fester in these\nmaggoty bottoms of fate? Stay where you fall\nno matter how far down you are. Dont try to\nclimb. We shove you all over the cliff again.\nWe throw dust in your eyes. We confuse you in\nclouds of verbiage. We disarm you. We have\nlaws to make you afraid. We have creeds to\nmake you hopeless. We have poets who kill you\nwith pensive despairs. Do you dare aspire to\nanything? Stay where you are in your deep\nmud. There is no above to vou. No bevoiid.\nNo ease. No dreamworld. You were condemned\nbefore you were born. You remain condemned\nwhile you live. And you will continue con-\ndemned when you become the dung in the barn-\nyard at last. A woman heard me expressing my\nrace faith. She asked me: \"How would you\nlike to have a grandchild with a black skin?\"\nThat was it. That was the whole devilish poison-\nous story. The entire problem prejudice in a\nnutshell. She didn't ask: How would you like\nto have a grandchild with a black soul? That\nwould have meant something. But she wasn't\ninterested in souls. She was interested in skins.\nHow would I like to have a grandchild with a\nblack skin. What is the color of your skin?\nWhat is the color of your skin? Maybe you\nhave a black skin and a white heart. Maybe you\nhave a white skin and a black heart. I dont\nknow. We talk about the yellow peril when we"}, {"page_pdf": 35, "page_imprimee": "33", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.35", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nthink of Asia. And we talk about the brown\nperil when we think of Italy. And we talk about\nthe black peril when we think of South Carolina.\nBut all of us are afraid to talk of the white peril.\nI see no perils. My arms reach out to all. I\nwant the Chinaman to possess himself of the\nearth if he's an earth man. Let him freely pass\nright and left testing himself and us. Dont put\nup pennywise barriers built 011 poundfoolish\nlaws. Bather do anything than stop your fra-\nternities short of the total census of man. Every\ninterfering sea, every contradicting statute, every\ncounterchecking prejudice, every adventure in\nmoney-making, that nullifies the international in-\nference is a slap in the face of brotherhood.\nDamn up the human stream. Then you damn\ndown the soul. The old negro mammy in Georgia\nasked me as I left: Will you do something for\nme? I said: Yes, if you'll do something for\nme? She asked: Will you kiss me good by? I\nsaid: Yes—on condition that you kiss me good\nby. I would only be worthy to take if I was\nworthy to give. I'd say to all the world: I would\nonly be worthy of loving if I was worthy of being\nloved. I would only be worthy of being an Amer-\nican if I was worthy of being a Jap. I would\nonly be worthy of serving if I was worthy of\nbeing served. I would only cease being a peril\nif I ceased calling others perilous. How could I\nbe worthy of being a white man if I was too good\nto be a black man? Ethiopia cries out loud to\nScandinavia, India cries out loud to England.\nAll the peoples cry out loud from everywhere to\nall the peoples. There is no peril in peoples."}, {"page_pdf": 36, "page_imprimee": "34", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.36", "texte": "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF YOUR SKIN\"\n\nThere is only peril in you and me. There is no\nperil in anything that brings any of us together.\nThere is only peril in what keeps us or drives us\napart. Igo with mothers fathers children. Igo\nwith birth and death. Igo with dreaming and be-\nlieving. Igo with mixing and mating. These are\nthe same everywhere. The same with you black\nand me white. The same with my skin burnt to\nfire and the same with your skin frozen to the\nwhiteness of snow. The same with duskies and\npalefaces. I dont go with maps. With geogra-\nphies. With diplomacies. With kingdoms and\nrepublics. With genius aristocracy pauperism.\nWith success and the main chance. I only go\nwith people. With folks. And with them I go\nanywhere they go. Into any hell or any heaven.\nInto any hope or any despair. With people.\nWhere people go I may go too. But where peo-\nple are refused there lam shut out. The woman\nasked me: Would you like to have a grandchild\nwith a black skin? She brought her question to\nthe wrong court. She should not have addressed\nit to me. She should have taken it to God.\nWould God like to have a grandchild with a\nblack skin? It's as though we asked God: What\nwould you think of yourself if you happened to\nbe black or red? What is the color of your soul?\nWhat is the color of your skin?"}, {"page_pdf": 37, "page_imprimee": "35", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.37", "texte": "O you despairers of destiny! O you plunderers of time!\nyou make a great noise in the silences:\nAll that you need to do is to open your eyes: that is the\nsecret: look:\nYou come to me; I cant look for you: I can only say, look:\nI cant give you a free pass to the promised land: I can\nonly say look: if you only look you will need no pass:\nO, why do you bury your face in the dust? get up: lift\nyourself high enough to look over your own head:\nEverything you love is yours."}, {"page_pdf": 38, "page_imprimee": "36", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.38", "texte": "YOU WRITERS\nYou writers who are trying to write. You ar-\ntists anywhere who are trying for art. You who\nmay be successful but have not arrived. You who\nhold yourselves in a class apart play the\ngame of temperament. You fools, liars, orna-\nmenters, hypocrites, prostitutes, of words. You\nwho wouldn't sell your bodies but who sell your\nsouls. You who have taken to the street for\nprofit. You who hunger for flattery and thirst\nfor fame. You betrayers of the people. You\nwho put words on yourselves as chains. You\nwho are goods to the highest bidder. All of you.\nI have something to say to you. You may have\nsaid it to yourself. But I'm going to say it any-\nhow. Both for your good and mine. Something\nserious. Something that goes to the root. I'll\ntalk right out. For somehow you who might be\nare not. You to whom a trust is given have be-\ntrayed it. I believe in the sac redness of the word.\nI want words to be gods, paradises, service. I\nwant words to live. I want words to be creators.\nSome writers are so vital they cant say and or\nthe or but without thrilling you. There are some\nwriters so dead they cant say immortality with-\nout a funeral. I want the living word. How\ncan I get it? By using words instead of being\nused by words. By speaking out of my heart\ninstead of out of books. By not trying to write.\nBy living. Some authors write as if they never\nhad been born. They say: I did my best. I say:\nBather your worst. When you talk to me face"}, {"page_pdf": 39, "page_imprimee": "37", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.39", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nto face you are worth every minute. When you\ntalk to me on paper in a hook you are a waste\nof time. What happens to a man in the period\nbetween what he feels and what he does? What\ncatastrophe occurs? Why does he go to smash\nin the process? He is so alive in what he hu-\nmanly and so dead in what he professionally\nsays. What is the poison that comes between?\nMoney? Prestige? Or is it some false principle\nof art? Do your words, do your colors, do your\ntones, take you away from rather than towards\nyour inspiration? You try too hard. You\nshouldn't try at all. An artist's sketches are won-\nderful. His finished canvases are commonplace.\nHis sketches are impromptu. His paintings are\ndesigned. He did the sketches. The paintings\ndid him. He didn't try in the sketches. He was\nall try in the paintings. You writers who are\ntrying to write. Are you trying to live ? I admit\nyour display. I admit your phrases. But you?\nDo I admit you? Yes. But not the you you\nget into your books. My words belong where\nmy heart is. lam not willing to feel one thing\nand write another. Let me be the servant of mv\nemotions. Down below all my words is all my\nlife. Rooted in the soil. Established in the\nunalterable laws. Dedicated to the supreme in-\nferences. If my words dont say that they lie\nabout me. lam the fact the words are supposed\nto report. If they dont express me Igo unrep-\nresented. I dont try to be anything. I just let\nmyself be whatever results. It would be as bad\nfor me to force myself to be something as for me\nto force myself not to be something. There are"}, {"page_pdf": 40, "page_imprimee": "38", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.40", "texte": "YOU WRITERS—\n\nso many artists and there is so little art. There\nare so many writers and there is so little writing.\nThere is so much painting and there are so few\npictures. We are overclothed. Our wardrobe\nis rich. We are jeweled. We are placed on\nthrones. But what are we anyhow? We are\nhumbug kings. We are fraud citizens. What\nwe are not we are. What we are we are not.\nThe same thing which makes some men look for\nsocial prestige makes an author look for literary\nprestige. We give up the same things for it. We\nlie and duck and play sycophant for it. We fool\npeople. We make black white and white black.\nWe trifle away serious things. And we are seri-\nous over trifles. All for what? In order to ap-\npear to be what we are not. We are masquer-\naders. Words are the tools of our burglary.\nWords are the cant of our religion. Words are\nthe sophistry of our law. Words are the fog we\nlose our way in. We'd be safe if it wasn't for\nwords. Words are our peril. Words are the ob-\nstacles in the way. If you want to be under-\nstood dont talk. Whatever you have to say,\ndont trust it to words. Try not to try. Cut\nloose. Throw the reins on their necks. I see\nmany books. And yet there is only one book. I\nsee the broad highway and the countless journey-\ners. Where are they all going? The girl looks\nat herself in the glass. She wants to be pretty.\nA little paint and powder is added here and\nthere. A few words are added here and there.\nIt's all the same thing. You bribe, steal, seduce.\nYou make use of words not for the purpose of be-\ning true but for the purpose of being beautiful."}, {"page_pdf": 41, "page_imprimee": "39", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.41", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nShow: that's what you want. Distinction: that's\nwhat you want. To he considered clever. To be\na best seller. To go into many editions. To be\ninvited to lecture in colleges. To be asked to\nwrite for the magazines. To be in demand. That's\nwhat you use words for. So as to be listed in\nthe literary four hundred. So as to be set apart\nsomehow. You want to be extraordinary. It has\ngot so the writer stands above and condescends.\nHe don't stand below and look up. He regards\nthe people as pawns. He'll use them in the game.\nBut he won't concede their equality. He plans\nfor so much a year. He figures at receptions.\nThe colleges give him titles. He dont want to\nbe average. He wants to be exceptional. So he\ntries to write. He gives his writing little pulls\nand twists so as to adjust it to the market. He\ntakes words off here and puts words on there be-\ncause he wants his disguise to be complete and\nimpressive. Go look at the books in libraries.\nThey are the endless roster of the dead. Most\nmen bury themselves in books. Only occasionally\ndoes a man resurrect himself in a book. He\nmakes his writing the parade. It marches with\nbrass bands. Everybody knows it's coming. And\neverybody knows of it after it's gone. But noth-\ning can make it live. Active as it seems to be\nit's still a burial. You who have tried so hard\nand have not succeeded may yet learn that he\nonly succeeds who dont try at all. When you\ntry—that means that you're up against it. When\nyou've got to engineer. When you've got to\nwatch your ps and qs. When you're afraid you'll\nnot know how to turn a sudden corner. Then"}, {"page_pdf": 42, "page_imprimee": "40", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.42", "texte": "YOU WHITERS—\n\nyou're no use. Then you're firing in the air.\nYou're to discover how to win without caring\nwhether you win or lose. You're to find out that\nyou'll arrive without worrying over the process.\nHe is surest who dont ask for pledges. Words\nare a fatality. You writers who are trying to\nwrite.\nYou writers who are trying to write. You\nwho'd do anything rather than be thought of no\nimportance. You who'd murder the language or\nrape it or rob it or do anything to it rather than\nnot make your point. You: what have Ito say\nto you? Just what I have been saying. Go on\nwith your dance. Get what you can out of the\ndisgraceful scramble. Poke your heads into the\nslop trough. Let me paraphrase the man who\nadvised his boy to get money. Make books.\nHonestly if you can. But make books. Try\nfor points. If you cant make them on the square\nmake them on the foul. Try to write. Dont try\nto think. Dont try to love. Dont try to serve.\nTry to write. Get a reputaion. Never mind\nyour character. Do everything you can to con-\nvince everybody that you are what you know you\nare not. A man has to make a living. Therefore\nhe has to do what he has to do to get it. So you\nhave to be notorious. Therefore you have to do\nwhat you have to do to get notoriety. If you\nhave to murder your mother to get success mur-\nder your mother. What's one mother to one suc-\ncess? If you have to starve children in factories\nto get success starve children. What are a few\nchildren out of so many? You are the spokes-\nman of life and death. You can be hired for so"}, {"page_pdf": 43, "page_imprimee": "41", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.43", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nmuch per to aid and abet the orthodoxies. Sell\nyour soul. What is one soul, even if it's your\nsoul, to one success? Your words. You can\nturn them into nugget values. You can set a\nhigh figure on them. And you can hypnotize\nthe purchaser. Not a word without pay. This\nis a world and a time of bargain and sale. Make\nthe world pay. Watch the market. See what it\nwants. Give it that. Try to conform. Try to\nwrite not your soul's words or your heart's words\nbut trade's words. Give the verbal stock market\nall the preferences. Everybody else sells what-\never he can. You have words. Words are vour\nt/\nonly treasure. Why shouldn't you sell words?\nAnd you will sell the words that are according to\nfashion not the words that are according to truth.\nJust as the rhyming lilting poets write the words\nnot of faith but of formula. If the issue is be-\ntween the rules and the exception the rule has to\ngo. Write book words. And write pretty words.\nEven if the ugly word says more than the pretty\nword choose the pretty word. Be an artist. Work\nfor the art result. Whatever you do, dont work\nfor the human result. Keep your eye on alpha-\nbets and words and sentences. Dont let your\neye wander off to life. If you give your spirit\nany liberties it's liable to play the bull in the\nchina shop and smash your fine wares into a\ntragic litter. You want to know whether I'd\nseriously advise such treason. I say yes. Why\nnot? You are an artist. You are not a man.\nYou want me to price you by art standards. You\ndont want me to price you by human standards.\nThe art standard might just as well be crooked as"}, {"page_pdf": 44, "page_imprimee": "42", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.44", "texte": "YOU WEITEES—\n\nstraight. It might just as well be a whore as a\nwoman. It might just as well grovel and snuff\nand wallow as aspire and soar. The crook says:\nDont judge me by the human standards. He\nwants to be judged by the crook standards. And\nfrom the crook standards why shouldn't a crook\nbe a crook? The writer says: Dont judge me\nby the human standards. He wants to be judged\nby the writer standards. And from the writer\nstandard why shouldn't a writer be a writer?\nArtist or crook. Crook or artist. It's the same.\nPeople think it wrong to steal money. But they\ndont think it wrong to steal words. The only\nword that belongs to the writer is the word that\nbelongs where it's put. If it dont belong there\nthen it's stolen. It's far worse to play false with\nwords than to play false with money. Money?\nThe next dollar may purify the money account.\nWords? Words may be prostituted forever. But\ndont let that discourage you. Make good even\nif you have to make bad. I cant see any other\nway out for you. Let the worst in you do its\nbest for you. Dont be too squeamish. Remem-\nber that it's all dirty business anyway. Every\nstep you take is a surrender. Down, down, into\nbottomless confusions you sink yourself. You\nhaven't grown into art. You have built yourself\ninto art. You haven't written out of people and\nlife. You have written out of scholars and books.\nYou have committed in words all the felonies of\nthe calendar. But because they are words you\nhaven't felt guilty. You say: They are only\nwords. Why should a man be expected to be\nscrupulous with words? You might as well say"}, {"page_pdf": 45, "page_imprimee": "43", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.45", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nof love: Love is only love. And you might as\nwell ask: Why should a man be expected to be\nscrupulous with love? If the right word pays\nuse it. But if it's more profitable to use the\nwrong word, use that. You express every hor-\nror of the white slave traffic. But what shall we\nsay of the word slave traffic? There are houses\nof bondage. And there are books of bondage.\nWriters say words. But only a writer rare among\nwriters says the word. Who is the criminal ? The\nman who steals goods or the man who violates a\nthought. What are you doing with words ? Giv-\ning them to life or giving them to death? Mak-\ning them counterfeit or keeping them genuine?\nNot trying to get life from words? But rather\ngiving life to words? You merchants in words.\nYou traders of dreams. You who are always try-\ning for art but who never try for love. You who\nalways estheticise with the elect but refuse to\nfraternize with the crowd. You who go the way\nthe wind blows. You who yield to art the trib-\nute of life instead of exacting for life the tribute\nof art. You who are the climbers. You who\nwould give up your souls for a phrase. You who\nwould rather write a pretty sentence. You who\nwould rather have a style. You who would\nrather be classified with the intellectuals. You\nwho whatever you are beg, borrow or steal your\nway into eminence. You distorters of scripture.\nYou criminals of words. You parricides of gos-\npels. You executioners of discovery. You smoth-\nerers of freedom. You writers who are trying to\nwrite.\nYou writers who are trying to write. Stop try-"}, {"page_pdf": 46, "page_imprimee": "44", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.46", "texte": "YOU WRITERS—\n\ning to write. Then you can write. Live. Let\nthe writing take care of itself. Trust yourselves\nto moods. Trust yourselves to words. Trust\nyourselves to what may happen. Then something\nworth while will turn up. The man who argues\nabout his sins is sick. The artist who argues\nabout his technique is sick. That accounts for\nall the dead books. A man who's busy telling a\nstory is spending no time wondering how his Eng-\nlish is. I wouldn't advise you to study to be an\nartist? No. I'd rather have you study not to\nbe an artist. If you'll only let yourself alone\nyour art will come. And if you'll only let your\nart alone your life will come. In that perfect re-\nsult your spirit will triumph. But if you inter-\nfere with the fine balance either Avay you'll nul-\nlify the victory. Sometimes when I see all the\nliars of the world I wish all the books might\nhave remained unwritten. But sometimes when\nI read a great book I see how even all the little\nbooks are excused. The man who tries to live\ngenerally dies. But the man who is indifferent\nto life becomes immortal. The super man is the\nman who's superior to life or death. The super\nbook is the book that's superior to technique.\nThe super merchant is the merchant who's supe-\nrior to buying and selling. Super writing is the\nwriting that's superior to authorship. You are\nnot to be curious about writing. You are to just\nwrite. You are not to be curious about the re-\nward. You are to just take what comes. If\nyou're prosperous you're to ask: What's wrong\nwith me? And if you're a failure you're to ask:\nDo I deserve such honor? You are not to say:"}, {"page_pdf": 47, "page_imprimee": "45", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.47", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nI'll put a book into my life. You're to say: I'll\nput a life into my book. You are not to produce\na work of art. You are to produce a work of life.\nYou may have to give up your best adjectives.\nOr maybe your largest nouns. Or maybe a virile\nverb or two. To get what? To get life. You've\ngot to give up everything to get life. The whole\nlanguage if necessary. The whole fabric of deli-\ncate grace. All the flowers of speech. All the\nrhymes and lilts. All the niceties of manner and\nthe assurances of routine. They must all go. All\neffort must go. You've not only got to be free of\nthe alphabet. And not only free of the traditions.\nAnd not only free of the cliques. But you've got\nto be free of effort. You've got to cease trying.\nYou've got to get where you have stopped caring\nor not caring. My call is for indifference. I say\nyou are not to go round humble about what you\ndont do and proud about what you do do. Life\ndont call for arguers and hairsplitters. Do what\nyou cant help doing. Refuse to do what you\ncan help doing. Ease up on your nerves and\nyour ambitions. Desire is richest in the absence\nof desire. A man's lungs dont ask any questions.\nThey just breathe. His feet walk. His eyes\nopen and shut. Shall a man's art do less ? Shall\nit consume itself in quibbles ? Shall it dress itself\naccording to the mode? Or shall it stay in rags?\nYou cant have both things. So which will you\nhave? You cant advance and retreat at the same\ntime. So which will you do? Can you imagine\nyourself neither alive nor dead? Can you see\nyourself neither anxious nor not anxious? Can\nyou conceive of yourself as staking all and stak-"}, {"page_pdf": 48, "page_imprimee": "46", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.48", "texte": "YOU WRITERS—\n\ning nothing on the survival of a book? No man\ncan become an artist short of that. No artist can\nbecome a man short of that. Nirvana to tech-\nnique. Oblivion to rules and traditions. Let-\nting the soul retreat to nebula every time it\nwishes to advance to creation. Starting all over\nagain with every word. Making every word again\nthe first word. Are you to refrain from schem-\ning? Yes. You are to let the waters flow unto\ntheir normal levels. You are to let the law take\nits course. The law of words. The law of books.\n.\nA man may get into the way of looking too much\ninto himself. A book may have a man's fault. It\ntoo may brood too much. Most every book that\never tried to be a book has gone bankrupt. And\nmost every book that didn't worry whether it was\na book or not has won a place in the human cir-\ncle. It's an awful thing for a man to want to\nbe good. It's as awful as for a man to want to\nbe bad. It's an awful thing for a man's style to\nwant to be a book. It's as awful for a man's\nbook to want to be a style. It's terrible to want\nto be the worst man in the world. But it's far\nmore terrible to want to be the best man in the\nworld. You writers who try: you must keep on\ntrying till you get beyond trying. The man who\ntries: he may sell out: he may go into the market\nwith his equity. But the man who's got past try-\ning : he's unshakably defiant. You fraud rhymers.\nYou humbug versifiers. You dictionary hunters.\nYou users of crooked words for straight. You\nprofessors and poets. I call on you to stop try-\ning. I dont want to hear any more of your\nclaims. I only want to hear of your love. I"}, {"page_pdf": 49, "page_imprimee": "47", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.49", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\ndont want you to waste your time naming your-\nselves. I dont care what you are called. lam\nonly interested in what you are. You make me\nsick trying to be clever. Now make me well not\ntrying to be dull. I'm as tired seeing you try to\nwrite as I'd be seeing you trying not to write.\nI want you to quit. I want you to get where you\ncouldn't sell if there was a buyer and where no\none else could buy if there was a seller. I want\nto see you who have been in verbal bond set spirit\nfree. I want to see you who have given up all\nthe life you know for words willing to give up\nevery word you know for life. You writers who\nare trying to write."}, {"page_pdf": 50, "page_imprimee": "48", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.50", "texte": "Every seed counts in the harvest:\nIn the harvests of orchards and fields: in the harvests of\nbodies and souls:\nIn the harvests of the topless years: in the harvests of the\nbottomless spaces:\nIn the harvests of cruelty and war: in the harvests of fires\nand frosts:\nIn the harvests we win in our love: in the harvests we lose\nin our hate:\nIn the harvests that are swept into graves: in the harvests\nthat finish before they begin:\nThere is no better or worse in the harvests: all counts for\nall in all:\nEvery seed counts in the harvest."}, {"page_pdf": 51, "page_imprimee": "49", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.51", "texte": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED\nAll the engineers perished. The ship went\nclown. Some were saved. Some were lost. The\nrich were mostly saved. The poor were mostly\nlost. But the engineers: they all drowned. They\nall stuck to their posts. Not one of them lived\nto tell how the rest died. They had no chance to\ntell the world about each other. How heroic they\nwere. How they nonchalantly smoked their pipes\nas they stood waist deep in water. How they\ncracked jokes to the last. They just stayed be-\nlow. They took their medicine. They may have\nsquealed. God knows. But they didn't run.\nThey kept the lights burning as long as their\nhearts kept beating. Who has told their story?\nLet me tell it. While you are busy with the\nsomebodies let me speak of the nobodies. While\nyou are celebrating the people with names let\nme celebrate the people who have no names.\nWhile you are trying to estimate how much\nmoney went down in the cabin let me try to\nfigure how much manhood went down in the en-\ngine room. While you are counting up the gods\nwho are not men let me count up the men who\nare gods. It may be easy to die with the band\nplaying and the world looking on. But to die in\nthe stillness with no one looking on may be a bit\nmore solemn. I'm not against dying. Hying\nhas its points. Dying may be the surest way\nto life. Nor am I against living. Living too has\nthings to be said for it. Living may be the no-\nblest way to death. But I want to say things"}, {"page_pdf": 52, "page_imprimee": "50", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.52", "texte": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED\n\nabout these men and boys I never saw. I want\nto say things about all the men and boys I have\nnever seen. The world over, everywhere, yel-\nlow or black or white; the men and boys. I\nwant to call the attention of forgetful people to\nthe crowd. The crowd itself forgets the crowd.\nIt was sad to have the crew die. It was sad to\nhave the steerage bunch die locked in a hole.\nBut that wasn't half as sad as to have the crowd\non shore more curious about the millionaires who\ndied than about the paupers who died. I'm not\ndrawing lines on heroes. I'm not worrying about\nheroes anyway. I'm thinking of people. My\nheart is drawn to people. It dont hurt what they\nwear. Let them wear velvet or canvas. Do you\nsuppose I care whether they're bad or good?\nRich or poor, they're people. Every man be-\nlongs somewhere in the crowd. Do you suppose\nI care whether he's at the top or the bottom?\nWhen the boat went to pot people went with it.\nSome because they had to. Some because they\nchose to. I cant separate the heroes from the\ncowards. So I accept them all as people. When\nI read of the fifty engineers that perished I felt as\nif fifty gods had been snuffed out. People talk of\na man or two or of a few dozen men as if their\ndeath was only a soso bit of news. To me dying\nseems sense enough. I can see how we might get\nused to dying and enjoy it. But we shouldn't\nwaste people. Our civilization is jealous of prop-\nerty and prodigal of people. I cant see such\nwaste with equanimity. I want to save people.\nThere's such use for people. They are so pre-\ncious. They are our brothers. I want my broth-"}, {"page_pdf": 53, "page_imprimee": "51", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.53", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\ners. I dont like you to drown them cruelly in\nthe sea. I dont want you to destroy them in\nrailroad disasters. I hate your wars. They rob\nme of my people. What do I care about your\nbalance in bank? One man's life is worth all\nbalances in bank. Even a mean man's life? Yes.\nAny man's life. I pass the derelicts on the street.\nThey are thrown aside. They have no right in\nthe stream. If they raise a protest they are\ncalled to order. The police tell them to move on.\nAnd the priests do too. And the statesmen. The\nstores and the factories say move on. There's no\nplace for them to rest. They're hounded across\nthe earth. So the engineers perished. No one\nsaid much about it. They took the engineers for\ngranted. Did they take anyone else for granted?\nThey always take the poor for granted. They\nexpect them to be heroes. And they expect them\nto die without a growl. If they growl they are\nin a panic. If they say: You die too, they are\nungrateful. If they refuse to die they are set\ndown for cowards. Or maybe killed. They do\ndie. They are sacrificed everywhere. They give\nup their lives for everybody and for each other.\nTrainmen. Sailors. Soldiers. Thev are all set\nup to be shot at or starved. The women who\nscrub the floors. The mothers who wrash our\nclothes. They die for us. These engineers died\nfor us. Fifty-three of them. Gods who kept a\nworld moving. Gods who stood by the law. La-\nborers keep our world going. They're always\ndying for us. Dying for everybody. With no\ndecoration. No medals or shoulder straps. Their\nnames dont get into the papers. They get no"}, {"page_pdf": 54, "page_imprimee": "52", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.54", "texte": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED\n\nhero badges. Poems are not written to them.\nNo one says: He died like a gentleman. No.\nLaborers are so busy dying like men they have\n110 time to die like gentlemen. They just get a\nlittle line or two when the time comes. All the\nengineers perished. That sort of a line. Just a\nstatistical record without adjectives. Just a\nfarewell without gunfire. Just a shrug of the\nshoulders. Three hundred nobodies were buried\nin a mine. Three hundred mere men. Three\nhundred dirty Italians perhaps. Three hundred\nnobodies the slaves of one somebody. Were they\nheroes? No one cares. No one even asks. The\nworld is not curious. They take care of the\nworld. Like the gods. They do everything. They\nare the providence of all alike loafers and work-\ners. But they remain anonymous. They live a\nlittle while and die for good. They are not names.\nThey are numbers. It's not John this or Stephen\nthat or William the other. It's twelve men. The\nstory dont list them. The story says: Twenty\ndied. The next day the story says: Two more\nhave died of their wounds. Nobodies. Died to\nsave you and me. And yet they are despised.\nNot buried in consecrated ground. Though con-\nsecrating the ground they are buried in. Or\nthe sea. The nondescript atoms of destiny. Lost\nin the cosmic shuffle. My brothers. My lovers.\nGiven to the sea when it was not hungry and\nasked nothing. My darling comrades. Stolen\nfrom me when I had a right to them. I tried not\nto see the big letters in the paper. But it was\ntoo plain to be avoided. All the gods of the ma-\nchine went down. All the engineers perished."}, {"page_pdf": 55, "page_imprimee": "53", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.55", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nAll the engineers perished. All the coal miners\nwere choked to death. All the children took sick\nin the factories. All the girls in stores fainted\nand had to he sent home. While you've been\nlooking for heroes I've been looking for women\nand men. Women and men are good enough for\nme. Being a man or a woman is far harder than\nbeing a hero. I can find you heroes but they are\ngrowing scarce. The heroes are not improving\nany. But the men and women are improving all\nthe time. The heroes are on top. They dance 011\nthe roofs of the world. But the men and women\nare the foundations. They are not heroes. They\nare men and women. When things happen they\nare of course scared. All brave people are scared\nin danger. Only the cowards have no fear. Only\nthe blind and deaf and loveless are heroes. A\nman has a right to be scared. And a woman.\nThat dont mean that they run or do anything\nshameful or ridiculous. It only means that they\nknow what they're up against. But they stay\nwhere they belong. They take care of things.\nOf this world. They remain in the shadows.\nWork on horror-struck in the darkness. Pace\ndeath trying to beg off in the dead of the night.\nThe men and women. Who are you who build\non men and women? Who put your palaces on\ntheir backs? Who make them carry your bur-\ndens? Who suck them dry? You are heroes.\nYou strut in spectacular places. You are heroes.\nBut you rob them while they sleep. You are\nheroes. But you hit them in the back. You are\nheroes. But you lock them in the steerage and\nlet them drown in a box. Yes, you lock them in"}, {"page_pdf": 56, "page_imprimee": "54", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.56", "texte": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED\n\nthe steerage. You have made the labor world a\nsteerage. You have locked all the laborers in.\nThey live and die without hope. They are jailed\nin your profits. Your incomes turn the key in\nthe door. How can they get out? Your world\nis for the cabins. There are no boats for the\nsteerage. The boats are for those who live with-\nout working not for those who work without\nliving. No poor man has a right to live. Ex-\nisting should satisfy him. This is not a world\nof live and let live. It's a world of live and let\ndie. The heroes own the world that the people\nmake. It takes time to be a hero. People have\nno time. They must work. How could the\nheroes be heroes if the people stopped working?\nSo the people are not heroes. They're only men\nand women. They dont ornament the world.\nThey just feed it. They just nurse it along\nthrough its sicknesses. They just do everything.\nMen and women are the ground the heroes walk\nover. They are the treasure all the incomes are\ndrawn from. They are the ragtag and bobtail\nwho are everything and count for nothing. The\nheroes got the band playing. No band plays for\nmen and women. A princess in England had a\nbaby. Parliament was about to congratulate her.\nKeir Hardie said: Yes, do it. But he also said:\nLet's condole with the widows and childrens of\nthe miners who were blown to death to-day.\nHardie had no taste. They all told him so. The\npapers told him so. And the em pees. And the\npriests of the church. And scholars in colleges.\nThey agreed that Hardie had no sense of de-\ncorum. For they were congratulating a hero. A"}, {"page_pdf": 57, "page_imprimee": "55", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.57", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nprincess mother. But he was only condoling\nwith men and women. What do a hundred mere\nmen miners amount to compared with one titled\nbaby hero? This world is not made for men\nand women. It's made for heroes. It's true\nit's made by men and women. But that's no\nmatter. Making a world is one thing. I can see\nthat. Letting the fellow who didn't make it\npossess himself of it. Dont yon see that's an-\nother thing? Resisting his invasion would be\ntreason. Every man can see that too. Dont\nyon see it? If yon fight for what dont belong\nto yon you are a hero. If yon fight for what\ndoes belong to yon you are a coward. How could\na bricklayer be a hero? Why, the very word is\nagainst it. Bricklayer. How could such a word\ndescribe a hero? But gentleman. Ah! that's a\nword now. That's the real thing. It's natural\nfor a gentleman to be a hero. But no man could\naccomplish such a distinction. A man would first\nhave to become a gentleman before he could in\nturn become a hero. So the men have given it\nup. And the women. They take a back seat.\nThey retire before the grandeur of an impossible\nreputation. They just keep on doing what they\nhave always done. They keep on working and\ndying. They go down in ships. They starve.\nThey get maimed by machinery. They look\nheavy and stunned. They are stubborn. They\nmake good in their jobs. But they are never mis-\ntaken for heroes. No one points them out on\nthe street for heroes. They bob along like ordi-\nnary atoms. Like ordinary sunlight. Like ordi-\nnary air and water. They are not visited by the"}, {"page_pdf": 58, "page_imprimee": "56", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.58", "texte": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED\n\ngreat or asked to serve on committees. They\njust stay ordinary. They just remain like ordi-\nnary food and shelter. Like ordinary love and\nhate. Like ordinary gods. And after a while\nthey perish. They all perish. Like the engi-\nneers. Doing last what they did first. Keeping\ntheir appointments. They die ordinary just as\nthey lived ordinary. Not even aspiring to be\nheroes. Not referred to as honorable misses and\nmisters anybody at all. Not spoken of as though\na man or a woman was dead. Spoken of as if a\nnumber was wiped off the slate. These men and\nwomen who perish being only men and women.\nJust as the engineers who perished were only en-\ngineers.\nAll the engineers perished. Did you ever meet\na hero? I have met heroes. But they never wore\nmedals or labels. Did you ever meet a martyr\nwho was conscious of martyrdom? I have met\nmartyrs. But they never knew who they were.\nAnd I never told them. Heroes dont hunt for\nyou. You have to hunt for them. The hero is\nnot the sun. The hero is an atom in the sun. If\nlight was conscious of being light it would cease\nto be light. I know countless heroes. But they\nnever say anything about heroism. Life is not\nheroism. Life is life. One man has more life\nthan another man. He is not better than other\nmen. He is only more alive. He weighs more.\nHe looks farther. But he is no hero. A man is\naffronted if you call him a hero. He would rather\njust be a man. I think of a certain man. He was\nnonchalantly the most effective man I ever met.\nWas he a hero? He never went anywhere the-"}, {"page_pdf": 59, "page_imprimee": "57", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.59", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\natrically to do anything. He just stayed where\nhe was and acted his part. The engineers just\nstayed where they were and acted their part. As\nthe simplest workman does. As the scavengers\ndo. Just acted their part. Can a god do more?\nShould a man do less? I don't say there are no\nheroes. I say they are countless. You see the\nhero in the exception. I see the hero in the rule.\nMy hero never flourishes a whip. I see him serv-\ning. Let my hero stop serving and he abdicates.\nDont believe anything the hero tells you about\nhimself. Sure things dont insist on their reality.\nEvery man has his place. Do you call a man a\nhero for staying in his place? If I heard anybody\ncall me a hero I'd begin to suspect myself. I'd\ntake my size and shape over again. I'd go forty\ndays into the wilderness. I'd bury myself in the\nslums. I'd want to get away. To be where I'd\nescape the measurer. I see the heroes every-\nwhere. But I see no hero. I see people in their\nplaces everywhere. Often most beautifully in hid-\neous places. Often most hideously in beautiful\nplaces. Like the engineers they all serve. Like\nthe engineers they will all finally perish. Like\nthe engineers they will all reappear somewhere\nagain. Heroes? The heroes work underground\nand overhead unheralded and unseen. The he-\nroes make our shoes. They work in the trenches.\nThey nurse babies. They take care of the world.\nThey make it dirty. And they clean it up. They\nare its crowd. They are the mobs. They are\nthe herd. They are the mass. They are all\nalways called by all names but their real names.\nThev are called dangerous. But if it was not for"}, {"page_pdf": 60, "page_imprimee": "58", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.60", "texte": "ALL THE ENGINEERS PERISHED\n\nthem nobody would be safe. They are called ugly.\nBut if it was not for them nobody would be grace-\nful. They are called stupid. But if it was not\nfor them nobody would be enlightened. They\nare the eclipsed, the obscured, the submerged.\nBut if it was not for them nobody would be a\ngenius. And you sometimes speak of them as\ncowards. But if it was not for them nobody\nwould be brave. You repeat it often enough as\na matter of course that if it was not for the light\nthere would be no shadow. Let me say it once\nfor all the other way. That if it was not for the\nshadow there would be no light. I'm glad. I\nlook everywhere. I discover no hero. I look\neverywhere. I never fail to discover heroes. All\nthe engineers perished."}, {"page_pdf": 61, "page_imprimee": "59", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.61", "texte": "I dont know what it is: I dont know where it leads me: I\ngo on and on:\nWhether along the common road or into the wilderness, I\nfollow: I go on and on:\nThe days are as mysterious as the nights: and the years:\nthey baffle me: I go on and on:\nSomething persuades me: something I like the feel of: it is\nveiled but sure: I go on and on:\nI dont know what it is: I dont know where it leads me:\nI go on and on."}, {"page_pdf": 62, "page_imprimee": "60", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.62", "texte": "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?\nWhat are you doing for the cause? Not for\nyourself. For all. Not to keep yourself going.\nTo keep the race going. What are you doing\nfor to-morrow that you didn't do yesterday for\nto-day? I dont say for what cause. I say for\nany cause. I dont ask you what you are doing\nwith tasks I might set you. I ask what you are\ndoing with tasks that you yourself set. I know\nwhat you do in eating and working at your trade\nand sleeping at night. You do that in order not\nto die. Everybody does that. I ask you what\nyou are doing in order to live. I know what you\nsay. I read what you write. I have heard your\npromises. But this is not enough. This hardly\ntells me what I want to learn. I know what vou\ndo with what you have to do. I want to know\nwhat you do with what you dont have to do. I\ncan see how your pay may make you think. I\nwant to know how you make your pay think. In\nshort, I know what you do as a slave. What I\nwant to find out is what you do as a master. Did\nI say master? Yes. Master of yourself. I never\nfeel like accusing anybody. Like sitting in judg-\nment on anybody. Down in my heart I acknowl-\nedge the last compassion. Rather anything than\nthat I should forget your priority. Every man\nsomehow belongs first to himself. Do I say that?\nYes. Then I say something more. He also be-\nlongs first to the race. He stands for person-\nality. There he's for himself. He stands for\nservice and progress. There he stands for the"}, {"page_pdf": 63, "page_imprimee": "61", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.63", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nrace. I cant interpret his moods or his impulses.\nI can guess them. But their interior purport is\nbeyond the reach of my vision. That is why I\nask: What are you doing for the cause? And\nthat is why I say: I shall not say what cause.\nThe cause has done everything for you. What\nare you doing for it? In all the past it has been\ndoing something for you. Now you have come.\nYou have inherited its accumulations. What are\nyou doing for it? I hear you say you dont see\nwhat you've got to be thankful for. I dont\ncharge you with ingratitude. I only ask whether\nyou are grateful. I dont even say you should do\nanything for the cause. I only remind you of\nwhat the cause has done for you. I dont ask you\nwhether you have done your duty. I only ask\nyou whether you feel that you have a duty. I'm\nnot presenting a bill to you. I only ask whether\nyou owe a bill. The cause has run an account\nwith you. Do you run an account with the\ncause? Again you ask: What cause? And\nagain I say: I wont name the cause. That which\nis the holy of holies to you. That is your cause.\nThat which you say must come before what you\nput into your belly and on your back. That\nis your cause. That wThich demands sacrifice.\nThat which insists upon its initial sanctity. That\nwhich persuades you more than anything else.\nThat is the cause. I dont suggest the cause to\nyou. You suggest it to me. Therefore I have\nthe right to ask you that question which your own\nconfession leads up to. You dont have to answer\nto me for it. You have to answer to your life for\nit. There's no appeal from the cause. It's the"}, {"page_pdf": 64, "page_imprimee": "62", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.64", "texte": "WHAT ARE YOU DOING—\n\nlast court. It says the closing word. What can\nyou say when you have defaulted? When you\nhave done nothing for the cause? When you\nhave simply existed and not lived? No man\nowes anything to a world to which he cant feel\nrelated. If you are an alien. If you are a cos-\nmic vagrant. If you are lost. If you think of\nyourself as debris. Then you are not respon-\nsible. Then I dont wonder that you deny your\nheritage. But if in any rapt moment of inspi-\nration you but once catch the face between the\nclouds you are from that time the servant of the\neternal. Then there's no excuse for pettifogging.\nThen you can no longer disavow your responsi-\nbility. What are you doing for the cause? For\nthe beyond? For the next step? Are you giv-\ning up anything for it? Or are you asking it to\ngive up something for you? Do you pray to it for\nfavors? Do you want cash down? Or are you\nwilling your grandchildren should collect? Do\nyou sell the cause like you sell goods? And\nif it's profitable do you bless it? And if it's\nprofitless do you curse it? When I ask: What\nhave you done for the cause? I dont refer to\nanything that you've had visible pay for. I refer\nto something that there'll never be any visible\npay for. The cause is always in the darkness\nahead. It's always the path unbroken. It's al-\nways the rough of fate. It's always the veil. Al-\nways the curtain. Always the shrouding mys-\ntery. Do you serve it for pay or work for it with\nlove? Do you want to get life from it or do you\ngive life to get it? One man says God. Another\nman says Cause. Any name might be any other"}, {"page_pdf": 65, "page_imprimee": "63", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.65", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nname so it means the same thing. When I see\nwhat you do or dont do I know whether you are\nonly a border on the earth or whether the earth\nis your home. I know whether you are a brother\namong comrades op a chance acquaintance among\nenemies. What are you doing for the cause?\nYou are doing nothing for the cause. You are\nmaking a living. But you are not making life.\nYou are personal. You have not surcharged\nyourself with the general inspirations. Your mo-\ntive is profit not service. You want to get ahead\nno matter how. You dont want to stay behind\n110 matter why. Let anybody suffer. You mean\nto rejoice. You dont make way for the world.\nThe world makes way for you. Service is not\nmaster. Profit is master. Downing someone\nelse. Making good because someone else makes\nbad. That is your code. Staying alive no mat-\nter who goes dead. Sponging on life. Loafing\non others. Taking anything you can any way\nyou can get it. Accepting none of the odium of\nthe cause. Shrinking from anathema. Avoiding\nunpopular opinions. Letting anyone do the work\nof progress. You doing nothing. That's the\ncode. Others queer themselves for an idea. Do\nyou? Anything but that. You pat them on the\nback. But you sneak the price. You encourage\nthem to go on. But you dont go on with them.\nYou scab on the revolution. They put up their\nlives. You put up nothing. They die that you\nmay live. You live that they may die. It's bad\nenough to scab on the body. But it's infinitely\nworse to scab on the soul. You are strike break-\ners. You undersell. Just as you undertalk. Just"}, {"page_pdf": 66, "page_imprimee": "64", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.66", "texte": "WHAT ARE YOU DOING—\n\nas you underspend. Just as you underact. You\nhear the cause defamed and say nothing. When\nthe battle is 011 you are nowhere to be found.\nYou dont even carry water. You scab on your\nbrother. You scab on your age. You are the\nrevolutionist gone to wood. There's no flower\non your stem. You let the others do the fight-\ning. But you claim your share of the spoils.\nYou say: These theories will be all right some\ntime. But that some time will never be your\ntime. My ears know your voice. I can tell\nwhen you are around though you say nothing.\nLittle as you know it, I follow you through all\nthe intricacies of your psychic retreats. Do you\nthink you can cover your tracks? Right or left,\nup or down, in or out, across or around: wherever\nyou go I tally you. Every step you take is within\nmy horizon. Do you resent my inevitable attend-\nance? You say: I mean the same thing you do.\nAnd you say: I am with you, only not so fast.\nYou say: You can count on me, too, but not too\nsoon. You say: You can depend upon my good\nwill, but not too far. You've alwavs some reason\nfor holding back. Some reason for not putting\nup money or service. Some reason for withhold-\ning your confession. Somebody is always too\nviolent for you. Too extreme. Too exacting.\nToo inevitable. You want at the same time to\nbe and not to be. You let other men queer\nthemselves for you. You see them lose their\nreputations. You know they put their livings in\nthe scale for the cause. But vou dont raise a\nPJ\nfinger to help them. You hug your poor life as\nif it was rich. You husband your prostituted"}, {"page_pdf": 67, "page_imprimee": "65", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.67", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\ntreasure as if it was righteous. You let them\nwork for all while you work for yourself. You\nare the master scab. You are the scab left over\nafter all the other scabs have been beaten. And\nyou not only scab on your contemporaries. You\nscab on your grandchildren. You scab on the\nfuture. You are sold out. You are pinkertoned.\nYou have betrayed the crowd. You are one thing\nwhen you think and another thing when you\nlive. You are one thing in what the world knows\nyou for and another thing in what you know\nyourself for. You are the shot from the rear.\nOur enemies challenge us face to face. But you\nknife us in the dark. You are the margin of\nfaithless revolution. You are the interior force\nwhich flings us into the clutches of reaction. I\nmeet you every day I live. You pat me 011 the\nback. You congratulate me. You do everything\nbut avow me. You are half a revolutionist minus\na whole revolutionist. You dont scab the labor\nmarket. You scab civilization. You scab the\narmy on the march. You create the panic of\nbattle. You put the poison in the soup. You\ntake all and give nothing. You beg what you\ncant borrow. You borrow what you dont want\nto steal. You steal what you dont mean to work\nfor. You are the scab of the revolution. You\ndo nothing for the cause.\nWhat are you doing for the cause? You do\neverything for the cause. You work for the\ncause as the sun sheds light. You dont hunt\nplaces in which to hide yourself away. You hunt\nthe open and there face the world. You dont\nwait to hear someone else say the word first."}, {"page_pdf": 68, "page_imprimee": "66", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.68", "texte": "WHAT ARB YOU DOING—\n\nYou say it. You dont ask anybody to try the\nwater to see if it's cold. You try it. And you\ndont care if it is cold. You're as ready to spend\nyour last as your first cent. Some people are al-\nways wondering what other people will give\nthem. Some people are always wondering what\nthey'll give other people. But the lover dont ar-\ngue about himself. He loves. Nor do givers ar-\ngue about themselves. They give. They are niag-\naras of benefaction. They dont know it them-\nselves. They have to be reminded of it. Noth-\ning so surprises a great man as the idea that he\namounts to anything. Nothing so startles the\ngenerous man as the idea that he is liberal.\nNothing seems so impossible to the hero as the\nidea that he is courageous. My heart has 110\nshall lor shall I not. lam not allowed to play\nany yes and no game with myself. Listen to\nwhat I say. Down in me where I'm deepest\nthere's no hissing snake's-nest of alternatives.\nRun your knives clear through me and I wouldn't\ndo but the one thing. Every drop of my blood\nflows the one way. Down over that steep cliff\ngoes all my love, which is all my life. I never\nspend a minute trying to find out what my duty\nis. There is no duty. I'm just driven. There\nis no duty. I just keep on. When I say cause\nI say sun and stars and earth and air and food.\nI say love and those I love. I say that which\nmakes life amd is made by life. If I hesitated an\ninstant there would be no cause again. There\nwould be only empty space and hourless time.\nIf I drew back one inch order would revert to\nchaos. That which is not worth all is worth"}, {"page_pdf": 69, "page_imprimee": "67", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.69", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nnothing. If I said I'll see I'd he lost. If the\ntides said they'd see. If the storm said it'd see.\nIf yesterday said to to-morrow that it'd see. If\nbirth said to being born that it'd see. If dying\nsaid to death it'd see. If Etna's fires said they'd\nsee. If the ices of the north said they'd see. If\na fragment of an atom said it'd see. It'd be the\nsame as if I'd say I'll see when my name is called.\nIf I left it to my purse to see. If I left it to my\nproperties to see. If I left it to my prospects or\nmy privileges to see. Then I'd not see at all.\nI'd be stone blind. If I said that the cry of the\nscab is the voice of God. If I said that the cho-\nrus of the dollars is the psalm of paradise. If I\nsaid that the prayer of apology is the savior of\nsouls. Then I'd not hear at all. I'd be stone\ndeaf. What are you doing for the cause? Do I\nwant you to be a fool for the cause? Yes. That's\nthe only way you can be wise for yourself. Do I\nwant you to give up facts for dreams? Yes.\nThat's the only way you can turn dreams into\nfacts. Do I want you to give everything to the\npoor? Yes. That's the only way you can be-\ncome rich to the crowd. I dont want vou to put\nyour hand into your pocket and take it out empty.\nI dont want you to put thought into your brain\nand take it out empty. I dont want you to put\nlove ino your heart and take it out empty. I\ndon't want you to say to the cause: I'll think it\ndont want you to say to the cause: I'll think it\nout over night. I dont want you to say: I may\nhelp some but dont expect too much of me. I\ndont want you to say: I'll ask my wife or my hus-\nband or my father or my mother or somebody. I"}, {"page_pdf": 70, "page_imprimee": "68", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.70", "texte": "WHAT ARE YOU DOING—\n\ndont even want you to ask your own spirit. I\nwant you to act. I want you to answer before\nthe question is put. I want you to spring before\nthe challenge is issued. I want you to warm up\nbefore the fire is lit. Do I want you to go out\ncold nights when you might stay home and be\ncomfortable? Yes. More than that. Do I want\nyou to take your fortune in your hands and go do\nsomething impossible? Yes. More than that.\nDo I want you to choose misery maybe in place\nof joy? Yes. More than that. Do I want you\nto stake your life on the issue? Yes. More than\nthat. I want you to do more than all that. I\nwant you to do more than debate and quarrel and\nwonder and waver even if you decide right in the\nend. I want you to go 011 as if you had nothing to\ndo with proceeding: I want you to surrender as\nif you had nothing to do with yielding. I dont\nwant you to wait till you are called. I want you\nto call. Whenever anything goes short: I want\nyou to step into the gap. I dont want you to\nask: How can I? I want you to say: I couldn't\ndo anything else. What are you doing for the\ncause?"}, {"page_pdf": 71, "page_imprimee": "69", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.71", "texte": "They talk about the rock of ages: there is no rock of ages:\nthere are only the people:\nIf I build on the people I build true for always: if I build\non myself I build on the shifting sand:\nThere is no rock of ages: there is only the human heart:\nthere is only love:\nIf I build on the heart, on love, I build for always: if I build\non the body, on hate, I build on the shifting sand."}, {"page_pdf": 72, "page_imprimee": "70", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.72", "texte": "I CLAIM EVERYTHING\nI claim everything for the people. And every-\nthing is not too much. The individual has got\nto learn to say: lam the people. And the people\nhave got to learn to say: We are the individual.\nEverything springs from the people. Everything\ngoes back to the people. I'm not interested in\nsuns. I'm interested in people. Mountains and\nmoons and trees have no meaning to me until\nthey are peopled. Your philosophies and dreams\nare insignificant till they are peopled. I know\nnothing hut people. I comprehend nothing but\npeople. If you sing a song I hear people in it.\nIf you paint a picture I see people in it. If I\ndidn't hear the people or see the people I might\nas well be deaf and blind. If you tell me there\nare so many rivers in a country or so many acres\nof ground and ask me: What do you think of\nthat? I say: I dont think of that: I only think\nof people. If you name the great men to me and\nask: What do you make of them? I answer: I\nmake nothing of them: I make everything of the\npeople. If you ask rne: What do you read in the\nbook? I reply: I read the people in the book.\nlam at home where people are. lam alien where\npeople are not. There's no use trying to get me\nto approve of anything that dont include the\npeople. That which dont include the people is\nempty. Just as a man's heart if it does not\ninclude the people is void. I am drunk with\nthe crowd. lam bathed in the mass. I give my-\nself to the common stream. I dont want to be"}, {"page_pdf": 73, "page_imprimee": "71", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.73", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nfound somewhere off alone. I want to be lost\nsomewhere off alone. I want to be lost some-\nwhere in the crowd. I never feel so pinioned as\nwhen I'm alone. I never feel so free as when\nI'm in the crowd. The crowd is my father and\nmother. My eyes are not enthralled by sunsets\nand seastorms. I want people: only people. Let\nme have people and I'm happy. Deny me people\nand I'm defeated. Rich as a man's soul may\nbe in its own right a man's soul is incomputably\nricher in the people's right. Every time I wander\nfrom the people I feel as if I am choosing a\nvacuum for my inheritance. Dont you see how\nit is? I draw all my checks on the people. My\npersonal signature is not valid. I have no account\nwith myself. I can never overdraw my account\nwith the people. You say: God said: Let there\nbe light. I say: The people say: Let there be\nlight. You talk about inferior people and supe-\nrior people. I see no superior people and no in-\nferior people. I see only people. When I say\npeople I dont say good and bad. No: nor ge-\nniuses nor fools. No: nor the saved and the\ndamned. No. When I say people I only mean\npeople. I dont mean whites or blacks or Hindus\nor Americans. I mean people. If I say that the\nworld belongs to people I don't mean a few own-\ning for all or all owning for a few but all owning\nfor all. If I say the people are divine I dont\nmean divine people. No. I only mean people.\nThe people are divine but there are no divine\npeople. So when I say I claim everything for\nthe people I dont mean everything with excep-\ntions. I mean everything without exception. I"}, {"page_pdf": 74, "page_imprimee": "72", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.74", "texte": "I CLAIM EVERYTHING—\n\ndont owe the good people as separated from the\nbad people. I owe both. And I owe the bad\npeople more than I owe the good people. For\nthe good people have been good for themselves.\nAnd the bad people have been bad for me. I\nclaim everything for the people because the peo-\nple are everything. I make no claims for the\ngreen grass and earthquakes and shipwrecks and\narts and the will of the majority. Such inci-\ndents are secondary. My claims are all for the\npeople. After you give me the people I have\neverything else. But if yon refuse me the people\nthen I have nothing at all. If your theories dont\ngive me the people. Or your governments. Or\nyour sciences. Or your vast cities. Or anything\nyou build or pride yourselves upon. If they dont\ngive me the people they are a fraud against which\nI revolt. But if they give me the people then I\nreturn you a receipt in full. I want people. I'm\nwilling to go without anything. Without what\nyou poorly call riches. Without what you weakly\ncall power. Without what you obscurely call\ndistinction. I'm willing to go without all that if\nyou'll only give me people. Any people. The\nrough and tumble average. The nonchalant\nnon-elect. The noisy quiet brutal kind crowd.\nThough I am dashed to death against its rocky\nshores I surrender myself without equivocation\nto the furious sea. Everything is not too much.\nI claim everything for the people.\nYou claim nothing for the people. Nothing is\nnot too little for the people. You lock your doors\nto keep the people out. You lock your heart to\nkeep yourself in. You say dollars. I say peo-"}, {"page_pdf": 75, "page_imprimee": "73", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.75", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\npie. Yon say kings and Presidents. I say peo-\nple. Yon say the scnlptnre of Greece, the paint-\nings of Italy, the mnsic of Germany. I say peo-\nple. Yon say: Bnt for them. I say: But for\nthese. Yon point ont a few figures lost in the\ndistance. I direct you to the crowd at your el-\nbow. Yon say one and another. Yon say some-\nbody. I say all. Yon say fame. Intermediaries.\nMiddlemen. Interpreters. I say people. Yon\nare eminent for a while by reason of what yon\ntake. But I say no one can be eminent for good\nexcept by reason of what he gives. Yon think\nthe people need saviors. I say the saviors need\npeople. The people make money for you. You\nspend money for the people. The people make so\nthat you may have. Yon dont make so that peo-\nple may have. Yon give me leaders. I give you\npeople. You say the leaders lead. I say the\nleaders follow. That the people lead. Leaders\nwould be useless without people. People would\nstill be people without leaders. You say brain\nshould be paid extra. I say nothing should be\npaid extra. That pay should not be for talent but\nfor need. What a man needs. That should be\nhis pay. What a man contains. That should be\nwhat he gives. A witty man said: The more I\nsee of men the more I think of dogs. I will say\nthat in another way. The more I see of those\nyou call the somebodies the more I think of those\nyou call the nobodies. We live in an age of\nsaviors. lam looking for an age of people. The\nsaviors are multitudinous. The priest takes your\nsoul. He's going to save your soul. The pluto-\ncrat takes your body. He's going to save your"}, {"page_pdf": 76, "page_imprimee": "74", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.76", "texte": "I CLAIM EVERYTHING—•\n\nbody. You see, they're going to save you by\ndestroying you not by fortifying you. So they\nseize the pictures to save art. And the operas\nand symphonies to save music. You are to be\nsaved by being denied everything. If they gave\nyou anything you'd be lost. They are safe from\nluxury no matter how much they have. You are\nin peril of luxury no matter how little you have.\nThey fool you with their paraphernalia. You\nare awed not by their brains but by what they\ntell you of their brains. You take their word\nfor it. You should take your life for it. You\nare willing they should enjoy for you. Should\ntravel for you. Should eat and drink for you.\nShould play games for you. What have you for\nyourself? Resignation. Remember that text\nwhich has been immemorially the solace of the\nrobber. The poor you have with you always. You\nmust have the poor with you always because you\nmust have the rich with you always. Who would\nsave the poor if the rich didn't ? And if the poor\nwere not saved what would become of the rich?\nThe great you have with you always. You must\nhave the little with you always because you must\nhave the big with you always. It wouldn't do\nto wipe out the distinctions. To fill in the gap.\nThat chasm is kept impassable by the hand of\nprovidence. You cant live for yourselves.\nSomeone must live for you. You cant live for\nyourself. You who dig in ditches. You who\nwork in mills. Harry Thaw must live for you.\nYou who eat at lunch counters. You cant live\nfor yourself. The fellow who dines at the St.\nRegis: he must live for you. Every time you try"}, {"page_pdf": 77, "page_imprimee": "75", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.77", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nto live for yourself some savior interferes to live\nfor you. You've got to keep yourself thin to keep\nhim fat. There's no other way to sustain the\ndelicate balances of destiny. The church will live\nfor your soul. The state will live for your body.\nYou find all the saviors waiting to live for you.\nInsisting on living for you. Refusing to let you\nlive for yourself. Taxing you to death to crown\nthemselves for life. You have thought of the\nsaviors dying that you might live. Think again.\nAnd you will see yourself dying that the saviors\nmay live. My life is the people's life. Ino more\ndie for the people than the people die for me.\nLook the saviors straight in the face. Defy them.\nRefute them by an appeal to your own treasure.\nEvery time by an appeal to your own treasure.\nEvery time you save yourself you destroy a sa-\nvior. Do you want to be saved by another?\nBetter be damned by yourself than saved by an-\nother. What is the price of salvation? Your\nbody and soul are the price. You are to give up\neverything. That is the price. Not give up every-\nthing to all. No. That would be a fair price.\nGive up everything to the saviors. That is the\nprice. That is the pirate fee. What is the price\nof salvation? Your alleys and gutters and pros-\ntitutes and factories and premature death are\nthe price. At every doorway stands a savior.\nHe charges you for going in. He charges you for\ncoming out. Profit is a savior. You pay its toll.\nRent is a savior. You pay its toll. Interest is a\nsavior. You pay its toll. What is left after you\nhave settled with the saviors? The saviors are\nleft. But nothing is left of you. Nothing is"}, {"page_pdf": 78, "page_imprimee": "76", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.78", "texte": "I CLAIM EVERYTHING—\n\nnot too little for the saviors. You claim nothing\nfor the people.\nI claim everything for the people. And every-\nthing is not too much. What do the people claim\nfor themselves? So far they have claimed little.\nThey have let the saviors give them religions.\nThey have let the saviors give them economics.\nThey have stood aside to let the saviors pass.\nInstead of making the saviors stand aside to let\nthe people pass. The saviors have given them re-\nligions which were blasphemies. The saviors\nhave given them economies which were robberies.\nThe saviors have been. The people are to be. The\npeople are next. Now the people will give the sa-\nviors religions which are reverent. And they will\ngive the saviors economies which are justice. The\nsaviors used to succeed. Now you may notice\nthat the saviors fail. The saviors only succeed\nwhen the people fail. When the people succeed\nthe saviors fail. Saviors belong with kings and\nowners and bosses. When the people at last ob-\nject to being ruled or owned or bossed the saviors\nwill disappear with the saved. The mendicant\nand the millionaire are symptoms of the same dis-\nease. The savior and the saved are symptoms of\nthe same disease. The superior person and the\ninferior person are symptoms of the same dis-\nease. The capitalist and the laborer are symp-\ntoms of the same disease. They require only one\ntreatment. You cant get one without the other.\nYou cant ride yourself of one without the other.\nThe people dont need saviors because they dont\nneed to be saved. You cant save people for the\nsame reason that you cant damn people. The"}, {"page_pdf": 79, "page_imprimee": "77", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.79", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\npeople are people. That's the answer to all the\nsaviors. The people are themselves enough an-\nswer. People intoxicate me. My eyes see peo-\nple. (I dont acknowledge things.) Look for,\nfind, abandon themselves, to people. Dont ac-\nknowledge saviors. Reach out to, are reached\nout from, people. Everywhere I meet the threat-\nening saviors. Do you shrink in the mire till\nyou can borrow wings to take you to heaven?\nI know the black in the people. But the black\nin the people is not the people. Even the white\nin the people is not the people. The hate or\nlove in a man is not the man. The man is the\nman. The people are the people. It's stupid to\nsay that. It's like saying a cloud is a cloud. It's\nlike saying a star is a star. But what else can be\nsaid? Time and space are time and space. Can\nyou damn or save time and space? The people\nare the people. Can you damn or save the peo-\nple? You might as well tax the skies as tax a\nman. As well assume to save the sun for pay as\nsave the people for pay. As well pretend to\nbe the necessary middleman between Jupiter and\nthe moon as between people and pople. I make\nthe whole claim because I have the whole faith.\nAnd everything is not too much. I claim every-\nthing for the people."}, {"page_pdf": 80, "page_imprimee": "78", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.80", "texte": "I see what you see all around: the half lives lived: the\ncruel quarrels of brothers:\nI see what you see: haven't I lived where the fight is thickest?\nBut I would have no hope of peace if I could not say: I\nguess it's all about love:\nJust as a man with a woman and their child are just about\nlove:\nJust as passion is just about love and consecration is just\nabout love:\nJust so the brute is just about love and the man into whom\nhe emerges is just about love:\nI would miss the main point if I missed that: if I could\nsee hell and not see heaven, I would miss the main point:\nI guess it's all about love: I dont know what it's all about\nbut I guess it's all about love."}, {"page_pdf": 81, "page_imprimee": "79", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.81", "texte": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED\nTo leave no door unopened. To pass freely\nin and out. To leave no heart unopened. To\nleave no life unopened. To get everything be-\ntween out of the way. To make it possible for\ndesire to reach across the gap. That is your\nbusiness and mine. That is what we owe our-\nselves and each other. To make light of bound-\nary lines. To efface barriers. To abolish toll-\ngates. All civilization is the opening of doors.\nAll art is the opening of doors. And science.\nIt, too, is the opening of doors. We have been\nout of sight of each other. Too many of us sit in\nperpetual executive session. Most of us exclude.\nWe dont include. We close ourselves in some-\nwhere. We look down and up but we dont look\nface to face. Not because we dont trust others.\nRather because we dont trust ourselves. We\nthink the trouble is with them. The trouble is\nwith us. We withdraw. We get away. Crawl\ninto holes. Into incomes and fames. Crawl into\nthem and draw the covers over. We dont wel-\ncome life. We shrink from it. We never keep\nopen house. We live in prisons and we are our\nown jailers. We are not trying to live as big\nas we can but as little as we can. What are we\nafter? You: what are you after? And I: what\nam I after? I say we must step out and around\nand over and under and across. We must do all\nwe can to discredit what holds us down and keeps\nus in. It is not life but death for us to shrink\nfrom the alternatives of liberty. I give a free"}, {"page_pdf": 82, "page_imprimee": "80", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.82", "texte": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED\n\npass to the universe. For day and night. For\nalways. For the suns and stars to walk in any\ntime. For the seasons to come and go as they\nchoose. That is, I declare myself wide open. I\ntake all the shutters down. I put all the doors\nback on their hinges as far as they will go. I\nthrow all keys away. Then I invite the world in.\nI say to the world: Possess yourself of me. 1\nsay to the world: I dont want to deny you\nanything. I want the world to take me at my\nword. And you, my brother: I want you to take\nme at my word. If life is a monastery then I\nchoose death. If life is asceticism then I choose\ndeath. If life is classes and superiors and own-\ners then I choose death. If life is a stockade.\nIf life is the sacrifice of all to a few. If life is\nbeing blind and deaf and dumb. If life is living\nback of a high wall. If life is this sort of thing\nthen I choose death. The path of life is not to\nthe grave but to the cradle. The signal, the sym-\nbol, of life is not division but unitv. What is the\n7 »/\nuse of living if you cant be alive? Why should\nI hide in a hole when I should be a rover ? Why\nshould I keep myself out of the main currents of\nexperience? Man from the start has been break-\ning loose from the drag of the dust. He has\nsometimes resorted to violent means to his end.\nHe has dashed thrones to the earth and killed\ntyrants. He has gone to war. He has robbed\nhis neighbor. He has so far not called his brother\nby his right name. He has lived inside himself.\nBut that's only half a life. You live a whole life\nonly when you live inside others as well as inside\nyourself. But with all his pausings and writhings"}, {"page_pdf": 83, "page_imprimee": "81", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.83", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nhe lias helped himself along towards deliverance.\nFor there is only one deliverance. The deliver-\nance of a man to his brother. The unimpeded\napproach of one man to another. All time, all\nspace, are for that. That is what time and space\nare. That is what civilization is. Getting ac-\nquainted. That is civilization. Mercilessly wip-\ning out the last atom between. So that there is\nnot only nothing to climb over but nothing to\nstumble over in passing to and fro. That is what\nit was and is and must hereafter all be for. Life.\nArt. Everything. It must all be for that. To\nget armies and navies and properties from be-\ntween. If it was not all for that then it would all\nbe for nothing. If it left that unachieved then it\nwould leave life unachieved. If it is right for any-\nthing to remain between then I see no reason why\neverything you please should not remain between.\nDo you see a door anywhere? Throw it open\nwide. Do you see an interfering income or am-\nbition anywhere? Throw it open wide. I do\nnot say: Be gentle in doing it. I say: Throw it\nopen: dont wait a minute: throw it open.\nTo leave no door unopened. Is there any short\ncut from a man to himself ? Every time you shut\na door you shut it on yourself. When you close\none out you are one time shut in. When you\nclose the people out you are millions of times shut\nin. You cant shut out without shutting in.\nEvery dollar you lay away against others is laid\naway against yourself. The barrier you set up\nagainst the world. It's as hard for you to get\nover it as for the world to get over it. It's like\nhating somebody. You may do him some harm."}, {"page_pdf": 84, "page_imprimee": "82", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.84", "texte": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED\n\nBut you do yourself worse harm. Your hate\ncould not stick to him. But it sticks to you. The\nhater always wears the scars of hate. You cant\nhave yourself unless you have others. The pen-\nalty of being exclusive is exclusion. You feed\nonly one light. If you put that light out for me\nyou put it out for yourself. I know you think\nyou can go it alone. But you cant. You may\nstand very firm. But you are 011 the common\nground. There is no other ground. You may\nbreathe in the air off your housetop. But you\nbreathe the common air. There is no other air.\nNothing will work if it is set up to separate indi-\nviduals or peoples. It may last for awhile. But\nit cant be perpetuated. That which is not rooted\nin the people cannot survive in the person. You\ncant alienate your life. You can kill yourself.\nBut you cant alienate yourself. You may do it\nthrough an income. You may do it through an\nart. You may do it through ambition. It makes\nno difference how. But you are from then on\ndead. You may still hang around. But you are\ndead. For no man can live only in his own few\nfeet and pounds of mortal flesh. He needs a\nworld to live in. To live in a world means to\nlive the life of that world. Not monkeyishly.\nNot as a slave. No. But within the horizon of\nits ideals and sympathies. Living the world's\nlife in your own way. Giving the world's life\nyour identity. But living it. Not trying to\nbreak with it. Not using property or fame or\nanything as a pretext for isolation. Our insti-\ntutions and systems are arbitrary checks put\nupon the spirit. Even seats of learning. Even"}, {"page_pdf": 85, "page_imprimee": "83", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.85", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nexhibitions of pictures. The artist is used as a\ncheck upon art. That is, upon life. He is put\nin the way instead of leading the way. You cant\nsteer a world into your back yard. But you can\nsteer your back yard into a world. You say man\ncant live by bread alone. No. He cant. He\nmust live by love. He cant live in himself alone.\nHe can only live in the crowd. How can you\npass from yourself to yourself again? With all\nthe money between. With the power between.\nWith the pride between. With the ambition be-\ntween. How can you? How can you hope to\nlive a true life in such a false relation? How\ncan you expect to lead a seeing life in such a blind\ncontingency? You are all closed out as well as\nclosed in. It cant matter which side of the door\nyou are on. It is equally fatal either side of that\ndoor. Worse, if worse either side, on the inside\nthan the outside. It is better to be closed out\nthan to close out. It is better to be a pauper out-\nside than a millionaire inside. I would rather die\nin the life of the crowd than live in the death of\nmyself. You are in on the ground floor. The\nground floor is hell. I)out you feel the flames\nlick and bite at you? I cant put anything be-\ntween myself and others. It is perfidy. It is as\nif I sold the people out. Any personal wish.\nAny individual instinct. Anything. Any inter-\nrupting item however innocent is a crime. That\nis why our proud profits are ignoble. That is\nwhy the professional successes are cluttering de-\nbris. That is why nothing but absolute abandon\nwill signify in the last count. We dont want to\nbe hid away in holes. Our fortunes hide us away"}, {"page_pdf": 86, "page_imprimee": "84", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.86", "texte": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED\n\nin holes. Our eminences hide ns away. Get-\nting ahead of competitors hides lis away. I get a\nlittle more money than the next man. Then I\nhide away from him. Then I hide him away\nfrom me. A private victory is not integration.\nIt is dissolution. Social wealth stands for the\nopen door. Personal acquisition stands for the\nfrowning wall. I indict the systems because they\ndrive men apart. Every institution created for a\ncaste sits with closed doors. It thinks itself the\ncustodian of a treasure. It is only the trustee of\nan assumption. For it always closes out in-\nfinitely more than it closes in. I indict the sys-\ntems because they close their creators in. Be-\ncause they make themselves useless. Because\nthey are arrayed against the mob. There's only\none good side to the mob. That's the inside. The\nmob. All. There's only one good side to it.\nNothing is so little as a big thing in a jail. Noth-\ning is so big as a little thing free out of doors.\nOur civilization is a big thing. But it's in jail.\nWe've got to get it out of doors. That is, you've\nput our civilization in vaults and used it for the\nfew against the crowd. We've got to level the\nvaults. We've got to get our civilization out of\ndoors. We've got to hand it around. Open all\nthe doors. Let everybody in. Yes, even the dere-\nlicts. Hand civilization around. Let everybody\nhelp himself. That's crazy? So it is. But noth-\ning in this world ever got its growth till it was\ncrazy. No man ever did anything to push things\nalong beyond till he began to be called a fool and\na suspect and was avoided by his friends. Throw\neverything wide open. Dont worry about the"}, {"page_pdf": 87, "page_imprimee": "85", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.87", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nweather. The weather with love in it wont hurt\nwhatever it is. Your job, my job, is this: To\nleave no door unopened.\nTo leave no door unopened. Do you know\nwhat that means? It means to leave no heart\nunopened. To leave no income unopened. To\nleave no book or picture or song unopened. It\nis a challenge. Yon are to trust yourself to love\nnot to a lock. You are to trust yourself to people\nnot to yourself. You are to trust yourself to the\nwhole not to a part. You will no longer trust\nyourself to your dollars. Yrou will no longer\nfasten yourself in. You will no longer worry\nto-night wondering about to-morrow morning or\nworry to-morrow morning wondering about sun-\ndown. You have great evidences. The vast\nproperties. The cities and the farms. The rail-\nroads and the telegraphs. The sure and the coun-\nterfeit. They are immense. They cant be count-\ned up. But there are better evidences. You dont\nquote them. You sneer at them or you pass them\nby. The people. They are better evidences.\nThe love of the people. The idealism of the\npeople. The revolt of the people. They are\nbetter evidences. After all your buildings are\nset on the ground. Yrour riches are hidden dead\nin vaults. But the people are vital and flowing.\nPeople make houses. But have houses ever made\npeople? I have seen houses so large they became\naware of their littleness. I have seen people so\nmodest they became aware of their immeasurabil-\nity. We have made our towns ruthless. They\nare not fit to live in. We expect people to live in\nthem without love. We can live nowhere without"}, {"page_pdf": 88, "page_imprimee": "86", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.88", "texte": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED\n\nlove. It may be necessary to sweep half our world\naway in the interest of the other half. It may be\nnecessary to stampede all values. To abrogate\nall treaties. To repeal all laws. To annul all\nrespectabilities. All in the interest of life. We\nhave to open all doors. No plea can resist this\npurpose. As sure as the sun comes up this will\ncome up. You have planned your world. But\nyou have left love out. You want everything\nprotected. Especially property. Property. I\nsay take all your protectives off property. I say\nput all your protectives on people. If no one\nowns no one will steal. If all own all will be fed.\nEvery time you write a deed a door is closed.\nEvery time you repudiate possession a door is\nopened. If you take down your shutters you\nwill find it is day. Matters have gone on farther\nthan you suppose. Farther towards love. Give\nthem a show. Forget that you are a proprietor\nand remember that you are a man. Forget that\nyou own anything and remember that you are\nsomething. I dont advise you to destroy your\nproperties. I only say: Take your name off\nthem. How much better it looks not to be a\nboss or a superior. How much more like open-\ning doors. How much more like fraternity. We\ncant have a world of brothers as long as any door\nis closed any where against any body. Nor while\nany piece of land or goods or any power of man's\narms or brains is closed against any body. This\nhas got to be made a wide open world. I dont\ncare where profits go. Nor where privileges.\nNor what becomes of the elect. Nor whether\nanyone ever paints a picture again or preaches of"}, {"page_pdf": 89, "page_imprimee": "87", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.89", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nbeauty. I dont care. lam first of all interested\nin men and women. I want to know first of all\nwbat becomes of men and women. If men and\nwomen get what belongs to them the graces will\ntake care of themselves. But if the ornaments\nare put first then they are discredited and must\nbe dethroned. What we will do with the esthetic\nwill depend first and last of all upon what we do\nwith men and women. I want every door opened\nas far as it will go. And every heart. And every\nfortune. And every opportunity. And every\nvista. I dont want anybody standing anywhere\nasking anyone: Where's your ticket? As if the\nsun before shining should ask: Where's your\nticket? Or the air we breathe: Where's your\nticket? All have made what the few have. Yet\nthe few ask: Where's your ticket? As if love\nshould ask: Where's your ticket? There is no\nticket. There is the open way. There is no\nticket. There is the eager willing impulse. There\nis no ticket. There is the unhesitating sacrifice\nand consecration. There is no ticket. There are\nonly fields on which we share the harvest. There\nis no ticket. There is the commune. There is no\nticket. There are only people. When you push\nthrough no one asks: Where are you going ?\nEverybody says: Walk right in. When you\nlook for what you want 110 one asks: Will you\npay cash down for it or shall I charge it ? Every-\none says: Help yourself. You say: People never\nwill work in your world. I say: People who get\ntoo little so hard will not stop work because they\nare to get enough so easy. Everywhere we go\nnow everything is closed and everybody is asked:"}, {"page_pdf": 90, "page_imprimee": "88", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.90", "texte": "TO LEAVE NO DOOR UNOPENED\n\nWhere's your ticket? Everywhere we go then\neverything will be wide open and everybody will\nbe told: Make vourself at home. We are to\n•/\ncontinue on and on till the last outcast becomes\nthe first citizen. Till this generation of exiles\nbecomes the next generation of comrades. To\nleave no door unopened."}, {"page_pdf": 91, "page_imprimee": "89", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.91", "texte": "When you hear of a ship going down at sea do you say:\nThat is the conclusion?\nWhen you see one man do a mean thing to another man do\nyou say: That is the conclusion?\nWhen you see systems substituted for souls do you say:\nThat is the conclusion?\nI love the people: I never see the enemy of the people as\nthe conclusion:\nThere is something more to come: after the shadow light is\nto come:\nWhen you fall down, when you are only half a man, I say\nthere is something more to come:\nWhy, dear comrade—after half a man a whole man is to\ncome: out of you, too, is to come:\nFor the conclusion of a man is only in the perfection of a\nman: nothing else is a conclusion:\nFor the conclusion of sex is only in the perfection of sex:\nnothing else is a conclusion:\nAnd you may be sure that after all the black has come that\ncan come white will follow:\nAnd you may be sure that after all the journeys down hill\nyou will find your way to the crest again."}, {"page_pdf": 92, "page_imprimee": "90", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.92", "texte": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL?\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? And what\nhave you sold your body for? Have you given\naway what you are for what you can get? Have\nyou traded off your body for your soul or your\nsoul for your body? Or have you gone on taking\nboth with you on equal terms? You may think\nyou have profited when you have lost. You may\nbelieve you are a victor when you are defeated. I\nhave no quarrel with the earth. But dirt can\nnever take the place of a man. Yor can a man's\nliving ever take the place of a man's life. What\na man does may be succcessful. And what a man\nis may be a failure. Any one thing in the place\nof any other thing is a failure. If we want a man\ngoods wont do. If we want love money wont\ndo. If we want faith comfort wont do. If we\nwant beauty falsehood wont do. You are all\ntalking about making your way. Making your\nway to what? It all depends on that. To what?\nA man may make his way. He, may cut a tre-\nmendous figure. He may outpace everyone and\ninvite envy and admiration. He may do all that\nand still be dead. And then he may do all that\nis the opposite of that. He may be the most la-\nmented man in his crowd. He may do and be\nall that and still be alive. It's always harder to\nknow what to do with too much than with too\nlittle. I readily get used to reverses. But I can\nnever quite accommodate myself to a triumph.\nWhen things go against me I always have myself\nleft in my own favor. But when things go for"}, {"page_pdf": 93, "page_imprimee": "91", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.93", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nme I always have myself asking me questions I\ncant answer. My body and my soul are im-\nperative. I cant make light of their demands.\nLet me sell them out: then what happens ? Dirt\nbegets dirt. Reach outside yourself for some-\nthing that is only to be found inside yourself:\nthen what happens? Every grain of sand that\ngets where it dont belong interrupts the revolu-\ntion of the planets. Down the sunbeam dances\nthe anarchic atom. Have you sold your soul for\ndirt? Sold your soul for something not itself?\nSold your soul to the alien? Ido not accuse you.\nI ask you a question. Ido not say you do wrong.\nI ask you why you do not do right. Ido not say\nyou are outside the fold. I invite you inside the\nfold. I have no wish to make you a good man or\na bad man. I want you to come into what\nyou were born for. I want you to step out of the\nway of the universe and to step into the way of\nyourself. Do not confuse my values. lam no\ndespiser of the body. lam no enemy of markets.\nYou may sell your soul for dirt. Sell sermons as\neasily as sell goods. I see the best in the house of\nMan and the worst in the house of God. Ido not\ncharge. I persuade. I build no fires to burn any-\nbody up. I only build fires to light the way.\nHave you betrayed yourself with thirty pieces of\nsilver? Have you sold yourself? Have you per-\nmitted yourself to be sold? Are you exposed for\nsale on the bargain counters? You are con-\nsigned to yourself in trust. Have you betrayed\nyour trust? The world is consigned to itself in\ntrust. Has it betrayed its trust? Have you sold\nyour soul for dirt? You may have bought souls."}, {"page_pdf": 94, "page_imprimee": "92", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.94", "texte": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL—\n\nThat means that you have sold your soul for dirt.\nYou have no right to buy or sell. As long as\nbuying and selling lasts you cant help selling\nyour soul for dirt. Nothing can purify the way\nas long as one man exacts toll of another man.\nEverything should be everywhere. Everybody\nshould help himself. We live in the age of bought\nand sold. We are about to pass into the age of\nhelp yourself. I ask you who walk the streets:\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? I ask the\nworld of all which includes the world of one:\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? Have you sold\nyour soul for manners, forms, titles, incomes,\nprestige, position? for anything you put into\nyour belly or on your back? for anything which\nmakes you superior to anybody else? for anything\nwhich puts the way you do a thing above what\nyou are doing? for anything in laws or economics\nor books or arts which serves as a weapon with\nwhich to club the innocent? for anything over\nground or under, any sneaking device of profit,\nwhich subjects others to your advancement?\nHave you sold your soul for dirt?\nYou have sold your soul for dirt. You have\nconformed. You have said one and two make\nfour after all the rest. You suspected that one\nand two make three. But you did not like to\nsay so. You have obeyed the thing around you\nrather than the thing in you. Votes, interests,\nprofits, privileges, stand for you in place of the\nsoul. You surrender to a job. You are enslaved\nto something that was made yesterday. You\nhave sold your soul for dirt. You can only buy it\nback with soul. The time will come when we will"}, {"page_pdf": 95, "page_imprimee": "93", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.95", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nsell our dirt for soul. I know what it means to\ntry that now. It means poverty and banishment.\nThe devil take the hindmost, they say. The devil\nwill. Or the god will. When you see all the poor.\nWhen you see all those who rob and are robbed.\nWhen you see the devastation the profit system\nleaves in its wake. When you see all the confu-\nsions of sex. When you see prostitution. Then\nyou know that something has been sold for dirt.\nWhat has been sold. Our civilization. You and\nI. The man you sell has not been sold. The\nman who sells has been sold. The victim of per\ncents has not been sold. The victor has been\nsold. The hand that draws the knife is the mur-\ndered as well as the murderer. Your genius may\nbe your dirt. The thing you do best. The posses-\nsion you are most proud of. The public applause.\nYour friends. Your family. Your heredity.\nThey may be your dirt. Even if you sell your-\nself for your best loved you sell yourself for\ndirt. Love can do no harm. But lovers may sell\nlove for dirt. Anything that's in the way of\nthe spirit is dirt. You make goods. But if your\ngoods are slave goods they are dirt. You have\nno right to make your talent a club with which to\nbatter down the inefficient. You say every man\nshould be paid according to his talent. I say\nthat's exactly what they should not be paid ac-\ncording to. A man's talent may be his best weap-\non of injustice. Talent is the coward's weapon.\nYou may be born a king. You may be born a\ngenius. It's as bad to use a crown of brains as\nto use a crown of gold to exploit the humble.\nUsing what you were born with to such an end"}, {"page_pdf": 96, "page_imprimee": "94", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.96", "texte": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL—\n\nis the final cowardice. We use laws. We use\nforms. We use social position. Anything within\nreach. It's the blow in the dark. It's the lie\non the lip. It's the giant taking advantage of\nthe pigmy. You see a little farther. That is\nyour dirt. Your arm is a little longer. You hear\na little more. You move a little quicker. That\nis your dirt. All the inequities come by such a\nroute. All the gloating palaces and the snarling\nhuts. All the laughing luxuries and the weep-\ning wants. They come by that route. My best\nsuit of clothes. It comes that way. Less and\nmore comes by that process. Do you pride your-\nself on your faculty? Rather do anything else.\nEven your faculty may be a tyrant toll-gatherer.\nDown every mountain steep tumble your horri-\nfied inferiors. Time and space recognize no\nlarge and small, no above and below, no served\nand servant. A man has a little better or a\nlittle worse thinking machine. But better or\nworse are not to time and space what they are\nto words. Evil begins when man begins. Tyr-\nanny begins when one man has mpre heartbeats\nthan another man. When dirt gets on top.\nBrains are a whip. You use that whip over\nothers. You make that whip into statutes, man-\ndates, wage-scales. You make everything else\nsecond to it. You may have got so far that you\nare horrified when a man makes a dollar an\nagent of oppression. You have still to go on till\nyou are horrified when a man makes Ms talent an\nagent of oppression. The king sits on a throne.\nThe picture hangs in the gallery. The book is\non the shelf of the library. The music is sung"}, {"page_pdf": 97, "page_imprimee": "95", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.97", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nin the great hall. The play goes on In the the-\nater. The game is won or lost in the vast stadi-\num. Do they circumscribe ns? Or do they\nfree lis? Are they burdens to carry? Or are\nthey wings to fly with? Are they for the pleas-\nure of a few? Or are they for the joy of all?\nMoney may free. Brains may enslave. Money\nmay be the gentle savior. Brains may be the\nbrutal damner of bodies and souls. You have\nsold your soul for dirt if you have used it for\nthe production of anything but soul. Whether in\nthe market or in the academy. Whether in play\nor work. Whether in the midst of your family\nor abroad in the crowd. You have sold your soul\nfor dirt. Whether in making money or staying\npoor. Whether in the most exquisite beauty of\nan art or the most hideous ugliness of a brothel.\nYou have sold your soul for dirt. Babies at the\nbreasts of mothers are sold for dirt. Fathers\nwho have cared for children are sold for dirt.\nPoems, laces, anything, may be sold for dirt.\nAnything that gets in the way of life. That is\nsold for dirt. Religion, churches, policies of\nstates and industries, are sold for dirt. Sex.\nIdealism. The marriage bed. Dreams. They\nare sold for dirt. Souls are the dearest things\nin a cheap world. The house you live in. The\ncup of water you hand to the famished. Bene-\nfaction. Hospitals for disease. The very kind-\nnesses of social rectitude. The excuse-mes and\nthank-yous of the polite and the amiable. The\nbowings and scrapings of parlors. They are sold\nfor dirt. Nothing can pay for souls but souls.\nBut you take dirt in pay for souls. Every time"}, {"page_pdf": 98, "page_imprimee": "96", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.98", "texte": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL—\n\nyou get in the way of life you accept dirt as a\nsettlement for souls. The nights of dalliance.\nThe hours of love. The perfumed bower. The\ngroves of arcadian ecstasy. They are sold for\ndirt. All. All. You have sold your soul for\ndirt.\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? Have you\ngiven up that which is priceless for a price?\nHave you ripped off your wings and asked:\nWhat's the use of flying? Have you postponed\nnext year? Have you said: I'd like to be myself\nbut cant? Or have you said: It's all very well to\ntalk? Have you always been putting yourself off?\nSaying: To-morrow will do for me? That to-\nmorrow after all the to-morrows that never\ncomes? Have you planned to sell your body for\nfifty years and then live beyond bargain and sale?\nOr your soul? The cry comes to you out of your\nown deeps. It wears no disguise. It's you your-\nself asking questions of yourself. Have you sold\nyour soul for dirt? In every act of injustice you\nsell yourself. When you turn your back on some\nbody. When you steal a man's wages and call it\nprofit. When you make it harder for some one\nto live in order to make it easier for yourself to\nlive. When you call white black and up down.\nWhen you become respectable at some one else's\nexpense. When you put the show of good man-\nners above the fact of bad heart. Then vou have\nsold yourself for dirt. When you corner any-\nthing. Even virtue. When you corner pictures\nor books or curios. When you corner ideas.\nWhen you jealously corner your dreams. When\nyou eat too much while others eat too little."}, {"page_pdf": 99, "page_imprimee": "97", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.99", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nWhen you dedicate any of the sources of life\nto anything hut the common privilege. Then\nyou have sold your soul for dirt. If your lovt\nstops with your family. If you can love your\nown children and not love the children of others.\nIf you hog anything in flesh or spirit. You have\nsold your soul for dirt. You have called upon all\nmen to listen. You are for sale. Come here.\nListen. Here's a man for sale. What will you\ngive for him? He is for sale cheap. For he can\nbe paid for in the basest coin. He can be bought\nfor the dirt under your bootsole. You can buy\nhim for a house or bonds or goods in a store or\nthings made in a factory. You can buy him for a\ncrop off a farm. You can buy him for the clothes\nlie wears and the food he puts into his belly. He\nought to be dear beyond anyone's ability to buy\nhim. But almost anybody can buy him. He puts\nsuch a mean price on himself. He will bargain\nhimself off for almost anything that will furnish\nhis keep. Have you met that man? Do you\nknow his name? Can you give me his initials?\nDoes he live round the corner? Or maybe in\nyour own house? Or do you wake up nights\nand say to yourself: He's in this bed? Maybe\nyou tell me he's as good as he can be under the\ncircumstances. I dont see why any man should\nexpect to be a man under the circumstances.\nLight is not darkness under the circumstances.\nDeath is not life under the circumstances. Right\nis not wrong under the circumstances. Every\nman has to adjust the circumstances to himself.\nDont tell me a man always has to adjust him-\nself to the circumstances. A man's circumstance"}, {"page_pdf": 100, "page_imprimee": "98", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.100", "texte": "HAVE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL—\n\nis Ms dirt. lam too familiar with your underly-\ning assets to assent to this overlying result. Do\nI expect you to fight? Am I asking too much?\nYes, fight. No: lam only asking enough. I see\nnothing preposterous in asking a man to be what\nhe is. In asking beauty to be beautiful. In ask-\ning a song to sing. In asking gentleness to be\ngentle. In asking generosity to give. In asking\nthe cloud to rain. In asking water to run down\nhill. In asking the fulfilment of life. What do\nI ask you for? For the fulfilment of life—that's\nall. I decline to call your wars and your ex-\nploitations and your greeds the fulfilment of life.\nThey are rather the fulfilment of death. I decline\nto call the barbarism we call civilization the ful-\nfilment of life. I decline to call the love we call\nmarriage the fulfilment of life. I decline to call\nthe pride we call art. Or the austerity we call\nscience. Or the hypocrisy we call religion. I\ndecline to call them the fulfilment of life. They\nare the fulfilment of death. I decline to call the\nhells the fulfilment of life. The hells of theology.\nThe hells of profit and loss. The hells of owners\nand owned. The hells of poor and rich. The\nhells of those who have everything and those who\nhave nothing. The hells of those who make every-\nthing the writ of the tax gatherer. I decline to\ncall them the fulfilment of life. They are the\nfulfilment of death. I acknowledge your institu-\ntions. Ido not dismiss property. I put dreams\nand people above all the lauded majesty of learn-\ning and possessions. No man is so little but his\nhead is higher than your Oxfords and Harvards.\nNo man is so degraded but he outshines the luster"}, {"page_pdf": 101, "page_imprimee": "99", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.101", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nof bonds and trade. You say a man must make\na living. I say no. That is already made for\nhim here or somewhere. What a man must make\nis life. To make a living leaves us dirt still. To\nmake life gives us wings. We want everybody\nto get out of the way of life. The world. The\ncrowd. You. I. We must get out of the way\nof life. If the superman gets in the way of the\nunderm an he is in the way of life. He has sold\nhis soul for dirt. Would I destroy civilization?\nYes—if I could help civilization by doing so.\nHave you sold your soul for dirt? Have you\ntraded down instead of up? lam pulling down\nthe monuments. The great men. The masters.\nThe leaders and superiors. The geniuses and the\nmarvels. I shake them down in a common ruin.\nIn order to rebuild greatness. In order to bring\nout of all what so far has been all brought out\nof some. I turn all values upside down. I turn\nall ideals and instrumentalities upside down.\nIn order that man may come up. Now man is\nbelow all the rest. Then all the rest will be\nbelow man. Now the soul is the means and what\nit produces the end. Then what is produced will\nbe the means. The soul will be the end. I would\ndemolish everything if necessary to save every-\nthing. Have you sold your soul for dirt?"}, {"page_pdf": 102, "page_imprimee": "100", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.102", "texte": "And then I hear your voice raised above all the uncertainties\nof itself: your voice: it sings:\nComrades: we must hold together: if we let go of each\nother for an instant the stars will drop out of the sky,\nThe power of the heart is resistless if it lifts with an infinite\nhope,\nThe power of the eye is unmeasured if it looks with endless\nexpectation:\nAnd then I hear your voice offer everything, withdraw nothing:\nfor cause or not for cause:\nYou do not question us: you love us: you do not doubt us:\nyou love us:\nYou do not bring scales to see what we weigh: you bring\nlove to see what we live."}, {"page_pdf": 103, "page_imprimee": "101", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.103", "texte": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES\nWhen I look into the faces of men and women.\nWhen I go to men and women without distrust.\nWhen I put men and women before goods. When\nI even put them before their passions. Even put\nthem before their parts. The whole before its\nparts. When Ido this I find myself somehow at\nonce in touch with men and women. Ino longer\nmake too much or too little of their good and bad.\nIno longer pause with ephemeral details. Ino\nlonger miss seeing man in observing men. I\n110 longer go grieved to my work. My feet are\nlighter. My heart is gay. My brain is cleared\nfrom all eclipses. My dreams become possible.\nMy insanest rhapsodies are understood. To go\namong men and women as one of them instead of\nabove or below them. To know people for com-\nrades. To see no one so mean he could not be a\nbrother. To see no one so great he could with-\ndraw from communion. To fraternize on an\nequality without question with the crowd. To\nask no questions. To go without question. To\npass among men and women for one who loves.\nThrowing off all veils. Going without disguises.\nWithout disguises of virtue as well as disguises\nof clothes. To meet their suspicion with faith.\nNot to be turned against men by the injustice of\nmen. Here I stand. No man triumphs in being\nloved. We only triumph in loving. Nor in be-\ning believed in. We only triumph in believing.\nAnd if 1 acquiesce in men and women I will ac-\nquiesce in them even in the face of truth. I will"}, {"page_pdf": 104, "page_imprimee": "102", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.104", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nsay yes wlien you accuse them hut I will continue\nto love them. I will not deny the facts. But I\nwill live above the facts. I will not say there is\nno dirt. But I will sav there is more than dirt.\noJ\nIdo not need figures for my affirmation. I only\nneed men and women. Clean and corrupt men\nand women. Strong and frail men and women.\nI know all that is said about the evasions of hu-\nman nature. And I acknowledge the defaults of\nhuman nature. It makes its fathomless descents.\nBut I see no fall from which it cant lift itself vic-\ntoriously. lam not afraid of the impenetrable\nnights. For there was daylight before and there\nwill be daylight again and the darkness itself is\ncreated by a sunbeam. When I look at a man\nand a woman I see what is back of them and I\nsee what is ahead. lam not thrown off the scent\nof glory by the trail of a serpent. lam not wor-\nried by the treacheries of the flesh. I do not\nspend time trying to disprove the shadows. I\nonly insist upon the light. lam always aware of\nthe crowd. I am aware of one only because 1\nam aware of all. I always come back to myself\nenriched. If I feel out of touch with myself I\nget in touch with the crowd. That keys me right\nagain. The harmonies are restored. The men\nand women on the streets. They do not even\nlook at me. Yet lam full of them and they are\nfull of me. They are not aunts and uncles and\ncousins and fathers and mothers. They are the\ngodstuff out of which the death and resurrection\nof the stars is effected. Thev are unmakers and\nmakers. They are the dinned and they are di-\nviners. If I know men and women I do not"}, {"page_pdf": 105, "page_imprimee": "103", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.105", "texte": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES—\n\nneed gods. If I know gods Ido need men and\nwomen. I say to every man or woman I pass:\nYon are my other self. For I know that nothing\ncould tear us apart. I know that you can no\nmore separate men from each other, or women, or\nwomen from men, than you can take an atom off\nthe crust of the earth and toss it into nothing-\nness. And so I love to go among men and wo-\nmen. Love to throw myself upon the convincing\nmercies of my anonymous pilgrimage. Choosing\nnot to figure up my totals in so many enemies and\nso many friends but in so many brothers. In the\nlast calculations refusing to calculate. Casting\nmyself into the sea and taking my chances. Into\nthe seething whirling surging reluctant hospit-\nable mass. Preferring sin with all than virtue\nalone. Not always being pleased but always be-\ning loyal. Sure in the end that I could go no-\nwhere ruling others out of heaven. Sure in the\nend that I am entitled to nothing which the\ncrowd does not confer. So that when I meet you\nwhoever you are I take off my hat to you. Loving\nyou is away I have of thanking myself that you\nexist. Trusting you is away I have of congrat-\nulating myself upon your inheritance. For we\nare joint heirs, all of us, or there is no heir. And\nwe are joint villains or there is no villain. And\njoint saviors and gods or there are no saviors and\ngods. All of us. Men and women. All of us.\nThough we dont see each other, joint for saved\nor damned anyway. I am closer to everybody\nthan anybody thinks. And everybody is closer to\nme. And though we may appear to be nonchalant\nand unconcerned about each other the bond is"}, {"page_pdf": 106, "page_imprimee": "104", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.106", "texte": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES—\n\nstill unseverable. There is nothing anyone can\ndo to cut him off from me. And nothing I can\ndo to rid the crowd of its responsibility. I look\ncuriously at you as you pass. You are not beau-\ntiful or ugly to me. You are not rich or poor or\nwell-dressed or in rags. You are my brothers.\nWhen I look into the faces of saints and scoun-\ndrels I see only men and women. Always. Al-\nways. And when I look into the faces of men\nand women I see only gods and their companion\ngods. Always. Always.\nWhen I look into the faces of men and women.\nWhen I see what they might do and dont do.\nWhen I see their hypocrisies and degeneracies.\nWhen I see how far down they go after what is\nnot worth going for at all. When I see that they\nwalk in darkness when they could as easily walk\nin light. When I see their brutal warfares and\ntheir corrupting commerces and their wit-proud\narts. Then I wonder. Then my wonder is mul-\ntiplied by wonder and is dismayed. Then things\ncrowd and choke my spirit. Then I see what\nthe despairers mean when they say man is not\nworth his flesh. Then lam like someone thrown\ninto a threatening sea, Then I cry for help. The\nstars pale and disappear. The compass no longer\npoints north. Lot e becomes only another word\nfor hate. Working seems as useless as loafing.\nWhen I see the crowd robbed and awed by the\nfew. When I see the few robbed and awed by\nthe crowd. When I see nothing fitting with\nnothing the world over. Trade not fitting with\njustice. Art not fitting wih life. No one man\nfitting with another man. No man fitting with"}, {"page_pdf": 107, "page_imprimee": "105", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.107", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\ntlie crowd and the crowd fitting with no man.\nYour to-day and my to-day not fitting with our\nyesterdays or our to-morrows. This life not fit-\nting with any life that has been or is to be. Chil-\ndren not fitting with parents and parents not fit-\nting with children. Bodies not fitting with souls\nand souls not fitting with bodies. What we do\nnot fitting with what we wish to do. Ambition\nnot fitting with performance. Lovers not fitting\nwith loving. Wives not fitting with husbands.\nEverywhere, everywhere, the inglorious travesty.\nOur religions not fitting with the gods. Our\nstates not fitting with the people. The mortal\nmoment not fitting with immortal time. Things,\nsouls, tendencies, distraught. When I see that\nI too withdraw and make less of life. I too re-\ntire from my proud boast. I too humble myself\nbefore the shaming fact. I too confess my sins.\nI too charge a big bill up against my ardent\nfaith. I too feel myself enclosed by falsifying\nconclusions. I too measure myself and weigh\nmyself by what is trivial and puny. I too walk\naround less sure of myself. Yes, less sure of you.\nLess sure of all. Less sure of my dreams. Less\nsure of the very feet I walk on and the very wings\nby which I soar. Less sure of the picture you\npaint. Less sure of the song you sing. Less sure\nof my own passionate words of encouragement\nand revelation. Less sure. Less sure. Not giv-\ning up the great hope. But less sure. Not giv-\ning up the food I eat but less sure that it feeds\nme. Not giving up my certainties but less sure\nthat they are certain. Not breaking finally with\nyou O love but less sure that even you O love"}, {"page_pdf": 108, "page_imprimee": "106", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.108", "texte": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES—'\n\nare quite so potent as I have thought. Not turn-\ning my back on my darling comrades the crowd\nbut not as sure as I have been that my smiling\nface conveys any message to them. When I see\nthat men cant live with each other without hate.\nThat they cant trade with each other without\nrobbery. That they cant grow big with power\nwithout growing little with pride. That they are\nnot satisfied with self rule. That they must rule\neach other. When I see that men would rather\nbe prosperous and have all poor than be poor and\nhave all prosperous. Then lam lost. Then lam\nlost. Ido not know my way. The sun goes out.\nMy heart goes out. All the beautiful results I\nwas so confident of go out. Love goes out. O,\nlove goes out. Holy final love: it, too, goes out.\nGoes out like an unreturning tide. I am left alone.\nLeft trying to touch something I can hold on to.\nSomething left of all the wreckage which I can\nhold on to. Some remnant of joy. Some glint\nof vision. Some splinter. Some saving strand.\nReaching for some hand to lift pie above the\nwhirling maddened departing stream. When I\nsee man going back on man. When I see goods\nand incomes and rulership going back on man it\nmeans nothing to me. But when I see man going\nback on man it means all to me. Then I am\nprostrate. Then my voice is stopped. I can say\nnothing. I drift. God knows where to. I drift.\nIt dont seem as if anything was left to do. As\nif the fight was worth keeping up. As if being\nloyal was more important than being traitorous.\nWhen man goes back on man. I who was so"}, {"page_pdf": 109, "page_imprimee": "107", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.109", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nunshakably sure. I who now am shaken. When\nman goes hack on man.\nWhen I look into the faces of men and women.\nAfter the eclipses and the disfigurements. After\nthe enmities and the degradations. After going\ninto all the hells. After making all the admis-\nsions. After being swept away in the rages of\nthe tyrant passions. Then suddenly the shining\nsun breaks through. Then suddenly the earth is\nflooded with light. Then lam restored. I who\nwas cast down am lifted up. I who wondered so\nmuch over the weakness of men and women won-\nder now over the irresistible strength of men and\nwomen. Then things are explained. Then evil\nis explained in the good. Hate is explained in\nlove. That which men and women did not do\nis explained in what they are capable of doing.\nGrief is explained in rapture. The greeds are\nexplained in generosity. For I see at last that\na man and a woman are not explained in what\nthey do but in what they lead to. What a man\nand woman do is too often ghastly. But some-\nhow what they lead to is always beautiful. I had\nlooked into the faces of men and women and it\nwas night there. Now the sun is up. Now the\nfaces are radiant. I know that when a man and a\nwoman rob or hate night is there. And I know\nthat when they serve and love the day has come.\nAnd I know that a man and a woman containing\nlove and justice will someway through whatever\ncontagions of animosity and crime become loving\nand just. Igo about in this midday of the spirit.\nIn the streets. Everywhere. Where men and\nwomen are. And I see men and women as they"}, {"page_pdf": 110, "page_imprimee": "108", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.110", "texte": "WHEN I LOOK INTO THE FACES—\n\ndo not see themselves. I tell them things they\ndo not tell themselves. I lift them up to planes to\nwhich they do not lift themselves. For the sun\nis up in my world. And when the sun is up in\nthe world the world is flushed with insight. When\nthe sun is up in your world you too will know.\nBut until then you will doubt or deny. When\nthe sun is up in the world there is light enough\nto go round. Light enough to account for all the\ndarkness. Good enough to account for all the\nevil. Sweet enough to account for all the sour.\nLife enough to account for all the death. Now\nthe sun is up in my world. And as you pass be-\nfore me, as I loaf about among you, unrecognized,\nyou men and women, you are as plain to me as\nmy own thumb. I dont need to argue with my-\nself about you. For there's infinite light in my\nworld. Light to penetrate you through and\nthrough. Light to challenge all hideousness and\nto disperse all contaminations. If I did not think\nbetter of you, men and women, than you do of\nyourselves, I would give you up, O men and wo-\nmen. But my world accounts for yo\"u. Accounts\nfor the beast in you by the man in you. Accounts\nfor your moral surrenders by your spiritual vic-\ntories. If my world did not light you enough to\nlight you to justice and joy then my light might\nas well be darkness. If it did not light the crowd\nenough to light it to the man or light the man\nenough to light him to the crowd it might as well\nbe darkness. If it did not light the effaced schol-\nars enough to light them to life again it might as\nwell be darkness. If it did not throw itself full\ninto your faces, O men and women, and disclose"}, {"page_pdf": 111, "page_imprimee": "109", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.111", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nyon to yourselves, and disclose love to itself, and\ndisclose the vast peoples to themselves, and dis-\nclose all the mistakes to themselves, and disclose\nall the dividing creeds and industries to them-\nselves: oh! if my light did not disclose every-\nthing to itself so that it might light everything\nfarther to its ineffable consequence, then it might\nas well be darkness. O, it might as well be dark-\nness. But my light is competent. It is enough\nfor everywhere and enough for all. It lights\neverything to itself. It lights the man to the\nwoman and the woman to the man and the few\nto many and many to all and all to the one again.\nMy light might as well be darkness if it fails to\nlight everything to itself and all to everything in\nthe storm and calm of its masterful plenty. When\nI look into the faces of men and women."}, {"page_pdf": 112, "page_imprimee": "110", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.112", "texte": "Do you know what it means to say love? to be always and\nonly saying love every day every where?\nYou think it's easy to say love but hard to say hate: I say\nno: love is hardest of all to say:\nFor sometimes you must say love with a knife: sometimes\nwith the cruelest word you know:\nSaying love is not saying soft things sweetly to make your\nlover comfortable: far from that:\nSaying love is often to say things that cut and rend: things\nthat may even destroy: do you hear?"}, {"page_pdf": 113, "page_imprimee": "111", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.113", "texte": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE\nLoving is the only life. Living must give us\ntime for life. It is not enough to fill your lungs\nwith air. You must fill your lungs with life.\nThe heart must not only beat. It must beat the\ndance of life. It is not important to live so many\nyears. It is important to live so much life. You\nhave dollars. But have you life? You write\nsomething. People admire you. You are fa-\nmous for some reason or other. That is all very\ngreat. But there is something beyond. Life is\nbeyond. Eating and sleeping is not life. Love\nalone is life. You are brilliant. You perform\nin the center of the stage. But that is not life.\nLending money at percents. Making profits.\nGetting a house full of decorations. That is not\nlife. A man may have all that and more and be\nstone dead. I pass you on the street. You look\nempty. You are hungry. You ache and strain\nfor something. What is it you yet need? You\nwho have so much. You who seem to have all\nthe world. You to whose door all ships seem to\nsail and into whose treasury all cargoes seem to\nbe unloaded. You cast upon me such a vacant\nlook. You have not found out that your wealth\nis not life. You have not consciously said that\nto yourself. But your body has found it out.\nYour soul has found it out. You have power.\nYou can draw a big check. You are admitted\nanywhere. You are welcome to interrupt the\nworld at its devotions. Nobody would think of\nclosing you out. The state, the church, open"}, {"page_pdf": 114, "page_imprimee": "112", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.114", "texte": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE\n\nwhen you appear, before you say a word. Yet\nyou cast that empty look upon me when we pass.\nThat telltale look. That look that means more\nthan your riches. That look of infinite self pity.\nYou have the key to all locks. But you are help-\nless before that which having no lock needs 110\nkey. You are alive. But you do not possess life.\nYou are your own master. But that is not\nenough. There is something beyond. After be-\ning your own master you must know how to be-\ncome your own slave. You can live in the senses.\nIn the gratification of the passions. In the ac-\ncumulation of temporal properties. But living is\nnot life. So many in so many generations have\nbeen fooled. They have got what they reached\nfor. But they have found that what they reached\nfor was not what they desired. When a man is\ngreedy. When he seems willing to do anything\nto get goods. Then life seems to say to him:\nHere's what you want: now what are you going\nto do with it? You are filled to the brim. What\nare you going to do with it? You run over with\nsuccess. What are you going tg do with it? You\nare known everywhere you go. The instant your\nname is mentioned everybody knows who you are.\nWhat are you going to do with it? This is living.\nBut this is not life. You are a conqueror. You\nare a maker of laws. You rule people. What you\nsay goes. Those who hate fear you. Those who\nlove despise you. You are an arrogant force upon\nwhose will for fair or foul the formal living of the\nworld depends. You have reached deepest into\nthe dirt. You have reached highest into the blue\nether. Yet you look at me as if you who seem"}, {"page_pdf": 115, "page_imprimee": "113", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.115", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nto liave all after all have nothing. Yon have not\ndiscovered that living is not life. Yon have not\nseen that far. But yon have discovered that some-\nthing is the matter with yon. That something is\nthe matter with the crown yon wear. That a dia-\ndem does not make a king. That living does not\nmake life. That sometimes the more a man con-\ntains the less he contains. That somehow one\ndream is worth a thousand facts. That one cipher\nis worth more than a thousand figures one. A man\nmay find that out too late. He often leaves it\nto his. children to find it out for him. And a\nrace often finds it out too late. A dazzling gen-\neration of strutters and pirates finds it out too\nlate. It often leaves it to posterity to find it out.\nThat's where you are and lam to-day. We have\ndone wonders. But we have not done enough.\nWe have still to find ourselves out. We have done\nwonders. You and I. Our countries. Your\ncountry. Germany, England, Canada, America.\nOur countries. Any countries. They have still\nto find themselves out. To find out that living is\nnot life. To find out that the church and the\nstate are not life. That priesthoods and plu-\ntocracies are not life. That love alone is life.\nThat love which means brotherhood all around\nand justice going with it all around. That that\nlove alone is life. That is why our civilization\nbulging at the belt is still so empty. That is why\nour governments bragging so vastly about their\nomnipotence are still so helpless that they can\nonly maintain themselves with armies and na-\nvies. Like our systems. Which can only main-\ntain themselves by robbery. They have found"}, {"page_pdf": 116, "page_imprimee": "114", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.116", "texte": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE\n\nmuch. But they have not found out themselves.\nThey know how to live. But they have not foun d\nlife. For life is only found with love. The way\nof life is the way of love. Not the way of living\nbut the way of life. Not the way of living, which\nis bound to come to an end, but the way of life,\nwhich is necessarily interminable. That way of\nlife which is the way of love.\nLoving is the only life. But we are warned.\nToo much love may mean too little life. Putting\nlove in place of power may be like putting disease\nin place of health. Love. But dont love too\nmuch. Put a little love into trade. But keep\nlots of cruelty there to balance it. Be decent.\nBut dont be too decent. Always keep some vil-\nlainy in reserve. Dont rob too much. But still\nrob enough to keep the world indignant. If we\nhad no victims we would have nobody to get mad\nat the victors. If we had no bad the good would\nbe too easy. If a man was not obliged to fight\nfor his life his death would be painless. There\nmust be some poison in every dish. There must\nbe some alloy in every deed. If we all loved\nhate would possess us. We need hate to keep\nlove straight. We need treason to balance loy-\nalty. You must be very careful so as not to be\ntoo considerate. You must spice your generosity.\nPut some greed into it. Make the smooth rough.\nAdd some bitter to the sweet. A world of love\nwould lack contrast. Would be without color.\nWe need the persecutor. Men would go soft\nwithout the tyrant. The bully will qualify the\nman. So you need not be so conscience stricken\nwhen you have done some mean thing. But for"}, {"page_pdf": 117, "page_imprimee": "115", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.117", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nthat mean thing the stars might fall out of their\nplaces. Think of it. Your arm is omnipotence.\nYour crime is salvation. You starve the widow\nand the orphan. Too much love would make\nlove itself monotonous. Therefore, corner wheat.\nTherefore, collect your rents. Therefore, live 011\nmoney someone else has to work for. Therefore,\nrejoice in the purchased judgments of courts.\nTherefore, shine. No matter whom you obscure,\nshine. Get what you can in any way you can get\nit. We could not live in a heaven. Mix some\nhell with every heaven. Heaven is saved by the\nhell in it. Does the idea of love make you shud-\nder? lam accused of an iniquity. My love no-\ntion is a fallacy. It will take all the flush out of\nthe cheeks of the world. It will leave us without\na cause. When a man achieves love that is the\nend of him. There is no bevond. So with the\nsocial bodv. When it has achieved love it is dead.\nThere is nothing to continue with. Motive is\nkilled. Impetus is gone. After we have accom-\nplished love we have no reason for being. All\nhaving been done there is nothing to do. The\nperfect state will have to react towards imperfec-\ntion. Love must pray to be saved from love.\nThey say to me: You are dragging your earth\nthe way of death. lam charged with preaching\nlove at the expense of life. Life could not stand\nlove. It would break down under the strain. It\nwould cease, vanish, lapse away. Love requires\nits foil. My world, my love's paradise, my fool\neden, without its adams and eves and apples\nand temptations, would blast all harvests and re-\nduce the fertilities of contrast to desert sand."}, {"page_pdf": 118, "page_imprimee": "116", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.118", "texte": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE\n\nThey say to me: Keep your hands off. Let the\nwrongs alone. Let the people suffer. Let the\nshadows thicken. I say: Loving is the only life.\nBut you object. Institutions object. The church\nobjects. The state. The piracies. They all ob-\nject. They say: Loving is the only death. Love\nand you will live. That is what I have said. Love\nand you will die. That is what you have said.\nWhat you say. Love will produce a race of\nweaklings. Lovers cant fight. Lovers cant re-\nsist. Lovers cant say 110. Lovers can only sur-\nrender. Therefore, your percents are the guar-\nantee of life. Therefore, your injustices are what\nsave society from disintegration. Hating is the\nspice of life. I have said: Rather go without life\nthan go without love. You say: Love is only\nthe fringe of the garment: we must have life.\nThat is, we must have life no matter what be-\ncomes of love. I say: We must have love what-\never becomes of life. You dissent. Love onlv\ntj\nleads life into a pit. Love will not do for every\nday. It must have its seasons. It must be re-\nserved for special occasions. A little love will\nkeep. Much love will destroy. That is why our\nsystems are built on cruelties. Their barbarisms\nare preservative. Rein your love in. Love will\ntake all the virility out of the social order. If\nyou are a lover, go slow. If you wish the race\nwell, take a second guess. It may be wiser to\nwish it ill. You say: Every thing must be done to\npreserve the race. I say: Only one kind of a race\nis worth preserving. I hear it said that a race of\nlovers is as dangerous as a race of haters. I say:\nThere is a love beyond both love and hate."}, {"page_pdf": 119, "page_imprimee": "117", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.119", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nLoving is the only life. Love closes no doors.\nIt throws everything wide open. Houses and\nhearts. We go from love to more love. To say\nlove is to say no more than that things get along\ntogether. To look at the stars and say love is only\nto say that the stars obey the law of life. To look\nat the body of a woman as a man and say love is\nonly to say that the flesh obeys the law of life.\nTo look at a dream. To write a poem. To make a\nshoe. To build a bridge. To walk out in the fresh\nair. To defy tyrants. To do such things and to\nsay love is only to say that whatever we do we\nobey the law of life. This does not mean always\ngiving up. It means never giving up. It does\nnot mean making concessions. It means demand-\ning concessions. Love is not less rigorous. Love\nis more rigorous. Love does not stop half way up.\nIt goes to the top. And it finds that every top\nhas another top. And so love never is satisfied\nwith what it has done. It always finds something\nelse to do. To look at the bud and say love is\nonly to prophecy the flower. To look at the wave\nand say love is only to call attention to the sea.\nTo laugh in cloudy weather and say love is only\nanother verification of the sun. To face the peo-\nple who think they are your enemies and say love\nis only to make it plainer that you can't be stirred\nfrom the truth. To look at life and say love is to\nestablish immortality. To look at what is hidden\nor doubtful and say love is only to open the eyes\nof the blind. To look at profits and say love is\nonly to lead the way to the commune. How can\nwe escape love? Love is the only life. To bask\nin the daylight and say love is only to lead to the"}, {"page_pdf": 120, "page_imprimee": "118", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.120", "texte": "LOVING IS THE ONLY LIFE\n\nsun. You look at men. You say men are your\nbrothers. Is that as if we said: Now let us all\nmelt away in each other? To say brother is only\nto say law. To say brother is only to say that we\nhave discovered a consequence as well as a cause.\nTo say that love will leave nothing to be done is\nas if one said the loyalty of a planet to its orbit\nleaves nothing to be done. Love is not an end.\nIt is only a beginning. We begin to live when\nwe begin to love. And as long as we continue\nto love we will continue to begin. Love is not\nthe violation of law. It is the observance of\nlaw. Life derives its joint and sinew from love.\nLove is getting along together. Whether be-\ntween earths or people, getting along together.\nWhy should getting along together be worse than\ngetting along apart? Why should we suspect\nthat worlds that are loyal to their foundations\nare less likely to resist the northwind than worlds\nthat are built upon quicksands? To say no love\nis to say no life. For being alive is not life. Sim-\nply going about your business, simply making\nmoney, simply eating and drinking, even if you\nare a whole animal, is not life. To hold back\nlove supposing it may go too far is like holding\nback life supposing there may be too much life.\nWe will achieve all that love may see. Then\nlove will see more. We will go with love to com-\nplete love. Then we will go farther. Eternally\nfarther. As with life. Living life into the re-\nmotest distances only to recognize unceasing far-\nther obligations. There will always be more to\ndo than ever has been done. There will always\nbe more life coming than ever has arrived. There"}, {"page_pdf": 121, "page_imprimee": "119", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.121", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nwill always be more love needed than ever can be\nexpressed. To fear that love may love too much\nis to fear that life may live too much. Love is\nthe law of life. To fear love is to fear life. Lov-\ning is the only life because living together is the\nonly life. Because being together is inevitable.\nOceans and hills and people: being together.\nRain and the seed and the soil: being together.\nBlack and white and red: being together. A\nman, a woman, child: being together. Love is\nbeing together. The lake, the house on the shore,\nthe hermit: being together. Yesterday, to-day,\nto-morrow: being together. Love gets the ob-\nstructions out of the way of life. Gives living\ntime for life. Gets the wars out of the way. Gets\nthe poverties and the properties out of the way.\nGives the harvest a chance to mature. Makes\nthe ascent possible. Clears the way for the pause-\nless procession. For all forever. Loving is the\nonly life."}, {"page_pdf": 122, "page_imprimee": "120", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.122", "texte": "I am just a feeler sent out ahead maybe to try the earth\nfor new days:\nI am just a leaf of grass sent up early through the soil\nto see if the others could live if they followed:\nI am just a man who sticks his head out at the front door\nto see for the folks how cold the night is:\nI am just a migrate due from the south when the spring\nbreaks:\nI am just a light thrown on a puzzling pathway to give the\nrest a chance to travel without stumbling too often:\nI am just that: given a little room, a narrow margin, in\nwhich to play this simple part:\nWilling, when called, when my term is spent, to have my\ncredit cancelled:\nI, who, borrowing myself, signing for myself, cheerfully pay\nmy note:\nWhy shouldn't I give all hack, and more?"}, {"page_pdf": 123, "page_imprimee": "121", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.123", "texte": "KEEP YOUR FACE TO THE SUN\nKeep your face to the sun. As the day goes\ndown let your cheer go up. The reminiscence\nof the light will last through the darkness. Do\nnot lean upon what you absorb. Depend upon\nwhat you bestow. Meet the sufficient noonglare\nwith a haughtier illumination. Do not reject\nsorrow. Do not shut your door in its face. In-\nvite it in. Make it feel at home. The heart in\nwhich sorrow is an alien misses its most sacred\ntenant. You will not make sorrow the master\nof the house. But you will include sorrow among\nyour guests. The purport of the house is joy.\nThe purport of the house is health. The earth\nmay pass into a cloud. But the purport of the\nearth is not the cloud. Things go wrong. But\nthe purport of things is right. You see injustices.\nYou see victims. You see shipwrecks. But the\npurport of experience is righteousness, deliver-\nance, salvation. No matter which way I look I\nkeep the sun in my face. Just as though looking\ninto hell I keep heaven in my face. Just as though\nlooking at cruelty I keep kindness in my face.\nJust as though looking at the struggle I keep the\nvictory in my face. I am haunted with pres-\nences which arm me with peace. There is evil.\nWe cant explain it. But there is good, too. And\nwe cant explain good. I do not wait for the\nuniverse to explain itself. For love to argue its\ncase. Maybe the universe cant be explained.\nMaybe love cant be argued about. Why should\nI put question marks into the sky in place of"}, {"page_pdf": 124, "page_imprimee": "122", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.124", "texte": "KEEP YOUR PACE TO THE SUN\n\nstars? It is my main buisness to live. To live\nnearest the best life I can discover. To live near-\nest the natural laws. To live nearest people. Not\nto ask for preferences. Not to expect odds. To\nlive. To spread power. To confer exhilaration.\nTo let the sun shine out of my face. For enough\nreasons or for 110 reason at all to let the sun\nshine. Taking the sun for granted. Taking the\nbest for granted even in the face of the worst.\nNot being afraid that when the clock runs down\nit can never be started again. Expecting sur-\npluses but being satisfied with shortages. Taking\nfame if it comes and humbling myself with it.\nNot reaching out for honors which do not belong\nto me. Letting the honors go or stay. Keeping\nsacred counsel with rny own soul. Letting the\nreturns take care of themselves. Shedding the\nlight. Not sneaking about the earth as if life\nhad to be hid away or enjoyed in the dark. Not\nsnarling at men as if they had to be barked into\nkennels. Not going among men with discounts.\nGoing among men with premiums. Adding a\nlittle to everything I come near to or look at. A\nlittle more love. A little more justice. A little\nmore loyalty. A little more resolution. I have\nno logic for my joy. But I have joy for it. Or\nfor my affection for you. But I have you for it.\nOr for my devotion to the great cause. But I\nhave the great cause for it. I can cite no justi-\nfications. But I can cite my comrades. I cite\nmvself. I cite vou. I cite the books I read. I\nkJ\ncite the struggle against money. They are\nenough. They are sun enough for me. They ex-\nplain enough. Love explains enough though it"}, {"page_pdf": 125, "page_imprimee": "123", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.125", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\ndont explain at all. The cause explains enough\nthough it dont explain at all. And the abound-\ning light: it too explains enough. The vast in-\nterstreaming dazzle of noontime: it explains\nnothing but it explains enough. I who question\nso much am silent. I who doubt so much accept.\nI who love so much do not ask for pay. Keep\nyour face to the sun. A greater sun may shine\nin your face.\nKeep your face to the\" sun. No matter what\ncomes between keep your face to the sun. When\nyour salary comes between. When the contempt\nof your enemies and the fear of your friends\ncome between. When ruin comes between. No\nmatter what may come between. Keep your face\nto the sun. You will be driven and warned. You\nwill be despised and tempted. You will be mis-\nunderstood. You will be summoned into courts\nof public prejudice. You will be asked the ques-\ntions of reaction and disease. But you will keep\nyour face to the sun. Though the sun goes in\nbehind a cloud will keep your face to the sun.\nThough the sun fails to get into your picture will\nkeep your picture to the sun. When you take an\noffice and the office is between. When you have\nambitions that come between. When cowardice\ncomes between. When praise comes between.\nWhen even the love of your dearest comrade\ncomes between. You will keep your face to the\nsun. Ido not promise you fruit without the seed\nof the fruit. You will plant. And much that you\nplant may come to nothing in the ground. Though\nit may come to much in your heart. You will\npour out property. Give the last cent. Go"}, {"page_pdf": 126, "page_imprimee": "124", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.126", "texte": "KEEP YOUR FACE TO THE SUN\n\nstripped, utterly shorn, into the contest. But\nyou will keep your face to the sun. Yes: you\nwill despair. You will say you dont see why\nyou should keep up the light. You will want to\nsell your birthright. You will grudge men suc-\ncess. You will travel where no eye can chart\nthe way. You will taste the bitterest defeat.\nYou will be jealous and cruel. Your brute self\nwill stand between you and the sun. Yet you\nwill always stand with your face to the sun. Ido\nnot suppose anything malign comes to any man\nwhich may not just as well come to you. That\nno disappointment can come. That no tragedy\ncan come. That you too may lose fortunes. May\nlose more than fortunes. May lose hope. May\nlose relation with the cosmos. That you too may\nbe cut adrift from the crowd. May be crushed\nby the law. May have your trust violated. May\nbe deceived. May read the promises of faith\nbackward. May challenge justice. May go in\nfor the abolition of brotherhood. May fool the\nprophets. Things do go wrong iniife though life\nitself never goes wrong. Events do conspire\nagainst the plans of men. But they do not con-\nspire against men. We have to take all into ac-\ncount. All the momentary repulses. We often\nride a very roundabout course to victory. A course\nthrough disappointment. A course through di-\nrect losses. A course over bad roads. Encoun-\ntering the devious motives of our companions.\nDo you keep your face to the sun? No matter\nwhich way you go you may keep your face to\nthe sun. East or west or north or south or up or\ndown or across it is all the same. You may keep"}, {"page_pdf": 127, "page_imprimee": "125", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.127", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nyour face to the sun. Your face shining with a\nlight all its own. Your face baffling all rivalries\nof solar glory. You who ride to death may ride\nto life. You may turn your back to the sun.\nBut the sun never turns its back to you. You\nmay turn your back to the soul. The soul never\nturns its back to you. You may scorn the sen-\ntiment of man. You may make light of the ro-\nmance of lovers. You may look with disdain\nupon the ignorant and the stupid. You may take\ncare of yourself at the expense of others. You\nmay postpone or destroy the impulse to give.\nYour life may be a life of seizure and appropria-\ntion. May ride shod rough over the crowd. May\naccept every advantage of position. Every ad-\nvantage of culture. Not acquiescing in the gen-\neral liberties. Flourishing your gifts like clubs.\nDemanding awe and worship. Quoting your\nmoney or your genius as evidence of your su-\nperiority. Standing aside when the people in-\nvite you to serve. Pulling back when the peo-\nple try to go on. Being satisfied with your sur-\nplus when the people have too little to eat and\ntoo little to wear. This may be your burden.\nThis may be your bloodred sin. This may be\nyour rack. You may shrink from the sun. Your\nface may turn the other way. May prefer the\ndarkness of possession to the light of atonement.\nYour eyes may be weak. May not be able to\nstand the sunbeams. May take no sun in and\nhave no sun to give out. Your eyes may endure\ntyranny but not endure freedom. May endure\nseeing labor suffer but not endure seeing labor\nenfranchised. May endure their inheritance but"}, {"page_pdf": 128, "page_imprimee": "126", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.128", "texte": "KEEP YOUR FACE TO THE SUN\n\nnot endure their vista. This is the tragedy of the\npilgrim. He passes across the earth. The path\nis often dark and uncertain. Often he has to feel,\nbecause he cannot see, his way through. Then he\nis driven back upon his conclusions. What are\nhis conclusions? Conclusions of triumph or con-\nclusions of disaster? Conclusions for one or con-\nclusions for all? Conclusions of property or con-\nclusions of the soul? In the eclipse of reason all\ndepends upon the conclusions. In the disappear-\nance of all you have seen all depends upon the\nappearance of what you have not seen. What\nare your conclusions? When all resource gives\nout. When the road seems to end. When fac-\nulty and vision have lost the impulse of appeal.\nThen all depends upon the conclusion. The con-\nclusion to abandon all gobetweens and trust your-\nself to the soul. The conclusion to refuse all\npreferments and trust yourself to the people.\nThe conclusion to face the sun even if it blind you.\nThe conclusion to meet sun with sun. The splen-\ndid sun sufficing for the love of the body with the\nsun more splendid sufficing for the love of the\nspirit.\nKeep your face to the sun. I love you, O sun.\nBut I too am a sun. Sometimes I think I light\nyou: that you dont light me. That I each day\nrekindle your expiring fires. That if I did not\ncome up in the morning you would not come up.\nThat you do not appear at the horizon greeting\nthe world. That I appear. That you do not\ncross the heavens glorifying your unrivalled pas-\nsage and sanctifying your retrospect with the\nmatchless twilight. That I cross the heavens."}, {"page_pdf": 129, "page_imprimee": "127", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.129", "texte": "COLLECTS\n\nThat all the majesty and the wonder inheres to\nme. That Ido not depend upon you. That you\ndepend upon me. That Persia did not worship\nyou. That Persia worshipped me. That after all\nyou are only the form while I am the substance.\nThat you might be blotted out. That no harm\nwould come to man. But that if I was blotted\nout the fate of man would be sealed in annihila-\ntion That I have ejected you from the heavens\nand assumed your place. That you no longer\nrule, godstrong on a celestial throne. That I\nrule, man-potent in the hum of the common\nstreet. That the farms and the orchards do not\nlook to you for fructification. That they look to\nme. That all harvests are my harvests.\nHarvests of fields as well as harvests of hearts.\nHarvests of justice as well as harvests of things.\nHarvests of ideals as well as harvests of deeds.\nThat the supreme life is not there with you in\nthe orbits of the heavens. That they are here\nwith me in the twists and turns of alleys and\npikes. I see now O sun that it is important to\nbe a sun but that it is more important to be a\nman. That it is right to shine like a sun but that\nit is more than right to shine like a lover. That\neverything whatever seen or unseen is great and\nawes me. But that there is something neither\nseen nor unseen that stirs me to mightier results.\nThat it is no mistake to make much of your\ngenial flame: that you give life without question\nand cannot be denied your pay. That it is still\nless a mistake to make more of my precedent\nendowments: that they give ampler life without\nquestion and cannot be denied their pay. The"}, {"page_pdf": 130, "page_imprimee": "128", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.130", "texte": "KEEP YOUR PACE TO THE SUN\n\npay of the sun is the pay of the crops. Is the\npay of houses. Is the pay of dividends. Is the\npay of profit and loss. The pay of my dreams is the\npay of love. Is the pay of men and women and\nchildren. Is the pay of immortality. I too O sun\nget down on my knees to you. I too O sun stand\nerect honoring you. I too O sun gather with the\ncrowds acknowledging your first causes. I too\nO sun let no rival shame mv tribute. I too O\nsun call you God. And you, O sun, do you realiz-\ning yourself admit me ? You too O sun: do you\nget down on your knees honoring me? Do you\nO sun gathering with the stars and the wheat and\nthe factories acknowledge my first causes? Do\nyou O sun bringing tribute do as much for me\nas any other and more? Do you O sun call me\nGod? I have said of you O sun: you feed my\nbody. Do you say of me O sun: you feed my\nsoul? I have said to my darling comrades the\nlands and seas over gasping for life: Keep your\nface to the sun. I have said to them: No matter\nwhat happens, 110 matter for barbarism and mur-\nder, no matter for robbery and starvation, no\nmatter for yawning perditions, keep your face\nto the sun. And I say to you O sun subtracting\nno atom from the sum of your illimitability:\nKeep your face to me. Comrades: Come: assem-\nble yourselves about me. The first word shall be\nthe last word and the last word the first word\nagain: Keep your face to the sun."}, {"page_pdf": 131, "page_imprimee": "129", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.131", "texte": "POETRY\nA MAGAZINE OF VERSE\nEdited by Harriet Monroe, 543 Cass St., Chicago, 111.\n\nPOETRY, at the end of its first year, is no longer an experi-\nment but an assured artistic success, a publication whose\nimportance is authoritatively recognized, not only in this\ncountry, but in Great Britain and France as well. The\nfield it has opened up is full of brilliant possibilities, en-\ncouraging the editors to hope for the enthusiastic sup-\nport of a discriminating public.\nPOETRY endeavors to present the best verse now being\nwritten in English, quality alone being the test of ac-\nceptance.\nPOETRY is an effort to create an organ for the art. While\nthe ordinary magazines must minister to a large public\nlittle interested in poetry, this magazine appeals to and\nwill develop a public primarily interested in poetry as\nan art, potentially the highest, most complete human ex-\npression of truth and beauty. Thus it offers to poets a\nchance to be heard by their own audience, in their own\nplace, without the limitations imposed by the popular\nmagazines. And to lovers of poetry it offers each month\na sheaf of new verse in delicate form uninterrupted by\nprose articles demanding a different mood.\nIf You Love Good Poetry, Subscribe—\nPOETRY\n543 Cass Street, Chicago.\nSend POETRY for one year ($1.50 enclosed) beginning\nto\nName\nAddress"}, {"page_pdf": 132, "page_imprimee": "130", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.132", "texte": "CHANTS COMMUNAL\nBy HORACE TRAUBEL\nBoards, $l.OO net. Paper, 30 cents postpaid.\nInspirational prose pieces fired by revolutionary idealism and pro-\nphetically subtle in their vision. The high esteem in which Traubel's\nwork is held is attested by the following unusual commendations:\nMildred Bain: \"In 'Chants Communal' we have some of the most\nmagnificent poetry which has ever accompanied a historic movement of\nthought. These songs may well be termed scriptural. They are the very\nheart beat of humanity. Such powerful exhortations, such fiercely tender\npleadings are in them. They are religious in the deepest, broadest sense.\nEvery one of them is a call to the higher self in man; is instinct with\nthe consciousness of the sacredness of life in its human every-day aspects.\"\nJack London: \"His is the vision of the poet and the voice of\nthe poet.\"\nEugene V. Debs: \"Traubel is a philosopher, a poet, and a prophet;\nhe has produced a volume of literature;—the literature of life and love,\nof freedom and joy, and of universal social redemption.\"\nClarence Darrow: \"Horace Traubel is both a poet and a philosopher.\nNo one can say anything too good about him or his work.\"\nGeorge D. Herron: \"It is a book of the highest value and beauty\nthat Horace Traubel proposes to # give us, and I can only hope that it\nwill be read as widely and appreciatively as it more than deserves to be;\nfor it is with a joy that would seem extravagant, if I expressed it, that\nI welcome 'Chants Communal.' \"\nALBERT AND CHARLES BONI\n96 FIFTH A VENUE - - - - NEW YORK\n\nTHE INTERNATIONAL\nA magazine for matured minds.\nA magazine for those who dare to think.\nA magazine for all true cosmopolites.\nA magazine with a courage so fearless that it publishes\nthe best.\nBrieux, Schnitzler, Strindberg are only a few of the ad-\nvanced thinkers who have appeared in the pages of THE\nINTERNATIONAL.\nWe have been in the vanguard of intellectual freedom.\nWe shall always be far ahead of our times.\nYou may glimpse the future by reading THE INTER-\nNATIONAL.\nGeorge Sylvester Viereck, Editor.\nLeonard D. Abbott, Richard Le Gallienne, Associate Editors.\n15 CENTS A COPY. $1.50 A YEAR.\nMOODS PUBLISHING COMPANY\n29 WEST 42ND STREET - - NEW YORK CITY"}, {"page_pdf": 133, "page_imprimee": "131", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.133", "texte": "JOHN REED\nBack from Mexico\nMAX EASTMAN\nin Colorado\nwill give in detail the true\nstory of the Colorado and\nMexican Wars. DON'T\nforget to order your copy,\nof the June number of\n\"The Masses\"\nJO Cents a Copy—One Dollar a IT ear\nTHE MASSES PUB. CO.\n91 GREENWICH AVENUE\nNEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK"}, {"page_pdf": 134, "page_imprimee": "132", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.134", "texte": "The Little Review\nMARGARET G. ANDERSON, Editor\nFine Arts Building, Chicago\nA New Monthly Journal\n—lll 1 1 Mm —limilllMll !■ IWI 111 11l WW I TMrtrMHWri lllia illl ■ lllllilMißllll 111\nDrama, Music and Art\nIt is unacademic, enthusiastic, appreciative and youthful,\nseeking and emphasizing the truth which is beauty, and in-\nsisting upon a larger naturalness and a nobler seriousness\nin art and life.\nIt is not connected in any way with any organization or\ncompany, is free from propaganda and outworn traditions,\nand has ideals and convictions which have already secured\nit a large, critical list of readers.\nThe third (May) number contains the following:\nOn Behalf of Literature DeWitt C. Wing\nThe Challenge of Emma Goldman,\nMargaret C. Anderson\nChloroform, Mary Aldis and Arthur Davisson Ficke\n\"True to Life\"..... Edith Wyatt\nImpression George Soule\nArt and Life George Burman Foster\nPatriots Parke Farley\n\"Change\" at the Fine Arts Theatre.\nCorrespondence:\nThe Vision of Wells.\nAnother View of \"The Dark Flower.\"\nDr. Foster's Articles on Nietzsche.\nLawton Parker Eunice Tietjens\nNew York Letter George Soule\nUnion vs. Union Privileges... .Henry Blackman Sell\nBook Discussion:\nMr. Chesterton's Prejudices.\nDr. Flexner on Prostitution.\nThe Critics' Critic.\nSentence Reviews.\nLetters to The Little Review.\nThe subscription price is $2.50 per annum; 25 cents\na copy."}, {"page_pdf": 135, "page_imprimee": "133", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaat191404-01.1.135", "texte": "The May issue of THE GLEBE\nwill present Poems by George Cronyn.\nContents of Volume I:\nsongs, sighs and Curses. By Adolf\nWolff .........................60c.\nThe Diary of a Suicide. By Wallace E.\nBaker .........................50c.\nThe Azure Adder. By Charles Demuth\n...................35.\nLover of Once's Neighhor. By Leonid\nAndreyev........................35c.\nDes Imagistes. An Anthology.....50c.\nErna Vitek. By Alfred Kreyinborg.\n..........................All sold.\nHereafter all single copies will be\n50 cents.\nThe subscription price per year is\n$3.00."}]}