Heroism, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Military Attitude of the Soul
Towards all external evil, the man within the breast assumes a warlike attitude, and affirms his ability to cope single-handed with the infinite army of enemies. To this military attitude of the soul we give the name of Heroism. Its rudest form is the contempt for safety and ease, which makes the attractiveness of war. It is a self-trust which slights the restraints of prudence, in the plenitude of its energy and power to repair the harms it may suffer. The hero is a mind of such balance that no disturbances can shake his will, but pleasantly, and, as it were, merrily, he advances to his own music, alike in frightful alarms and in the tipsy mirth of universal dissoluteness. There is somewhat not philosophical in heroism; there is somewhat not holy in it; it seems not to know that other souls are of one texture with it; it has pride; it is the extreme of individual nature. Nevertheless, we must profoundly revere it. There is somewhat in great actions, which does not allow us to go behind them. Heroism feels and never reasons, and therefore is always right; and although a different breeding, different religion, and greater intellectual activity would have modified or even reversed the particular action, yet for the hero that thing he does is the highest deed, and is not open to the censure of philosophers or divines. It is the avowal of the unschooled man, that he finds a quality in him that is negligent of expense, of health, of life, of danger, of hatred, of reproach, and knows that his will is higher and more excellent than all actual and all possible antagonists.
Imprudent, but Ahead
Heroism works in contradiction to the voice of mankind, and in contradiction, for a time, to the voice of the great and good. Heroism is an obedience to a secret impulse of an individual’s character. Now to no other man can its wisdom appear as it does to him, for every man must be supposed to see a little farther on his own proper path than any one else. Therefore, just and wise men take umbrage at his act, until after some little time be past: then they see it to be in unison with their acts. All prudent men see that the action is clean contrary to a sensual prosperity; for every heroic act measures itself by its contempt of some external good. But it finds its own success at last, and then the prudent also extol.
Low-Maintenance
Self-trust is the essence of heroism. It is the state of the soul at war, and its ultimate objects are the last defiance of falsehood and wrong, and the power to bear all that can be inflicted by evil agents. It speaks the truth, and it is just, generous, hospitable, temperate, scornful of petty calculations, and scornful of being scorned. It persists; it is of an undaunted boldness, and of a fortitude not to be wearied out. Its jest is the littleness of common life. That false prudence which dotes on health and wealth is the butt and merriment of heroism. Heroism, like Plotinus, is almost ashamed of its body. What shall it say, then, to the sugar-plums and cats’-cradles, to the toilet, compliments, quarrels, cards, and custard, which rack the wit of all society. What joys has kind nature provided for us dear creatures! There seems to be no interval between greatness and meanness. When the spirit is not master of the world, then it is its dupe. Yet the little man takes the great hoax so innocently, works in it so headlong and believing, is born red, and dies gray, arranging his toilet, attending on his own health, laying traps for sweet food and strong wine, setting his heart on a horse or a rifle, made happy with a little gossip or a little praise, that the great soul cannot choose but laugh at such earnest nonsense. “Indeed, these humble considerations make me out of love with greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to take note how many pairs of silk stockings thou hast, namely, these and those that were the peach-colored ones; or to bear the inventory of thy shirts, as one for superfluity, and one other for use!”
Magnanimous
Citizens, thinking after the laws of arithmetic, consider the inconvenience of receiving strangers at their fireside, reckon narrowly the loss of time and the unusual display: the soul of a better quality thrusts back the unseasonable economy into the vaults of life, and says, I will obey the God, and the sacrifice and the fire he will provide. Ibn Haukal, the Arabian geographer, describes a heroic extreme in the hospitality of Sogd, in Bukharia. “When I was in Sogd, I saw a great building, like a palace, the gates of which were open and fixed back to the wall with large nails. I asked the reason, and was told that the house had not been shut, night or day, for a hundred years. Strangers may present themselves at any hour, and in whatever number; the master has amply provided for the reception of the men and their animals, and is never happier than when they tarry for some time. Nothing of the kind have I seen in any other country.” The magnanimous know very well that they who give time, or money, or shelter, to the stranger — so it be done for love, and not for ostentation — do, as it were, put God under obligation to them, so perfect are the compensations of the universe. In some way the time they seem to lose is redeemed, and the pains they seem to take remunerate themselves. These men fan the flame of human love, and raise the standard of civil virtue among mankind. But hospitality must be for service, and not for show, or it pulls down the host. The brave soul rates itself too high to value itself by the splendor of its table and draperies. It gives what it hath, and all it hath, but its own majesty can lend a better grace to bannocks and fair water than belong to city feasts.
Fun
Sport is the bloom and glow of a perfect health. The great will not condescend to take any thing seriously; all must be as gay as the song of a canary, though it were the building of cities, or the eradication of old and foolish churches and nations, which have cumbered the earth long thousands of years. Simple hearts put all the history and customs of this world behind them, and play their own game in innocent defiance of the Blue-Laws of the world; and such would appear, could we see the human race assembled in vision, like little children frolicking together; though, to the eyes of mankind at large, they wear a stately and solemn garb of works and influences.
Coming of Age, Making Mistakes
We have seen or heard of many extraordinary young men, who never ripened, or whose performance in actual life was not extraordinary. When we see their air and mien, when we hear them speak of society, of books, of religion, we admire their superiority, they seem to throw contempt on our entire polity and social state; theirs is the tone of a youthful giant, who is sent to work revolutions. But they enter an active profession, and the forming Colossus shrinks to the common size of man. The magic they used was the ideal tendencies, which always make the Actual ridiculous; but the tough world had its revenge the moment they put their horses of the sun to plough in its furrow. They found no example and no companion, and their heart fainted. What then? The lesson they gave in their first aspirations is yet true; and a better valor and a purer truth shall one day organize their belief. Or why should a woman liken herself to any historical woman, and think, because Sappho, or Sevigne, or De Stael, or the cloistered souls who have had genius and cultivation, do not satisfy the imagination and the serene Themis, none can, — certainly not she. Why not? She has a new and unattempted problem to solve, perchance that of the happiest nature that ever bloomed. Let the maiden, with erect soul, walk serenely on her way, accept the hint of each new experience, search in turn all the objects that solicit her eye, that she may learn the power and the charm of her new-born being, which is the kindling of a new dawn in the recesses of space. The fair girl, who repels interference by a decided and proud choice of influences, so careless of pleasing, so wilful and lofty, inspires every beholder with somewhat of her own nobleness. The silent heart encourages her; O friend, never strike sail to a fear! Come into port greatly, or sail with God the seas. Not in vain you live, for every passing eye is cheered and refined by the vision.
Congratulate Yourself if You Have Done Something Strange and Extravagant
The characteristic of heroism is its persistency. All men have wandering impulses, fits, and starts of generosity. But when you have chosen your part, abide by it, and do not weakly try to reconcile yourself with the world. The heroic cannot be the common, nor the common the heroic. Yet we have the weakness to expect the sympathy of people in those actions whose excellence is that they outrun sympathy, and appeal to a tardy justice. If you would serve your brother, because it is fit for you to serve him, do not take back your words when you find that prudent people do not commend you.
Adhere to your own act, and congratulate yourself if you have done something strange and extravagant, and broken the monotony of a decorous age. It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, — “Always do what you are afraid to do.” A simple, manly character need never make an apology, but should regard its past action with the calmness of Phocion, when he admitted that the event of the battle was happy, yet did not regret his dissuasion from the battle.
Seek Suffering
To speak the truth, even with some austerity, to live with some rigor of temperance, or some extremes of generosity, seems to be an asceticism which common good-nature would appoint to those who are at ease and in plenty, in sign that they feel a brotherhood with the great multitude of suffering men. And not only need we breathe and exercise the soul by assuming the penalties of abstinence, of debt, of solitude, of unpopularity, but it behooves the wise man to look with a bold eye into those rarer dangers which sometimes invade men, and to familiarize himself with disgusting forms of disease, with sounds of execration, and the vision of violent death.
Address Crises
Times of heroism are generally times of terror, but the day never shines in which this element may not work. The circumstances of man, we say, are historically somewhat better in this country, and at this hour, than perhaps ever before. More freedom exists for culture. It will not now run against an axe at the first step out of the beaten track of opinion. But whoso is heroic will always find crises to try his edge. Human virtue demands her champions and martyrs, and the trial of persecution always proceeds. It is but the other day that the brave Lovejoy gave his breast to the bullets of a mob, for the rights of free speech and opinion, and died when it was better not to live.
The Literature of Heroism
Thomas Carlyle, with his natural taste for what is manly and daring in character, has suffered no heroic trait in his favorites to drop from his biographical and historical pictures. Earlier, Robert Burns has given us a song or two. In the Harleian Miscellanies, there is an account of the battle of Lutzen, which deserves to be read. And Simon Ockley’s History of the Saracens recounts the prodigies of individual valor with admiration, all the more evident on the part of the narrator, that he seems to think that his place in Christian Oxford requires of him some proper protestations of abhorrence. But, if we explore the literature of Heroism, we shall quickly come to Plutarch, who is its Doctor and historian. To him we owe the Brasidas, the Dion, the Epaminondas, the Scipio of old, and I must think we are more deeply indebted to him than to all the ancient writers. Each of his “Lives” is a refutation to the despondency and cowardice of our religious and political theorists. A wild courage, a Stoicism not of the schools, but of the blood, shines in every anecdote, and has given that book its immense fame. We need books of this tart cathartic virtue, more than books of political science, or of private economy. Life is a festival only to the wise. Seen from the nook and chimney-side of prudence, it wears a ragged and dangerous front.
What's a Badass?
A 69-year-old who recently found this blog was perplexed by the term “badass,” which unifies all the content.
Must be a generation gap thing. I thought that it was going to be about irresponsible screw-ups and how cool they are but of course it isn’t at all, it is sort of the opposite.
His reaction is totally understandable. I think only 12-35 year-old American or British people understand the term of admiration.
In short, “badass” means “hero.” Young people are too snarky to use such an earnest complement, so they made up a more appropriate one.
Yes, badass is a term of admiration, a high complement. I think it came about after people started using the term “bad” to mean “great.” Caifornians probably added the “ass” on the end, since we tend to add “ass” onto the end of a great many words (dumbass, bitchass).
I have solicited many definitions over the past months, like these:
“Someone who doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of him.”
“Someone who takes risks and bucks convention.”
When I think of a badass, I usually think of the rapper Too $hort. His classic song “Gettin It” pretty well captures my perception of what a badass does:
Get everything you want, get real, get your mail
Get your girl to make bail and get your ass out of jail
You should be gettin it, everything you want
Everything you dreamed of, never have to front
You should be gettin it, gettin money
I’m talking bout you black, don’t laugh it aint funny
Get your kids in school, so they can get an education
Get a degree, and take a vacation
You see I got all my game from the streets of California
Young millionaire with no high school diploma
Livin real good, taking care of my folks
roll up a fat one for the players to smoke
Short Dawg in the house, I know you aint trippin
Cause Life is Too $hort you gotta Get In Where You Fit In
Stop looking for what you never seem to find
It ain’t what you think you got to read between the lines
Cause life ain’t long, for a young black man
Tryin to make money doing all he can
Sellin dope don’t ya hope he would go to class
But the boy makes money and he makes it fast
with the twenties on top and the fifties on the bottom
It’s been a long time since I first got down
But I still keep makin these funky sounds
Get your money man
Get yours
Chorus:
You should be gettin it
Get it while the gettin is good, get it while you can
You should be gettin it
Get it while the gettin is good
I know you tired of being broke just hanging out
You gotta lot a dreams but you can’t get out
The first thing you need to do is set your self some goals
Think positive, everything else is old
And work hard, never stop hustlin
Cause they just love to see the black man strugglin
It’s time to come up, put your dollar bills in the air
He said meet me at the White House and I was there
Cause I’m one in a million, black man rising
They wanna keep me down but I always surprise em
Spend my money in the hood, I know it’s all good
And you should do the same
I lend my brother a hand cause I know I can
I keep going and goin but I’m not the pink bunny
I’m not beatin on a drum I never stop thinkin money
I’m gettin all I can if you don’t ya slip
I can’t wait to get to heaven just to have a grip
When I was broke, I couldn’t afford a meal
But now I’m now rich I can’t be fake I gots to keep it real
It’s been a long time baby since I first got down
But it still keep making these funky sounds
What Too $hort means is that underdogs, those not part of the aristocracy, whatever aristocracy rules their particular world and worldview, whether it be WHITE PEOPLE or THE WEST or THE GOVERNMENT or yesterday’s HEDGE FUNDS or THE POLICE, should just go for what they want anyway, and always advocate for themselves, however they can, with whatever tools are available to them and without concern for laws created by the establishment to keep them down.
A badass is usually facing adversity of some kind, and is almost always:
Unique
Fearless
Resilient
Creative
Self-contained
And often:
Iconoclastic
Stylish
Coveted by the opposite sex
Brutally honest/undiplomatic/uncouth/tactless
In common parlance, here are some ways people might use the term:
“Can you believe John kept playing even after the linebacker broke off his finger? What a badass.”
“Jill gets a lot of action for a 50-year-old. I know! She has at least five boyfriends that I know of, and they keep proposing to her, but she doesn’t like any of them enough. What a badass! I wonder why the hell I married Joel when I think about her situation… I could be living it up in Chile with a lover instead of being a bored housewife in Ithica. I hate snow! The only reason we live here is because of Joel’s tenure.”
“I met this coffee exporter on the airplane to Paris. He was from Burkina Faso, and grew up in the middle of nowhere. But he got sick of being poor and when he was like 14, he bought a suit and hitchhiked to Johannesburg to propose that he start a coffee plantation on his uncle’s land for this huge multinational coffee exporter. He just went to the office and said he had an appointment. They made him wait two days, and he slept in the lobby. Ultimately he convinced the president of the company to hire him, and now, 15 years later, dude lives in Geneva and makes like $150,000 a year as a major exporter. He put all his brothers and sisters through college and then paid for his family to resettle to another country when there was a war near their border in Liberia. Total badass!”
“Greg Mortenson is amazing. He got lost climbing down a mountain and wandered into some poor mountain village in Pakistan where they saved him from freezing to death. Then they told him they wanted him to repay them by building a school for the village. He was like, Okay. And then he built not just a school but a bridge, and then dozens of more schools all over Afghanistan and Pakistan. He was only making $20,000 a year but he didn’t care. What a badass.”
Needless to say, anyone who pulls out his own tooth, stitches up his own bulletwound, walks around the world, starts an orphanage, a revolution, or becomes the first black president of the United States of America qualifies immediately for badass status.
There’s a spiritual quality to being a badass, that thing that keeps a badass going regardless of what horrible conditions they may be living in. Badasses are not co-dependent. They could be surrounded by totally mean disgusting people and still find happiness in their own ways.
American Hero Meets Ethiopian Heroes
My friend Dan Johnson quit his job making Corona ads at an agency in Midtown Manhattan this June to travel to Ethiopia for a month. (Your narrator was supposed to be meeting him there until NY landlord discovered subletter and emergency ensued.)
One month turned into two after Dan (sort of) missed his flight, roaming from obscure, non-tourist site to the next, learning Amharic, chewing khat, befriending children, philosophers, a construction worker who writes daily radio commentaries on napkins, a young lady in Harar and a tailor named Commando Ibrahim Mohammed.
Here’s a blog post he wrote inbetween feeding hyenas.
personplaceorthing:
Currently still in Harar (actually, now Dire Dawa but at the time of writing was in the former). Want some more detailed info instead of just “I’m having a great time” ?… ishee (Amharic for ‘OK’)…
Harar is an ancient walled city with the type of narrow cobbled streets you’d imagine for a north african or arabic city. I’ve been staying mainly at a hotel just outside the walls whose nickname is Hyena Hotel, for the 10-20 hyenas that prowl around. My first day arriving, having come by an all-night minibus from Addis with my canadian friend Eric (the dude i traveled with for a few days at the beginning of my trip). We arrived in Harar early morning (after the craziest night travel experience ever- flipped vans and busses littering the 300km road, and some crazy dude in the van muttering about ‘shiftas” the whole time [bandits known to have been a problem along this route in the past] not really ) Having survived the transit, we arrive at 5am in the pouring rain, knocking on the gate of the hotel with the response that no rooms are available. We walk over to look at the football pitch below, 15 hyenas lurking about, looking like some sort of bad CGI mutant zombie dogs. Not the most reassuring first experience for a new city, but actually quite appropriate for this extremely unique place. On a normal night it’s not out of the ordinary to pass within 10 feet of a hyena on the road… here the hyenas are quite tame and there’s even a section of the city where the Hyena Man feeds them meat and for 5 bucks you can pay to feed a hyena from the end of a stick, the other side of which you can put in your mouth. I haven’t met the Hyena man but i did meet his son and he seemed sane enough… harar is definitely a village with more than its share of idiots…
I’ve become a quite a prisoner of people’s hospitality of late- the majority of my time in ethiopia previously has been mainly spent with men, either my age or older. Here in Harar, however, I’ve been mainly hanging out with women- the crew, an extended family of sorts, consisting of two unmarried matriarchs and a mixture of friends, daughters, aunts, neices, cousins and whatnot. Their hospitality is something my friend Eric and i have termed “aggressive relaxation” - sit, eat, don’t move, here take this pillow.. There’s also this kind of jealous hospitality wherein some of the women are in competion for me to eat lunch at their house… crazy.
If my previous time in Ethiopia has been relaxing, i’m not sure what my time in Harar could be termed… little bits of exploring the city in the morning, whole afternoons spent lounging on pillows, chewing chat (a mildly stimulating plant that most people in the eastern horn of Africa chew. i’ll write more about it later) drinking tea and ungodly amounts of coffee for the traditional 3 cup coffee ceremony, and smoking a water pipe (shisha). The sharing and time spent together is really a wonderful thing. And because it’s summer many people don’t have work or school so it’s just more and more hanging out….
Ok gotta jet…
Open Email: "FROM SOMALIA TO MSS LAURA BUSH"
I found it amazing when I discovered that Somalis in their 20s and 30s are in the habit of writing open emails about political issues they are frustrated with to the person responsible with a CC list of every single other Somali person with email in the world. If the initial email doesn’t reach the intended scope any receivers will hasten to make progress with the goal by forwarding it. How democratic!
This is a letter that was sent in May to Jendayi Frazer and Conde Rice by a journalist in Somalia. It starts with: “First, my condolences that you share a room with the most evil man in the world.”
I invite anyone to send me a translation.
FROM SOMALIA TO MSS LAURA BUSH.
To Mss Laura Bush.
Og Gondalaysa Rais
Og Jandai Faraser
Aad ayaad u mahadsan tahay gabadha ay warqadani ku socotaay waxaan kaa rajaynayaa in aad aqrin doonto qoraalkaan islamarkaasna wax ka qaban doonto maadaama cid kale wax ka qaban waysey .
Waxaan ahay nin Somali ah joogana Somalia gaar ahaan bartaha Somalia, waxaan ka soo barakacay magaalada Muqdisho oo aan kala soo qaxay qowskayga laakiin aan uga soo tagay shaqadaydii oo halkaas ku joogsatay ka dib markaan arkay sida wax u socdaan, shaqaydu waxay ahyd howl suxufi (Journalist) gaar ahaan waxaan ka mid ahaa dadka wax ku qora warbaahinta la daabaco markaas hala yaabin in aan warqad kuu soo diro baahi ayaa keentaye
Marka hore waxaan kaaga tacsiyadaynayaa dhibka ku haysta kaas oo ah in aad guri kula nooshahay midd ka mid ah dadka aduunyada ugu sharta badnaa ee caalamkan soo mara marka xiga waxaan kuu sawirayaa xaalada dhibka badan ee uu ninkaagu masuulka ka yahay ee ay ku nool yihiin haweenka Somalia iyo caruurtoodu.
Halkan iskuul lagama aado, halkan malahan Isbital, halkan malahan biya nadiifa halkan malahan meel loo dacwo tago halkan cuntadu way yartahay waxaa dhamaan maqan adeegyadii guud.dadkana aad ayaa loo dilaa
Meesha sidaan ah ninkaaga iyo dadka ay ka midka yihiin labada gabdhood ee ay warqadnai CCda u tahay waxay ka wadaan howl aad u qalafsan oo nolosha dadka baabinaysa gaar ahaan waxay ku garaacaan gantaalo waxay ku argagixiaan dayuurado aad u waaweyn, waxay ku taageeraan dad dhiigyacabyo ah waxay ka sheegaan been aan raad lahayn oo dunida lagu marin habaabinayo,waxay ka soo hor jeedaan dadkani in ay ka fakaraan danahooda waxayna waxaan oo dhan qiil uga dhigaan waxa loogu yeero la dagaalanka argagixisada arintaan waxay boqol laabtay colaada u dhaxaysa dadka caalamka ku nool iyo dadka Soomaaliyeed.
Mss Loora waxaa geeriyoodey dhamaan axdiyadii la galay ee caalmku ku xisaabtamayey waxaan shaqaynayn haykalkii iyo howshii Q Midoobay si kastoo loo mudaharaaday waxba tari waysey, xoriyatu qowl way u dhamaatay dadka dunida ku nooli cabsi ayey dareemayaa waxaan oo dhan waxay ka dhasheen waalida Maraykanka iyo bahalnimada ninkaaga markaas waxaan warqadaan furan kuugu soo qoray in aad nagala hadasho saygaaga marhadii la waayey xeer iyo qaynuun is hortaaga.
Sharaf ayey kuu tahay in ninkaaga aad xiliga jiifka kala hadasho in uu dadka ka daayo dhibaatada oo dadka loo daayo rabitaankooda
Ogow LAURA waxaad haysataa fursad qaali oo aad dadban wax ugu qaban karto maadaama ninkaagu Markanka madax ka yahay aysana jirin cid hoy kaleh dadka dunida,markaas waxaad ninkaaga ku dhahdaa ka qalee Caruurta iyo hooyooyinka caalmka gaar ahaan Somalia, waxaan kaloo kugula talinayaa la tasho gabadha kaa fiican ee Hilrey Cilinton oo horey ninkeeda ka talo siin jirtay siyaasada Caalamka
Mss Laura waxaad waydiisaa Jandaya faraser Somaliayada 2009 loo diyaarinayo doorashooyinka ma midda ku taal Geeska Afrikaa misse waa mid kale tan hayadey kugu tiraah waxaan kaa codsanayaa in aad ku tiraah beenley, tan doorasho iyo nidaam way ka dheeryihiin rajada nonlosha ayaa dhamaad ku dhow.
Lora waxaad raadisaa waxa ay qabteen kooxdii xiriirka Somalia kadibna ii soo sheeg hadaad hesho wax ay qabteen waxaadna iigu soo dhex qarisaa fariinta oo qoraal ah kiishka Masagada ah ee ay ku qorontahay USAID oo ay soo qaadi doonto Hay’ada Care International aniga ayaa ka heli doonee.
Dad ayaa laga yaabaa in ay ku qoslaan fariintaydaan waxaan idin leeyahay sida aad ugu qoslaysaan ayaan ugu qosaynaa aniga iyo Lora Bush
Ok jawaab wacan
Cilmi Nuurre
Gagudud Somalia
