Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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85 of 88 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Quite frankly, the most beautiful book I have ever read., July 5, 1997
By A Customer
At the risk of cliche, if you only buy a single
book this year, please do yourself a favor and
make it "The Essential Rumi." Rumi is for
Americans who think that Islam is all about harems
and terrorists. A sultry serenade to God, Rumi's
poetry explodes in the soul with a beautiful force
that tears down the wall between the individual
and the Divine. Jelaluddin Rumi was a 13th
Century Sufi mystic, the founder of the so-called
"whirling dervishes", whose inner exploration
allowed him to attain a rare level of enlightenment
and connection with God. His poems resonate with
truth and wisdom so earnest that it is impossible
not to be swept away on a tide of pure spiritual
longing and fulfillment. This is a book for
anyone who loves poetry, religion, God, or love.
And if you don't love these things now, you will
by the time you finish "The Essential Rumi."
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138 of 148 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Look right here for Rumi's essence, September 16, 2005
Don't let the one-star Spotlight Review above entitled "Look elsewhere for Rumi's essence (November 16, 1999)" drive you away from a great read. This book captures Rumi's essence like no other. And despite what that negative reviewer says, author and poet Coleman Barks is very well qualified to bring Rumi to a modern English audience. Consider these four points:
1) First, and most important, Barks loves Rumi; he loves Rumi's poetry; he loves that presence Rumi's poetry celebrates and explores. In his negative review, "A Customer" implies Sufi poetry employs some kind of mantric magic when he says that "their poems are actually precise and carefully constructed technical instruments designed to have very specific effects on the reader under the right circumstances." Please. Rumi himself makes plain throughout his works that the point of his poetry - and of Sufism - is not technique. The point is love: "Rub your eyes, and look again at love, with love." Rumi would have been the last person in the world to insist on strict adherence to technique, or compulsive literal translation. He was about soul, and transformation, and he said over and over again that the only real magic was love. That's the real essence of Rumi. And maybe Barks has been able to translate Rumi's poetry so effectively because he's coming from the heart and the soul, and not just the head.
2) Second, Barks is a well-known American poet in his own right, a retired professor of English at Georgia University. He's studied the life and work of Rumi intensively for over thirty years. And he was a personal student of the great Sufi teacher Bawa Muhaiyaddeen for many years, so he knows something about Sufism and Rumi's "path of love" from direct personal experience.
3) Third, while it is true that Barks does not read Rumi in the original Persian, his modern English versions of Rumi are based on the painstaking study of the best critical English editions of Rumi available, including those of Moyne, Arberry and Nicholson - and, if you want to know why Barks chose to go beyond these literal translations and create his own modern versions of Rumi in plain English, try reading a critical edition like Nicholson's: yes, it's a literal translation, and it's very scholarly, but it's almost unreadable. In fact, it's torture. Scholarship is important, but poetry should be a joy.
4) Finally, Barks must know something, because he just got an honorary doctorate from the Department of Persian Language and Literature at the University of Tehran for his translations of Rumi. (Here's the announcement: "The Diploma of Honorary Doctorate of the University of Tehran in the field of Persian Language and Literature will be granted to Professor Coleman Barks, Poet and Professor Emeritus of English, University of Georgia, USA, for translating the poetry of Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi, the great Iranian poet and philosopher at 10:00-12:00 a.m. on Wednesday, May 17, 2006 at Ferdowsi Hall, Faculty of Literature and Humanities, University of Tehran.") And Barks is respected by other modern Iranian-American writers. For instance, on page 286 of his new book "No god but God; the Origins, Evolution and Future of Islam", Reza Aslan - who was born in Iran and now lives in the US - acknowledges that "The best translations of Rumi include Coleman Barks, The Essential Rumi (1995), and the two-volume Mystical Poems of Rumi by A. J. Arberry (1968)..."
There are lots of versions of Rumi out there, including the literal translations like Arberry's or Nicholson's. Barks' obviously respects these literal translations tremendously. They do capture the letter. But Barks frees the spirit. Let me conclude by quoting a wonderful story Barks tells about translating the essence of Rumi's poems. This is from page 180-181 of his new book, "The Soul of Rumi":
Barks writes: "Perhaps presence is so elusive because of those continually disintegrating and reconstituting motions called 'fana' and 'baqa': the wild longing to dissolve in God and then the coming back in the kind hand that reaches to help. That motion is the subject of Rumi's poetry, or it might be better to say that his poetry enjoys the play of presence and absence, through the mind, through desire, love, deep silence, the whole conversational dance of existence, the being of Being. Flowers and fish are doing calligraphy with their moving about. The great sun outside and the sun inside each human hum together. The bright core of their resonance is who we are. I love this Hasidic story about the transmission of such fire:
"When the Baal Shem Tov had difficult work to do, he would go to a certain place in the woods, where he made a fire and meditated. In the spontaneous prayers that came through him then the work that needed to get done was done. A generation later the Maggid of Meseritz was given the same work. He went to the place in the forest and said, "I no longer know how to light the fire and meditate, but I can say the prayers." What needed to happen, happened. A generation after that it came to Moshe Leib of Sassov to do the work. He went into the woods and spoke, "I do not know the fire meditation or the prayers, but I still come to this place where the Baal Shem and the great Maggid came. I hope that's enough." And it was. After another twenty years, Israel of Rishin was called to the task. "I do not know the place, the fire, the meditation, or the prayers but here, inside, sitting at table I can tell the story of how it used to go." The story had the same effect as the wilderness retreat, the fire meditation, and the prayers that came to the Baal Shem Tov, the Maggid, and Rabbi Moshe Leib."
Barks continues: "One might follow the sequence of the anecdote and say that it shows the diminishing of a living tradition. Or one can hear in it that the mystery of doing work takes many forms, and the same continuous efficacy is there no matter whether it's the Baal Shem in solemn silence before the fire in the woods or, generations later, Israel of Rishin indoors telling the story to a table of friends. The vital God-human or human-God connection can break through anywhere at any time. There's no diminishing of it and no fading of grace. I like to hope that Rumi's poems, even in translation, carry the essence of the transforming friendship of Rumi and Shams, that that sun can reappear, whole and radiant in any one of us at any moment." (Note: Shams was Rumi's spiritual teacher.)
"The mystery of doing work takes many forms...." I think this is the real answer to the question of Barks' translations of Rumi: the essence, the presence, is not carried by the literal translation of form, but by the living transmission of spirit. How this happens is a mystery. But when it does - as it does in Barks' work - "there is no fading of grace". Don't miss this great book.
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104 of 112 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Some illumination, December 27, 2005
As a Persian I felt I can write some illuminating remarks here. I came to this verse from Mowlanaa Rumi in this book: "Let the beauty of what you do be what you love" and I looked a lot for the original poetry. It seems to be sth like this originally:
Today we are drunken(=in love) like everyday
Dont start worrying and start playing instead
For whom the beloved's (God's) face is prayer-niche
There are a hundred ways of prayer. (seeing God's face in everything...Everything is one.)
and Barks' translation:
Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a
musical instrument
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
you see they are quite different and the traslation seems to be distorted.
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