Most poetry collections only include a portion of Hiawatha’s Childhood, just one chapter in the 22 chapter poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. We have a children’s picture book of that part, but I have never really “gotten into the story” much. It’s about an Indian baby who learns the names of the animals from his grandmother and calls the birds, “Hiawatha’s chickens” and the animals, “Hiawatha’s brothers”. It’s nice enough, but not really one I wanted to read over and over. But after reading Longfellow’s other poems and especially the longer Evangeline, I decided to find and read the entire poem to the children during our after lunch poetry time. I was quite surprised to find that, at our rate of 20-30 minutes per day for poetry, the poem will take us just over three weeks to finish. But so far the time and effort have been well worth it. The poem tells the story of Hiawatha, an Ojibwan Hercules. Read the entire poem here.
Longfellow begins:
Should you ask me,
whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest
With the dew and damp of meadows,
With the curling smoke of wigwams,
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations
As of thunder in the mountains?
I should answer, I should tell you,
"From the forests and the prairies,
From the great lakes of the Northland,
From the land of the Ojibways,
From the land of the Dacotahs,
From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands
Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
Feeds among the reeds and rushes.
I repeat them as I heard them
From the lips of Nawadaha,
The musician, the sweet singer."
He tells how Hiawatha is raised by his grandmother, Nokomis, a star that fell from heaven, to know the animals, birds, and ways of the forest.
Chapter five tells of Hiawatha’s Fasting:
"Not for greater skill in hunting,
Not for greater craft in fishing,
Not for triumphs in the battle,
And renown among the warriors,
But for profit of the people,
For advantage of the nations.”
And of how his prayers are answered by one who gives his life for the people, through a death and resurrection.
We just finished the first half. Hiawatha has wooed and won his beautiful wife, Minnehaha, Laughing Water:"Thus it was they journeyed homeward;
Thus it was that Hiawatha
To the lodge of old Nokomis
Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,
Brought the sunshine of his people,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women
In the land of the Dacotahs,
In the land of handsome women.”
Should you ask me,
whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest
With the dew and damp of meadows,
With the curling smoke of wigwams,
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations
As of thunder in the mountains?
I should answer, I should tell you,
"From the forests and the prairies,
From the great lakes of the Northland,
From the land of the Ojibways,
From the land of the Dacotahs,
From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands
Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
Feeds among the reeds and rushes.
I repeat them as I heard them
From the lips of Nawadaha,
The musician, the sweet singer."
He tells how Hiawatha is raised by his grandmother, Nokomis, a star that fell from heaven, to know the animals, birds, and ways of the forest.
Chapter five tells of Hiawatha’s Fasting:
"Not for greater skill in hunting,
Not for greater craft in fishing,
Not for triumphs in the battle,
And renown among the warriors,
But for profit of the people,
For advantage of the nations.”
And of how his prayers are answered by one who gives his life for the people, through a death and resurrection.
We just finished the first half. Hiawatha has wooed and won his beautiful wife, Minnehaha, Laughing Water:"Thus it was they journeyed homeward;
Thus it was that Hiawatha
To the lodge of old Nokomis
Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,
Brought the sunshine of his people,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women
In the land of the Dacotahs,
In the land of handsome women.”
Just another example of how “anthologies” often do just the opposite of what they intend. The short excerpt makes us feel like we “know” a work and often inoculates us from the desire to read the entirety, thereby missing the beauty of the whole.
Guest post by my wife.
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