| Title | : | The Life of the Bee |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0486451437 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780486451435 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 192 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 1901 |
The Life of the Bee Reviews
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زنبوران عسل هم جشن عروسی دارند
با این تفاوت که یک عروس دارند و هزار داماد
و آخر این عروسی ،همه مهمان ها به خانه شان باز نمی گردند
قبل از فراسیدن این روز،زنبور هاي نر جوان حسابي براي خودشان پادشاهي مي كنند و كلي نوكر دارند و با شادي براي اين روز فرخنده حاضر مي شوند،اما اين تنه لشان نمي دانند چه فاجعه اي در انتظار آن هاست
يكي از روز هاي بهار ملكه از كندو خارج مي شود و جوان هاي مغرور در پي او مي روند.ملكه تا جايي كه مي تواند به سوي آسمان پرواز مي كند و يكي از زنبورها خودش را به ملكه مي رساند و افتخار دامادي پيدا مي كند. ولي نه او و نه زنبوران ناكام ،حق ورود به كندو را ندارند و از بین جامعه نر ها تنها آلت تناسلی داماد همراه ملکه وارد کندو می شود.همه نرها توسط پرندگان به باد فنا مي روند
ملكه با افتخار به كندو بر ميگردد و از اين وصال نكبت بار براي داماد، هزاران زنبور كارگر تحويل جامعه فمينيستي خود مي دهد
در اين جامعه فقط ماده ها هستند كه كار اصلي را انجام ميدهند و نقش نرها همان بود كه گفتم
موریس مترلينگ زندگي اين حيوانات رو كمونيستي مي نامند و مي گويد در اين حيوانات كه نه عشق و نه حسادت و طمع و ... وجود ندارد و همه باهم برابر هستند مي شود گفت كمونيست حاكم است
اما براي انسان ها كمونيست معني ندارد و جامعه كمونيستي چيزي جز بدبختي براي انسان ها نمي آورد،چون انسان ها داراي تفاوت هاي فراواني باهم هستند
كتاب هاي مترلينگ باعث مي شوند افكار آدم پر در آورند و جهاني را نظاره كند كه كاملا برايش تازگي دارد -
When was the last time you read a book that left you in a state of bedazzled wonder?
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Will we all die if bees disappear?
An infograph on the contribution of Bees*
Thankfully, the scientifically accurate answer is NO. That no however carries serious implications. Bees pollinate more than a third of human food and produce, which in an extinction scenario necessarily affects food security, that aside from the fact that you will struggle to exist in a world without honey.
The Life of the Bee is an entomological work by Nobel Laureate Maurice Maeterlinck first published in 1901. It has two versions,
The Life of the Bee and
The Children's Life of the Bee, the chief differences of which certain parts thought to be too violent and 'scandalous' for children were removed from the latter, like the killing of the male bee population.
To say that this is purely an entomological work would be a clear disjunction from its contents, for it is an examination of human relations as much as it is an entomological work on bees. Maeterlinck systematically inserts his observations of human society and juxtaposes it to that of the bees, an aspect which I found sometimes to be a nuisance. I found myself looking for the next entomological part and moving on and skipping from the philosophizing. Blame it on the bees, they seem to be a lot more interesting.
The book has illustrations like this throughout.
As this was published in 1901, there are some notable gaps in knowledge which seemed interesting for providing snippets of what have been, to this inopportune lack of knowledge Maeterlink writes, "It is sad, but let our reason be content to add, so it must be."(55).
The prose is eloquently constructed, but can be considered an inappropriately overblown writing when used in an entomological work.
Like his words on their sting:
"..there is a sort of dreadful dryness, as though a flame of desert has scorched the wounded limb; and one asks oneself whether these daughters of the sun may not have distilled a dazzling poison from their father's rays in order to defend the treasure they have gathered during his shining hours."(7)
On the description of the hive:
"And if the outlook at first appear rather gloomy, there still are signs of hope wherever the eye may turn. One might almost fancy oneself in one of the castles they tell of in fairy stories, where there are millions of tiny phials along the walls containing the souls of men about to be born. for here too, are lives that have not yet come to life." (56)
The Hive
Both quotations are also reflective of operative philosophies Maeterlinck has when writing. Again his identity as part of the symbolist movement left its mark, first, when he wrote on the 'spirit of the hive' as an abstract force by which bees are governed on certain aspects like their swarming, and second, when he engaged on his habit of anthropomorphizing elements of nature to social constructs, in this case, his Father Sun.
This is considered a classic piece in bee literature and I did end up learning a lot.
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*Courtesy BBC Nature, added the infograph in the review.
I have reviewed another work by Maurice Maeterlinck:
The Inner Beauty (4 Stars)
This book forms part of my remarkably extensive reading list on
Nobel Prize for Literature Laureates
This review, along with my other reviews, has been cross-posted at
imbookedindefinitely -
The life of the bee, Maurice Maeterlinck
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: بیست و هفتم ماه آگوست سال 1969 میلادی
عنوان: زنبور عسل؛ اثر: موریس مترلینگ؛ ترجمه: ذبیح الله منصوری؛ مشخصات نشر: تهران، کانون معرفت، چاپ سوم 1348، در 234 ص، اندازه 11 در 17 س.م
با دیدن این کتاب باز هم یاد دره ی «دوی دا» خویش افتادم: در آن دره ی زیبا در بهار، زنبوران عسل، هر گلبرگی را میبویند و میپایند. تا به موقع شهدشان را بنوشند، و برای زمستان خود نیز ذخیره کنند، در شانهای عسل ساخته از موم و ششگوش منتظم. دره انگار، کهن دیار آنهاست. زمزمه ها و بگومگوی افراد پادگان با شکوفه ها، هر موجودی را سحر، و به خواب میکند. حتی مردان کار هم که وارد دره شوند. با شنیدن وردِ وزوز زنبورها، خمیازه میکشند. سای هی بیدی کهنسال پیدا میکنند، و دراز میکشند. انگار، به بهشت گمشده ی خویش، بازگشته اند. ا. شربیانی -
Such a well-written book and everything that you need to know about bees! It's interesting to compare bees in relation to mankind too.
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My grandfather had a beautifully bound copy of this work on his little bookshelf behind glass. When I was young he suggested I might not be 'ready' for it. Because of that, it took on a sort of forbidden air for me. When at last I mustered courage to take it from its hallowed ground and read it.
He was right. But not as I had imagined. There was nothing remotely adult about it, or controversial in this day and age, nor conspiracy laden... it was at its core - a simple philosophical cum biological work of sheer genius.
Essentially "Life of a Bee" is a study of the social aspects of the hive. Borrowing liberally from other sources Maeterlinck weaves a masterful narrative around the cycles of life that exist in the natural world. Like most of his work, there is an underlying deep feeling of philosophical symbolism and harmony.
For me, however, it was not the biology or the philosophy that moved me - it was the lyricism of the writing. It felt like a certain type of poetry that resonated within my soul. Something in the pacing and phrasing that was amazingly moving. That it was a translation always clouded my perception as to whether the genius was truly Maeterlinck or Alfred Sutro. Perhaps it does not matter. In any case, the resultant work is one of the most exceptional books I have yet encountered. If my own writing in "The Missionary and the Brute" attains even a hint of that elegantly mystical lyricism, I will be exceedingly satisfied.
Of all the thousands of books I have read in my life, this is surely in the top five of all. It's simply that good! -
Partiendo del conocimiento de anteriores estudiosos de las abejas y aportando sus propias conclusiones en la observación de panales, el autor organiza una lectura que abarca un año en la vida de una colmena. Describe el papel reproductor de la reina, los trabajos de las obreras o la precisa arquitectura de la colmena, a la vez que introduce sus propias reflexiones sobre el parecido que existe entre la sociedad de las abejas y en el entorno humano.
No es fácil calificar este libro. Me explico. Para empezar, está escrito en 1901, con todo lo bueno y malo que esta fecha conlleva. Comenzando con lo positivo, en este libro encontramos un estilo poético que es muy difícil de emular en otros libros actuales de divulgación científica, casi en cada párrafo se advierte la admiración y la pasión del autor hacia estos himenópteros. Cuenta con una bibliografía actualizada para la época en la que se escribió. Incluso, se adentra en campos más filosóficos cuando intenta describir las habilidades intelectuales de las abejas comparándolas con nuestra adaptación al mundo.
La primera debilidad es llanamente cronológica. Cuando Maeterlinck escribe este ensayo, había muchísimas cosas que se desconocían y ahora se saben de sobra (por ejemplo, la alimentación de la que surge la abeja reina o por qué una reina sin fecundar solo produce abejas macho), lo cual deja el camino en una especulación constante. Hasta tal punto que yo - que no me considero un experto en abejas pero sí sé algunas curiosidades - iba rellenando los huecos de ignorancia del autor a medida que iba leyendo. Esto no deja al libro inútil, porque de todas formas hay muchos datos interesantes que se aportan sobre las costumbres de estos insectos. La segunda desventaja es que, sencillamente, la mitad de este libro no trata de las abejas, sino de circunloquios del autor sobre las maravillas ocultas de la Naturaleza. Por ello, pierde bastante fuerza técnica y confunde su género.
Simplemente es un libro bello usando a estos animales como tema, escrito con mucho cariño y un buen estilo. -
It seems to me that the main message of the book is that by observing and studying bees, these incredible creatures- their ways, behaviour, psichology and social life, trying to guess their reasons and motives, we, humans, ultimately learn a lot about ourselves and our mission in this world.
'And just as it is written in the tongue, the stomach, and mouth of the bee that it must make honey, so is it written in our eyes, our ears, our nerves, our marrow, in every lobe of our head, that we must make cerebral substance; nor is there need that we should divine the purpose this substance shall serve. The bees know not whether they will eat the honey they harvest, as we know not who it is shall reap the profit of the cerebral substance we shall have formed, or of the intelligent fluid that issues therefrom and spreads over the universe, perishing when our life ceases or persisting after our death. As they go from flower to flower collecting more honey than themselves and their offspring can need, let us go from reality to reality seeking food for the incomprehensible flame, and thus, certain of having fulfilled our organic duty, preparing ourselves for whatever befall. Let us nourish this flame on our feelings and passions, on all that we see and think, that we hear and touch, on its own essence, which is the idea it derives from the discoveries, experience and observation that result from its every movement. -
به نظر من این کتاب برای همیشه تو تاریخ می مونه و برای همیشه طراوت و تازگیش و نگه میداره چرا که مترلینگ بالغ بر ده سال از عمرش و صرف تحقیق و کنکاش در زندگی زنبورهای عسل کرد
این کتاب بقدری ساده و به زبان سلیس نوشته شده که هر کسی با هر سطح سوادی و سنی قادر به درک توضیحات مولف -
Quel beau livre! L'écrivain possède un style envoutant et nous parle d'un thème important et fascinant! Voici un petit extrait qui m'a particulièrement touché:
'Pourtant, il faut dire toute la vérité. Au milieu des prodiges de leur industrie, de leur police and de leurs renoncements, une chose nous suprendra toujours et interrompra notre admiration: c'est leur indifférence à la mort et au malheur de leur compagnes. Il y a dans le caractère de l'abeille un dédoublement bien étrange. Au sein de la ruche, toutes s'aiment et s'entr'aident. Elles sont aussi unies que les bonnes pensées d'une même âme. Si vous en blessez une, mille se sacrifieront pour venger son injure. Hors de la ruche elles ne se connaissent plus.'
A lire absolument! -
This was one of the favourite books of a friend of mine who died some years ago and had Alzheimer's. In the last years of her life, even when her mind was not so clear, she never stopped speaking about how much she loved this book. That's how important it was to her. This is the second time I read it, and it is as wonderful is I remembered it.
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Read it millions of years ago at the age of 9.
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Si fos una mica més curt i no s'embarranqués a vegades donant propietats d'intel·ligència a la organització de les abelles, seria una obra mestra. Hi ha passatges que l'estil és simplement deliciós, fa eriçar la pell.
(Per cert, m'he anat mirant la traducció espanyola en paral·lel a la francesa. No la llegiu, és molt dolenta, i es carrega tota la poètica de l'original en francès, que és el més important del llibre) -
Hará cosa de un año que comencé a interesarme por las abejas y la importancia que tienen en nuestro planeta.
No soy una experta ni apicultora, desde luego. Este libro no es un manual de cuidado de las abejas sino, más bien, una oda a esta especie tan importante y un acercamiento a su vida. Aunque muchas de las reflexiones del autor me han sobrado un poco, lo cierto es que me ha resultado muy, muy interesante conocer algunas de las curiosidades de la vida de las abejas.
Si te interesa el tema pero no sabes mucho, este es tu libro. A medio camino entre un ensayo y un manual, no se hace pesado y el autor, sin ninguna duda, es capaz de transmitirte el amor inmenso y la fascinación que siente por las abejas. -
Un objet littéraire unique, entre manuel d’entomologie (on apprend tout sur les abeilles et leur merveilleuse organisation), recueil de poésie (l’écriture est exquise), et petit traité philosophique.
Au fil des chapitres courts et percutants, Maeterlinck se sert de la ruche pour faire un parallèle entre la quête absolue, le but ultime des abeilles - le miel à tout prix - et celle de l’homme: la pensée et la recherche des vérités fondamentales, auxquelles tout est subordonné.
« Et de même qu’il est inscrit sur la langue, dans la bouche et dans l’estomac des abeilles qu’elles doivent produire le miel, il est inscrit dans nos yeux, dans nos oreilles, dans nos moelles (...) que nous sommes créés pour transformer ce que nous absorbons des choses de la terre, en une énergie particulière et d’une qualité unique sur ce globe. (...) Ce fluide étrange, que nous appelons pensée, intelligence, entendement, raison, âme, esprit, puissance cérébrale, vertu, bonté, justice, savoir (...) possède mille noms, bien qu’il n’ait qu’une essence »
Merveilleux. -
In his own words, don't expect this to be a "treatise on apiculture, or on practical beekeeping". Maeterlinck was a beekeeper, a poet and a philosopher and this 1901 book covers all three of his passions. I'm also marvelling that this is a translation into English. Although every sentence is exquisite, my favourite passages are quoted here (referenced by section number) and subtitled by my interpretation.
Nature knows best
I fear that I have already wandered into many details that will have but slender interest for the reader, whose eyes perhaps may never have followed a flight of bees; or who may have regarded them only with the passing interest with which we are all of us apt to regard the flower, the bird, or or the precious stone, asking of these no more than a slight superficial assurance, and forgetting that the most trivial secret of the non-human object we behold in nature connects more closely perhaps with the profound enigma of our origin and our end, than the secret of those of our passions that we study the most eagerly and the most passionately. (59)
There's so much that we don't know
And truly, underlying the gladness that we note first of all in the hive, underlying the dazzling memories of beautiful days that render it the storehouse of summer's most precious jewels, underlying the blissful journeys that knit it so close to the flowers and to running water, to the sky, to the peaceful abundance of all that makes for beauty and happiness - underlying all these exterior joys, there reposes a sadness as deep as the eye of man can behold. And we, who dimly gaze on these things with our own blind eyes, we know full well that it is not they alone that we are striving to see, not they alone that we cannot understand, but that before us there lies a pitiable form of the great power that quickens us also. (62)
Spring is coming
The winter life of the bee is not arrested, although it be slackened. By the concerted beating of their wings - little sisters that have survived the flames of the sun - which go quickly or slowly in accordance as the temperature without may vary, they maintain in their sphere an unvarying warmth, equal to that of a day in spring. This secret spring comes from the beautiful honey, itself but a ray of heat transformed, that returns now to its first condition. It circulates in the hive like generous blood. The bees at the full cells present it to their neighbours, who pass it on in their turn. Thus it goes from hand to hand and from mouth to mouth, till it attain the extremity of the group in whose thousands of hearts one destiny, one thought, is scattered and united. It stands in lieu of the sun and the flowers, till its elder brother, the veritable sun of the real, great spring, peering through the half open door, glides in his first softened glances, wherein anemones and violets are coming to life again; and gently awakens the workers, showing them that the sky once more is blue in the world, and that the uninterrupted circle that joins death to life has turned and begun afresh. (96)
Never stop learning
Nevertheless, when it is impossible to know what the truth of a thing may be, it is impossible to know that the truth of a thing may be, it is well to accept the hypothesis that appeals the most urgently to the reason of men at the period when we happen to have come into the world. The chances are that it will be false; but so long as we believe it ti be true it will serve a useful purpose by restoring our courage and stimulating research in a new direction. It might at the first glance seem wiser, perhpas, instead of advancing these ingenious suppositions, simply to say the profound truth, which is that we do not know. But this truth could only be helpful were it written that we never shall know. In the meanwhile it would induce a state of stagnation within us more pernicious than the most vexatious illusions. We are so constituted that nothing takes us further or leads us higher than the leaps made by our errors. In oint of fact we owe the little we have learned to hypotheses that were always hazardous and often absurd, and, as a general rule, less discreet than they are today. They were unwise, perhaps, but they kept alive the ardor for research. (103)
The hexagonal cell
There is one masterpiece, the hexagonal cell, that touches absolute perfection, - perfection that all the geniuses in the world, were they to meet in conclave, could in no way enhance. No living creature, not even man, has achieved, in the center of his sphere, what the bee has achieved in her own; and were someone from another world to descend and ask of the earth the most perfect creation of the logic of life, we should needs have to offer the humble comb of honey. (109) -
First published in 1901 my copy is a very late reprint, July 1930, but nonetheless a lovely volume. Maeterlinck was a playwright, poet and essayist, born in Ghent, Belgium. He won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1911.
The book is divided into seven chapters as follows:
I – On the threshold of the hive
II – The Swarm
III – The Foundation of the City
IV – The Young Queens
V – The Nuptial Flight
VI – The Massacre of the Males
VII – The Progress of the Race
Bees are special to me and in my search to know why that is, I partly found the answer here.
I am in very good company:
“From the beginning, this strange little creature, that lived in a society under complicated laws and executed prodigious labours in the darkness, attracted the notice of men. Aristotle, Cato, Varro, Pliny, Columella, Palladius, all studied the bees;....Aristomachus..,according to Pliny watched them for 58 years...”. NB also the fourth book of Virgil's “Georgics”.
The bees' world in part mirrors that of man, a supposedly superior being, who of course exercises some control over his hives. But the bees' system of government is in many ways superior to that of men. The hive is a republic, presided over by a Queen, who in turn obeys and enforces the “spirit of the hive”.
It is this spirit which will dictate the time of the swarm, the great annual sacrifice for the future of the race. It is then that:
“ a whole people, who have attained the topmost pinnacle of prosperity and power, suddenly abandon to the generation to come their wealth and their palaces, their homes and the fruits of their labour....This act ...undoubtedly passes the limits of human morality”.
Fascinating and beautifully written it is translated by Alfred Sutro, Maeterlinck's friend, who translated a number of his writings and to whom this work is dedicated. It doesn't surprise me to learn that Maeterlinck was a poet.
It was when he assumed the role of philosopher that my attention began to wander and I skipped large chunks until we sighted earth again! -
Ze spotkania z "Życiem pszczół" zapamiętam w sumie głównie wyborny, rozpoetyzowany styl, który jest jednocześnie niezaprzeczalną zaletą opowieści belgijskiego noblisty i jej największą wadą, bo odciąga uwagę od samej treści. A ta, choć ciekawa, gdzieś mi się rozmyła...
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Holy shit, I think I now have an overwhelming love for bees.
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https://nwhyte.livejournal.com/2872453.html
It's quite short, and it's basically about bees. Maeterlinck was a keen bee-keeper, he knew what he was writing about (in this case at least - a later book about termites was allegedly plagiarized), and his enthusiasm is infectious. As the quote above demonstrates, it's a detailed, lyrical and rather passionate work, if somewhat anthropomorphic.
The downside is that, like a lot of nature writing of the time (the book was first published in 1901), it is a rather politically conservative text. There is no room here for departure form the natural order; although queens may be overthrown and replaced, this happens only as part of the set natural cycle of returning to the status quo. Bees manifest the importance of knowing your place and sticking to it. I was irresistibly reminded of Laline Paul's The Bees, one of the first books I read for the Arthur C. Clarke Award, which turns exactly the same setting into a revolutionary parable. -
This is the only book I've read by a bee-keeper that I couldn't finish. Maeterlinck makes a rare good point here and there but spends most of his ink bogged down trying to hypnotize you to sleep, and succeeding.
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I would not want to be a male bee. Well, you get to enjoy a life of idleness, if you are lucky you get to have sex once and die while at it or if you are unlucky as many are, you get massacred by members of the community. There is no winning for a male bee.
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A beautifully written treatise on the bee. Maeterlinck was evidently a bee hobbyist and wrote this book from both a naturalistic as well as a poetic/philosophical point of view.
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"Maurice Maeterlinck (1862-1949), born in Ghent, Belgium, came from a well-to-do family. He was educated at a Jesuit college and read law, but a short practice as a lawyer in his home town convinced him that he was unfit for the profession. He was drawn toward literature during a stay in Paris, where he associated with a number of men of letters, in particular Villiers de l'Isle Adam, who greatly influenced him. Maeterlinck established himself in Paris in 1896 but later lived at Saint-Wandrille, an old Norman abbey that he had restored. He was predominantly a writer of lyrical dramas, but his first work was a collection of poems entitled Serres chaudes [Ardent Talons]. It appeared in 1889, the same year in which his first play, La Princesse Maleine, received enthusiastic praise from Octave Mirbeau, the literary critic of Le Figaro, and made him famous overnight. Lack of action, fatalism, mysticism, and the constant presence of death characterize the works of Maeterlinck's early period, such as L'Intruse (1890) [The Intruder], Les Aveugles (1890) [The Blind], and the love dramas Pelléas et Mélisande (1892), Alladine et Palomides (1894), and Aglavaine et Sélysette (1896). The shadow of death looms even larger in his later plays, Joyzelle (1903) and Marie Magdeleine (1909), Maeterlinck's version of a Paul Heyse play, while L'Oiseau bleu (1909) [The Blue Bird] is marked by a fairy-tale optimism. Le Bourgmestre de Stilemonde (1919) [The Burgomaster of Stilemonde] was written under the impact of the First World War.
Maeterlinck developed his strongly mystical ideas in a number of prose works, among them Le Trésor des Humbles (1896) [The Treasure of the Humble], La Sagesse et la destinée (1898) [Wisdom and Destiny], and Le Temple enseveli (1902) [The Buried Temple]. His most popular work was perhaps La Vie des abeilles (1900) [The Life of the Bee], which was followed by L'Intelligence des Fleurs (1907) [The Intelligence of the Flowers], studies of termites (1927), and of ants (1930). In later life, Maeterlinck became known chiefly for his philosophical essays. In 1932 he was given the title of Count of Belgium."
"When Maurice Maeterlinck, with a poet's sensibility and sensitivity, turned his attention to a bee hive, his observations turned into a masterpiece. In "The Life of the Bee," Maeterlinck illuminates the whole life and society of the bee, from the structure of the hive, to the movement and meaning of the swarm, to the role and activity of the queen. "The Life of the Bee" is for all readers curious about a brilliant thinker's mediation on a force of nature that, ultimately, holds lessons about the human race and our universe. Maurice Maeterlinck (1862-1949) won the Nobel Prize in literature in 1911. His plays, prose, and poems touched on philosophy, the natural world, and mysticism."
I had a difficult time reading and getting into this book. As you can see from the above summary of the author's life and the book, his background made the book filled with excess and flowery language. His description of the hives and the lives of the bees were wanderings and musings of his mind. I did not particularly like the book. I did find when he actually came to describe the bees themselves interesting and sometimes I was very shocked at the violence and cruelty of the life of the bee and the hives such as:
"In the heart of the hive all help and love each other. They are as united as the good thoughts that dwell in the same soul. Wound one of them, and a thousand will sacrifice themselves to avenge its injury. But outside the hive they no longer recognize each other....and this is the indifference which they regard the misfortunes or death of their comrades. There is a strange duality in the hive, those you have left untouched will not even turn their heads. With their tongue, fantastic as a Chinese weapon, they will tranquilly continue to absorb the liquid they hold more precious than life, heedless of the agony whose last gestures almost are touching the, of the cries of distress that arise all around. And when the comb is empty, so great is their anxiety that nothing shall be lost, that their eagerness to gather the honey which clings to the victims will induce them tranquilly to climb over dead and dying, unmoved by the presence of the first and never dreaming of helping the others...Outside the hive, they display extreme condescension and forbearance... They give their love to what lies ahead of them; we bestow ours on what is around. And we who love here, perhaps, have no love left for what is beyond."
"In very many colonies of the apiary this massacre will often take place on the same day. The richest, best-governed hive will give the signal; to be followed, some days after, by the little and less prosperous republics. Only the poorest, weakest colonies-those whose mother is very old and almost sterile-- will preserve their males till the approach of winter, so as not to abandon the hope of procuring the impregnation of the virgin queen they await, and who may yet be born."
The mating of the queen and the tragic end of her mate...
Nature is always a miracle and there is nothing left to chance:
"Each of the cells is an hexagonal tube placed on a pyramidal base; and two layers of these tubes form the comb, their bases being opposed to each other in such fashion that each of there rhombs or lozenges which on one side constitute the pyramidal base of one cell, composes at the same time the pyramidal base of three cells on the other. It is in these prismatic tubes that the honey is stored; and to prevent its escaping during the period of maturation, -which would infallibly happen if the tubes were as strictly horizontal as they appear to be...the fact that this arrangement allows the bees to fill the comb without leaving a single spot vacant, there are other advantages also with respect to the solidity of the work. The angle at the base of each cell, the apex of the pyramidal cavity, is buttressed by the ridge formed by two faces of the hexagon of another cell. The two triangles, or extensions of the hexagon faces which fill one of the convergent angles of the cavity enclosed by the three rhombs, form by their junction a plane angle on the side they touch; each of these angles, concave within the cell, supports, on its convex side one the sheets employed to rom the hexagon of the another cell..Every advantage that could be desired with regard to the solidity of each cell is another cell..."
"Of the three figures, the hexagon is the most proper for convenience and strength. Bees, as if they knew this, make their cells regular hexagons."
"It follows, therefore, that the queen must possess the power, while laying of knowing or determine the sex of the egg, and of adapting it to the cell over which she is bending. She will rarely make a mistake. How does she contrive, from among the myriad eggs her ovaries contain, to separate male from female, and lower them, at will, into the unique oviduct?
Here, yet again, there confronts us an enigma of the hive; and in this case one of the most unfathomable. We know that the virgin queen is not sterile; but the eggs that she lays will produce only males. It is not till after the impregnation of the nuptial flight that she can produce workers or drones at will. The nuptial flight place her permanently in possession, till death, of the spermatozoa torn from her unfortunate lover."
How swarms occur...
"It is generally admitted to-day that workers and queens after the hatching of the egg, receive the same nourishment, -a kind of milk, very rich in nitrogen, that a special gland in the nurses' head secretes. But after a few days the worker larvae are weaned, and put on a coarser diet of honey and pollen; whereas the future queen, until she be fully developed, is copiously fed on the precious milk known as "royal.""
The Queen:
"Her abdomen will be twice as long, her color more golden, and clearer; her sting will be curved, and her eyes have seven or eight thousand facets instead of twelve or thirteen thousand. Her brain will be smaller, ...The habits, the passions, that we regard as inherent in the bee, will all be lacking in her. She will not crave for air, or the light of the sun: she will die without even once having tasted a flower. Her existence will pass in the shadow, in the midst of a restless throng;''
"Four or five years will be the period of her life instead of the six or seven weeks of the ordinary worker."
"The habits, the passions, that we regard as inherent in the bee, will all be lacking in her."
The author-- tried to use the bees to explain a deep wrong that had been done to him against one of his neighbors or fellow villager:
"Another poison also, which I need not name, corrodes the race. To that, to the alcohol, are due the children whom you see there: dwarf, the one with the hare-lip, the others who are knock-kneed, scrofulous, imbecile. All of them, men and women, help each other; but the secret wish of every individual is to harm his neighbor as soon as this can be done without danger to himself. The one substantial pleasure of the village is procured by the sorrows of others. Should a great disaster befall one of them, it will long be the subject of secret, delighted comment month the rest. Every man watches his fellow, is jealous of him, detests and despises him. While they are poor, they hate their masters with a boiling and pent-up hatred because of the harshness and avarice these last display; should they in their turn have servant, they profit by their own experience of servitude to reveal a harshness and avarice greater even than that from which they have suffered....
Last summer his friends broke his right arm in some tavern row. I reduced the fracture, which was a bad and compound one. I tended him for a long time, and gave him the where withal to live till he should be able to get back to work. He came to me every day. He profited by this to spread the report in the village that he had discovered me in the arms of my sister-in-law, and that my mother drank. He is not vicious, he bears me no ill-will; on the contrary, see what a broad, open smile spreads over his face as he sees me. It was not social animosity that induced him to slander me. The peasant values wealth far too much to hate the rich man. But I fancy my good corn-thrower there could not understand my tending him without any profit to myself. He was satisfied that there must be some underhand scheme, and he declined to be my dupe. More that one before him, richer or poorer has acted in similar fashion, if not worse. It did not occur to him that he was lying when he spread those inventions abroad; he merely obeyed a confused command of the morality he about him. .."
His conclusion:
"A time then will come when all things will turn so naturally to good in a spirit that has given itself to the loyal desire of this simple human duty, that the very suspicion of the possible aimlessness of its exhausting effort will only render the duty the clearer, will only add more purity, power, disinterestedness, and freedom to the ardor wherewith it still seeks"
Do you agree with his conclusion? Will man naturally turn to good? -
L'arbusto di corbezzolo accanto al cancelletto di casa, investito dallo smagliante, tiepido sole ottobrino, brulica di api e bombi coi capi immersi nelle candide campanule dei fiorellini da cui suggono il copioso nettare. C'è nell'aria un brusio difficile da descrivere, a un tempo minaccioso e rasserenante; una musica antica come il mondo, che rapisce l'ammirato osservatore e lo connette al profondo, esatto mistero dell'esistenza e della rigenerazione. Sono gli ultimi giorni di raccolta per gli infaticabili insetti: ne trarranno un miele denso, dal colore del caramello e dal sapore amarognolo, che sfuma via via in dolcezza.
Nel giardino ci sono due siepi di lavanda, ora avvizzite; durante il vigoroso mese di luglio, nella canicola del mezzogiorno e fino al tramonto, le api vi ronzano attorno incessantemente e si afferrano avide, precise, esperte alle minute infiorescenze violacee, da cui si effonde un inebriante olezzo. Anche nel mezzo di un così modesto ritaglio di verde, all'interno di una città di discrete dimensioni, indifferente e dimentica, accade di partecipare all'arcano compiersi di un processo prodigioso, tanto carico di bellezza quanto di fragilità, sempre capace di suscitare stupore e commozione.
Da qualche anno mi concedo volentieri lunghe soste in trasognata contemplazione dei preziosi nugoli svolazzanti, che benevolmente fecondano la terra. A motivarmi non è solo la curiosità (non nego mi piacerebbe un giorno imparare a gestire un'arnia), bensì la riconoscenza, infatti ogni mattina la mia colazione consiste di croste o fette di pane spalmate di miele - miele d'apicoltore, nei suoi variegati aromi. Sono così grato, così devoto alle api per l'inconsapevole eppur altruistico sforzo, da nutrire per loro una specie d'impossibile affetto.
Me le figuro, queste creature, come le dilette ancelle della vera, suprema divinità: la natura. Prima bottinano nell'esteso universo solatio, poi riparano nell'angusta oscurità dell'alveare, dove svolgono gli eterni riti della cera, della propoli, dei favi, delle cellette, delle uova, delle larve, delle pupe, in ciclica, regolare palingenesi, assicurando la continuità dell'essente. Un'incombenza titanica, se si pensa alle loro dimensioni, alla loro delicatezza, ai pericoli cui sono esposte a causa dell'hybris umana. Ecco il miracolo più autentico, secondo me, in tanto umile, inafferrabile complessità...
Il libro di monsieur Maeterlinck è un capolavoro di poesia, sapienza, eleganza. Non mi permetto, da profano, di farne l'esegesi. Dico appena che va letto e fatto leggere, in specie ai giovani. Per quel che riguarda me, diventa uno dei miei libri della vita. -
Dodatkowa gwiazdka za piękne ilustracje.
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Un libro magnífico! Se nos descubre el asombroso mundo de las abejas comparándolo con el del ser humano, y lo hace a través de un lenguaje hermoso. Una delicia melífera.
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This book (though a little slow and not the easiest of reads in some sections) is certainly about the ‘life of the bee’ as the title tells us but it also much more. Maeterlinck gives us a wonderful account of the life of these fascinating creatures who live in a wonderfully organised society (though at times, rather vicious too), where they—like some ideal versions of human society—place the interests of the hive and the future (their guiding spirit) above their own. The various forms their intelligence takes, from the perfect structure and measurements of their hive, to their ability to work from opposite ends without seeing each other, still achieving perfect results or even their ability to sort out pollen by type and colour, among other things, never cease to amaze one. Maeterlinck, writing in 1901 doesn’t have explanations for all of these phenomena but that does not reduce the wonder they create, and his arguments, where he does, are strong and came across as sensible to me (though I am no expert on bees of course, and knew nothing but the basics a casual observer does). He also devotes some of his discussion to the many mysteries of nature—intelligence and intellect, which he somewhat equates, whether what occurs in nature is deliberate or mere chance, or even nature, the name we bestow upon the unknowable—for instance, in the form of the unseen forces that govern the life of the bee. What further makes this more than just a book about bees are Maeterlinck’s rather profound observations on human attitudes and notions of progress and purpose. Thanks Louisa, for the recommendation.
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Descorriendo las cortinillas de la cálida colmena, de la que brotarán uno, dos o más enjambres, Maeterlinck esboza una nueva narrativa, en la que el panal, paradigma de la geometría, la arquitectura y la ingeniería, es escenario de un fresco sin igual: el de las abejas domésticas. Desde la lírica, el simbolismo y el drama, este clásico de la literatura aborda a la comunidad de abejas en sus periodos de fundación de la colmena, cuidado y crianza de la realeza, el porvenir de los zánganos, esbozando entre las transparencias doradas de la miel temas vigentes para el hombre como la verdad, la organización social, la trascendencia de lo natural, los vicios y virtudes, la independencia y el pensamiento colectivo, la fuerza y el deber transformador, así como las peripecias de una evolución en medio de la cual el ser humano no resulta ser la piedra angular.
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Interesting and poetic, but personally, the pace was logarithmic. I honestly couldn't stop talking about the book when I started, but by about halfway, it had become so homogenous and slow that it was actually a little painful to finish. Maybe it's because I'm a lifelong bee enthusiast and so the material was a little repetitive and dated, maybe not. It's at least worth the ole college try for anybody interested in bees, insects, natural poetry, or the intersections between human and non-human experience.
