The romantic figure of Antar, or Antarah, takes the same place in
Arabian literature as that of Achilles among the Greeks. The Cid in
Spain, Orlando in Italy, and Arthur in England, are similar examples of
national ideals put forth by poets and romance writers as embodiments of
a certain half-mythic age of chivalry, when personal valor, prudence,
generosity, and high feeling gave the warrior an admitted preeminence
among his fellows. The literature of Arabia is indeed rich in novels and
tales. The "Thousand and One Nights" is of world-wide reputation, but
the "Romance of Antar" is much less artificial, more expressive of high
moral principles, and certainly superior in literary style to the
fantastic recitals of the coffee house and bazaar, in which Sindbad and
Morgiana figure. A true picture of Bedouin society, in the centuries
before Mohammed had conquered the Arabian peninsula, is given us in the
charming episodes of Antar. We see the encampments of the tribe, the
camels yielding milk and flesh for food, the women friends and
councillors of their husbands, the boys inured to arms from early days,
the careful breeding of horses, the songs of poet and minstrel stirring
all hearts, the mail-clad lines of warriors with lance and sword, the
supreme power of the King--often dealing out justice with stern, sudden,
and inflexible ferocity. Among these surroundings Antar appears, a
dazzling and irresistible warrior and a poet of wonderful power. The
Arab classics, in years long before Mohammed had taken the Kaaba and
made it the talisman of his creed, were hung in the little shrine where
the black volcanic stone was kept. They were known as Maallakat, or
Suspended Books, which had the same meaning among Arabian literati as
the term classic bore among the Italian scholars of the Renaissance.
Numbered with these books of the Kaaba were the poems of Antar, who was
thus the Taliessin of Arabian chivalry.
It is indeed necessary to recollect that in reading the episodes of
Antar we have been taken back to the heroic age in the Arabian
peninsula. War is considered the noblest occupation of a man, and Khaled
despises the love of a noble maiden "from pride in his passion for war."
Antar has his famous horse as the Cid had his Babicca, and his
irresistible sword as Arthur his Excalibur. The wealth of chiefs and
kings consists in horses and camels; there is no mention of money or
jewelry. When a wager is made the stakes are a hundred camels. The
commercial spirit of the Arabian Nights is wanting in this spirited
romance of chivalry. The Arabs had sunk to a race of mere traders when
Aladdin became possessed of his lamp, and the trickery, greed, and
avarice of peddlers and merchants are exhibited in incident after
incident of the "Thousand and One Nights." War is despised or feared,
courage less to be relied upon than astute knavery, and one of the facts
that strikes us is the general frivolity, dishonesty, and cruelty which
prevail through the tales of Bagdad. The opposite is the case with
Antar. Natural passion has full play, but nobility of character is taken
seriously, and generosity and sensibility of heart are portrayed with
truthfulness and naiveté. Of course the whole romance is a collection of
many romantic stories: it has no epic unity. It will remind the reader
of the "Morte d'Arthur" of Sir Thomas Malory, rather than of the
"Iliad." We have chosen the most striking of these episodes as best
calculated to serve as genuine specimens of Arabian literature. They
will transport the modern reader into a new world--which is yet the old,
long vanished world of pastoral simplicity and warlike enthusiasm, in
primitive Arabia. But the novelty lies in the plot of the tales. Djaida
and Khaled, Antar and Ibla, and the race between Shidoub and the great
racers Dahir and Ghabra, bring before our eyes with singular freshness
the character of a civilization, a domestic life, a political system,
which were not wanting in refinement, purity, and justice. The
conception of such a dramatic personage as Antar would be original in
the highest degree, if it were not based upon historic fact. Antar is a
more real personage than Arthur, and quite as real and historic as the
Cid. Yet his adventures remind us very much of those which run through
the story of the Round Table.
The Arabs, in the days of romance, were a collection of tribes and
families whose tents and villages were spread along the Red Sea, between
Egypt and the Indian Ocean. There were some tribes more powerful than
others, and the result of their tyranny was often bitter war. There was
no central monarchy, no priesthood, and no written law. The only stable
and independent unit was the family. Domestic life with its purest
virtues constituted the strong point amongst the Arabian tribes, where
gentleness, free obedience, and forbearance were conspicuous. Each tribe
bore the name of its first ancestor, and from him and his successors
came down a traditionary, unwritten law, the violation of which was
considered the most heinous of offences. There was no settled religion
before the conquest of Mohammed; each tribe and each family worshipped
whom they would--celestial spirits, sun and moon, or certain idols. In
the account given in Antar of the Council of War, the ancients, or old
men of the tribe, came forth with idols or amulets round their necks,
and the whole account of the council, in which the bard as well as the
orator addressed the people, is strictly accurate in historic details.
The custom of infanticide in the case of female children was perfectly
authorized among the Arabs, and illustrates the motive of the pretty
episode of Khaled and Djaida. War was individual and personal among the
Arabs, and murder was atoned for by murder, or by the price of a certain
number of camels. Raising of horses, peaceful contests in arms, or
poetic competitions where each bard recited in public his compositions,
formed their amusements. They were very sensible to the charms of music,
poetry and oratory, and as a general rule the Arab chieftain was brave,
generous, and munificent.
All these historic facts are fully reflected in the highly emotional
tale of "Antar," which is the greatest of all the national romances of
Arabia. It would scarcely be possible to fix upon any individual writer
as its author, for it has been edited over and over again by Arabian
scribes, each adding his own glosses and enriching it with incidents.
Its original date may have been the sixth century of our era, about five
hundred years before the production of the "Thousand and One Nights."