_The letters of Raden Adjeng Kartini were first published at the Hague
in 1911 under the title, "Door Duisternis tot Licht," (from Darkness
into Light). They were collected and edited by Dr. J.H. Abendanon,
former Minister of Education and Industry for Netherland-India. Many of
the letters were written to him and to his wife "Moedertje." Dr.
Abendanon has given me permission to publish this English version, which
is a selection comprising about two-thirds of the original book.
I also wish to acknowledge my debt to Dr. Leonard Van Noppen, who, when
Queen Wilhelmina Professor of Dutch Literature at Columbia University,
first called my attention to the book and told me something of Kartini's
story_.
_A.L.S._
_FOREWORD_
_When the letters of Raden Adjeng Kartini were published in Holland,
they aroused much interest and awakened a warm sympathy for the writer.
She was the young daughter of a Javanese Regent, one of the "princesses"
who grow up and blossom in sombre obscurity and seclusion, leading their
monotonous and often melancholy lives within the confines of the
Kaboepaten, as the high walled Regent's palaces are called._
_The thought of India, or as we now say, perhaps more happily, Java, had
a strange fascination for me even as a child. I was charmed by the weird
mystery of its stories, which frightened even while they charmed me.
Although I was born in Holland, our family traditions had been rooted in
Java. My father began his official career there as a Judge, and my
mother was the daughter of a Governor General, while my older brothers
had followed their father's example and were officials under the
Colonial Government._
_At nine years of age I was taken to the inscrutable and far off land
round which my early fancy had played; and I passed five of my school
years in Batavia. At the end of those five years, I felt the same charm
and the same mystery. The thought of Java became almost an obsession. I
felt that while we Netherlanders might rule and exploit the country, we
should never be able to penetrate its mystery. It seemed to me that it
would always be covered by a thick veil, which guarded its Eastern soul
from the strange eyes of the Western conqueror. There was a quiet
strength, "Een Stille Kracht"[1] unperceived by our cold, business-like
gaze. It was something intangible, and almost hostile, with a silent,
secret hostility that lurked in the atmosphere, in nature and above all,
in the soul of the natives. It menaced from the slumbering volcanoes,
and lay hidden in the mysterious shadows of the rustling bamboos. It was
in the bright, silver moonlight when the drooping palm trees trembled in
the wind until they seemed to play a symphony so gentle and so
complaining that it moved me to my soul. I do not know whether this was
poetic imagination ever prone to be supersensitive, or in reality the
"Quiet Strength," hidden in the heart of the East and eternally at war
with the spirit of the West. It is certainly true that the Javanese has
never been an open book to the Netherlander. The difference of race
forms an abyss so deep that though they may stand face to face and look
into each other's eyes, it is as though they saw nothing._
_The Javanese woman of noble birth is even more impenetrable. The life
of a Raden Adjeng or a Raden Ajoe, is a thing apart. Even the Dutch
officials and rulers of the country know nothing of the lives of these
secluded "princesses," as we like to call the wives and daughters of the
Regents, though they themselves lay no claim to a title which in Europe
ranks so high._
_Suddenly a voice was heard from the depths of this unknown land. It
rose from behind the high protecting wall that had done its work of
subjection and concealment through the ages. It was gentle, like the
melodious song of a little bird in a cage--in a costly cage it is true,
and surrounded by the tenderest care, but still in a cage that was also
a prison. It was the voice of Raden Adjeng Kartini, which sounded above
the walls of the close-barred Kaboepaten. It was like the cry of a
little bird that wanted to spread its wings free in the air, and fly
towards life. And the sound grew fuller and clearer, till it became the
rich voice of a woman._
_She was shut in by aristocratic traditions and living virtually
imprisoned as became a young "princess" of Java; but she sang of her
longing for life and work and her voice rose clearer and stronger. It
penetrated to the distant Netherlands, and was heard there with wonder
and with delight. She was singing a new song, the first complaint that
had ever gone forth from the mysterious hidden life of the Javanese
woman. With all the energy of her body and soul she wanted to be free,
to work and to live and to love._
_Then the complaint became a song of rejoicing. For she not only longed
to lead the new life of the modern woman, but she had the strength to
accomplish it, and more than that, to win the sympathy of her family and
of her friends for her ideals. This little "princess" lifted the
concealing veil from her daily life and not only her life, her thoughts
were revealed. An Oriental woman had dared to fight for feminism, even
against her tenderly loved parents. For although her father and mother
were enlightened for noble Javanese, they had at first strongly opposed
her ideas as unheard of innovations._
_She wanted to study and later to become a teacher--to open a school for
the daughters of Regents, and to bring the new spirit into their lives.
She battled bravely, she would not give up; in the end, she won._
_Raden Adjeng Kartini freed herself from the narrow oppression of
tradition, and the simple language of these letters chants a paean "From
Darkness into Light."[2] The mist of obscurity is cleared away from her
land and her people. The Javanese soul is shown as simple, gentle, and
less hostile than we Westerners had ever dared to hope. For the soul of
this girl was one with the soul of her people, and it is through her
that a new confidence has grown up between the West and the East,
between the Netherlands and Java. The mysterious "Quiet Strength" is
brought into the light, it is tender, human and full of love, and
Holland may well be grateful to the hand that revealed it._
_This noble and pure soul was not destined to remain long upon earth.
Had she lived, who knows what Raden Adjeng Kartini might not have
accomplished for the well being of her country and her people; above
all, for the Javanese woman and the Javanese child. She was the first
Regent's daughter to break the fixed tradition in regard to marriage; it
was customary to give the bride to a strange bridegroom, whom she had
never seen, perhaps never even heard of, until her wedding day. Kartini
chose her own husband, a man whom she loved, but her happy life with him
was cut short by her early death._
_It is sometimes granted to those whom the gods love to bring their work
to fruition in all the splendour of youth, in the springtime or the
summer of their lives. To have worked and to have completed a great
task, when one is young, so that the world is left richer for all
time--is not that the most beautiful of all the gifts of the gods?_