President's Message: Honeybees in Wonderland
Saturday, May 01, 2010
By George B. Schramm, LIBC President
Beekeeping is a diverse hobby. It lends itself to a variety of interests beyond the basics of keeping bees; which in itself is difficult enough, so developing a curiosity in other bee-related activities can be a welcome diversion. To name but a few, there are the crafts associated with bee products such as wax, propolis, and mead-making; the study entomology and bee biology for the scientific mind; the accumulation of apiary tools and gadgets, both new and old, for the collectible enthusiast (although every beekeeper probably does this inadvertently); and for the devotee of books, the bees of literature.
Books such as Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees, are more recent examples of a long tradition. As you probably suspect, bees, having spent a significantly longer amount of time on this planet than humans, found their way into literature from its inception. The Epic of Gilgamesh is, perhaps, the oldest written story on Earth (ca. 2,600 BCE) and although it doesn’t mention bees directly, Tablet VIII does mention a “consecrated bowl of blue, filled with butter and with honey.”
In Book II of The Iliad (ca. eighth century BCE), Homer employs bees as an analogy for the movement of soldiers on the beach of Ilium:
“The rest sprang to their feet, the sceptered kings obeyed the great field marshal. Rank and file streamed behind and rushed like swarms of bees pouring out of a rocky hollow, burst upon endless burst, bunched in clusters seething over the first spring blooms, dark hordes swirling into the air, this way, that way – so the many armed platoons from the ships and tents came marching on…”
I’m sure every beekeeper can readily picture this scene, having experienced up close the swarming of bees. Homer references bees again in Book XII, but I will allow you the pleasure of discovering that description for yourself.
James Fenimore Cooper, the author of The Last of the Mohicans, included honeybees in his last Indian tale, The Oak Openings (1848). The protagonist, Ben Boden, whose nickname is the French word for bumblebee, “le Bourdon”, is a bee hunter. In the first chapter, among the woods of Western Michigan in 1812, Ben demonstrates the mechanics of “bee-lining.” Using some honeycomb to capture some feral honeybees in a small box, he will use them to find the hive where he can harvest the honey:
“There they are, hard at work with the honey,” he said, speaking English, and pointing at the bees. “Little do they think, as they undermine that comb, how near they are to the undermining of their own hive! But so it is with us all! When we think we are in the highest prosperity we may be nearest to a fall, and when we are poorest and humblest we may be about to be exalted. I often think of these things, out here in the wilderness, when I’m alone…”
For the bibliophile with a honeybee bent, the girls can turn up in unexpected places. In Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865), after falling down the infamous rabbit hole, a confused Alice attempts to remember who she is by reciting a familiar poem. Of course the words don’t come out the same as they used to:
“How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
“How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!”
At first glance Alice’s poem may seem to have very little to do with honeybees, but the stanzas that Alice is attempting to recite, and Carroll is parodying, is a verse by Isaac Watts which is little remembered today:
How doth the busy little bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!
How skillfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
Have you found bees hidden in the pages of book? Let me know and we can share them in the newsletter and on our website. Until next month, happy reading!
Beekeeping is a diverse hobby. It lends itself to a variety of interests beyond the basics of keeping bees; which in itself is difficult enough, so developing a curiosity in other bee-related activities can be a welcome diversion. To name but a few, there are the crafts associated with bee products such as wax, propolis, and mead-making; the study entomology and bee biology for the scientific mind; the accumulation of apiary tools and gadgets, both new and old, for the collectible enthusiast (although every beekeeper probably does this inadvertently); and for the devotee of books, the bees of literature.
Books such as Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees, are more recent examples of a long tradition. As you probably suspect, bees, having spent a significantly longer amount of time on this planet than humans, found their way into literature from its inception. The Epic of Gilgamesh is, perhaps, the oldest written story on Earth (ca. 2,600 BCE) and although it doesn’t mention bees directly, Tablet VIII does mention a “consecrated bowl of blue, filled with butter and with honey.”
In Book II of The Iliad (ca. eighth century BCE), Homer employs bees as an analogy for the movement of soldiers on the beach of Ilium:
“The rest sprang to their feet, the sceptered kings obeyed the great field marshal. Rank and file streamed behind and rushed like swarms of bees pouring out of a rocky hollow, burst upon endless burst, bunched in clusters seething over the first spring blooms, dark hordes swirling into the air, this way, that way – so the many armed platoons from the ships and tents came marching on…”
I’m sure every beekeeper can readily picture this scene, having experienced up close the swarming of bees. Homer references bees again in Book XII, but I will allow you the pleasure of discovering that description for yourself.
James Fenimore Cooper, the author of The Last of the Mohicans, included honeybees in his last Indian tale, The Oak Openings (1848). The protagonist, Ben Boden, whose nickname is the French word for bumblebee, “le Bourdon”, is a bee hunter. In the first chapter, among the woods of Western Michigan in 1812, Ben demonstrates the mechanics of “bee-lining.” Using some honeycomb to capture some feral honeybees in a small box, he will use them to find the hive where he can harvest the honey:
“There they are, hard at work with the honey,” he said, speaking English, and pointing at the bees. “Little do they think, as they undermine that comb, how near they are to the undermining of their own hive! But so it is with us all! When we think we are in the highest prosperity we may be nearest to a fall, and when we are poorest and humblest we may be about to be exalted. I often think of these things, out here in the wilderness, when I’m alone…”
For the bibliophile with a honeybee bent, the girls can turn up in unexpected places. In Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865), after falling down the infamous rabbit hole, a confused Alice attempts to remember who she is by reciting a familiar poem. Of course the words don’t come out the same as they used to:
“How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
“How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!”
At first glance Alice’s poem may seem to have very little to do with honeybees, but the stanzas that Alice is attempting to recite, and Carroll is parodying, is a verse by Isaac Watts which is little remembered today:
How doth the busy little bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!
How skillfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
Have you found bees hidden in the pages of book? Let me know and we can share them in the newsletter and on our website. Until next month, happy reading!