The Case for Hermits

Rippo

Three loveliest things -

moonlight, cherry-bloom, and now

I seek silent snow.

In my extensive research on hermits, I have come across many interesting facts concerning these elusive gentlemen and women - found in the origins of the ninth tarot card (no disclaimer inserted here, just don't mess around with tarot decks. Or ouija boards), the lives of 19th century poets and Taoism.

One traditional view of the hermit is as the formal ecclesiastic and reclusive forest wizard - found in the likes of such literary gems as Mort d'Arthur by Thomas Malory. It is interesting to note that such beings are often not the dour, people-despising, slightly unhinged that one might immediately conjur to mind upon hearing the word 'hermit'. In literature they are often depicted as self-sacrificial and compassionate, who have chosen the solitary path to further themselves spiritually. Which, ironically, could better enable these particular individuals to serve their fellow man, than if they inhabited the deepest recesses of human colonisation. Such a figure is found in the pages of the aforementioned Mort - in the episode in which Lancelot is wounded by the boar he slays. Upon the mysterious forest-dweller inquiring as to his need for medical assistance, he refuses (actually, he does more than this, he threatens the man), and the hermit leaves, incidentally bumping into another group of wayfaring knights. He requests their help in his mission, and they accept. Taking Lancelot to the recluse's hermitage, his wound is healed, but due to a fever and the consciousness of his sins, Lancelot cannot be healed spiritually (a little theological errancy here). Only the Sangreal - the Holy Grail - can help him. Staying with him overnight, Lancelot recognises the man's kindness and presuming a unique wisdom, asks him for advice concerning a dream. The insightful hermit reveals that Galahad is Lancelot's son.

More recent eremetical characters include Emily Dickinson, the poet and feminist; and Henry David Thoreau, the transcendentalist philosopher.

"You think that I am impoverishing myself by withdrawing from men, but in my solitude I have woven for myself a silken web or chrysalis, and, nymph-like, shall ere long burst forth a more perfect creature, fitted for a higher society." - H.D.T.