The mythic storyteller Scheherazade healed the heart of a sultan gone mad and changed the course of an empire by telling stories for 1001 nights. Her feat offers ideas for navigating dark times with imagination, wiles, wit, courage, humor, patience and persistence.
The Story Briefly Told
and Five Considerations
Upon discovering that his wife had betrayed him, a powerful sultan determined never to be betrayed by a woman again. From that day forward he wed a maiden every day, slept with her one night and had her beheaded at dawn. His power was absolute. Three years passed in this way.
Scheherazade was the eldest daughter of the vizier, the chief minister of the sultan. She had been widely educated in the arts and sciences and was a repository of myths, fables and fairy-tales from the oral traditions of China, India and the Middle East. Because of her entitled position, her life and that of her younger sister Dunyazade had been spared, and the two had been somehow kept unawares of the atrocities. But when Scheherazade learned of the sultan’s wicked practice she offered herself as the sultan’s next bride.
“That is madness!” Scheherazade's father told her. “I forbid it.”
But Scheherazade persisted. “I know a way in which I might live, and if I do so I will gladly become the ransom for the lives of my sisters.”
She was wed to the Sultan. On their wedding night, with the sword of doom hanging over her head, Scheherazade asked:
“O sultan, my husband, if it would please you I wish to tell you a story.”
Now the sultan had heard no stories in a long time, save for the story of his own anger, rage, grief and pain.
“Proceed Scheherazade. I would perhaps be entertained by a little tale.”
He had no idea that Scheherazade was a master storyteller who recited poems and lifted her voice in song as well.
In no time, Scheherazade carried the sultan across the threshold of once upon a time into a magical world. As the night wore on he was enchanted by countless characters, vivid scenes and intricate plots. It was as if light and air had entered the room of a mind and heart long shuttered by pain and sadness. It was as if rain fell upon the ground of a soul long dry and parched stirring dormant seeds to life.
Hours passed in their chamber in this way until Scheherazade neared the dramatic conclusion of a story: "The sun gleamed upon the blade of the sword about to be swung to execute the good and beloved merchant."
“But oh, look my Lord!” Scheherazade said pointing to the window of their bedroom chamber. “Just as the sun gleams upon the blade of the sword in our story, so the sun the gleams in our window, for the dawn has come and with it the hour of my death and so I will not be able to finish this story which I’m sure you would agree has a most surprising and remarkable conclusion."
The sultan appeared to have just awakened from a dream. He had been deeply entranced by the tale and he slowly recovered himself and looked about. He seemed surprised to find himself in his bedroom chamber beside his new wife for in his imagination he was still far, far away.
Now the sultan faced a dilemma. For he did not want to risk being betrayed by this woman and having his heart broken again, but he did want to hear the end of the tale. And even more so, he wanted to travel again with Scheherazade into that realm of imagination where he felt free from the spell of his own pain and madness.
He straightened, eyed Scheherazade sternly and said:
“I will grant you one more day of life Scheherazade, so you may finish this little tale, but mark my words: tomorrow will be the last day of your life.”
She bowed to him and said: “You are good and great, just and kind my sultan and I thank-you for one more day of life.”
She returned and finished the story the next night, but began another. And of course she was unable to finish that tale as well by the next dawn. And so she was granted another day of life, and another, and another, and another.
As you may know, with a sword of death hanging over her head each night, the brave and wise Scheherazade told stories for 1001 nights to the sultan. The stories were profound and ribald, enchanting and alarming and filled with the pulsing, throbbing, wild and colorful stuff of life. And in time the countless tales opened the sultan’s mind to countless ways of seeing, being and thinking. He saw the world through the eyes and felt the feelings through the hearts of many characters, foolish and wise, good-hearted and wicked, conniving and courageous. In time he saw himself and the world clearly again and began to rule justly once more. In time the many threads of the stories seemed to weave together the torn fabric of his spirit, to heal his heart and restore compassion and kindness to his soul. And in time, well, we've run out of time, but I will finish the story on another occasion and I'm sure you will agree it has a most surprising conclusion!
There is much to glean from the story but here are five considerations from my own thoughts.
1. The sultan's rage and grief had imprisoned him in a single story of pain. We can all be reduced to a mono-narrative when overwhelmed by loss. But, the old saying goes, "A zealot has only one story, but a wise person has many." Scheherazade fed the impoverished imagination of the sultan with the soul food of many tales from myriad traditions.
2. Scheherazade told stories with a sword of death hanging over her head each night. She disarmed the sultan night upon night with beauty, awe and wonder. The most trying and risky times recall to us the medicine we carry and the gifts we bring for healing and renewal for the larger community.
3. Scheherazade worked only at night, when the sultan was close to sleep and near to the dream-time. Had she confronted him directly about his atrocities it would have meant her death. Somehow she understood that the sultan had lost his capacity to dream or envision a future any different from his present. Her stories re-seeded his imaginative life.
4. The nightly ritual of storytelling ushered the sultan into a timeless realm of unfettered imagination and possibility. Scheherazade remembered and told tales that helped the sultan re-member forgotten parts of himself. As the saying goes: "Every day sing, dance, tell stories and be silent. These are the healing salves of the human spirit." Anon.
5. In these times, when independent thought and freedom of choice seems to narrow each day, Scheherazade reminds us that we are not alone, that emissaries of imagination and wisdom abound, that magic is ever afoot and that seeds of healing and renewal lie within us all. May we remember on this day to scatter them far and wide.
Will Hornyak
July 4, 2022
