Letters of a Javanese Princess

by Raden Adjeng Kartini

Her oldest brother came home. He had obtained an appointment in the neighbourhood and lived with his parents. If Ni had suffered before his coming, from the coolness of nearly all those who lived in the house with her, from their indifference to all that interested her, from her imprisonment, there now began a series of teasings and tormentings which added a thousand times to her distress. Ni was wild; she could not dance to the piping of her brother. "Young people should be submissive and obey their elders," was constantly preached to her; and above all, "Girls must be submissive to their older brothers."

But headstrong Ni could not see why this should be. She could not help it, that she should have been born later than her brother; that was no reason why she should be submissive to him. She was not answerable to any one, only to her own conscience and her own heart. She would never give in to her brother except when she was convinced that he was right.

At first he was astonished, and later he grew angry, when he saw that a little girl who was half a dozen years younger than he dared to defy his will. She must be forcibly suppressed. Everything was wrong that Ni did. She was severely reprimanded for each little fault. No day passed that brother and sister did not stand facing each other in anger. He with a dark countenance and stern words that made her heart bleed, and she with quivering lips tremblingly defending her good right to do something which he wished to forbid.

She was entirely alone in her fight against the despotism of her brother—her future protector, whenever she should have the misfortune to lose her parents, until she should leave his roof under the protection of the man for whom God had created her! He took very good care not to torment her when her father was there; father would never have allowed it, and he knew well that she was too proud to tell.

But the others who lived in the house were silent too, although they knew that she was within her rights. It would not do to allow impertinence, and the girl was impertinent; young as she was, she dared to say "No" to the "Yes" of her so much older brother. A girl had no right to do anything which would even partially detract from the importance of a man. It was not right for this girl to oppose her ideas to those of her self-willed brother.

In later years, when Ni remembered all this, she could understand very well why the man was so egotistical. Always, by every one in the house, he was taught as a child to be selfish, by his mother most of all. From childhood he was taught to regard the girl, the woman, as a creature of a lower order than himself. Had she not often heard his mother, his aunts, and all the women of his acquaintance say to him in scornful, disdainful tones, "A girl is only a girl"? It is through woman herself that man first learns to scorn woman. Ni's blood boiled whenever she heard deprecating words about girls spoken by a woman.

"Women are nothing—women are created for men, for their pleasure; they can do with them as they will," sounded brutally in her ears, and irritating as the laugh of Satan. Her eyes shot fire, her fists clenched, and she pressed her lips tightly together in impotent distress. "No, No," cried her fast beating little heart, "We are human just as much as men. Oh, let me learn. Loose my bonds! Only give me the chance, and I will show that I am a human being, a woman just as good as a man." She writhed and twisted, but the chains were strong and locked tightly around her tender wrists and ankles. She wounded herself, but she did not break them.

Too early ripened child, at an age when a young head should only be filled with dreams of merry play, she was busy with sombre dark thoughts about the sad things in life. It could not have been otherwise; she was not deaf nor blind and lived in the midst of a civilization which took no account of youth and sensitive feelings. Roughly the young tender eyes were opened to the realities of life, in all their coarseness, ugliness and cruelty. From her parents themselves she never heard a harsh word that would have shocked her pure mind or wounded her sensitive heart, but she did not live only with her parents.

O Death! why are you called terrible, you who release mankind from this cruel life? Ni would have followed you thankfully and with joy. She had no one to show her what was lofty and beautiful in life, and that everything was not low and vile. Ni loved her father with her whole soul, and although she lived constantly with her parents she could never lay her inmost thoughts before them. Coldly the strong Javanese etiquette stood between them.

Ni avoided, as much as she could, those people who with their cynicism had withered her; and while the manners and customs of her country did not allow her stricken little soul to seek refuge in her parents' arms and on her parents' hearts, she found comfort in those quiet, silent friends "books."