The Essential Gandhi: An Anthology of His Writings on His Life, Work, and Ideas

Overview

Mohandas K. Gandhi, called Mahatma (“great soul”), was the father of modern India, but his influence has spread well beyond the subcontinent and is as important today as it was in the first part of the twentieth century and during this nation’s own civil rights movement. Taken from Gandhi’s writings throughout his life, The Essential Gandhi introduces us to his thoughts on politics, spirituality, poverty, suffering, love, non-violence, civil disobedience, and his own life. The pieces collected here, with ...
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The Essential Gandhi: An Anthology of His Writings on His Life, Work, and Ideas

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Overview

Mohandas K. Gandhi, called Mahatma (“great soul”), was the father of modern India, but his influence has spread well beyond the subcontinent and is as important today as it was in the first part of the twentieth century and during this nation’s own civil rights movement. Taken from Gandhi’s writings throughout his life, The Essential Gandhi introduces us to his thoughts on politics, spirituality, poverty, suffering, love, non-violence, civil disobedience, and his own life. The pieces collected here, with explanatory head notes by Gandhi biographer Louis Fischer, offer the clearest, most thorough portrait of one of the greatest spiritual leaders the world has known.
“Gandhi was inevitable. If humanity is to progress, Gandhi is inescapable. . . . We may ignore him at our own risk.” –Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

With a new Preface drawn from the writings of Eknath Easwaran

In the annals of spirituality certain books stand out both for their historical importance and for their continued relevance. The Vintage Spiritual Classics series offers the greatest of these works in authoritative new editions, with specially commissioned essays by noted contemporary commentators. Filled with eloquence and fresh insight, encouragement and solace, Vintage Spiritual Classics are incomparable resources for all readers who seek a more substantive understanding of mankind's relation to the divine.

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"Gandhi believed in revealing himself. He regarded secrecy as the enemy of freedom-not only the freedom of India but the freedom of man. He exposed even the innermost personal thoughts which individuals usually regard as private. In nearly a half-century of prolific writing, speaking, and subjecting his ideas to the test of actions, he painted a detailed self-portrait of his mind, heart, and soul.

"Gandhi was a unique person, a great person, perhaps the greatest figure of the last nineteen hundred years. And his words have been preserved as they came from his mouth and pen."

— Louis Fischer

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781400030507
  • Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 11/12/2002
  • Series: Vintage Spiritual Classics Series
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Edition number: 2
  • Pages: 368
  • Sales rank: 206,709
  • Product dimensions: 5.12 (w) x 8.01 (h) x 0.79 (d)

Read an Excerpt

part one

the man

[ 1 ]

beginnings of a great man

[To the end of his days, Gandhi attempted to master and remake himself. He called his autobiography The Story of My Experiments with Truth, an "experiment" being an operation within and upon oneself. The following excerpts are taken from the book.]

. . . [It] is not my purpose to attempt a real autobiography. I simply want to tell the story of my numerous experiments with truth, and as my life consists of nothing but those experiments, it is true that the story will take the shape of an autobiography. But I shall not mind if every page of it speaks only of my experiments. I believe, or at any rate flatter myself with the belief, that a connected account of all these experiments will not be without benefit to the reader. My experiments in the political field are now known, not only in India but to a certain extent to the "civilized" world. For me, they have not much value and the title of Mahatma [Great Soul] that they have won for me, has, therefore, even less. Often the title has deeply pained me and there is not a moment I can recall when it may be said to have tickled me. But I should certainly like to narrate my experiments in the spiritual field which are known only to myself and from which I have derived such power as I possess for working in the political field. If the experiments are really spiritual, then there can be no room for self-praise. They can only add to my humility. The more I reflect and look back on the past, the more vividly do I feel my limitations.

What I want to achieve--what I have been striving and pining to achieve these thirty years--is self-realization, to see God face to face, to attain Moksha [Salvation--oneness with God and freedom from later incarnations]. I live and move and have my being in pursuit of this goal. All that I do by way of speaking and writing, and all my ventures in the political field are directed to this same end. . . .1

To see the universal and all-pervading Spirit of Truth face to face one must be able to love the meanest of creation as oneself. And a man who aspires after that cannot afford to keep out of any field of life. That is why my devotion to Truth has drawn me into the field of politics and I can say without the slightest hesitation and yet in all humility, that those who say that religion has nothing to do with politics do not know what religion means.2

. . . In the march towards Truth, anger, selfishness, hatred, etc., naturally give way, for otherwise Truth would be impossible to attain. . . . A successful search for Truth means complete deliverance from the dual throng, such as of love and hate, happiness and misery. . . .3

[As] I have all along believed that what is possible for one is possible for all, my experiments have not been conducted in the closet but in the open. . . .4

The Gandhis belong to the Bania [Businessman] caste and seem to have been originally grocers. ["Gandhi" means grocer.] But for three generations, from my grandfather, they have been Prime Ministers in several Kathiawad [Western India] States. Uttamchand Gandhi, alias Ota Gandhi, my grandfather, must have been a man of principle. State intrigues compelled him to leave Porbandar, where he was Diwan [Prime Minister] and to seek refuge in Junagadh [the nearby little state]. There he saluted the Nawab [Ruler] with his left hand. Someone noticing the apparent discourtesy asked for an explanation, which was thus given: "The right hand is already pledged to Porbandar."

Ota Gandhi married a second time, having lost his first wife. He had four sons by his first wife and two by his second wife. I do not think that in my childhood I ever felt or knew that these sons . . . were not all of the same mother. The fifth of these six brothers was Karamchand Gandhi, alias Kaba Gandhi, and the sixth was Tulsidas Gandhi. Both these brothers were Prime Ministers in Porbandar, one after the other. Kaba Gandhi was my father. He was a member of the Rajasthanik Court. It is now extinct but in those days it was a very influential body for settling disputes between the chiefs and their fellow clansmen. He was for some time Prime Minister in Rajkot and then in Vankaner. He was a pensioner of the Rajkot State when he died.

Kaba Gandhi married four times in succession, having lost his wife each time by death. He had two daughters by his first and second marriages. His last wife, Putlibai, bore him a daughter and three sons, I being the youngest.

My father was a lover of his clan, truthful, brave and generous but short-tempered. To a certain extent he might have been given even to carnal pleasures. For he married for the fourth time when he was over forty. But he was incorruptible and had earned a name for strict impartiality in his family as well as outside. His loyalty to the state was well-known. [A British] Assistant Political Agent [once] spoke insultingly of the Rajkot Thakore Saheb, his chief, and he stood up to the insult. The agent was angry and asked Kaba Gandhi to apologize. This he refused to do and was therefore kept under detention for a few hours. But when the Agent saw that Kaba Gandhi was adamant he ordered him to be released.

My father never had any ambition to accumulate riches and left us very little property.

The outstanding impression my mother has left on my memory is that of saintliness. She was deeply religious. She would not think of taking her meals without her daily prayers. Going to Haveli--the Vaishnava [Orthodox Hindu] temple--was one of her daily duties. As far as my memory can go back I do not remember her having ever missed the Chaturmas [a fasting period similar to Lent]. She would take the hardest vows and keep them without flinching. Illness was no excuse for relaxing them. . . . To keep two or three consecutive fasts was nothing to her. Living on one meal a day during Chaturmas was a habit with her. Not content with that she fasted every alternate day during one Chaturmas. During another Chaturmas she vowed not to have food without seeing the sun. We children on those days would stand, staring at the sky, waiting to announce the appearance of the sun to our mother. Everyone knows that at the height of the rainy season the sun often does not condescend to show his face. And I remember days when, at his sudden appearance, we would rush and announce it to her. She would run out to see with her own eyes, but by that time the fugitive sun would be gone, thus depriving her of her meal. "That does not matter," she would say cheerfully, "God did not want me to eat today." And she would return to her round of duties.

Of these parents I was born at Porbandar, otherwise known as Sudamapuri, on the second October, 1869. I passed my childhood in Porbandar. I recollect having been put to school. It was with some difficulty that I got through the multiplication tables. The fact that I recollect nothing more of those days than having learnt, in company with other boys, to call our teacher all kinds of names would strongly suggest that my intellect must have been sluggish and my memory raw.5

I must have been about seven when my father left Porbandar for Rajkot to become a member of the Rajasthanik Court. There I was put into a primary school . . . I could have been only a mediocre student. From this school I went to the suburban school and thence to the high school, having already reached my twelfth year. I do not remember having ever told a lie during this short period either to my teachers or to my schoolmates. I used to be very shy and avoided all company. My books and my lessons were my sole companions. To be at school at the stroke of the hour and to run back home as soon as the school closed--that was my daily habit. I literally ran back because I could not bear to talk to anybody. I was afraid even lest anyone should poke fun at me.

[When he grew older, however, he found some congenial mates and played in the streets. He also played by the sea.]

[An] incident which occurred at the examination during my first year at the high school . . . is worth recording. Mr. Giles, the [British] Education Inspector, had come on a visit of inspection. He had set us five words to write as a spelling exercise. One of the words was "kettle." I had misspelt it. The teacher tried to prompt me with the point of his boot but I would not be prompted. It was beyond me to see that he wanted me to copy the spelling from my neighbor's slate for I had thought the teacher was there to supervise us against copying. The result was that all the boys except myself were found to have spelt every word correctly. Only I had been stupid. The teacher tried later to bring this stupidity home to me but without effect. I never could learn the art of "copying."

Yet the incident did not in the least diminish my respect for my teacher. I was by nature blind to the faults of elders. Later I came to know many other failings of this teacher but my regard for him remained the same. For I had learnt to carry out the orders of elders, not to scan their actions.6

[But compliance at school did not preclude revolt outside it.]

A [young] relative and I became fond of smoking . . . we began to steal pennies from the servant's pocket money . . . to purchase Indian cigarettes. . . .

But we were far from satisfied. . . . Our want of independence began to smart. It was unbearable that we should be unable to do anything without the elders' permission. At last, in sheer disgust, we decided to commit suicide!

. . . But our courage failed us. Supposing we were not instantly killed? And what was the good of killing ourselves? . . .

I realized it was not as easy to commit suicide as to contemplate it. And since then, whenever I have heard of someone threatening to commit suicide it has little or no effect on me.

The thought of suicide ultimately resulted in both of us bidding goodbye to the habit of smoking . . . and of stealing the servant's pennies. . . .7

[Presently, adult matters claimed the child's attention.]

. . . It is my painful duty to have to record here my marriage at the age of thirteen. As I see the youngsters of the same age about me who are under my care, and think of my own marriage, I am inclined to pity myself and to congratulate them on having escaped my lot. I can see no moral argument in support of such a preposterously early marriage.

Let the reader make no mistake. I was married, not betrothed. . . . It appears that I was betrothed thrice, though without my knowledge. I was told that two girls chosen for me had died. . . .

Marriage among Hindus is no simple matter. The parents of the bride and the bridegroom often bring themselves to ruin over it. They waste their substance, they waste their time. Months are taken up over the preparations--in making clothes and ornaments and in preparing [menus] for dinners. Each tries to outdo the other in the number and variety of courses to be prepared. Women, whether they have a voice or no, sing themselves hoarse, even get ill, and disturb the peace of their neighbors. These in their turn quietly put up with all the turmoil and bustle, all the dirt and filth, representing the remains of the feast, because they know a time will come when they also will be behaving in the same manner.

. . . I do not think [my marriage] meant to me anything more than the prospect of good clothes to wear, drum beating, marriage processions, rich dinners and a strange girl to play with. The carnal desire came later. . . . Everything on that day seemed to me right and proper and pleasing. There was also my own eagerness to get married. And as everything my father did then struck me as beyond reproach, the recollection of those things is fresh in my memory. . . .

[The bride was Kasturbai, the daughter of a Porbandar merchant named Gokuldas Makanji. The marriage lasted sixty-two years.]

. . . I can picture to myself, even today, how we sat on our wedding dais, how we performed the Seven Steps, how we, the newly wedded husband and wife, put the sweet Wheat Cake into each other's mouths, and how we began to live together. And oh! That first night! Two innocent children all unwittingly hurled themselves into the ocean of life. My brother's wife had thoroughly coached me about my behavior on the first night. I do not know who had coached my wife. I have never asked her about it. . . . The reader may be sure that we were too nervous to face each other. We were certainly too shy. How was I to talk to her, and what was I to say? The coaching did not carry me far. But no coaching is really necessary in such matters. The impressions of the former birth are potent enough to make all coaching superfluous. We gradually began to know each other and to speak freely together. We were the same age. But I took no time in assuming the authority of a husband.8

. . . I had absolutely no reason to suspect my wife's fidelity but jealousy does not wait for reasons. I must needs be forever on the look-out regarding her movements and therefore she could not go anywhere without my permission. This sowed the seeds of a bitter quarrel between us. The restraint was virtually a sort of imprisonment. And Kasturbai was not the girl to brook any such thing. She made it a point to go out whenever and wherever she liked. More restraint on my part resulted in more liberty being taken by her and in my getting more and more cross. Refusal to speak to one another thus became the order of the day with us, married children. I think it was quite innocent of Kasturbai to have taken those liberties with my restrictions. How could a guileless girl brook any restraints on going to the temple or on going on visits to friends? If I had the right to impose restrictions on her, had not she also similar right? All this is clear to me today. But at the time I had to make good my authority as a husband!

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Table of Contents

PART ONE: The Man

1.) Beginnings of a Great Man
2.) Gandhi in England
3.) Gandhi Fails
4.) The Method Is Born
5.) The Struggle
6.) Victory in South Africa

PART TWO: The Mahatma

7.) Facing the British in India
8.) Segregation in India
9.) Civil Disobedience Succeeds
10.) Murder in an Indian Garden
11.) Non-Violence
12.) Gandhi's Road to Jail
13.) The Power of the Mind
14.) National Independence Is Not Enough
15.) Gandhi's Message to All Men
16.) Gandhi's Political Principles
17.) Belief and Human Welfare
18.) Sex, Sanitation, and Segregation
19.) The Liberty March
20.) How to Enjoy Jail
21.) Fast Against Indian Prejudice
22.) Blueprint for a Better Life
23.) Gandhi on Socialism and Communism
24.) Gandhi About Himself
25.) Gandhi's Advice to Negroes
26.) Love Versus War and Dictators
27.) "Quit India"
28.) Independence and Sorrow
29.) Last Victory

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