AND HONOR

UDGMENT

Too much cirtulatémz makes the

price

go down: ^Themore you^{areseem and}

heardfmm,

^the more commonyou

ap~

[Jean If

you^are

already

establishedina

group, temporary

withdrawal

from

^it will make you ^more talked

about,

even momadmired. Youmustlearn when ^toleave. Cre- atevalue

thmugh scarcity.

I15

'|‘l|l‘.lJ\\»ll.|. \\l)'l'l|ln Fl l\\'|'I’\(. .\lt(IK*§

Thefirm^manwhoMW

:1(*an1cI_/lcrii

The .\'e¢:r1rnl vnnmred wit/rmzlixtunw;

The thirddaredslip^a hnllm mum!il.\'hem}.

Fanxiliariivin(his ex1'5ten(,‘r3 .’l/h':I;e.\' ail’lizingx^tame.

for^whatmay^seen:

'12-rriixlvorbizarre.

lV][(’l'lIIIICC’UHF’fyffh Havelmrl timelo

<:cz‘[z'nzr1¢i:.n.

Becomesquite (,‘(lI1N7l()7l[7lLI(7(’.^Since

I 'mrmmixthaym’, I've lrczmiu_['.verx(im:I.r ]m.s'tml by^{the shore} Who,,\ponin,g^wmzv»

thing for-away a/(mu, Crmlrln"I resist the ximms

"AsuiI!A sail!

Amighzy mar2—r:f~^war!"

Flive miim.-’es iaiuriris Hpackethoot, And thenuskiff;^and

than(Ilink‘, /lmlfinally^somemcks imbhing^Izlmur.

Iknowo_fplmt_y'^-\m':l:

7}) whom this rim)»

applies- Pcoplewhom dirlcnrce

nmgmfies.

Who,^(‘low10,(Inn'1 amountIOmuch.

sral.I=,< rm)I-,«nl,r:s‘.

JlwwIll‘,LA FUNIAINL

|t’)2l—l(a95

116

TRANSGRESSIONAND OBSPLRVANCE OFTHE LAW

Sir Guillaume de Balaun ^{was a} troubadour who roamed the South of Franceinthe Middle

Ages, going

^{fromcastle to}

castle, reciting poetry,

^and

playing

^the

perfect knight.

^{Atthe castle of}

javiac

^{he metandfell inlove}

with the beautiful

lady

^ofthe

^house,

^{MadameGuillelma}

dejaviac.

^Hesang her his songs, recited his

poetry, played

^{chess with}

her,

^{and little}

by

^little

sheinturnfellinlovewith him.Guillaume hada

friend,

Sir Pierre deBar

jac,

who traveled with himand who was also receivedatthe castle. And Pierretoofellinlovewitha

lady

ⁱⁿ

javiac,

^the

gracious

^but

temperamental

Viemetta.

Then one

day

Pierre and Viernetta had a violent

quarrel.

^The

lady

dismissed

him,

^{and he}

sought

^{out his friend Guillaume to}

help

^{heal the}

breach andget^{him backinher}

good

graces. Guillaume^wasabouttoleave the castle fora

while,

^butonhisreturn, several weeks

later,

he worked his

magic,

and Pierre and the

lady

^werereconciled. Pierre felt that his love had increased tenfold—that therewas no

stronger love,

ⁱⁿ

fact,

^{than the} love thatfollowsreconciliation. The

stronger

^and

longer

^the

disagreement,

he told

Guillaume,

^{the sweeter the}

feeling

^{that comes} with peace and

rapprochement,

Asa

troubadour,

Sir Guillaume

prided

^himselfon

experiencing

^allthe

joys

^andsorrowsof love. On

hearing

his friend's

talk,

^{hetoowantedknow} the blissofreconciliation after^a

quarrel.

He therefore

feigned great

anger with

Lady ^Guillelma, stopped sending

^{her loveletters.and}

abruptly

^{left the}

castle and

stayed

away,^even

during

^thefestivals and hunts. This drovethe young

lady

^wild.

Guillelma ^sent messengers ^to Guillaume ^to find out what bad

hair»

pened,

^{butheturned themessengersaway. He}

thought

all this would make her angry,

forcing

^{him to}

plead

for reconciliationas Pierre had.

Instead, however,

his absencehad the

opposite

effect: It made Guillelma lovehim all the more. Now the

lady pursued

^her

knight, sending

messengers and lovenotesofherown. Thiswasalmost unheard of-—-a

lady

^never

pursued

her troubadour. And Guillaume did ^not like it. Guillelma’s forwardness madehimfeel she had lostsomeof her

dignity.

^Not

only

^washeno

longer

sureof his

plan,

^hewasno

longer

^{sureof his}

lady.

Finally,

after several months ofnot

hearing

^from

^Guillaume,

^Guillelma

gave up. She ^senthimno moremessengers,and he

began

^to

wonder-per- haps

^{she was}

angry? Perhaps

^the

plan

^{had workedafter}all? So much the betterifshewas. He wouldwaitnomore.-itwastimetoreconcile. So he

put

^{on his best}

robe,

^{decked the horse in its fanciest}

caparison,

^{chose a}

magnificent ^helmet,

and rode ofi"to

javiac.

On

hearing

^{that her} beloved had

returned,

^{Guillelmarushed to see}

him,

knelt before

him, dropped

^{her veil tokiss}

^him,

^and

begged forgive-

ness forwhatever

slight

had caused his anger.

Imagine

his confusion and

despairw-his plan

^{had failed}

abysmally.

^Shewasnotangry, she had^never been angry, she^was

only deeper

ⁱⁿ

^love,

^{andhe wouldnever}

experience

the

joy

of reconciliationaftera

quarrel. Seeing

^{hernow,andstill}

desperate

to tastethat

joy,

^hedecidedto

try

^{one moretime:}He drove her away with harsh words and

threatening gestures.

^She

left,

^thistime

vowing

^neverto

seehim

again.

The ^next

morning

the troubadour

regretted

what he had done. He rode backto

javiac,

^{but the}

lady

^{wouldnotreceive}

^him,

and ordered her

servantstochasehim away,^acrossthe

drawbridge

^{andover the}hill. Guil- laume fled. Backinhis chamber he

collapsed

and started to cry: He had made aterrible mistake. Overthenextyear, unable^toseehis

lady,

^heex-

perienced

^the

^absence,

the terrible

absence,

^thatcan

only

inflame love. He wroteoneof hismostbeautiful_poems,

“My

song ascends for mercy pray-

ing.”

^{And hesent}many letters^to

Guillelma, explaining

what he had

done,

and

begging forgiveness.

Afteragreat^{deal of}

this, Lady ^Guillelma, remembering

^hisbeautiful

songs, ^his handsome

figure,

^{and hisskillsin}

dancing

^and

falconry,

^found

herself

yearning

^tohave him back. As penance for his

cruelty,

she ordered himtoremovethenail from the little

finger

^{of his}

right ^hand,

^andtosendit

toher

along

^withapoem

describing

^hismiseries.

Hedidasshe asked.

Finally

Guillaume de Balaunwasabletotastethe ultimate sensation—-a reconciliation ^even

surpassing

^that of his friend Pierre.

Interpretation

Trying

^todiscover the

joys

^of

reconciliation,

^Guillaumede Balaun inadver—

tently experienced

the truth of the law ofabsence and presence. At the startofan

affair,

you ^{need to}

heighten

your presence ⁱⁿ the eyes of the other. _{If you} absent

yourself

^too

early,

you may be

forgotten.

^{But once}

your lover‘s^emotionsare

engaged,

^{and the}

feeling

^{oflove has}

crystallized,

absence inflames and excites.

Giving

^{no reason} for your absence^excites

even more:Theother person^assumesheorsheis atfault. While you^are away, the lover’s

imagination

^takes

flight,

^{and a stimulated}

imagination

cannot

help

^butmake love grow

stronger. Conversely,

^{themoreGuillelma}

pursued ^Guillaume,

the less he loved her—shehad becometoo

present,

too

accessible, leaving

^{no room for his}

imagination

^and

fancy,

^{so that his}

feelings

^were

suffocating.

^{When she}

finally stopped sending

messengers, hewasabletobreathe

again,

^{andto returntohis}

plan.

What

withdraws,

^whatbecomesscarce,

suddenly

^{seemstodeserveour}

respect

^{and honor. What}

stays

^too

long, inundating

^{uswith its} presence, makes us disdain it. In the Middle

Ages,

^{ladies were}

constantly putting

their

knights through

^{trials of}

love, sending

^{themon some}

long

^{and ardu-}

ous

quest—-all

^{to create a}

pattern

^{of absence} and presence.

Indeed,

^had

Guillaumenotleft his

lady

^{inthe first}

place,

^she

might

^havebeen forcedto send himaway,

creating

^anabsence of herown.

Absence diminishes

minarrpassianr

^and

inflame:

great^ones,

asthewindclauses^acandle

andfams aflre.

LaRot/wfo1u‘auId, ^1P§I3-I680

I'M I‘ \|ll'll l',\'^(H- l'Hl.z.<)<1k

lVhiIu.wr\'iIzg^under the Llulwflit:/'l.1(.

T'iz’IIJur),rlnwrllirzg^his obscurepnrimm,^mid

tohirrrmslcr‘.“Iam

goilzg^tnwnmlz.-rfar

awaylike:1M10141 goose,

“

“What_{do you}Imnuznby llml?"inquired^the Duke.

"Do you^see111:’trade?^"

said 'l"ien ./aninreply.

“Its5"/£5!is’/2symbol of rivililyz^itspowerful mlrms rzlggeslxlrmgtlz:

ilx(luring^mfighrany enemyzimz.~(e.r cuura3ge,'i1.s^1m~Iim;Ito

inviteoIhcr.~:5

fund^isubminczl shows /r.-mevolenrz-;nru1.[ml butnotleast,its p1mc—

rzmlily^Inkeeping^the IinteI/trough^thenigh!

gives^usan(tr/mtple of wrarilxtIn.s'[11't¢‘, /mwcw’r.of^v',h(¢Sf‘five virtmo, Ihe cockisduil_r killedIn,/ill^a(lixlaon your table.Why?^The

rwmalzis (hm1'1 Ls‘

fnurzd^withinourrmrli.

On theother hzmrl. the

wowgoose^trovt'rrr5in

zmefligiar^(IIlmmumlii.

Re,vtir1gⁱⁿyourgarden.

i1 ;>wy'.‘^an_vuur,ti.shu.v am] Inr/(es andpm‘/t'_<

yourmific»/.Tlmuglz devoidufany ofllzc CrI1'k3/in’^virzurls.yet youprizeI/nix‘ birdfor the silkynfms~ca:'z'irv.

'I“lu’sbt'iug. ^.l.s'hal/fly furlikea .\m/wgame.

"

K(?llf?1>'(’J’

AN/.'ll‘Nl’I'lllt‘\F.'>l|-, Iwmm ^' Yo Hsu. SLIV.H)”

1974

LAW 16 I17

118 LAW 16

OBSERVANCE OF THE LAW

For many^centuriesthe

Assyrians

ruled upper^Asiawithaniron fist. Inthe

eighth century

^B.C.,

however,

^the

people

^{of Medea}

(now

northwestern

Iran)

^revolted

against ^them,

^and

finally

^{brokefree. Now}the Medes hadto establishanew

government.

^Determinedtoavoid any form^of

despotism, they

^{refused to}

give

ultimate power ^to any ^{one man, or to} establish ^a

monarchy.

^{Without a}

leader, however,

^the

country

^{soon fell into}

chaos,

andfracturedintosmall

kingdoms,

^with

village fighting against village.

Inonesuch

village

^{livedamannamed}

Deioces,

^who

began

^{tomake a}

namefor himself forfair

dealing

^{and the}

ability

^tosettle

disputes.

He did this so

successfully,

ⁱⁿ

^fact,

^thatsoonany

legal

^{conflictinthe}

areawas

brought

^to

^him,

and his power increased.

Throughout

^the

land,

thelawhad falleninto

disrepute-——the judges

^were

corrupt,

^{andno one en-} trusted their cases to the courts any ^more,

resorting

^to violence instead.

When^news

spread

^ofDeioces’

^wisdom, incormptibility,

and unshakable

impartiality,

^Medean

villages

far and wide turnedtohimtosettle all^man-

nerofcases.Soonhebecame the sole arbiter of

justice

^{inthe land.}

At the

height

^{of his} power, ^Deioces

suddenly

decided he had had

enough.

^{He wouldno}

longer

^sitin the chair of

judgment,

^{would hear no}

more

suits,

^{settle no more}

disputes

between brother and

brother, village

and

village. Complaining

^{that hewas}

spending

^somuchtime

dealing

^with

other

people’s problems

^{thathe had}

neglected

^{his own}

^affairs,

he retired.

The

country

^once

again

^{descended into} chaos. With the sudden with- drawal ofa

powerful

arbiter like

Deioces,

^crime

increased,

^and

contempt

for the lawwas never

greater.

^{TheMedes helda}

meeting

^{ofall the}

villages

todecide howto

get

^outoftheir

predicament.

^{“Wecannotcontinuetolive}

inthis

country

under these

conditions,”

^saidonetribal leader. “Letusap-

point

^{oneofournumbertorulesothatwe canliveunder}

orderly

^govern-

ment, rather than

losing

^ourhomes

altogether

^inthe

present

^chaos.”

And_so,

despite

all that the Medes had suffered under the

Assyrian

^des-

potism, they

^{decidedto set}up^a

monarchy

^{andname a}

king.

^{And theman}

they

^{mostwanted to}

rule,

^ofcourse, ^wasthefair-mindedDeioces. Hewas

hard toconvince, ^{forhe wanted}

nothing

^{more to}do with the

villages’

^in-

fighting

^and

bickering,

^{butthe Medes}

begged

^and

pleaded—without

^{him the}

country

had descendedintoastateoflawlessness. Deioces

finally agreed.

Yet he also

imposed

conditions. An enormous

palace

^{was tobe con-}

structed for

him,

^hewastobe

provided

^with

bodyguards,

^anda

capital city

wastobe built from which he could rule. All of this^was

done,

^andDeioces settled into his

palace.

^{In the center of the}

capital,

^the

palace

^{was sur-}

rounded

by ^walls,

^and

completely

inaccessibleto

ordinary people.

^Deioces

then established the ^terms of his rule: Admissiontohis presence^wasfor- bidden. Communication withthe

king

^was

only possible through

^messen-

gers. No^oneinthe

royal

^{courtcouldseehimmorethan oncea}

^week,

^and

then

only by permission.

Deiocesruledfor

fifty—three

years, extended the Medean

empire,

^and established the foundation for what would later be the Persian

empire,

under his

great—great—grandson Cyrus. During

^Deioces’

reign,

^the

people’s

respect^{for him}

gradually

^{turnedintoaform of}

worship:

^{Hewasnota mere}

mortal, they believed,

^{but thesonofa}

god.

Interpretation

Deioces was a man of

great

^ambition. He determined

early

^{on that the}

country^neededastrong

ruler,

^{and thathewasthemanfor the}

job.

lnaland

plagued

^with

anarchy,

^themost

powerful

^{manis the}

judge

and arbiter. SoDeioces

began

^hiscareer

by making

^his

reputation

^{as a man}

of

impeccable

^fairness.

Atthe

height

^{of his} power ^asa

judge, ^however,

^Deiocesrealized the truth of the lawofabsence and presence:

By serving

^so many

clients,

^he had becometoo

noticeable,

^too

available,

and had lost the

respect

^{he had} earlier

enjoyed. People

^were

taking

^{hisservicesfor}

granted. The only

way to

regain

^{the veneration} and power he ^{wanted was} to withdraw com-

pletely,

and let the Medes taste whatlifewaslike without him.As heex-

pected, they

^came

begging

^{for himtorule.}

Once Deioces had discovered the truthof thislaw, ^{he carriedittoits} ultimaterealization. In the

palace

^his

people

had built for

him,

^nonecould

seehim

except

^afewcourtiers,^{and those}

only rarely.

^{AsHerodotuswrote,}

“Therewas arisk thatif

they

^sawhim

habitually,

^it

might

^leadto

jealousy

and resentment, and

plots

^would

^follow;

^{but if}

nobody

^saw

^him,

^the

legend

would grow that he^{was a}

being

^{ofadifferentorderfrommoremen.”}

AmansaidtoaDervish.‘

“Why

^doInotseeyou^mm

ofim?"

^TheDervish

replied,

^{“Becausethe words}

‘Why

have you^{notbeen toseeme?’are}

sweeter tomy^earthanthe words

‘Why

have you^come

again

^.9’” Mnlllofami. quotedin [dries S./uzh '5 (Jaravan ofI)remns_. ^1.968

KEYS TO POWER

Everything

^{inthe world}

depends

^{on absenceand}presence.^A

strong

pres-

encewill draw power andattention toyou—you shine^more

brightly

^than

those around you. ^Buta

point

^is

inevitably

reached where^toomuch pres-

ence creates the

opposite

effect: The moreyou ^{are seen} and heard

from,

themoreyour^value

degrades.

^{Youbecomeahabit. Nomatterhowhard}

youtry^tobe

different, subtly,

without your

knowing why. people respect

youlessand less. At the

right

^momentyou^mustleamtowithdraw

yourself

before

they unconsciously push

^youaway. It^isagame of hide—and~seek.

Thetruth of thislawcanmost

easily

^be

appreciated

^{inmattersoflove}

andseduction. In the

beginning

stages^ofan

affair,

^{the1over‘sabsencestim-} ulates your

imagination, forming

^{asortofauraaround himorher. Butthis}

aurafadeswhen_you knowtoomuch--~when your

imagination

^no

longer

hasroom to roam. The loved one becomes aperson like anyone

else,

^a person whose presence^is taken for

granted.

^Thisis

why

^theseventeenth-

century

^{Frenchcourtesan}Ninon de Lenclos advisedconstantfeintsatwith drawal fromone’s lover. “Loveneverdies of

starvation,”

she wrote, “but oftenof

indigestion.”

LAW 16 ^. 119

120 LAW 16

Themomentyou allow

yourself

^{tobetreatedlike}anyone else,^{it istoo}

late--you

^{areswallowedand}

digested

^To

prevent

this you need^{to starve} the other poison of your presence. Force their

respect by threatening

^them

with the

possibility

^that

they

^willloseyou^for

good;

^createa

pattern

^ofpres-

enceand absence.

Once you

die, everything

about you will ^seem different. Youwill be surrounded

by

^{aninstantauraof}

respect. People

^willremember theircriti~

cismsofyou,^theirargumentswith you, and willbe filledwith

regret

^and

guilt. They

^are

missing

^apresence that will^neverreturn. But you do not havetowaituntil you die:

By completely withdrawing

^fora

while,

you^cre- ateakindofdeath beforedeath.Andwhen you^come

back,

^{itwill beasif} youhadcomeback fromthe dead--anairofresuirectionwill

cling

^toyou, and

people

^{will berelievedat}your^return.Thisishow Deioces made him~

self

king.

Napoleon

^was

recognizing

the law of absenceandpresence when he

said,

^{“If I am often seen atthe}

theater, people

^{willcease tonotice me.”}

Today,

^inaworld inundated with presence

through

^{theflood of}

images,

^the game of withdrawal is all the more

powerful.

^We

rarely

^{know when to} withdraw anymore,^and

nothing

^seems

private,

^{so we areawed}

by

anyone whois able to

disappear by

choice. Novelists

J.

^D.

Salinger

^andThomas

Pynchon

have created cultlike

followings by knowing

^whento

disappear.

Another,

^more

everyday

side of this

law,

^{but onethat} demonstrates its truth even

further,

^{is the law of}

scarcity

^{in the science ofeconomics.}

By withdrawing something

^{from the}

market,

_you^{create instantvalue. In}

seventeenth-century ^Holland,

the upper classeswantedtomake the

tulip

morethan

just

^abeautiful

flower——they

^{wantedittobeakind ofstatus}sym~

bol.

Making

^{the flower scarce,} indeed almost

impossible

^to

obtain, they sparked

^whatwaslater called

tulipomania.

^A

single

^{flowerwas nowworth}

morethanits

weight

ⁱⁿ

gold.

^{Inour own}century,

similarly,

^{the artdealer}

Joseph

^{Duveeninsistedon}

making

^the

paintings

^{he soldasscarceandrare}

as

possible.

^To

keep

^their

prices

elevated and theirstatus

high,

^he

bought

up wholecollections and stored theminhis basement.The

paintings

^thathe soldbecamemorethan

just paintings-—t.hey

^werefetish

objects,

their value increased

by

^their

rarity.

^“Youcan

get

^{all the}

pictures

you^{want at}

fifty

^thou-

sand dollars

apiece~—-that’s easy,”

^{he once said. “But to} get

pictures

^ata quarter^ofamillion

apiece—that

^wants

doing!”

I In a g ^e:

The Sun. Itcan

only

^be

appreciated by

^{its absence.}

The

longer

^the

days

^{ofrain, the}

morethesuniscraved. Buttoomany hot

days

^{and the sun} overwhelms.

Learn to

keep yourself

^{obscure and}

make

people

demand your ^return

Extend the law of

scarcity

^toyour^ownskills. Make what you^areoffer-

ing

^{the worldrareand hardto}

^find,

^andyou

instantly

increase itsvalue.

There

always

^{comes a moment when those in} power

overstay

^their welcome.We have grown tired of

them,

^lostrespect^for

them;

^weseethem

as nodifferent fromthe rest of

mankind,

^whichistosay that^weseethemas

rather_worse, sincewe

inevitably

compare their current statusinoureyes totheirformerone.There isanart to

knowing

^{whentoretire.Ifit isdone}

right,

you

regain

^the

respect

you had

lost,

^andretaina_part^ofyour power.

The

greatest

^{ruler of} the sixteenth

century

^{was Charles V.}

King

^of

Spain, Hapsburg

emperor, he

governed

^an

empire

^{that at one}

point

^in-

clucled muchof

Europe

^{and theNewWorld. Yetatthe}

height

^ofhis power, in 1557,^{heretiredtothe}

monastery

of Yuste. All of

Europe

^was

captivated by

^{his sudden}

withdrawal; people

who had hated antifearedhim

suddenly

called himgreat,^{and he cametobeseen asasaint.Inmorerecent}times, the filmactressGretaGarbo was never more admired than when shere

tired,

in 1941, For^someherabsencecametoosoon—sl1e^wasinher mid- thirties—butshe

wisely preferred

^{to leave on herown}terms, rather than

waiting

^{for heraudienceto}grow tired of her.

Make

yourself

^too available and theauraofpower you havecreated around

yourself

^willwearaway. Turn^thegamearound: Make

yourself

^less

accessible and you^increasethe value of your presence.

Authority:

Use absence to create

respect ^{and esteem.} If presence diminishes

fame,

^absenceaugments^it.

Aman who whenabsentis

regarded

^{as a}

lionbecomes when

present something

^com-

mon and ridiculous. Talents lose their luster if we become too familiar with

them,

^{for the}

outer shell of the mind is more

readily

^seen

than its rich inner kernel. Even the outstand«

ing genius

^{makes use ofretirement so that}

men may honor ^him and so that the

yearning

^aroused

by

his absence may ^cause him to be esteemed.

(Baltasar

Grecian,

l60lvl658)

LAW 16 I21