I
was writing a summary of this story, but then I thought you are valuable enough
and you should read the whole thing.
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The Emperor's New Clothes
A translation of Hans Christian Andersen's "Keiserens nye Klæder"
Many years ago there was an Emperor so exceedingly fond of new clothes
that he spent all his money on being well dressed. He cared nothing about
reviewing his soldiers, going to the theatre, or going for a ride in his
carriage, except to show off his new clothes. He had a coat for every hour of
the day, and instead of saying, as one might, about any other ruler,
"The King's in council," here they always said. "The Emperor's
in his dressing room."
In the great city where he lived, life was always gay. Every day many
strangers came to town, and among them one day came two swindlers. They let
it be known they were weavers, and they said they could weave the most
magnificent fabrics imaginable. Not only were their colors and patterns
uncommonly fine, but clothes made of this cloth had a wonderful way of
becoming invisible to anyone who was unfit for his office, or who was
unusually stupid.
"Those would be just the clothes for me," thought the
Emperor. "If I wore them I would be able to discover which men in my
empire are unfit for their posts. And I could tell the wise men from the
fools. Yes, I certainly must get some of the stuff woven for me right
away." He paid the two swindlers a large sum of money to start work at
once.
They set up two looms and pretended to weave, though there was nothing
on the looms. All the finest silk and the purest old thread which they
demanded went into their traveling bags, while they worked the empty looms
far into the night.
"I'd like to know how those weavers are getting on with the
cloth," the Emperor thought, but he felt slightly uncomfortable when he
remembered that those who were unfit for their position would not be able to
see the fabric. It couldn't have been that he doubted himself, yet he thought
he'd rather send someone else to see how things were going. The whole town
knew about the cloth's peculiar power, and all were impatient to find out how
stupid their neighbors were.
"I'll send my honest old minister to the weavers," the
Emperor decided. "He'll be the best one to tell me how the material
looks, for he's a sensible man and no one does his duty better."
So the honest old minister went to the room where the two swindlers
sat working away at their empty looms.
"Heaven help me," he thought as his eyes flew wide open, "I
can't see anything at all". But he did not say so.
Both the swindlers begged him to be so kind as to come near to approve
the excellent pattern, the beautiful colors. They pointed to the empty looms,
and the poor old minister stared as hard as he dared. He couldn't see
anything, because there was nothing to see. "Heaven have mercy," he
thought. "Can it be that I'm a fool? I'd have never guessed it, and not
a soul must know. Am I unfit to be the minister? It would never do to let on
that I can't see the cloth."
"Don't hesitate to tell us what you think of it," said one
of the weavers.
"Oh, it's beautiful -it's enchanting." The old minister
peered through his spectacles. "Such a pattern, what colors!" I'll
be sure to tell the Emperor how delighted I am with it."
"We're pleased to hear that," the swindlers said. They
proceeded to name all the colors and to explain the intricate pattern. The
old minister paid the closest attention, so that he could tell it all to the
Emperor. And so he did.
The swindlers at once asked for more money, more silk and gold thread,
to get on with the weaving. But it all went into their pockets. Not a thread
went into the looms, though they worked at their weaving as hard as ever.
The Emperor presently sent another trustworthy official to see how the
work progressed and how soon it would be ready. The same thing happened to
him that had happened to the minister. He looked and he looked, but as there
was nothing to see in the looms he couldn't see anything.
"Isn't it a beautiful piece of goods?" the swindlers asked
him, as they displayed and described their imaginary pattern.
"I know I'm not stupid," the man thought, "so it must
be that I'm unworthy of my good office. That's strange. I mustn't let anyone
find it out, though." So he praised the material he did not see. He
declared he was delighted with the beautiful colors and the exquisite
pattern. To the Emperor he said, "It held me spellbound."
The entire town was talking of this splendid cloth, and the Emperor
wanted to see it for himself while it was still in the looms. Attended by a
band of chosen men, among whom were his two old trusted officials-the ones
who had been to the weavers-he set out to see the two swindlers. He found
them weaving with might and main, but without a thread in their looms.
"Magnificent," said the two officials already duped.
"Just look, Your Majesty, what colors! What a design!" They pointed
to the empty looms, each supposing that the others could see the stuff.
"What's this?" thought the Emperor. "I can't see anything.
This is terrible!
Am I a fool? Am I unfit to be the Emperor? What a thing to happen to
me of all people! - Oh! It's very pretty," he said. "It has
my highest approval." And he nodded approbation at the empty loom.
Nothing could make him say that he couldn't see anything.
His whole retinue stared and stared. One saw no more than another, but
they all joined the Emperor in exclaiming, "Oh! It's very
pretty," and they advised him to wear clothes made of this wonderful
cloth especially for the great procession he was soon to lead.
"Magnificent! Excellent! Unsurpassed!" were bandied from mouth to
mouth, and everyone did his best to seem well pleased. The Emperor gave each
of the swindlers a cross to wear in his buttonhole, and the title of "Sir
Weaver."
Before the procession the swindlers sat up all night and burned more
than six candles, to show how busy they were finishing the Emperor's new
clothes. They pretended to take the cloth off the loom. They made cuts in the
air with huge scissors. And at last they said, "Now the Emperor's new
clothes are ready for him."
Then the Emperor himself came with his noblest noblemen, and the
swindlers each raised an arm as if they were holding something. They said,
"These are the trousers, here's the coat, and this is the mantle,"
naming each garment. "All of them are as light as a spider web. One
would almost think he had nothing on, but that's what makes them so
fine."
"Exactly," all the noblemen agreed, though they could see
nothing, for there was nothing to see.
"If Your Imperial Majesty will condescend to take your clothes
off," said the swindlers, "we will help you on with your new ones
here in front of the long mirror."
The Emperor undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put his new
clothes on him, one garment after another. They took him around the waist and
seemed to be fastening something - that was his train-as the Emperor turned
round and round before the looking glass.
"How well Your Majesty's new clothes look. Aren't they
becoming!" He heard on all sides, "That pattern, so perfect! Those
colors, so suitable! It is a magnificent outfit."
Then the minister of public processions announced: "Your
Majesty's canopy is waiting outside."
"Well, I'm supposed to be ready," the Emperor said, and
turned again for one last look in the mirror. "It is a remarkable fit,
isn't it?" He seemed to regard his costume with the greatest interest.
The noblemen who were to carry his train stooped low and reached for
the floor as if they were picking up his mantle. Then they pretended to lift
and hold it high. They didn't dare admit they had nothing to hold.
So off went the Emperor in procession under his splendid canopy.
Everyone in the streets and the windows said, "Oh, how fine are the
Emperor's new clothes! Don't they fit him to perfection? And see his long
train!" Nobody would confess that he couldn't see anything, for that
would prove him either unfit for his position, or a fool. No costume the
Emperor had worn before was ever such a complete success.
"But he hasn't got anything on," a little child said.
"Did you ever hear such innocent prattle?" said its father.
And one person whispered to another what the child had said, "He hasn't
anything on. A child says he hasn't anything on."
"But he hasn't got anything on!" the whole town cried out at
last.
The Emperor shivered, for he suspected they were right. But he
thought, "This procession has got to go on." So he walked more
proudly than ever, as his noblemen held high the train that wasn't there at
all.
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This story has fascinated me ever since
I read it in my Grade 2/3 textbook. My friends got annoyed by my obsession of
the story. So much so that at my next birthday they gave me the anthology of
short stories by Hans Christian Anderson. The Ugly Duckling is in it too...
I remember I used the phrase: ”But the
emperor is naked” many times in my previous writings when I was younger...I got
into trouble because of that...But it is so true and exposes the bureaucratic nightmare
that we all go through in life – be it government bureaucracy, religious hierarchy,
university and high school administration or any other organized gang. Once we
are entangled in the bureaucratic web...it’s very difficult to liberate
ourselves from the jumble and clutter and the folly, especially if the bureaucrat/governor/administrator
is a full of himself (why not herself) jerk.
Look around and check.
I am sure you will find examples of this
near you -something that happened to you a relative, a friend.
Bureaucracy is most of the time composed
of mediocre people and once you get tangled in the web...it devours you.
Always have a healthy suspicion of bureaucrats.
I personally do not have much respect
for them and I am happy that I am away from that web. I am retired and it is a
blessing not in disguise, it is a blessing indeed.
The emperors are always naked...and we
are at their mercy....Always approach them with caution, avoid them if you can.
***
For the past six years I am living a
tangled affair that is fascinating.
I work for the Ministry of Education in
another capacity-other that teaching in the classroom. When the Provincial
government introduced the Harmonized Sales Tax (HST) we as individual employees
were supposed to collect the HST from our department and pay to the government...But
the department supervisor and
bureaucrats assured us that we are not affected by it and we should not worry...So
we ignored it....
Two years passed and at one meeting the administration
introduced new procedure-because they had found out that we come under the HST
legislation too.
So they paid us the accumulated HST, and
in turn we paid it to the appropriate agency.
Now it turns out that we are paid the
HST and we turn that over to the tax collectors cent for cent. The pay goes
back to the government finances and the government reimburses the amount to our
department.
It is a waste loop...So many people are
involved, so many bureaucrats are participating in paying-collecting– and
eventually retuning-it back loop.
This has caused me lots of
anxiety...Because before the loop was oiled properly, the tax collectors were threatening
us...
I have a dislike of bureaucrats and hierarchies.
It is said, “Power corrupts and absolute
power corrupts absolutely”.
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