Parallel & Proverbs
A weekly literary miscellany

Vigilance is the active cousin of caution. Caution warns. Vigilance asks something more: stay alert, even when alertness is uncomfortable.

The Mexican Spanish camarón que se duerme se lo lleva la corriente — “the shrimp that sleeps gets carried away by the current” — is a perfect compact image. It doesn’t tell you the current is dangerous. It tells you that being asleep in the current is the danger. A precise distinction.

Several of the archive’s vigilance proverbs are about timing: when the danger chooses to come. The Mongolian herder’s chono boroonoor, “the wolf, by means of the rain,” knows the wolf picks the storm to strike. Bulgarian catches it a beat too late — za vǎlka govorim, a toy v kosharata, we are talking about the wolf and he is already in the fold. The Bedouin parable of the camel and the tent describes the slowest arrival of all: let the camel put its nose in, and the whole of it has entered. Irish sets the watch for the length of a day: mol an lá um thráthnóna, praise the day at evening, and not before.

Russian turns the watchfulness on whatever is calmest: v tikhom omute cherti vodyatsya, devils dwell in the quiet whirlpool. The Bengali bhoy pele bhoot dekhe is the theme’s corrective: when frightened, one sees a ghost. Vigilance pushed far enough starts producing what it watches for. In Bengal the ghost has a usual address, the tamarind tree at the edge of the paddy field, and the old advice is not to stand under one alone after dark.

Proverbs about vigilance, at a glance

Where this theme shows up