A Great Invention

2023 Words

High on a hill overlooking the Red Sea stood a small lonely dwelling. On a clear day (and most of them were) if one looked directly to the east, the ancient cities of Jeddah and Mecca could be spotted across the shimmering waters: bustling centres of culture and learning. In the year of this story, roughly 2500 years before the birth of Christ, these metropolises were the New Yorks and Tokyo’s of their day. To the west and down the hill into the valley below lay a modest town populated largely by sheep and goat farmers and a handful of small traders who looked still further west and north towards the Nile delta for the bulk of their business. There was no port here and what little wealth there was for the town did not come from the sea.

The sole inhabitant of the lonely dwelling had no time, or indeed inclination, to look east and speculate idly about what wonders may be taking place across the sea. Neither did he have much time for the farmers and traders who were his immediate neighbours and kinsmen. Despite being born and raised in the town below, his self imposed semi exile into the hills had happened many years before whilst still a relatively young man. Now in his 60th year, the peace and solitude suited him well. The name of this man was Pyrrhus and he was a philosopher, keen botanist and enthusiastic inventor. He also kept a small herd of goats and planted crops, after all a man has to eat.

From an early age Pyrrhus knew that he was different from others, he had an insatiably inquisitive mind and learned quickly. He was clever with a natural ability and thirst to accumulate knowledge. The people of the town, being good but fundamentally simple folk, also sensed that Pyrrhus was not like them. Being naturally dull, they were immediately suspicious, even frightened, of anything that did not assimilate to their rather one dimensional view of the world. If a subject did not involve sheep, goats, crops, eating, sleeping or making more towns people, there was a general feeling that it was best left alone and ignored. Pyrrhus asked questions, difficult, scary questions, questions that had not even occurred to them to ask prior to his arrival. Even his parents fretted over their son’s decidedly unusual inclination towards non goat related matters and urged him to settle down and stop asking questions. Being a good and dutiful son, Pyrrhus did his best to comply, however his brain had other ideas and the questions just kept coming. In addition to his gifted mind, a cruel twist of fate had decreed that Pyrrhus should be born with a pronounced stutter. For him the simple act of communication was a tortuous venture, sometimes resulting in incomprehension and often ridicule by his contempories. The frustration of not having the ability to articulate his thoughts and ideas steadily turned the young man into a resentful and solitary figure. Growing up he naturally became more isolated from those around him. When not tending the family herd he took to wandering the surrounding hills and found a thrill in studying the local flora and fauna. When in his 19th year his parents took ill and died within a month of one another, Pyrrhus was left alone.  He moved permanently into the hills he loved and there he built a simple dwelling, tended his herd, raised crops and lived peacefully enough.

Fortunately his speech defect did nothing to arrest the development of his brilliant mind. He became a sage and philosopher. A couple of the more enlightened towns folk would consult with him on important matters and although they struggled with his impediment, they knew that he could be relied upon to give wise council. However for the vast majority of the town, the stuttering hermit on the hill remained a strange and remote figure. As for himself, whilst he did not stand on the hill, Grinch-like, staring down and hating the people below, he gradually developed a strong desire to prove himself worthy of their recognition and respect. The years of seclusion made him want to be remembered as someone who made a significant contribution towards society. Having no wife or child he wanted his name to live on through his thoughts, ideas and inventions.

In the era that Pyrrhus lived great things were happening in the world of mathematics, astronomy and especially in the development of language. The spoken and written words and symbols used by civilisations were in their infancy. News of momentous discoveries would come to the people of Pyrrhus’s town via the merchants who travelled north following the mighty Nile into the heart of Egypt, a veritable crucible of science and learning.
Such news also reached Pyrrhus in his hilltop abode. He was acutely aware of the fact that one of the great drawbacks in the development of the written word was the lack of a suitable material on which to write. What was needed was a material that was light, portable and durable. The use of charcoal and other such substances as writing tools were well established, the main question was what to write on and it was to this question that Pyrrhus decided to devote his time and mind.

It was natural, given his inability to communicate effectively using speech, that Pyrrhus would choose the written word as his life’s work and in this regard he was greatly assisted by two things. His love of botany, which had led him to explore, study and catalogue all of the plants and animals that inhabited the hills and valleys surrounding his home, and the discovery of one plant in particular which grew in abundance near to the edges of small rivers and lakes. A tall, reed-like growth, it had wide, fibrous leaves that were very strong yet flexible. Pyrrhus instinctively felt that such a plant might hold the key to solving the problem. Painstaking years followed in trying to perfect a method for turning the tough leaves into a homogeneous material, capable of holding the sacred writings of the world’s greatest scholars. Technique after technique and method after method was tried, found wanting and discarded as he strove to perfect a process. He worked alone, driven on by the thought of leaving a lasting legacy, forever remembered and revered. At last, after many fruitless years, Pyrrhus’s perseverance, determination and hard work finally paid off. He found a way to breakdown the leaves, form them into a stable pulp like substance and then reconstitute the resulting pulp into thin, relatively smooth, flexible sheets of material, whose toughness allowed them to be easily rolled, folded and transported. Marks made by charcoal and other writing instruments were clearly visible and could be made permanent. Pyrrhus worked furiously to develop his invention to a point where he felt ready to share it with the rest of humanity.


It so happened that each year in the capital city of Pyrrhus’s country there was held a festival of creativity and invention. Great minds from all across the lands would gather to show off their latest brainwaves. The festival lasted for a week and prizes were awarded for advancement in a number of different categories. Of course Pyrrhus decided that this was the perfect showcase for his writing material and he would also be able to demonstrate the production technique he had so long fought to develop. A week before the festival was due to begin Pyrrhus gathered his things together and set out on the long road to the capital city. The journey was long and arduous, his donkey was particularly awkward and had to be pushed, cajoled and generally forced along every weary mile they travelled. The only thing that kept Pyrrhus going on that lonely, dusty road was the thought of the eventual rewards that were to be his at the other end. At last to show the world what he had achieved, to be recognised as making a significant contribution to the advancement of mankind and to have his name forever immortalised with this wonderful invention. He positively glowed inside at the mental picture. He even fantasied a statue erected in his hometown in honour of the boy who was often thought of as dumb and slow, just because of an unfortunate birth defect. Now he would show them. At these thoughts he would give his donkey another kick and urge him ever onwards.
At last on the fifth day of their journey they sighted the capital city just over the next hill. At dawn the next day, tired, footsore and longing for a comfortable bed, Pyrrhus and the donkey entered the city and made for the closest and cheapest hotel.
All entries for the Scientific Achievement Category were to be made the next day at the town hall in front of a panel of distinguished learned gentlemen. At the appointed time, late in the afternoon, Pyrrhus presented himself in the great hall. Before him were the panel of five judges, all looking suitably stern and wise, as befitted men of such great knowledge and sage council.
Pyrrhus made his way, nervously at first, towards the panel ready to present his new discovery. His trepidation however immediately left him as he started to speak.

“I h-h-have m-m-made a n-n-new m-m-material for wr-wr-wr-writing, it c-c-c-omes from th-these p-p-plants” he explained, scarcely able to conceal his delight.

The judges unrolled the scrolls and looked in wonder. They held them up to the light, made marks, folded and refolded them. Nothing like this had ever been seen before and they congratulated him on inventing what was clearly a very important new material. It was the end of the Scientific judging day and nothing they had seen so far had come even close to matching Pyrrhus’s entry.

“What do you to call this wonderful material?” asked the senior panel member, an imposing figure with a remarkable and impressive beard.

“P-Pyrrhus, of c-c-course” answered Pyrrhus, hoping not to sound too immodest.

“Ah Papyrus” said another judge, nodding wisely “That sounds like a very good name”

“N-n-no” replied Pyrrhus slightly alarmed. “P-Pyrrhus, after m-m-me”

“Yes, that’s what I said, Papyrus, and an excellent name it is” answered the judge.
“Indeed” said another judge, “ This is clearly a very important invention, Papyrus will become known throughout the world and you make it from these plants, fascinating. They will also be named Papyrus in recognition of their contribution to this great invention” he declared grandly.

“N-n-n-no, p-p-p-p-lease l-l-l-l-l-listen it’s not p-p-p-p-p-papyrus….it’s P-p-p-pyrrhus.” he wailed, desperately tried to make himself understood.

“There, there my dear fellow” said the senior judge “No need to upset yourself, we understand your problem, you clearly have a serious speech defect, but that does not take away from you and your wonderful discovery.  Have no fear, we will speak for you.  Your great invention will make you and this country famous."

Pyrrhus looked on with despair as the men talked on enthusiastically about how they would spread the news. Pyrrhus knew in his heart that he could not deny the world a way to make progress, but he clearly saw his dream of immortality and recognition disappearing before his eyes. He knew for certain that he would be forgotten and the true origins of his great discovery would be lost in the annals of history. As the men continued planning he quietly left the town hall  and made his way back to the hotel. There he gathered his belongings and went to load up his recalcitrant animal for the long trek home. As he trudged along he ruminated on the cruel twists that life can play on one, giving you a brilliant mind but not the ability to communicate its output. Just then a thought struck him, he really ought to have written down the name rather than trying to say it. He smiled to himself as gave his beast of burden a friendly whack on the back to make it keep up. Whatever the name, it was still a great invention.

The End