The Origins Of Poetry

The Creation of Poetry – an excerpt from Valmiki’s adhikavya was a pleasure to read now that I know exactly what I’m reading, this being my fourth or fifth reading of the same chapter in the last eighteen months! It’s interesting the details there to be picked up when I am not focused on learning the story itself. This seems to be the exact way in which the Ramayana summary within this chapter works – if one isn’t focused on plot details because they’ve already been revealed, then one is left free to appreciate the finer details of this epic poetry. In The Creation of Poetry, the birth of shloka (poetry) from sloka (grief) is depicted. As this myth tells, the grief that Valmiki feels from seeing a pair of krauncha birds ripped apart mid-coitus by a hunter is what propels him to utter a curse upon Narada, the hunter. His utterance however, was “fixed in metrical quarters, each with a like number of syllables, and fit for the accompaniment of stringed and percussion instruments” (Valmiki, 2.15) – poetry from pain, if you will.

It is this grief, this emotion, that the Dhvanyaloka believes give life to poetry much like the soul gives life to the body. This is Rasa – no more than a sharpening of Valmiki’s emotion of grief (Dhvanyaloka, 1.5K). I took this to mean that what Valmiki created, is a reflection – but not a carbon copy – of what he is feeling. On page 114 of the Dhvanyaloka, a very interesting sentence caught my eye: “Grief is the basic emotion of the flavour of compassion” (Dhvanyaloka, 1.5A)…What could Anandavardhana mean by this? Again, I related this back to the dichotomous relation between what one feels and what one does – if one is unable to feel grief, even in empathy, then one is unable to create an environment in which this grief is alleviated (compassion). In Valmiki’s case, this empathy for the birds moved him so much that on their behalf, he cursed the hunter. By Brahma’s blessing, this curse was uttered as poetry, and thus the art was born. Before I risk being long winded, I wanted to touch upon the topic of Vrtti as well – that is to say, the poetry reflects the Rasa – and hence, one is required to create the other. This allows for poetry itself not to become commonplace, but rather have special place in literature, much like the soul has a special status in life (Dhvanyaloka, 1.5L).

The Narayanan article discusses in depth the alvar poetic tradition of the Srivaisnava community. Rama-devotion manifests itself in this tradition, in two ways: through allusions to Rama in poetry, as well as through participation in the recreation of the Rama story. Many of these “recreations” veer away from the Sanskrit version of the adhikavya, while still maintaining an affinity for the chapter in which Rama destroys Ravana and saves Sita. Narayanan points to an interesting verse in the Kulacekara alvar that speaks of The Creation of Poetry chapter in Valmiki’s Ramayana – the Srivaisnavas consider this to be a miniature Ramayana within itself (Narayanan, 5). In this alvar, Valmiki (arguably) sings the verses to the lord enshrined in the city of Tillai Citrakutam - believed to be Rama himself. Rama, for all intents and purposes, is seen by this tradition as Vishnu himself – what purpose is there for his particular manifestation in this poem, one wonders. Narayanan says that “the incarnation of Rama stands midpoint between the lord’s remoteness in his other incarnations and his rather remarkable camaraderie as Krishna” (Narayanan, 10). Furthermore, Narayanan believes that the alvars reinforce the Srivaisnava belief that incarnation of Rama was merely an exercise in the lord’s accessibility and compassion.

There’s that word again. Compassion. Where there’s compassion, there once was grief. Poetry can’t be far behind!

***What is the significance of the gender reversals of the krauncha birds in the Dhvanyaloka???