I found this book entertaining to read and at times enlightening. Yet it was also full of contradictions and paradoxes that made me question again and again where the author was coming from and what exactly his intentions were.
Many of the analogies – both his own and quoted from other sources- were wonderfully hilarious. Continuing on with the theme of flavour and food, is the repeated can-opener metaphor. “The rasa-dhvani doctrine bring poetry perilously close to a kind of tomato soup that everybody is conditioned to enjoy.” (50) Smith’s critique of the rasa-dhvani school, and his obviously frustration with its “attempts to leave us with a universal, impersonal experience passing between people who try to be as like each other as possible.” (50) receives some sympathy from me. I wonder how much of the stuff he has had to read – I am sure a lot more than us, which - although it was fascinating for a while – allows me to feel his pain.
The second analogy that really stood out for me will also bring me to my main theme for these week’s blog. “The Vedas belonged to the end of an earlier epoch, and were increasingly venerated the less they were understood, like a dwarf star ceasing to emit light whilst its gravity rapidly increases.” (14)
In our modern tradition of scholarship and academia I often find the veneration of “convolutedness” to be our own form of religion. The harder it is to understand something the more that can be made out of it. Interpretations run wild – you can make some theorists say anything to suit your own agenda. The scholars who really have a cross-discipline drive are generally the hardest to understand (think Derrida, Foucault, Kant etc.).
In regards to the Vedas, the further the Indian people moved away from that time – and the further their language changed - the more gobblygook the passages became. Thus the more mysterious, awesome, and (mis)interpretable they became. The light bulb had been turned off, no longer did they truly hold the way - nor did they make full sense -but their gravitational pull increased. The Vedas were always meant to be secretive – therefore the very fact that they have lost the majority of their understandability (were they ever meant to be understandable?) is perhaps a perfect continuation of the esoteric tradition! The tradition has also continued in other ways, I would argue.
The problem of accessibility and the esoteric nature of the rasa-dhvani tradition has arisen almost every week. Many of the scholars we have looked at have made comments about how only the learned men – the sahrdayas – are classy enough to understand what is going on with rasa – they are the only ones who have had the relevant education and time spent working on the skills in order to truly understand and appreciate the art form. They are the only ones worth writing FOR. As I mentioned above, I believe the esoteric nature is a continuation of the original Sanskrit tradition of limited accessibility. No longer is the Sanskrit language sacred, anybody can write a poem or play and anyone with a small amount of education can read or hear it – initiation based on birth and wealth are no longer the prerequisites. Yet do they understand it? By maintaining a level of secrecy some authors, I would argue, wished to maintain the tradition, and did not want to relinquish Sanskrit up to just anyone.
Again the week, this theme was touched on by Smith. He wrote “There are some striking resemblances between kavya and the Vedic hymns. If the Veda is, in Derrett’s words, an ‘unintelligible, fossilized entity’, so too is kavya! Kingdoms needed clever men to run them; since familiarity with an arcane literature was the cardinal sign of intellect, of aristocratic mind, the new men made themselves a new badge for their authority.” (96) Louis Renou is quoted as saying “one may again wonder if the authors did not systematically avoid whatever could facilitate the understanding of the text. Kavya is not made for those whom Grammar calls mandabuddhi [‘slow witted’], who need those crutches that are particles.” (quoted on 97) For further examples of what led to my discussion on accessibility/esoteric traditions see pgs 98-99 – I have not included a full discussion due to time and space constraints (read: mental constraints!!!!)
On a final note and adding another layer to this topic of secrecy – the need of the learned to preserve their knowledge and thus creating art that is not accessible to all – is the religious affiliation of the Sanskrit author in question – Ratnakara. He belonged to the secret esoteric Kaula path of the tantric Kashmiri Saiva tradition. His writings include details that should only be available to the initiated. Therefore he does not appear to be one who is too worried about secrecy. Yet Smith says Ratnakara’s poetry is full of “obscure references, until the precise and detailed Kaula imagery becomes vague and almost bland.” (265) Is it truly vague and bland? Has Smith opened a bad can of Tomato soup - or are his tastes not yet initiated into the knowledge being presented, possibly in a secretive manner itself?
In kavya there are word plays, puns, allusions, and an abundance of other literary conventions that would only be known to the initiated – someone who has read a great deal of the rasa-dhvani commentaries that Smith critiques in the beginnings of his book. Has the soup can really been opened for us all to enjoy? If so, I don’t think it is Campbell’s soup – maybe some extremely expensive gourmet soup only reserved for a select few. I get the feeling Smith wants in on this soup – and he does not like that others are taking a sip out of his rations.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Poetics: Help or Hindrance to Poetry?
Smith’s work (“An Introduction to the Sanskrit Court Epic”) is based on Ratnakara’s 9th century Kashmiri Saivite mahakavya (or perhaps MAHAmahakavya at 4351 verses divided into 50 cants) “Haravijaya”, which, I was interested to learn means ‘Siva’s Victory’. Contrary to the scorn of Richard Schmidt and A.B. Keith for the work as a whole, Smith aligns himself more with the traditional Indian view, holding great esteem for the work. The central thrust of his argument seems to be somehow related to the notion that the mahakavyas are unique, worthy of being treated individually, independent of poetic theory. Smith writes (on chapter two I believe) that one of his major aims it to demonstrate that mahakavya “has its own inner logic as an art form, but this was not perceived by the poeticians, who, were above all concerned with their pet theories” (40). I am not able to track the logic of his arguement with only the excerpts presented here, but there is MUCH in these 150 some odd pages to discuss. Given space constraints, let me highlight a three areas which stood out.
My first topic of interest is why, as Smith asserts, Sanskrit poetics serves “not a help but a hindrance” for studying Sanskrit poetry? If I understand his general argument correctly, then this claim would be central to his work. Yet I am not sure I agree with it. Smith claims that scholars such as Ingalls and Warder have unduly emphasized Sanskrit poeticians, which, ironically, hinders the study of Sanskrit poetry. It seems to me that Ananadavardhana and the like we engaged, primarily, in descriptive rather than prescriptive projects. They aimed to analyze the features of art, but the prerequisites thereof. If a poem has vyanjana, it is not good, but not merely because it lacks vyanjana. All poems which are good incorporate vjanjana, so vjanjana is a symptom of the work’s aesthetics merit, not a cause thereto. With this in mind, poets don’t need to confirm to poetics in order to create poetry. Otherwise Brahma would have revealed rasa theory to VŒlm´ki, instead of allowing him to become inspired. After all, it is the poets who created and employed alamkaras, while the poeticians merely analysed and catalogued them. The same may be said of emotional response: they arise from the art, not the art theory. Indeed “the poet alone is creator in the boundless realm of poetry”, but as Smith would like to argue, the poetician becomes the legislator in this world. But why do we need to live by the laws of poetics?
Clearly poetic ornamentation does not equate poetic artistry. For example, verses such as Yogeshwara’s (50) may indeed come across as “frigid” (Ingall’s description, 51) because of their mechanical quality. This contrived, organized, logical approach may well fit into alamkara principles, but those principles are, in my opinion, more observations of the features of good poetry. Good poetry is well endowed with alamkaras, but an abundance of alamkaras does not necessitate the presence of good poetry. However, the grander issue is that ‘good poetry’ is a matter of taste. Smith happens to highly appreciate Yogeshwara’s verse. But whether or not the poem is ‘good’, it is evident that Ingall’s preocuption with analysis and technique prevents his enjoyment of the poem. He approaches it in the mode of the poetician, not that of the poet, nor that of the sensitive listener. But this is not a necessity. Smith, for example, is able to appreciate the work in its own right. Similarly, he is able to appreciate the object of this study - RatnŒkara’s “Haravijaya” - despite unfavorable western reception it has known to this point. Poetics does not necessarily need to be a hindrance to poetry. One need merely be conscious of the mode in which one aims to receive the art – as the informed critic, or as an audience. Surely audiences may be critical, but most students don’t watch movies with notepads in hand and theories in mind. We can talk about this in class.
My second point of interest, somewhat tangential, relates to notions of authorship within this tradition. Jacobi argues that much of RatnŒkara’s work is borrowed from previous authors. We have learned in looking at the discourse of poetics that Indian authors make concerted efforts to refer to, build upon, and acknowledge their predecessors. The intellectual climate appears to be on where lineage, tradition, and predecessors are greatly esteemed. Anandavardhana, for example, presents his work on aesthetics not so much as a break from the existing intellectual tradition, but as an embellishment thereof. So, I wonder to what extent poetic composition would deviate from this. Given the haziness of authorship that generally pervades the tradition (it seems next to impossible to ascertain who writes what when), I fail to see why RatnŒkara would have any anxiety about being deemed a plagiarist. The whole concept of plagiarism appears to be somewhat of an imposition. For example, as Wendy Doninger (who, by the way, happens to be my academic great grandmother!) writes in her introductory essay to her own translation of “The laws of Manu” (Penguin, 1991) “it has been estimated that between a third and a half of Manu is in the “Mahabharata”, though it is not certain which was the source and which was the borrower” (xvii). So, who is the plagiarist, Vyasa, or Manu, or both? Jacobi may very well offically qualify as a vacuum-dwelling, "originality-monger" (and no, I refuse to offer a citation for the term originality monger – who cares if it’s my idea or not??). Along these lines, Smith himself tells us (Ch 2) that the three oldest Sanskrit poeticians construct their own examples of poetry, and when they do quote versus, they neglect to attribute these versus to any particular author since “the author and his book are of too little moment to merit mention”. For some reason, this isn’t the impression I got. I was sure that much of the poetry in Abhivanagupta’s treatise was long-established, accepted, “free-floating” verse whose authorship was unknown, not undermined.
Thirdly, regarding the extensive analysis in Chapter 8, “The Gods and Goddessess”, admittedly most of it went over my head with respect to the overarching theme. I am hoping we could clarify it in class. Smith seems to be arguing that, as he states in the very onset of the chapter, “kavya often adopts a neutral attitude towards the gods” (225). But I am unclear as to what his neutrality refers to. What, exactly, would positions ‘a’ and ‘b’ be with respect to this purported neutrality towards the gods? Does he refer to whether kavya regards them as benefic versus malefic? Does he refer to the god’s fallibility versus infallibility? The first example he gives (from Kalidasa) seems to focus on the gruesomeness of Siva (splattered sculls and whatnot on p 226), but the second one emphasizes Siva’s ‘imagining’ versus his ‘perceiving. He then goes on to give poetic example emphasizing Siva’s propensity for lovemaking and his ambiguous lineage. I am not sure how these relate to his the argument in thus chapter, nor to any larger argument the book purports to uphold. Smith later describes Ratnakara’s neutrality when he reduces Siva to “colour alone” (231). He makes several references to poetic passages descriving Shiva’s poisionous neck, third eye, his affinity for dance, his role as destroyer, his acetic prowess, etc. – but even by chapter’s end, I really don’t understand Smiths’ particular employment of the term “neutrality”. Someone, please define this term for me!
My first topic of interest is why, as Smith asserts, Sanskrit poetics serves “not a help but a hindrance” for studying Sanskrit poetry? If I understand his general argument correctly, then this claim would be central to his work. Yet I am not sure I agree with it. Smith claims that scholars such as Ingalls and Warder have unduly emphasized Sanskrit poeticians, which, ironically, hinders the study of Sanskrit poetry. It seems to me that Ananadavardhana and the like we engaged, primarily, in descriptive rather than prescriptive projects. They aimed to analyze the features of art, but the prerequisites thereof. If a poem has vyanjana, it is not good, but not merely because it lacks vyanjana. All poems which are good incorporate vjanjana, so vjanjana is a symptom of the work’s aesthetics merit, not a cause thereto. With this in mind, poets don’t need to confirm to poetics in order to create poetry. Otherwise Brahma would have revealed rasa theory to VŒlm´ki, instead of allowing him to become inspired. After all, it is the poets who created and employed alamkaras, while the poeticians merely analysed and catalogued them. The same may be said of emotional response: they arise from the art, not the art theory. Indeed “the poet alone is creator in the boundless realm of poetry”, but as Smith would like to argue, the poetician becomes the legislator in this world. But why do we need to live by the laws of poetics?
Clearly poetic ornamentation does not equate poetic artistry. For example, verses such as Yogeshwara’s (50) may indeed come across as “frigid” (Ingall’s description, 51) because of their mechanical quality. This contrived, organized, logical approach may well fit into alamkara principles, but those principles are, in my opinion, more observations of the features of good poetry. Good poetry is well endowed with alamkaras, but an abundance of alamkaras does not necessitate the presence of good poetry. However, the grander issue is that ‘good poetry’ is a matter of taste. Smith happens to highly appreciate Yogeshwara’s verse. But whether or not the poem is ‘good’, it is evident that Ingall’s preocuption with analysis and technique prevents his enjoyment of the poem. He approaches it in the mode of the poetician, not that of the poet, nor that of the sensitive listener. But this is not a necessity. Smith, for example, is able to appreciate the work in its own right. Similarly, he is able to appreciate the object of this study - RatnŒkara’s “Haravijaya” - despite unfavorable western reception it has known to this point. Poetics does not necessarily need to be a hindrance to poetry. One need merely be conscious of the mode in which one aims to receive the art – as the informed critic, or as an audience. Surely audiences may be critical, but most students don’t watch movies with notepads in hand and theories in mind. We can talk about this in class.
My second point of interest, somewhat tangential, relates to notions of authorship within this tradition. Jacobi argues that much of RatnŒkara’s work is borrowed from previous authors. We have learned in looking at the discourse of poetics that Indian authors make concerted efforts to refer to, build upon, and acknowledge their predecessors. The intellectual climate appears to be on where lineage, tradition, and predecessors are greatly esteemed. Anandavardhana, for example, presents his work on aesthetics not so much as a break from the existing intellectual tradition, but as an embellishment thereof. So, I wonder to what extent poetic composition would deviate from this. Given the haziness of authorship that generally pervades the tradition (it seems next to impossible to ascertain who writes what when), I fail to see why RatnŒkara would have any anxiety about being deemed a plagiarist. The whole concept of plagiarism appears to be somewhat of an imposition. For example, as Wendy Doninger (who, by the way, happens to be my academic great grandmother!) writes in her introductory essay to her own translation of “The laws of Manu” (Penguin, 1991) “it has been estimated that between a third and a half of Manu is in the “Mahabharata”, though it is not certain which was the source and which was the borrower” (xvii). So, who is the plagiarist, Vyasa, or Manu, or both? Jacobi may very well offically qualify as a vacuum-dwelling, "originality-monger" (and no, I refuse to offer a citation for the term originality monger – who cares if it’s my idea or not??). Along these lines, Smith himself tells us (Ch 2) that the three oldest Sanskrit poeticians construct their own examples of poetry, and when they do quote versus, they neglect to attribute these versus to any particular author since “the author and his book are of too little moment to merit mention”. For some reason, this isn’t the impression I got. I was sure that much of the poetry in Abhivanagupta’s treatise was long-established, accepted, “free-floating” verse whose authorship was unknown, not undermined.
Thirdly, regarding the extensive analysis in Chapter 8, “The Gods and Goddessess”, admittedly most of it went over my head with respect to the overarching theme. I am hoping we could clarify it in class. Smith seems to be arguing that, as he states in the very onset of the chapter, “kavya often adopts a neutral attitude towards the gods” (225). But I am unclear as to what his neutrality refers to. What, exactly, would positions ‘a’ and ‘b’ be with respect to this purported neutrality towards the gods? Does he refer to whether kavya regards them as benefic versus malefic? Does he refer to the god’s fallibility versus infallibility? The first example he gives (from Kalidasa) seems to focus on the gruesomeness of Siva (splattered sculls and whatnot on p 226), but the second one emphasizes Siva’s ‘imagining’ versus his ‘perceiving. He then goes on to give poetic example emphasizing Siva’s propensity for lovemaking and his ambiguous lineage. I am not sure how these relate to his the argument in thus chapter, nor to any larger argument the book purports to uphold. Smith later describes Ratnakara’s neutrality when he reduces Siva to “colour alone” (231). He makes several references to poetic passages descriving Shiva’s poisionous neck, third eye, his affinity for dance, his role as destroyer, his acetic prowess, etc. – but even by chapter’s end, I really don’t understand Smiths’ particular employment of the term “neutrality”. Someone, please define this term for me!
Harmonizing the rivalry of Rasa vs. Alamkara
Rather than delving into the court epic itself, this is an aside introduced in the beginning of the discussion I couldn't resist taking the time to remark on.
In our course so far, in the discussion of the characteristics of poetry the two predominant features of rasa(aesthetic sentiment) and alamkara have been consistently discussed as rivalling features of poetry. Based on Anandavardhana’s ideas of rasa as presented in the Dhavayaloka, he established the paradigm from which Abhinavagupta expands in his commentaries of Anadavardhana’s work and many other authors followed.
What had Anandavardhana laid out as the foundation, basis and inner workings of poetry? There are the sthayibhavas (the eight primary emotions of an aesthetic work or nine if santa is added) upon which the primary purpose and point of the poem is built for the ultimate purpose of a successful poem/drama; the response of the audience in the experience of rasa, the raising of the primary emotion to its highest pitch. (p 40). In his treatise on the theory of suggestion (dhvani) in poetry the Dhvanyaloka, Anandavardhana argues that rasa is suggested to the audience, that the experience belongs to the viewer. Among his three forms of suggestion (suggestion of sense; of figures of speech and rasa) rasa reigns supreme, as the primary feature of excellence in the aesthetic work. The ownership of rasa is in the audience, primarily the refined and developed connoisseur of art the sahrdaya who has polished himself like a mirror, through training in sentiment and poetry to be a receptive vehicle of this supreme sentiment.
Anadavardhana also maintains that only one primary sentiment should be developed and maintained throughout the work “the main function of the poet lies only in making one sentiment principal throughout the poem and in employing both words and senses only in such a way that the former [the principal sentiment] is suggested clearly.” And ….”The works that are built upon sentiment should be regarded as superior.
He also states that this primary purpose of poetry rasa is destroyed by overindulgence in figures of speech (alamkara). Like Lollata he finds fault with the descriptive elements of mahakavya, calling this type of poetry “flashy poetry” (citrakavaya). He says this ornamentation is the death of rasa and an abomination to the sensitive reader.
To achieve the result of the emotional response the elements of the artistic work must maintain all the appropriate and conducive elements, even if the historical or mythical event has to be manipulated and edited in order to do so. He condones the changing of plot to maintain the strength of the primary rasa, as he states “A poet writing a whole work should be entirely bound by the demands made by sentiment……he should not hesitate to invent a new episode …appropriate to the sentiment.”
It is refreshing to have this highly formulaic framework analytically appraised and questioned. Smith puts this formula to a critical review stating that first of all emotions cannot be described empirically, that suggestion and sentiment are beyond the scope of words and perceptible only in the hearts of the sahrdayas. In reference to the contrivance of rasa he suggests that Indian theorists labelled and packaged the aesthetic experience to an extreme that requires a conditioning or contrivance of both poem and audience that threatens to produce a one dimensional universal experience rather than a diverse and multiplicity individual response. In response to Anandavardhana’s lament against poets who recognize no laws, who are obsessed with figures of speech and who wantonly persist in producing works without the least intention of incorporating rasa, he presents the opposite view. In support of the “ornamentalists” in their use of figures and ornate descriptions he posits that there is a freedom in that they found no need to conform and prune their reality to produce a result, rather they used metaphor to “dance freely in their poems and go wherever it liked”
Now the great cloud-cat,
Darting out his lightning tongue
Licks the creamy moon
From the saucepan of the sky (Subhasitaratnakasa 257)
In this poem he says the Sanskrit poet finds illicit indulgence everywhere, the whole universe is a universe of enjoyment, like a cat, the ornamentalist feels free to lick, to taste, wherever he chooses. In the conclusion of this discussion he also argues that in the mahakavyas there are long descriptive passages so in reality they combine ornamental idiom in the midst of developing the rasa and in fact incorporate both rasa and alamkara.
I found this discussion very interesting and satisfying as the elements of poetry are developed through the skilful use of tropes and to dismiss it as not conducive to the development of rasa appears cavalier. The view presented here finally seems to find a more balanced view of the structure of the poem in all its ornamental beauty as supportive and harmonious with the development of an aesthetic emotional response.
In our course so far, in the discussion of the characteristics of poetry the two predominant features of rasa(aesthetic sentiment) and alamkara have been consistently discussed as rivalling features of poetry. Based on Anandavardhana’s ideas of rasa as presented in the Dhavayaloka, he established the paradigm from which Abhinavagupta expands in his commentaries of Anadavardhana’s work and many other authors followed.
What had Anandavardhana laid out as the foundation, basis and inner workings of poetry? There are the sthayibhavas (the eight primary emotions of an aesthetic work or nine if santa is added) upon which the primary purpose and point of the poem is built for the ultimate purpose of a successful poem/drama; the response of the audience in the experience of rasa, the raising of the primary emotion to its highest pitch. (p 40). In his treatise on the theory of suggestion (dhvani) in poetry the Dhvanyaloka, Anandavardhana argues that rasa is suggested to the audience, that the experience belongs to the viewer. Among his three forms of suggestion (suggestion of sense; of figures of speech and rasa) rasa reigns supreme, as the primary feature of excellence in the aesthetic work. The ownership of rasa is in the audience, primarily the refined and developed connoisseur of art the sahrdaya who has polished himself like a mirror, through training in sentiment and poetry to be a receptive vehicle of this supreme sentiment.
Anadavardhana also maintains that only one primary sentiment should be developed and maintained throughout the work “the main function of the poet lies only in making one sentiment principal throughout the poem and in employing both words and senses only in such a way that the former [the principal sentiment] is suggested clearly.” And ….”The works that are built upon sentiment should be regarded as superior.
He also states that this primary purpose of poetry rasa is destroyed by overindulgence in figures of speech (alamkara). Like Lollata he finds fault with the descriptive elements of mahakavya, calling this type of poetry “flashy poetry” (citrakavaya). He says this ornamentation is the death of rasa and an abomination to the sensitive reader.
To achieve the result of the emotional response the elements of the artistic work must maintain all the appropriate and conducive elements, even if the historical or mythical event has to be manipulated and edited in order to do so. He condones the changing of plot to maintain the strength of the primary rasa, as he states “A poet writing a whole work should be entirely bound by the demands made by sentiment……he should not hesitate to invent a new episode …appropriate to the sentiment.”
It is refreshing to have this highly formulaic framework analytically appraised and questioned. Smith puts this formula to a critical review stating that first of all emotions cannot be described empirically, that suggestion and sentiment are beyond the scope of words and perceptible only in the hearts of the sahrdayas. In reference to the contrivance of rasa he suggests that Indian theorists labelled and packaged the aesthetic experience to an extreme that requires a conditioning or contrivance of both poem and audience that threatens to produce a one dimensional universal experience rather than a diverse and multiplicity individual response. In response to Anandavardhana’s lament against poets who recognize no laws, who are obsessed with figures of speech and who wantonly persist in producing works without the least intention of incorporating rasa, he presents the opposite view. In support of the “ornamentalists” in their use of figures and ornate descriptions he posits that there is a freedom in that they found no need to conform and prune their reality to produce a result, rather they used metaphor to “dance freely in their poems and go wherever it liked”
Now the great cloud-cat,
Darting out his lightning tongue
Licks the creamy moon
From the saucepan of the sky (Subhasitaratnakasa 257)
In this poem he says the Sanskrit poet finds illicit indulgence everywhere, the whole universe is a universe of enjoyment, like a cat, the ornamentalist feels free to lick, to taste, wherever he chooses. In the conclusion of this discussion he also argues that in the mahakavyas there are long descriptive passages so in reality they combine ornamental idiom in the midst of developing the rasa and in fact incorporate both rasa and alamkara.
I found this discussion very interesting and satisfying as the elements of poetry are developed through the skilful use of tropes and to dismiss it as not conducive to the development of rasa appears cavalier. The view presented here finally seems to find a more balanced view of the structure of the poem in all its ornamental beauty as supportive and harmonious with the development of an aesthetic emotional response.
Monday, March 10, 2008
A Closer Look at Mahakavya
In the readings this week we saw that smith extensively outlines the form of mahakavya and the critiques that it met with at the time. Much attention was paid to Ratnakara’s Haravijaya. Right at the outset, Smith acknowledges that his intention is solely to find out what certain poets had in their mind and not divulge into details of whether a latter poet plagiarized a former poet. However he does acknowledge that such occurrences of similarities were very common, but are to be adapted to the author’s intended system of meanings . He clearly outlines the intentions of his work by stating early on that he mentions very little about meter and style as well as many details within the poem itself such as the battles. He himself acknowledges what his work lacks which is very important. Does outlining what his work lacks actually undermine his work? or on the contrary does outlining what he misses, actually show his superiority of knowledge over the mahakavya, which he chooses not to discuss because it belongs to a whole other discussion?
The answer is found at the ending of the Introduction when he states, “…there is none more sage and fruitful than that which endeavors to find out what somebody had in his mind consciously or non-consciously when he wrote something” (13). To me his choice to keep things simple by relating to this mahakavya through ones own understanding and experience (contingent on what the author is getting at), is why he does not mention the technicality of devices. This makes mahakavya more accessible to a broader audience, as he takes the audiences experience or understanding as genuine.
I guess this is why in his second chapter he also chooses to focus on rasa and dhvani theory in its simplistic form. In this chapter, he outlines that the haravijaya is parallel to the newer form of rasa theory in which one rasa is relished in a mahakavya through ornamentals (descriptive scenery of mountains, rivers etc…) (lollata school) as opposed to the older interpretation that there are multiple bhavas in which true rasa is the result of many (Ananda school). He then goes on to argue that the poets felt they knew rasa but because of their “ornamental idiom” they were constantly creating their own wholes through the use of their own experience. Through stating this the author in a way downplays mahakavya. He openly criticizes those who took the view of the newer schoolfor not quite understanding the sound use of rasa. In the same breath moments earlier he equates Ratnakara with this school in the form of a question (he asks if Ratnakara sought to win the approval of the new school). Thus what one sees is a never ending debate on the true nature of rasa, or more particularly the true nature of mahakavya, since the main goal of any good poem is one that elicits rasa.
The very last thing I found very interesting in smith’s article is how the harda (the working members in society) produced some sort of poetry to praise the king, since their very survival was dependent upon him. Smith argues that these hardas were not from the priestly section of society that poets usually came from, but in fact from lower section of society. This not only preludes to the fact that poetry can be enjoyed by all members of society but that this enjoyment or experience originally came from the average. In fact, most mahakavyas that emphasize this idea of the union of Siva and Parvati, and how one should concentrate on worshipping this union forms the basis of the bhakti movement, which essentially makes the idea of moksa possible to all regardless of caste, sex or class. This connects mahakavya to wider audience.
The answer is found at the ending of the Introduction when he states, “…there is none more sage and fruitful than that which endeavors to find out what somebody had in his mind consciously or non-consciously when he wrote something” (13). To me his choice to keep things simple by relating to this mahakavya through ones own understanding and experience (contingent on what the author is getting at), is why he does not mention the technicality of devices. This makes mahakavya more accessible to a broader audience, as he takes the audiences experience or understanding as genuine.
I guess this is why in his second chapter he also chooses to focus on rasa and dhvani theory in its simplistic form. In this chapter, he outlines that the haravijaya is parallel to the newer form of rasa theory in which one rasa is relished in a mahakavya through ornamentals (descriptive scenery of mountains, rivers etc…) (lollata school) as opposed to the older interpretation that there are multiple bhavas in which true rasa is the result of many (Ananda school). He then goes on to argue that the poets felt they knew rasa but because of their “ornamental idiom” they were constantly creating their own wholes through the use of their own experience. Through stating this the author in a way downplays mahakavya. He openly criticizes those who took the view of the newer schoolfor not quite understanding the sound use of rasa. In the same breath moments earlier he equates Ratnakara with this school in the form of a question (he asks if Ratnakara sought to win the approval of the new school). Thus what one sees is a never ending debate on the true nature of rasa, or more particularly the true nature of mahakavya, since the main goal of any good poem is one that elicits rasa.
The very last thing I found very interesting in smith’s article is how the harda (the working members in society) produced some sort of poetry to praise the king, since their very survival was dependent upon him. Smith argues that these hardas were not from the priestly section of society that poets usually came from, but in fact from lower section of society. This not only preludes to the fact that poetry can be enjoyed by all members of society but that this enjoyment or experience originally came from the average. In fact, most mahakavyas that emphasize this idea of the union of Siva and Parvati, and how one should concentrate on worshipping this union forms the basis of the bhakti movement, which essentially makes the idea of moksa possible to all regardless of caste, sex or class. This connects mahakavya to wider audience.
The Kings of Court Epics: The “Free-Poet” vs. The “Conventionally-Tied Poet”
I never thought of court-epic poetry in such depth until this week. I was fully aware of the poet’s genius in the ability to create something that in some way transcends time and place, but unaware of the intricate details that point too much more. For example, the ability fro the poet to write an original poem that stay within the conventions of poetry, the astute awareness of the poet to choose words that do not only fit into his genius work, but also answers back to other poets, and finally the complicated reflection of history, time and place within mahakavya itself. On the three things I have just pointed out the one word that should be mentioned and which allows the poets to complete such complicated tasks is: SANSKRIT. Grammar within Sanskrit studies is one of the most “prestigious occupations” because of its ability to achieve so much in a 50-verse poem.
Smith focuses in on Ananda’s theory of dhvani because this is central to the art of poetry. He argues that poets focused on rasa, as it was well known and each took their own take on it. He shows how Ananda made it clear that rasa was used in both non-dramatic and dramatic poetry, but is used differently in both cases. Most poets choose to focus in on rasa, and they tend to lose the art of dhvani. Anada does on to say that very few have accomplished this through focusing in on the sentiment and developing their sentences around it through the use of dhvani instead of going into it blindly. Smith discusses how Anada looked down upon poets of the New School because they went into poetry blindly as they were filled with feeling and taste or in his words “cultured critics”. I believe that this suggests the great shift of the meaning of aesthetic experience as experienced through an art form as opposed to a religious experience experienced through a poets culture. According to Ananda’s view, poetry is appreciated as an art form because of the composition of the poem through the use of dhvani. In this instance, I believe that the only experience one can gain form this is an aesthetic experience, defined as enjoyment of art form. In contrast, mahakavya’s according to Ananda lack the genius of dhvani, as most “new” poets go into poetry attached to their culture, or having some sort of feeling or taste attached to their being. In my opinion, because of this the authors feelings and culture is expressed through the poem giving rise to something more than just an art form, it becomes an art form imbued with cultural symbols and religious philosophies. As a result the aesthetic experience is no longer an enjoyment of art, but rather an enjoyment of culture and religion. In short, for those versed in the tradition it becomes nothing short of a religious experience.
To conclude, the major point Smith makes is that poets were bound to the conventions of poetry and focused on his work that his own experiences were devalued. His poetry is the works of others, about others with little or no freedom to step outside of these conventions and create something different. In this instance the word universalism is revised. Sanskrit poetry was universal in a limited sense; it applied to the world of poets who were tied to conventions as opposed to universalism in the broader sense, in which poetry is accessible to everyone by virtue of the fact that they are human beings who experienced the major themes (love) to some extent.
There is so much more to discuss in this week readings, but I will leave that for class since this is only suppose to be 500 words.
Smith focuses in on Ananda’s theory of dhvani because this is central to the art of poetry. He argues that poets focused on rasa, as it was well known and each took their own take on it. He shows how Ananda made it clear that rasa was used in both non-dramatic and dramatic poetry, but is used differently in both cases. Most poets choose to focus in on rasa, and they tend to lose the art of dhvani. Anada does on to say that very few have accomplished this through focusing in on the sentiment and developing their sentences around it through the use of dhvani instead of going into it blindly. Smith discusses how Anada looked down upon poets of the New School because they went into poetry blindly as they were filled with feeling and taste or in his words “cultured critics”. I believe that this suggests the great shift of the meaning of aesthetic experience as experienced through an art form as opposed to a religious experience experienced through a poets culture. According to Ananda’s view, poetry is appreciated as an art form because of the composition of the poem through the use of dhvani. In this instance, I believe that the only experience one can gain form this is an aesthetic experience, defined as enjoyment of art form. In contrast, mahakavya’s according to Ananda lack the genius of dhvani, as most “new” poets go into poetry attached to their culture, or having some sort of feeling or taste attached to their being. In my opinion, because of this the authors feelings and culture is expressed through the poem giving rise to something more than just an art form, it becomes an art form imbued with cultural symbols and religious philosophies. As a result the aesthetic experience is no longer an enjoyment of art, but rather an enjoyment of culture and religion. In short, for those versed in the tradition it becomes nothing short of a religious experience.
To conclude, the major point Smith makes is that poets were bound to the conventions of poetry and focused on his work that his own experiences were devalued. His poetry is the works of others, about others with little or no freedom to step outside of these conventions and create something different. In this instance the word universalism is revised. Sanskrit poetry was universal in a limited sense; it applied to the world of poets who were tied to conventions as opposed to universalism in the broader sense, in which poetry is accessible to everyone by virtue of the fact that they are human beings who experienced the major themes (love) to some extent.
There is so much more to discuss in this week readings, but I will leave that for class since this is only suppose to be 500 words.
Bringing the God’s Down a Notch
David Smith’s take on Ratnakara’s Haravijaya was quite interesting to read as it offered me an alternative perspective for which to view the genre of Mahakavya.
At the core of the Haravijaya is a story of the merging of Siva and Parvati. Also, however, the author – Ratnakara – juxtaposes himself as a vital character in this story of the gods. He is the ocean. Ironically, his name actually means ‘ocean’!!!
What piqued my interest was Chapter 8: “The Gods and the Goddess”. Davis believes that kavya often adopts a neutral attitude towards the gods. That is to say, the gods are given almost a position of secondary importance, or that their heavenly statuses are neither fully expounded nor appreciated by the poet. One such example Davis cites come from the Meghaduta by Kalidasa, that was discussed in class a couple of weeks ago. In the Meghaduta, the intensity of the event surrounding Siva’s battle with the elephant is replaced with more mundane, gentler, sounds. The anxiety and pomp of the situation is tempered with the sound of a drum, rather than with the sound of thunder. The neutral attitude neutralizes the polarized situation (226).
Similarly, in Ratnakara’s poem, the author responds to the fierce entity of Siva’s skull-covered head that is dripping with blood, by juxtaposing it with a courtier who is chewing betel leaves. The reaction acts as water on the fire of an otherwise god-like awesome event. Davis asserts that this arrogance that bring the gods down a peg is inherent in kavya because in this mode, enthusiasm – even for the gods – is taboo (227). Hence, while kavya features the gods often, Davis maintains that “familiarity breeds neutrality” (228)…A sense of ‘been there done that’ that reeks of boredom and a lack of awe that the gods are otherwise awarded.
Kavya uses the gods as decorative figures – sprinkling the poem with bits of myths, serving as outlines for a greater plot line. Davis holds that kavya’s liberal use of these mythical outlines is in fact symptomatic of its greater disdain for the myth in its entirety – that is, by using snippets of the divine stories, the kavya is fulfilling it’s god-quota, while still managing to stay away from fully exalting the divine creatures within its poems.
Furthermore, Davis asserts that Ratnakara’s propensity to dispose of the divine is a manifestation of the inherent habit of mahakavya to dispose of reality and replace it, or supplement it, with a faux quality…Much like a drum is only fake thunder.
At the core of the Haravijaya is a story of the merging of Siva and Parvati. Also, however, the author – Ratnakara – juxtaposes himself as a vital character in this story of the gods. He is the ocean. Ironically, his name actually means ‘ocean’!!!
What piqued my interest was Chapter 8: “The Gods and the Goddess”. Davis believes that kavya often adopts a neutral attitude towards the gods. That is to say, the gods are given almost a position of secondary importance, or that their heavenly statuses are neither fully expounded nor appreciated by the poet. One such example Davis cites come from the Meghaduta by Kalidasa, that was discussed in class a couple of weeks ago. In the Meghaduta, the intensity of the event surrounding Siva’s battle with the elephant is replaced with more mundane, gentler, sounds. The anxiety and pomp of the situation is tempered with the sound of a drum, rather than with the sound of thunder. The neutral attitude neutralizes the polarized situation (226).
Similarly, in Ratnakara’s poem, the author responds to the fierce entity of Siva’s skull-covered head that is dripping with blood, by juxtaposing it with a courtier who is chewing betel leaves. The reaction acts as water on the fire of an otherwise god-like awesome event. Davis asserts that this arrogance that bring the gods down a peg is inherent in kavya because in this mode, enthusiasm – even for the gods – is taboo (227). Hence, while kavya features the gods often, Davis maintains that “familiarity breeds neutrality” (228)…A sense of ‘been there done that’ that reeks of boredom and a lack of awe that the gods are otherwise awarded.
Kavya uses the gods as decorative figures – sprinkling the poem with bits of myths, serving as outlines for a greater plot line. Davis holds that kavya’s liberal use of these mythical outlines is in fact symptomatic of its greater disdain for the myth in its entirety – that is, by using snippets of the divine stories, the kavya is fulfilling it’s god-quota, while still managing to stay away from fully exalting the divine creatures within its poems.
Furthermore, Davis asserts that Ratnakara’s propensity to dispose of the divine is a manifestation of the inherent habit of mahakavya to dispose of reality and replace it, or supplement it, with a faux quality…Much like a drum is only fake thunder.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Aesthetics meets religion through the experience of the Rasika
The cow of speech (vac) gives a special drink (rasa) out of affection
for her young;
That (rasa) laboriously milked by yogis cannot be compared to it.
In Wulff's article "The convergence of the aesthetic and the religious in Medieval India" the integration of aesthetic artistic experience and the transcendent religious experience are explained as integral to each other. In the comparison of the Saivi philosopher Abhinavagupta's (Kashmir 10th c) theoretical treatises with the Bengali Vaisnava, Rupa Gosvami's(16th c)text the Bhaktirasamrtasindhu two views of this integration are discovered. Through their explanations their cultural and religious environments are revealed.
For both the term "rasa" is central in terms of both aesthetic and religious experience. Rasa in it multiple meanings of "taste" "sentiment" "mood" in the aesthetic context is the arousing of this sentiment through the artistic medium of the drama or poem. In the religious sense it is the identification of the being with the ultimate reality of the universe, specifically that when one experiences "rasa" the experience is "blissful" (ananda). The link is made that the "rasavada" of aesthetic experience and the brahmasvada "the tasting of ultimate reality" fuse through each other. Wulff emphasises the to appreciate either it is necessary to leap over the conventional dichotomoy of these two worlds and find their fused center.
Looking at the similarities and differences of these two authors views illuminates the essence of this discussion. Abhinavagupta, drawing on statements of Anandavardhana expresses in his Dhvanyaloka formulates the analogy between rasavada and brahmasvada which sets the groundwork for this discussion. He discusses rasa in terms of its transcendent quality, the aesthetic experience becomes a religious experience. Abhinavagupta was steeped in the Kashmir Saiva system that posits the source of all human suffering is ignorance (ajana), limited consciousness that does not illuminate the whole of reality. Transcendence this limitation is discovered by the devotee through the profound recognition (pratyabhijna) of one's identity with Siva, through which one achieves liberation. With the absorbtion of one's full identity with the divine being and the experience of this egoless state there is the blissful union with the luminous intellegnce (prakasa) of Siva. This is owns pure nature and highest consciousness a mirror reflection of Siva. The process of the transformation of the consciousness from the mundane to the sublime and universal is achieved in stages where the ego-consciousness is reduced and the mmanent divine energy (sakti)is accessed. Abhinava equates the aesthtic experience as religious because they acheive a similar transcendence of the individual self.
For Abhinava the consciousness of the individual capable of this experience has subconscious residues or latent impressions of past experience (vasanas or samskaras-virtuous trace through previous religious effort) which include the emotions, experienced by beings through countless lifetimes. In the aesthetic production the fundamental emotions (sthyibhava) is aroused in the viewer/reader and a response is evoked through the production whereby the mundane emotion is transformed into a universal experience, transcendent of time and place. Through this the sahrdaya (sensitive spectator) experiences rasa a universal consciousness similar to that attained through yoga and that is fully realized in the state of moksa, subject and object are left behind, ego-limited perceptions are made sublime stuff of luminous consciousness and the experience is one of aesthetic joy "in which te object of knowledge is dissolved"
He views rasa as alaukika (supramundane) and of the quality of bliss (ananda). It is achieved by flowing past worldly desires by absorption in the work of art. The vasanas (latent experiences) are activated and ordinary emotion (bhava) is transformed into a transcendent condition (alaukikavastha) which for Abhinava is what is meant by "rasa". This experience is a pre-figuration of the ultimate moksa, the ultimate recognition that one is Siva. The experience is blissful because ones true nature is wholly blissful, and is full of wonder (camatkara). Abhinava admits that the aesthetic experience is temporary, like the initial religious experiences leading up to moksa. He sees a mixing of rasavada and brahmasvada in his very terminology, through the use of the term asvada (tasting), weaving the fabric that religious experience has aesthetic qualities and the aesthetic experience has religious qualities.
He posits that the aesthetic experience pre-figures and prepares one for the ultimate realization of the union of one's consciousness with Siva and thereby links the two points of poetry, moral instruction and pleasure. Both religious experience and aesthetic transcendence loosen the ego and lead to realization of one's true nature. His views are based on the analysis of consciousness and the unifying metaphysics of art and the ephemeral nature of both.
Rupa Gosvami in his theory of Bhaktirasa also views the rasa experience as religious. The differences in his view from Abhinava reflect the differences in thier religious and aesthetic backgrounds. For Rupa bhakti (devotion) takes prominence over jnana (metaphysical knowledge, the ground of Abhinava's view) and determined his interpretation of the rasa theory.
For Rupa the basic emotion (sthayibhava) is love (rati) for Krshna which is transformed into a rasa that can be perpetually savoured. The transformation is effected by the vibhavas that are evoked by Krshan and his entourage and attributes. His view differs from Abhinava's in some fundamental ways. He considers the experience of bhatirasa to be experienced as a constant, not limited to the duration of the production of a play or reading of a poem but like the constant presence of Krishna in the cosmic play (lila) to be everpresent. The devotee is to live in this state of constant absorption in this eternal drama, the ultimate reality for the Bengali Vaisnava. for Rupa the primarily aesthetic experience as described by Abhinava as a prefiguring of moksa is replaced by applying the aesthetic theory to the religious experience with a primary focus on the loving relationship between the devotee and the lord (he uses the term mudhura to replace srnagara, erotic love). He posits that all emotions are subsumed into the one primary rasa that of love (rati) graded in a series of five relationships, santa (peaceful), dsya (servant to master), sdhya (friendship), bhava vatsalya (parental affection), madhura bhaktirasa (the transfigured erotic love to a devotional object).
In Rupa's writings rasa is used in a religious sense, bhaktirasa as the highest ideal of life. for Rupa an experience of a aesthetic production is not a religious experience, or a pre-figuration as for Abhinava, however the refinement of ones sensibility towards the Lord involved the distillation of the emotions through repeated encounters with the universal drama of Krishna and his entourage. This involves an aesthetic refinement and richness of religious emotion.
Rupa gave systematic formulation to an aesthetic mode of piety, where Abhinava gave a religious aspect to the experience of the aesthetic. Both however show the meeting and fusion of the two.
This was a truly remarkable exploration of the religious aspect of rasa.
for her young;
That (rasa) laboriously milked by yogis cannot be compared to it.
In Wulff's article "The convergence of the aesthetic and the religious in Medieval India" the integration of aesthetic artistic experience and the transcendent religious experience are explained as integral to each other. In the comparison of the Saivi philosopher Abhinavagupta's (Kashmir 10th c) theoretical treatises with the Bengali Vaisnava, Rupa Gosvami's(16th c)text the Bhaktirasamrtasindhu two views of this integration are discovered. Through their explanations their cultural and religious environments are revealed.
For both the term "rasa" is central in terms of both aesthetic and religious experience. Rasa in it multiple meanings of "taste" "sentiment" "mood" in the aesthetic context is the arousing of this sentiment through the artistic medium of the drama or poem. In the religious sense it is the identification of the being with the ultimate reality of the universe, specifically that when one experiences "rasa" the experience is "blissful" (ananda). The link is made that the "rasavada" of aesthetic experience and the brahmasvada "the tasting of ultimate reality" fuse through each other. Wulff emphasises the to appreciate either it is necessary to leap over the conventional dichotomoy of these two worlds and find their fused center.
Looking at the similarities and differences of these two authors views illuminates the essence of this discussion. Abhinavagupta, drawing on statements of Anandavardhana expresses in his Dhvanyaloka formulates the analogy between rasavada and brahmasvada which sets the groundwork for this discussion. He discusses rasa in terms of its transcendent quality, the aesthetic experience becomes a religious experience. Abhinavagupta was steeped in the Kashmir Saiva system that posits the source of all human suffering is ignorance (ajana), limited consciousness that does not illuminate the whole of reality. Transcendence this limitation is discovered by the devotee through the profound recognition (pratyabhijna) of one's identity with Siva, through which one achieves liberation. With the absorbtion of one's full identity with the divine being and the experience of this egoless state there is the blissful union with the luminous intellegnce (prakasa) of Siva. This is owns pure nature and highest consciousness a mirror reflection of Siva. The process of the transformation of the consciousness from the mundane to the sublime and universal is achieved in stages where the ego-consciousness is reduced and the mmanent divine energy (sakti)is accessed. Abhinava equates the aesthtic experience as religious because they acheive a similar transcendence of the individual self.
For Abhinava the consciousness of the individual capable of this experience has subconscious residues or latent impressions of past experience (vasanas or samskaras-virtuous trace through previous religious effort) which include the emotions, experienced by beings through countless lifetimes. In the aesthetic production the fundamental emotions (sthyibhava) is aroused in the viewer/reader and a response is evoked through the production whereby the mundane emotion is transformed into a universal experience, transcendent of time and place. Through this the sahrdaya (sensitive spectator) experiences rasa a universal consciousness similar to that attained through yoga and that is fully realized in the state of moksa, subject and object are left behind, ego-limited perceptions are made sublime stuff of luminous consciousness and the experience is one of aesthetic joy "in which te object of knowledge is dissolved"
He views rasa as alaukika (supramundane) and of the quality of bliss (ananda). It is achieved by flowing past worldly desires by absorption in the work of art. The vasanas (latent experiences) are activated and ordinary emotion (bhava) is transformed into a transcendent condition (alaukikavastha) which for Abhinava is what is meant by "rasa". This experience is a pre-figuration of the ultimate moksa, the ultimate recognition that one is Siva. The experience is blissful because ones true nature is wholly blissful, and is full of wonder (camatkara). Abhinava admits that the aesthetic experience is temporary, like the initial religious experiences leading up to moksa. He sees a mixing of rasavada and brahmasvada in his very terminology, through the use of the term asvada (tasting), weaving the fabric that religious experience has aesthetic qualities and the aesthetic experience has religious qualities.
He posits that the aesthetic experience pre-figures and prepares one for the ultimate realization of the union of one's consciousness with Siva and thereby links the two points of poetry, moral instruction and pleasure. Both religious experience and aesthetic transcendence loosen the ego and lead to realization of one's true nature. His views are based on the analysis of consciousness and the unifying metaphysics of art and the ephemeral nature of both.
Rupa Gosvami in his theory of Bhaktirasa also views the rasa experience as religious. The differences in his view from Abhinava reflect the differences in thier religious and aesthetic backgrounds. For Rupa bhakti (devotion) takes prominence over jnana (metaphysical knowledge, the ground of Abhinava's view) and determined his interpretation of the rasa theory.
For Rupa the basic emotion (sthayibhava) is love (rati) for Krshna which is transformed into a rasa that can be perpetually savoured. The transformation is effected by the vibhavas that are evoked by Krshan and his entourage and attributes. His view differs from Abhinava's in some fundamental ways. He considers the experience of bhatirasa to be experienced as a constant, not limited to the duration of the production of a play or reading of a poem but like the constant presence of Krishna in the cosmic play (lila) to be everpresent. The devotee is to live in this state of constant absorption in this eternal drama, the ultimate reality for the Bengali Vaisnava. for Rupa the primarily aesthetic experience as described by Abhinava as a prefiguring of moksa is replaced by applying the aesthetic theory to the religious experience with a primary focus on the loving relationship between the devotee and the lord (he uses the term mudhura to replace srnagara, erotic love). He posits that all emotions are subsumed into the one primary rasa that of love (rati) graded in a series of five relationships, santa (peaceful), dsya (servant to master), sdhya (friendship), bhava vatsalya (parental affection), madhura bhaktirasa (the transfigured erotic love to a devotional object).
In Rupa's writings rasa is used in a religious sense, bhaktirasa as the highest ideal of life. for Rupa an experience of a aesthetic production is not a religious experience, or a pre-figuration as for Abhinava, however the refinement of ones sensibility towards the Lord involved the distillation of the emotions through repeated encounters with the universal drama of Krishna and his entourage. This involves an aesthetic refinement and richness of religious emotion.
Rupa gave systematic formulation to an aesthetic mode of piety, where Abhinava gave a religious aspect to the experience of the aesthetic. Both however show the meeting and fusion of the two.
This was a truly remarkable exploration of the religious aspect of rasa.
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