Reviews

The Making of the Mahatma by Dr. Chandran D. S. Devanesen. Orient Longmans, Ltd., Madras-2. Price: Rs. 35

This volume is the expansion of a thesis which the author submitted for his doctorate to the Department of History of the University of Harvard. He has attempted to bring out the circumstances which according to him had shaped the ordinary individual of a Gandhi into a Mahatma.

In tracing the history of Gandhiji’s forebears and their antecedents as well as their upbringing in the religious atmosphere of those periods of India’s exclusiveness from an outer wide world, the first chapter of the book naturally deals with the times which preceded the British conquest of Gujarat. The early contact with the ruling house of one of the smaller principalities, Porbandar, gave the family of Gandhiji its status among the folk of the times. The influences of Jain religion were responsible for the later development of Gandhiji’s proneness to fasts and padayaatras. Also the Christian Missionary’s work of conversion alienated the sympathies of Gandhiji towards the religion, though Christian ethics easily attracted him from the first.

Gandhiji’s stay in England as a youth introduced him to a knowledge of Hinduism itself, because of his friendship with some of the Theosophists. The three years of his education in England induced him to appreciate some of the traits of the Englishman, especially his sense of fairness to opponents.

There were many other fields of interest for him while in England, such as vegetarianism, temperance, trade unionism, etc., which provided the ground for some of his later theories on these subjects. But it was in South Africa, that Gandhiji’s mind received the vital development when faced by numerous disabilities and difficulties consequent upon racial discrimination and colour prejudice, to which unfortunately he was subjected along with many of his countrymen.

The eventful career of the Mahatma as an able organiser and propagandist of worthy causes was born of his indomitable courage and conviction to stand against all disadvantages of belonging to a subject race. He felt, on the eve of his departure for India, on seeing a report in the press of the Disenfranchisement Bill to be passed by the Legislature of Pretoria, that he should extend his stay in that country in order to help his countrymen from out of a grave situation enveloping them. He said: “Thus God laid the foundations of my life in South Africa and sowed the seeds of the fight for national self-respect.” Gandhiji soon grew into a leader of men which the author characterises, as having resulted in a “streak of censoriousness” owing to his “puritanical role as the young moral preceptor and guide of a community freed from traditional restraints.”

The anxiety for his countrymen frequently goaded Gandhiji to argue “that the Indians were not in South Africa on sufferance but as matter of right.” The movement started by him for passive resistance gave him the necessary strength of mind to carry on the experiment later, of non-violent agitation in India during the historical fight for freedom.

The final chapter of the book deals with the book Hind Swaraj which the author calls the ‘Manifesto of Gandhian Revolution.’ The kernel of Gandhiji’s philosophy has been stated in the few sentences of his: “Who is the true warrior–he who keeps death always as a bosom friend or he who controls death of others.” In giving the brief contents of that seminal book of Gandhiji’s constructive ideas for the regeneration of his country, the author here makes the reader alive to what from early times gathered momentum and force to result in a strong conviction which stood the test of time. For, even as late as 1938 when the ‘Aryan Path’ invited opinions regarding the publication in a fresh edition, Gandhiji was only saying that despite the intervening years since its first appearance in 1909, there was little need to change his views which he had already expressed.

Dr. Chandran Devanesen has made enormous researches in trying to gain a lot of information from many sources to prove how for many of the Mahatma’s later doctrines and well-established principles there had been enough influences both environmental as well as ideological from the time of his early emergence into a wider world.

On the whole the volume under review has added much thoughtful material to the existing literature on Gandhiji. A glance at the Bibliography towards the last, can give the reader what amount of reading of other books and cogitation had gone into the making of this volume itself.

The publishers have to be congratulated on their not only producing a fine book, but on their efficiency in seeing to no printers’ devils marring the pages of a useful, substantial edition to the Gandhian literature.
–K. CHANDRASEKHARAN

Philosophical Foundations of Bengal Vaishnavism: By S. C. Chakravarti. Academic Publishers, 11 Panchanan Ghose Lane, Calcutta. 9. Pp. 437. Price Rs. 30.

In this scholarly study of the philosophical bases and implications of the Vaishnava movement in Bengal, the author has given a systematic exposition of its attitude towards Epistemology; the psychological analysis of knowledge and error; relation to the Advaita of Sankara and distinction from other Vaishnava schools; the nature of the Reality. the significance of the Bhagawataspect; theory of causation; doctrine of Avatarhood, specially relating to Krishna; Bhakti vis a vis Karma and Jnana; the role of Love in leading to the supreme realisation; similarity between this Vaishnavism and Existentialism; Ethics; contribution to Metaphysics–Ahintyabhedabheda; Rasa and Vaishnava aesthetics; comparison with Christianity.

He concludes: “As a philosophy Bengal Vaishnavism is a form of idealistic monism that reconciles all differences and dualities in a supralogical unity. It is neither pure dualism nor pure non-dualism, but dualistic non-dualism closely resembling the system of Nimbaarka. What is peculiar to it is its emphasis on the inscrutable power of Krishna and the logically inconceivable nature of the relation of difference in non-difference. While Nimbaarka regards both difference and non-difference between God and the finite spirits as also between God and the world as natural and logically explicable, the teachers of the Bengal school of Vaishnavism hold that the relation of difference-in-non-difference, though undeniable on scriptural grounds, is not intelligible to logical understanding.”

A standard book on a much misunderstood subject.
–M. P. PANDIT

Kingsley Martin - Portrait and Self-Portrait: Edited by Mervyn Jones. Barrie & Jenkins (Barrie Books Ltd.), 2, Clement’s Inn, London W.C.-2. Price: Rs. 35.

Kasturi Srinivasan: By V. K. Narasimhan. Popular Prakashan, 35, Tardeo Road, Bombay-34 W. B. Price: Rs. 20.

With the growth of the newspaper as an industry and a trade, one thinks less and less of journalism as a mission or as an art. The idealist in this field, where he manages to survive at all, is taken for an eccentric–the more uncompromising he is the more cranky he would be deemed to be. Nor should it be a matter for wonder to anyone who keeps his eyes and ears open. Gone by are the days of great editors in England like Massingham and Stead, Spender and Gardiner. The Northcliffes and the Beaverbrooks, the Rothermeres and the rest of the Press barons had taken due care about this. So is the case almost everywhere in the world. In India too, the age of the Chintamanis and the Kalinath Roys, of Ramananda Chatterjis and Khasa Subba Raus has become a thing of the past. Have we not our own Northcliffes and Beaverbrooks, who, however, cannot be accused of having the professional flair of their originals?

But, perhaps now, even these press bosses, who seemed so invincible till the other day, are driven to be on the defensive, confronted as they are by the threat of a greater force, of regimentation in the name of popular will, as is the practice of our “progressive” mentors. They are no longer overly eager to lay down the law for others. They are just content to survive in affluence, making their pile on the sly, as best as they could.

There is, or at least used to be, another kind of editor more closely identified with his paper than the average working journalist and less commercial in his attitude than the ordinary proprietor. His idealism was never so unworldly as to endanger the existence of the paper. His material success, where it was achieved, was so tempered by a sense of value as not to make it soul-less. At first sight, there might be little in common between Kingsley Martin of New Statesman and Kasturi Srinivasan of The Hindu. Any comparison between them might seem rather far-fetched, as the points of difference could be more glaring than the similarities.

Martin was an intellectual who left the grooves of academy for the wider field of journalism, with its share of adventures. Srinivasan might have been a medical doctor if he had his way. He came into the newspaper line because it was a family business and his father left him little choice in the matter. But he grew with the job on hand, as if to the manner born. It would be hard to think of two other editors who meant so much for their papers and for so long. Their tenure of editorship, lasting nearly three decades, roughly covered the same period, starting from the early Thirties of this century.

It is futile to speculate what Martin would have done if he had not been selected as Editor of New Statesman in 1931, when he was practically out of job, after leaving C. P. Scott’s’ Manchester Guardian. The young Radical found himself a square peg in the round hole of a conservative sort of liberal newspaper, whose self-righteousness he could not share. Lucky it was that the Directors of New Statesman (J. Maynard Keynes and Arnold Bennett, besides Shaw and the Webbs, who were the founders) were looking for a successor to Clifford Sharp who had drunk himself out of the job and Martin was badly in need of it just at that time. But, as it so happened, it was not merely a professional job for him. He ate, drank, slept and lived with it till 1960, when he retired from the paper. He retired from the editorship, but he continued to write for it till almost his dying day in 1969.

The struggling, highbrow periodical that he took over was transformed by Martin, through the years, into a vigorous and flourishing institution. Its losses were soon wiped out and it began to pay its way. Circulation figures were multiplied. But that was not his only, or even the main, achievement. Commercial success, however, came to it as a natural by-product and not worked for as the only end in its life. New Statesman established itself as the voice of Radicalism and dissent in England and elsewhere. In fact, it became the focal point of intellectuals the world over, in their struggle against colonialism and imperialism. Laski and the Coles formed the inspiring brotherhood of its patron-saints. The Establishment was its favourite target, which continued to be so, even when the Labour came to power.

Of no other journal could it be said with equal justice that in the ‘Thirties and the Forties, and to a lesser extent in the Fifties it was a sort of weekly political bible for the conscience-stricken nonconformist. It was to the credit of Kingsley Martin that he gathered round him, on his editorial staff, a brilliant band of writers. Not all of them were drawn to him for the material rewards involved in the bargain, which were not comparable to those available in the mass-circulation dailies or the popular Sunday papers. Some of them could easily outshine their chief in sheer writing ability or depth of scholarship, Mr. Richard Crossman, for instance. But none of them was known for his eagerness to replace him, at the earliest opportunity.

Discussing the political philosophy and editorial policy of Kingsley Martin, Mr. Crossman, closely connected with both the New Statesman and the Labour leadership, says in a reminiscential tribute:

“...He (Kingsley Martin) felt that the aim of a speech is not to persuade people to agree with you, but to persuade people to disagree in order to think better. This was the quality of the New Statesman as a paper. It said: ‘We don’t really mind as long as we provoke disagreement.’ This was the bump of irreverence which I loved best of all in Kingsley...”

“This is what made the New Statesman such a difficult and interesting paper to work for, if one was on the National Executive as well. It made a nice and precise conflict of loyalty between truth and ideas on the one side, and practical possibilities on the other. These are, of course, the essence of politics; and this dialectic of Kingsley’s between idea and practice is the central problem of politics. He was in on the central problem, and yet he was tackling it in a way that bore no relation to what we thought practical, and in so doing he was helping to create a social climate, within which change could take place. This was the art of Kingsley: ideas as a solvent of the establishment, ideas to debunk, ideas to corrode established authority...This was the attitude that made the New Statesman the most exciting paper to write for. I think myself, therefore, that he was the greatest of our journalists. He lived with the Zeitgeist and he expressed the Zeitgeist.”

To the portrait of the man and the editor, that forms part of the well-planned volume, edited by Mervyn Jones sketches are contributed by friends and colleagues, as well as admirers, who had known this subject at close quarters and are under no compunction to be uncritical about it. V. S. Pritchett has a special tribute, in which he looks upon Martin as a heroic figure of the seventeenth century, who had gone through all the political and intellectual movements till the present day. Janet Adam Smith, who had worked on the literary side of the paper throws light on the human side of a man with all his foibles--parsimonious as well as generous, flippant as well as serious and scholarly. The two Indian contributors are Professor Humayun Kabir and Mr. Apa B. Pant, India’s Envoy in Cairo, with whom Martin stayed at the time of his death, while on a visit to the U. A. R. Lord Francis Williams, and Messrs. Michael Foot, Tom Drieberg, John Freeman and Norman Mackenzie reveal different aspects of a personality lovable and always full of life.

The second part of the book seeks to present a self-portrait of Martin, through a selection of his varied writings, including extracts from Critic’s London Diary and other articles and reviews. “Journey round my room” brings together three of his radio talks, in a condensed form, in which he recalls his travels around the world and muses on many things. In some ways, the most revealing single contribution in this section is a brief note, not previously published, written by Martin on a sheet of paper in 1948. All the unfulfilled longings find expression in the whimsical, almost Lamb-like piece, not without its touch of irony, at the author’s own expense:

“I must really simplify my life, I said. I do too many things. I diffuse my activities; I wear myself out with conflicting ambitions, and disharmonious endeavours. I allow the strain of the external world, the speed of a mechanical age to dictate to my mental and nervous system. In a simpler life I could achieve a more healthy rhythm...If I had leisure. I could travel to the countries I had always wanted to understand and become a specialist in the Turkish and Chinese Revolutions. I could lecture about them in America, write a play and learn how to make money and invest it in the rising stocks in New York. I could read all the great books I neglected in my youth, wear slippers and browse comfortably by the fire and keep a diary revealing the secrets of my past life and recording the good things said by the important people I met. I should play chess in the long winter evenings and when I was seventy, play tennis, like Lord Balfour or the King of Sweden. If I had leisure, I could wander about London, explore its night life, go to the theatre, join a few good clubs and meet exciting, exotic women...Yes, I must simplify my life, earn the reputation of a cultured good fellow, known by everyone and disliked by none. I should be loved for myself alone. When I died, The Times would give me six inches of sympathetic obituary. I must really simplify my life.

Many a fraternal heart would beat in unison with his, for this were the most natural of cravings in a crowded life. But, one can’t help feeling that the “simplified life” of his imagination does not, after all, seem any the simpler than the life that he actually led. He would, perhaps, have the reader see the innocent joke in all this. The gentle dig at The Times is rather undeserved, in this instance, as the reviewer has no doubt that Kingsley Martin would have got a lot more than the six inches expected by him (though he has not seen the review). There are a number of good photographs to go with the portrait and the self-portrait that go to make up a book, which every general reader would love to go through and no journalist should do without.

One cannot, in fairness, expect the life of Kasturi Srinivasan to be as exciting as that of Kingsley Martin. For one thing, The Hindu never tried to be exciting, in the presentation of news or the expression of its views. It was content to be reliable and was not afraid to be dull, where it was unavoidable. It could always be proud of being authoritative and unimpeachable. To the stewardship of an institution, which has attained the status of a public trust without ceasing to be a family concern, Srinivasan brought the qualities of quiet courage and high public spirit, as well as cautious enterprise and shrewd business acumen. It was through the management line that he came to the editorship. He had a high conception of editorial office, whose independence he never allowed to be interfered with by any outside agency–be it the British rulers or the Indian leaders, the Dewans of Native States or the heads of rich and powerful business houses. A stickler for standards, he was happy that the world thought well of his paper.

Mr. V. K. Narasimhan, the author, who had spent a lifetime on the paper, and in a responsible position, surveys the period of expansion and consolidation of The Hindu under the editorship of Srinivasan. The latter’s qualities of courage and moderation in his role of leader of the Indian Press (as President of AINEC during war-time) in dealing with the Government and later as a negotiator of the agreement with the Reuters are well brought out.

Srinivasan was not a writing editor. But he knew where to look for talent and how to encourage it. He valued efficiency, but honesty and dependability even more. It was not a little due to him that The Hindu hasbeen a name to reckon with rather like the Guardian and The Times of England, The New York Times of America and Le Monde of France. He was indeed a benevolent patriarch who was also a great editor–always a rare species, now becoming rarer still.
–D. ANJANEYULU

The Brahmanical Culture and Modernity: A. D. Moddie. Asia Publishing House, Bombay. Pages 143. Price Rs. 16.

Why is not India, like a rickety child, progressing satisfactorily even after twenty years of independence and in spite of three five-year plans? Mr. Moddie has a ready answer. It is the Brahmanical culture of the Indian intellectuals that is making all the plans ineffective and retarding the growth of the nation. It is the wide gulf among the elite, between the traditional Indian Brahmanical culture and the modern industrial culture, that is at the root of this pathetic picture. The term Brahmanical culture here stands for “the essence of the traditional culture in India at the end of Indo-British convection, a culture of rigid and narrow caste or class superiority, subservient attitudes to authority, and static attitudes towards change in thought, systems and relationships. Its roots are partly in Hindu History and partly in Muslim and British Governments in India, and they spring from an ancient and heterogeneous past.” The modern or industrial culture on the other hand is “essentially international, not village or caste-based in its social motivations. It is scientific, rational; it is achievement-oriented and it acknowledges not a hard hierarchy but a mobile elite of intellect, skills, and wealth or material advancement which is its objective.” The means that the author prescribes to bridge this gulf is shedding of our static culture and acquiring the world “Samskrita culture; a modern Visvadharma of science technology and art.”

In the first part of the book entitled “Aspects of Brahmanical Culture” the author like a psychiatrist, makes a psycho-analysis of the case and concludes, that our traditional concepts like status and authority, ‘Thyaga’ and ‘Maya’ (renunciation and illusion) and our attitudes to time, work and wealth (we only amend this as misunderstood and wrongly applied concepts etc.,) are solely responsible for the sordid picture of our present state of affairs. He ably shows how the modern Indian politician, administrator, businessman and academecian, including even Pandit Nehru, among whom there is no co-ordination, are not immune from the influences of these concepts. He rightly believes that “one has to travel far in India to find a teacher with a passion for his subject, a teacher who infects his students with a bit of his own love for his branch of study, or who is alive to the latest developments in his field Like the politicians, most teachers’ minds are at least a generation out of date, if not more.”

In the second part the author deals with the varied aspects of modern culture. He points out that restoration of the intellect to fill up the gaping gulf is the dire need of the day. The author is at his best while discussing some important topics like Science and Technology, Decision making, Inter-disciplinary skills, Organisation building and Mass communications, wherein he draws our attention to the draws in our modern set-up. Many of his remarks are noteworthy. “They put political or policy decisions first and leave the technical work to suit those decisions.” “Political attitudes have substituted scientific ones.” “The planners have failed to see that there can be economic growth without macro- economics, but with a great deal of micro-economics as in West Germany and Japan.” Can we deny when the author declares that “a vast reservoir of patronage exists to find places even for the ineffective at all levels.” All these open our eyes to the hard facts that are staring at our face. We commend to all truth-seeking intellectuals, this well written book, which provides much invigorating food for thought, and prods our complacent intellectuals to proper understanding of the situation and prompt action.
–B. KUTUMBA RAO

The Image of Nehru: Edited by G. S. Jolly. Prabhu Book Service, Delhi. Price: Rs. 15.

This anthology of essays written by eminent leaders of opinion like Dr. Radhakrishnan, Jayaprakash Narayan, Frank Moraes, and others, presents an interesting variety of approach and appraisal. Each writer looks at this most interesting figure of modern times from his standpoint and reacts in his own way. Out of these divergent evaluations the shining image of Nehru emerges with multi-faceted glory. As an intrepid fighter in the battle for freedom, as a fervent lover of peace and international amity, as the propounder of the doctrine of non-alignment, as an arch idealist and visionary, and above all as a towering personality who made secular democracy a vital reality in modern India, Jawaharlal Nehru stands out in these pages. Less recognised aspects like his love of beauty, zeal for knowledge and interest in culture as well as history are revealed by the contributors. The multi-dimensional Nehru was the most lovable of human beings to those who had the privilege of seeing him at close quarters. As one who loved India ardently and as one who has been loved by the people of India abundantly Nehru takes his place among the great and gifted sons of the land. This anthology helps us look at Nehru from different angles and understand the significance of his life and work, evaluating both in a rational way which was dear to Nehru who grappled with mighty problems in an idealistic and humanistic manner.
–DR. C. N. SASTRI

Ganadevataby Tarasankar Banerjee. Translated into English by Lila Ray. Pearl Publications Private Ltd., Bombay-I. Pp. 260. Price: Rs. 7-50.

The present book by one of Bengal’s “greatest literary figures, the powerful poet, dramatiser and novelist portrays in a vivid and moving manner the life of a village community in Bengal. Although the setting is rural Bengal, almost any other village and its community will be no different.

There are numerous characters but hardly anyone of them can be dismissed as superfluous or unnecessary. In fact, nearly every profession has a vital role to play and all occupations are more or less intertwined in the compact community.

The temple pavilion (which name, incidentally, is the sub-title of the book) is the nucleus of many types of congregation–teaching, Council of Five, and offering oblations to the presiding deity. The story does not centre round any particular individual, although the author seems to have made Devu alias Devendranath Ghosh the cynosure of other characters. For he is young, handsome, educated (he does teaching for a time) and well-off. For his age he is incredibly compassionate, soft-spoken and highly helpful to fellow-citizens. He is so passionately devoted to social service that, utterly unmindful of his own personal health, he helps in the cremation of victims of cholera, even though they are untouchables. His confidence that God does not render undue harm to him is shattered by the death of his own beautiful young wife and child who contract the same disease. Yet, by and by, he recovers composure and faith in humanity.

Among the other characters that stand out are Chiru alias Srihari Pal and Durga. Chiru is a scoundrel and is responsible for the misery of many a poor villager. One of the main victims of his scurrilous behaviour is Aniruddha, the blacksmith.

Durga is the village prostitute. Though fallen physically, she is superior to many so-called big-wigs mentally and sentimentally. She is dynamic if coquetish and acts as dare-devil in saving innocent sufferers. The induction of Jatin, the political detenu, into the village contributes not a little to the high drama of the village. Nyaratna’s allegorical accounts of the vagaries of Lakshmi, the Goddess of Fortune, are highly entertaining.

The fame of journalists is usually well-deserved, and famous writers do not generally disappoint. However, all the works that come out of a reputed writer’s pen need not invariably be great. The author richly deserves the Jnanpith Award for his great contribution to Bengali literature, though this novel of his can’t be adjudged as his best work.
–K. V. SATYANARAYANA

Facets of Gandhi: Edited by B. K. Ahluwalia. Lakshmi Book Store. New Delhi. Pages 221. Price: Rs. 20. 

Mahatma Gandhi has an honoured place in the history of modern India as an authentic exponentof the tradition of India’s non-violence, as a great Indian and as the dominant influence on Indian politics during the final phase of India’s struggle for freedom. Although his contribution towards an understanding of the concept of non-violence on the political plane is clear, no final assessment of his work as a whole will be possible until his writings on sociological and economic affairs are viewed in the right perspective. Here it will be relevant to review a recent publication entitled. ‘Facets of Gandhi’. This collection of articles on Gandhi can be described as a combination of commentary and sermon. The commentary–  derived from two outstanding pieces by Dr. Radhakrishnan and Prof. Yamunacharya–includes some aspects of Gandhian thought ranging from a discussion of means and ends in politics to an understanding of the impact of the Gita on the Mahatma. The sermon–based on the articles of contemporaries like Pyarelal, Rajendra Prasad, Diwakar and Kripalani–is on the text of the Gandhian dispensation which not only unveils the vistas of a new world order, but also suggests that the action of the Government of India ought to be conditioned by the Gandhian ethic!

It is not generally known that Gandhiji was a man of taste. For example, Nehru’s comment on Gandhi is less than fair: “Gandhiji had little sense of beauty or artistry in man-made objects, though he admired natural beauty.” “My room may have blank walls,” he wrote, “and I may even dispense with the roof so that I may gaze upon the starry heavens overhead that stretch in an unending star expanse of beauty. What conscious art of man can give me the panoramic scenes that open out before me when I look to the sky above?” “This, however,” he added, “does not mean that I refuse to accept the value of productions of art but only that I personally feel how inadequate they are compared with the eternal symbols of beauty in Nature.” It is this feeling for beauty which he expressed in his impassioned response to the Himalayas: “I was charmed with the natural scenery and bowed my head in reverence to our ancestors for their sense of the beautiful in nature, and for their foresight in investing the beautiful manifestations of nature with religious significance. His response to the concept of tree worship is equally impassioned: “I find in it deep pathos and poetic beauty, It symbolizes true reverence for the entire vegetable kingdom which, with its endless panorama of beautiful shapes and forms, declares to us as it were with a million tongues the greatness and glory of God.”

Gandhi’s technophobia was based on an aesthetic view of ancient and mediaeval Indian civilization. He believes that earthen lamps were beautiful than electric lights. This approach is reminiscent of Coomaraswamy’s nostalgia for “the beauty and the logic” of the authentically Indian way of life. It is hardly surprising that Gandhiji was critical of the factory age which ushered in an era of ugliness and alienation. It is a view of life which has been analysed in depth by Ananda Coomaraswamy. For Coomaraswamy’s thesis is based on the argument that the cultural cleavage between East and West became pronounced in the wake of the Renaissance. Indeed Coomaraswamy’s world view which encompassed the insights of Plato, Meister Eckhart, Buddha and Anandavardhana, was a more sophisticated version  of Gandhi’s emphasis on teraditional Indian view which did not set up barriers between arts and crafts. In the ultimate analysis, Gandhi’s aesthetic approach to life was derived from ethical foundations. For he defined art as “the mirror of truth “. Furthermore he explained that “when man begins to see beauty in truth, true art arises.” And just as Gandhi’s non-violence was inspired by the ethical idealism the of the Buddha, so was Gandhi’s aesthetic view influenced by the Buddha who observed that the essence of the good life consists of the “contemplation of the beautiful.”
–A. RANGANATHAN