Books and Authors

There are fashions in linguistic and literary scholarship just as there are fashions in political ideology and social etiquette. These might, however, serve as a cynical commentary on the oft ­repeated saying that change is a law of life, which, of course, does not mean that all intelligent men and women will do well to change everything within their power once in six months at least. One is only reminded of Oscar Wilde’s definition of ‘fashion’ in a different context, as a form of ugliness that has to be changed every few months.

Time was in India when poets and scholars, or scholar-poets, if you like, (and these two terms were all too closely associated, where they were not inter-changed) had to go through the mill of Sanskrit learning in their early years, before thinking of earning recognition from their betters. The situation in Europe was not quite different, for a solid grounding in Greek and Latin was considered a sine qua non for any educated man. In the older universities of Oxford and Cambridge (in England), Padua and Messina (in Italy), the Sonborne (in France), Gottingen and Munich (in Germany), Latin and Greek were compulsory for many centuries. The position was further strengthened by the forces at work during the Renaissance. It may be interesting to remember that the university area is still popularly known as the Latin quarter (Quartier Latin). Also that the course for a study of the classics at Oxford is called ‘the Greats’.

It would be simplistic on the part of any student of language and literature to maintain that any language, not spoken in the market place of his town or village, is of no earthly use. There are levels of communication in society as there are layers of percep­tion in the human psyche. The language of the kitchen and the restaurant and the market-place is not necessarily the best-­for the council chamber; certainly not for a conclave of scholars, an assembly of philosophers or a seminar of scientists.

The long, unbroken cultural tradition from the Vedas and Upanishads through the works of Sankara and the other great Acharyas to the Kavyas and Natakas and commentaries and learned expositions of a later day is hardly paralleled in point of time or of space. Even at the ordinary mundane level, many Indians of today, the Tamils not excluded, are not quite aware that they continue to speak some kind of Sanskrit in their own languages. Rather like the well-known character from Moliere, who was pleasantly surprised to be told (by his teacher) that he had been speaking prose all his life.

In some states of India, especially Tamil Nadu, a systematic attempt has been made in recent times to “purify” the regional language, which is the state language, by eliminating all the words suspected to be of foreign, including Aryan (i.e., Sanskrit), origin. A latter-day example of “Bowdlerization”, it could be. For instance, the honorific prefix, ‘Sri’, which is in vogue all over India, has been officially replaced by the word ‘Thiru’ believed to be purely indigenous (i. e. Dravidian) origin. But it is interest­ing to see what an erudite linguist has to say on this matter. In his essay on the “Language of Social Hierarchy,” Dr. K. Kunjuni Raja writes:
“…..The recent attempt in Madras to substitute the all­ India prefix Sri by Tiru, before the names of men was based on this belief that ‘Tiru’ is an independent form, not derived from Sanskrit. Ancient words where the form ‘Tiru’ could be interpreted as referring both to wealth or beauty and to Lakshmi, the consort of Vishnu, seem to support the view that ‘Tiru’ is an ancient derivation from Sri. There is no clear independent word beginning with ‘Tiru’ in such a sense in other Dravidian languages like Kannada and Telugu; and ‘Sri’ occurs in the Rigvedaand also in the Avestan(as Sri-ra, beautiful)”.

Advocates of ‘Thiru’ might, of course, very well adduce the argument (or hypothesis) that it might have existed in works older than the Rigveda. Who knows? Not this writer, at any rate! But Dr. Raja is an academic with a high sense of objectivity, who combines the traditional Sanskrit learning of the Namboodiris of Kerala with the scientific approach of the modern researcher, trained in the methodology of the West. The quotation cited earlier is taken from the volume Raja Sudha, which brings together some of the learned papers of Dr. Raja brought out on the occasion of his Shashtyabdapoorti (Sixtieth birthday) celebrations recently in Madras. These papers cover a wide range, including language and literature, philosophy and aesthetics, interpretation of obscure passages and the editing of difficult manuscripts.

Of special interest to research scholars in Sanskrit are Dr. Raja’s observations on the subject of textual studies and editorial problems. His is a counsel of caution, taking advantage of the best that the East and the West have to offer in this field. Of a more general appeal is his comprehensive survey of the Indian influence on linguistics from the day of Sir William Jones (1746-94) to Prof. J. R. Firth and other scholars of the present century.

In the brilliant galaxy that followed, from Schlegel, Bopp and Grimn through Max Mueller and Whitemey to Jesperson and Chatterji, there might have been differing views on the relative importance of Sanskrit, but the Indian influence on the study of linguistics has not been denied by any one. In the concluding words of Dr. Raja:

“The inspiration that India has been giving to the study of the various aspects of language is still continuing. Of late, the interest of Western scholars is spreading to the field of ‘meaning’, which has till now been neglected by the linguists as incapable of being handled scientifically. The discussion on the problem of meaning by the ancient Indian thinkers like Bhartruhari, Kumarila­bhatta and Anandavardhana show extraordinary linguistic accumen, and will be of much help in clarifying man, of the complicated issues that are baffling the contemporary linguists.”

This statement on ‘the problem of meaning’ has an added significance, coming as it does from the author of “Indian Theories of Meaning” forthat was the subject of Dr. Raja’s second doctoral thesis, the one he did forLondon University in the early ‘Fifties. The first one was on “The Contribution of Kerala to Sanskrit Literature”which he did earlier forMadras University. His association with the latter university has been long and fruitful, lasting nearly three decades. Not fornothing has he been following in the footsteps of his distinguished uncle, Dr. C. Kunhan Raja, an inter­national authority on Vedic literature.

The true worth of a scholar is best known to his peers in the field, not to VIPs flitting past the political stage. And tributes to his scholarship are best paid in the form of contributions to the sum of human knowledge, not in that of paeans of praise that smack of downright flattery. The K. K. Raja felicitation volume of ‘Brahma Vidya’, the Adyar Library Bulletin for 1980-81 is one of the best examples of this type. It is substantial in volume, wide in scope, varied in content, and authoritative in the quality of its information. A scholar of Dr. Raja’s deep erudition and genuine humility could not have asked foranything better.

The fifty-odd contributions from reputed scholars the world over, collected in this volume, represent a wide conspectus of contemporary Indian studies. They include articles of a high stan­dard on topics ranging from translating the Vedas to interpreting the Kavyas, from the semantic propositions of Bhartruhari to the sociological concepts of Manu. Discussions on the Rasa and Dhvanitheories, possibly the most fertile of their kind in literary aesthetics, are not excluded.

The problems of “structure” and “rhythm” in Sanskrit dramatic theory are discussed by Dr. V. K. Chari, illustrating it with reference to the drama Shakuntala. An ardent exponent of the Rasa theory he draws attention to the emphasis laid bythe Dhvani School on ‘rhythm’ as the chief regulating principle. Professor A. K. Warder, exploring the origins of the technical senses of the word Rasa from the culinary to the aesthetic and philosophical, concludes:

“For the ancient actors in India, Rasa, like many other key terms in the history of ideas, may have been creatively ambiguous, and given them a supporting principle throughout their performances as well as their single aim and fulfilment for each occasion.”

In his sidelights on the theory of Dhvani, Prof. K. Krishnamoorthy focusses attention on some of the unresolved problems, with particular reference to the comparative roles of the ‘Kavi’ and the ‘Sahridaya’. Taking a significant verse from DhvanyalokaProf. J. M. Menon poses the provocative question – whether there are universal criteria for aesthetic judgments. Not quite, perhaps. Even ethical judgments, for that matter. There is bound to be the problem of a cultural barrier–socio-cultural as well as linguistic. Otherwise, there is no reason why among an audience in Saudi Arabia, before whom a Shakespeare play was enacted, there was more sympathy for Othello than for Desdemona. But this barrier is not insurmountable. Else, Goethe would not have gone into such raptures over Kalidasa’s Shakuntala. As far as India is concerned, Sanskrit could be a major help for outsiders in crossing this barrier, even among Indians to cross the barrier is time, and get at the original sources ofthe cultural tradition.

If it is true that no man is an island (John Donne) it is equally true that no language that he speaks in the modern, civilised world is a sequestered pond; it is rather like a flowing stream, in which so many waters merge. It is often claimed bylinguistic patriots that their literary classics are sui generis, in the sense ofbeing so self-sufficient that they do not owe anything to any other. This uni-lingual, complacent, Swadeshi, purist theory is not quite borne out by the findings of research scholars drawing on the resources of comparative literature. Civakacintamaniprovides a case in point.

One of the Panchakavyas (five classics) of ancient Tamil literature, Civakacintamaniis a Jain work in its religious complexion not unrelated to Prakrit sources in its story content, nor uninfluenc­ed by Sanskrit Kavyas in terms of its literary form. An in-depth study of this work has been made by Dr. R. Vijayalakshmi, particularly from the point of view of the interaction of Sanskrit language and literature with Tamil, the volume is recently brought out by the L. D. Institute of Indology, Ahmedabad. Her research work in this connection was done under the guidance of Prof. T. Burrow at Oxford, where she was awarded the D. Phil. degree for her thesis.

The author seeks successfully to establish the fact that the Civakacintamanihas its literary roots, both in the native Tamil tradition going to the Cankamliterature, and in the Sanskrit Kavya tradition, with both of which she is equally familiar, and shows how these two strands have been harmoniously blended. It is dealt with, at length, in successive chapters, dealing with the influence of Sanskrit literary forms in a direct interaction; through Jainism; and at a linguistic level through Sanskrit loan-words. She also suggests the possibility of a lost Prakrit original, as evidenced by some of the proper names appearing in Prakrit form in the Tamil Kavya. A rewarding line of exploration this, which leads us to the conclusion that there was a lot of give-and-take in the cultural sphere, among the various regions, then as now.

It is difficult to think of a single Indian religious book, which has attracted the world’s attention as widely as the Bhagavadgita–­so much translated and commented upon–by a Galaxy of savants from Charles Wilkins to Sri Aurobindo and Aldous Huxley. But then, is it meant only for the man of God and not for the man of the world? Thinkers from Tilak, Besant and Gandhi to Rajaji and Radhakrishnan have answered the question in the negative, each in his or her own way.

Now, we come to a more specific and pointed question–What has Bhagavadgitato say for the executives of today? Like Arjuna on the field of battle (at Kurukshetra), they have their moments of decision in a life of constant tension. Can they look to it for guidance, as well as for consolation? This question is categorically answered by Mr. V. Ramanathan, himself an executive (retired from the Railways) in the form of an excellent, handbook “Bhagavadgita for Executives”, elegantly brought out by the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan.

After studying a good number of authoritative translations and commentaries, the author has selected 500-odd Slokas from the Gitafor his own translation in English verse. While it is not clear what is the metrical pattern chosen by him, the short four­-line stanzas with the alternate lines rhyming do read well. The words are simple and the meaning comes through quite effectively, as could be seen from two pieces, chosen at random:

For deeds alone you have a right
And never for the deeds’ reward,
On fruits of action set no sight
Nor inaction with love regard.

In Yoga firm thy work perform
And ever, attachment discard,
In siddhior its lack be calm,
Such equipoise is Yoga called.