Indian Poetics (Kāvya Śāstra) and Narratology Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative (Studies in Biblical Literature) [New ed.] 9781433132957, 9781453917671, 9781433136146, 9781433136153, 1433132958

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‘ Indian Poetics (Kavya Sastra) and Narratology

Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative

Originally from Kudamuck, situated in the town of Pathanamthitta on the southern part of Kerala, India, G. Ayyaneth is a licentiate in biblical theology from the University of Fribourg in Switzerland. He received a diploma in German language (ZOP) from the Goethe Institute in Germany and a doctorate in biblical theology from the University of Fribourg. He is currently the director of Bethany Vedavijnana Peeth (BVP), an extension center of Jnana Deepa Vidayapeeth ( JDV) or Pontifical Athenaeum in Pune, India, as well as a Catholic Religious Priest of Order of the Imitation of Christ (Bethany Ashram). Ayyaneth is also a columnist and writes articles in theological journals, along with poems and dramas in his mother tongue ‘Malayalam’.

165 Ayyaneth

Though the biblical and the Indian literary traditions had independent origin and growth in terms of spatial and cultural milieux, there are literary landscapes of confluence where the literary fabrics of their collective wisdom are interwoven. Both narrative traditions have rich oral and folk prehistoric traditions in their records and this attribute provides a substratum where their narrative patterns and paradigms can find a common ground. A Hebraic reading of the Bible does not exhaust the meaning of the biblical texts; on the other hand, an Indian reading of the Bible could bring more flesh and blood to the living text. Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra (Poetics) and its modern rendering narratology being multifarious and mutually integrative will be able to supply a variety of poetical tools and devices with which the great and vast miscellany of biblical narrative can be approached and appreciated. Indian religious tradition is more narrative/story rather than doctrinal or dogmatic. This demands an Indian reading of the Bible endowed with a narratological and synchronic approach to disentangle the biblical narrative from the burden of dogmas and doctrines and to re-launch its primordial narrative/story culture. The application of the canons of Indian Kāvya Śāstra with its narratological elucidations to the biblical narrative has categorically proved that it can open up a new horizon to an Indian reading of the Bible. Various such narrative approaches, heuristic devices and models thus evolved have been applied to selected narratives in the Davidic Episode of the Books of Samuel.

G . AYYANETH

Indian Poetics ’ (Kavya Sastra) and Narratology Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative

PETER LANG

www.peterlang.com

studies in biblical literature | 165

‘ Indian Poetics (Kavya Sastra) and Narratology

Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative

Originally from Kudamuck, situated in the town of Pathanamthitta on the southern part of Kerala, India, G. Ayyaneth is a licentiate in biblical theology from the University of Fribourg in Switzerland. He received a diploma in German language (ZOP) from the Goethe Institute in Germany and a doctorate in biblical theology from the University of Fribourg. He is currently the director of Bethany Vedavijnana Peeth (BVP), an extension center of Jnana Deepa Vidayapeeth ( JDV) or Pontifical Athenaeum in Pune, India, as well as a Catholic Religious Priest of Order of the Imitation of Christ (Bethany Ashram). Ayyaneth is also a columnist and writes articles in theological journals, along with poems and dramas in his mother tongue ‘Malayalam’.

165 Ayyaneth

Though the biblical and the Indian literary traditions had independent origin and growth in terms of spatial and cultural milieux, there are literary landscapes of confluence where the literary fabrics of their collective wisdom are interwoven. Both narrative traditions have rich oral and folk prehistoric traditions in their records and this attribute provides a substratum where their narrative patterns and paradigms can find a common ground. A Hebraic reading of the Bible does not exhaust the meaning of the biblical texts; on the other hand, an Indian reading of the Bible could bring more flesh and blood to the living text. Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra (Poetics) and its modern rendering narratology being multifarious and mutually integrative will be able to supply a variety of poetical tools and devices with which the great and vast miscellany of biblical narrative can be approached and appreciated. Indian religious tradition is more narrative/story rather than doctrinal or dogmatic. This demands an Indian reading of the Bible endowed with a narratological and synchronic approach to disentangle the biblical narrative from the burden of dogmas and doctrines and to re-launch its primordial narrative/story culture. The application of the canons of Indian Kāvya Śāstra with its narratological elucidations to the biblical narrative has categorically proved that it can open up a new horizon to an Indian reading of the Bible. Various such narrative approaches, heuristic devices and models thus evolved have been applied to selected narratives in the Davidic Episode of the Books of Samuel.

G . AYYANETH

Indian Poetics ’ (Kavya Sastra) and Narratology Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative

PETER LANG

www.peterlang.com

studies in biblical literature | 165

Advance Praise for Indian Poetics (Kāvya Śāstra)

and Narratology Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative

“I really found G. Ayyaneth’s insights helpful and very full of interesting suggestions for further reflection. It fits closely with my background in literary criticism and theory, and does in fact seem to open up interesting new vistas, not only for Indians but for all of us in reading the Bible. One of the most stimulating and original things I have found in quite a while.” David Fleming, S.M., University of Dayton, Ohio, USA “Whoever has seen films produced in India will know that the narration is sometimes interrupted by dancing and singing. This phenomenon resembles the way the Books of Samuel are interwoven with poems or songs such as the song of Hannah or the last words of David. Western narratology is heavily influenced by Aristotle’s Poetics. However there were stories being told before the lifetime of this Greek philosopher and outside his European culture. G. Ayyaneth presents the rich Indian literary theory and shows convincingly that it offers an interpretative key for the juxtaposition of storytelling and singing in the Hebrew Bible.” Hans Ulrich Steymans, O.P., Professor (OT) and Dean of the Faculty of Theology, University of Fribourg, Switzerland

Indian Poetics (Kāvya Śāstra) and Narratology Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative

Studies in Biblical Literature

Hemchand Gossai

General Editor Vol. 165

This book is a volume in a Peter Lang monograph series. Every title is peer reviewed and meets the highest quality standards for content and production.

PETER LANG

New York  Bern  Frankfurt  Berlin Brussels  Vienna  Oxford  Warsaw

G. Ayyaneth

Indian Poetics (Kāvya Śāstra) and Narratology Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative

PETER LANG

New York  Bern  Frankfurt  Berlin Brussels  Vienna  Oxford  Warsaw

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Bijimon, Ayyanethu Malayil Jose, author. Title: Indian poetics (Kāvya Śāstra) and narratology towards the appreciation of biblical narrative / G. Ayyaneth. Description: New York: Peter Lang, [2016] Series: Studies in biblical literature; vol. 165 | ISSN 1089-0645 Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2015038808 | ISBN 978-1-4331-3295-7 (hardcover: alk. paper) ISBN 978-1-4539-1767-1 (ebook pdf) | ISBN 978-1-4331-3614-6 (epub) ISBN 978-1-4331-3615-3 (mobi) Subjects: LCSH: Bible—Criticism, interpretation, etc.—India. Bible—Criticism, Narrative. | Narration in the Bible. | Poetics. Classification: LCC BS511.3.B623 2016 | DDC 220.6/6—dc23 LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015038808 Bibliographic information published by Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek. Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the “Deutsche Nationalbibliografie”; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de/.

This book is the revised Ph.D. thesis of Ayyanethu Malayil Jose Bijimon (Fr. George Ayyaneth OIC) alias G. Ayyaneth, titled “BIBLICAL NARRATIVE (OT) FROM THE VANTAGE POINT OF ANCIENT INDIAN KĀVYA ŚĀSTRA [A Literary Investigation into the Extent of the Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra (Poetics) in the Appreciation of the Biblical Narrative (OT) with Special Reference to the Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel]”, guided by Prof. Dr. Philippe Lefebvre O.P., submitted at the Faculty of Theology, Department of Biblical Studies, University of Fribourg, Switzerland on 1 May 2013 and defended on 19 September 2013. Chapter Two of the thesis had a thorough editing to exclude the extensive details on Indian literary tradition and to include a study on the historical setting of narratology from author’s own licentiate thesis. Publishing of this book is in accordance with the guidelines of the University of Fribourg to meet the requirements of the doctoral studies.

© 2016 Peter Lang Publishing, Inc., New York 29 Broadway, 18th floor, New York, NY 10006 www.peterlang.com All rights reserved. Reprint or reproduction, even partially, in all forms such as microfilm, xerography, microfiche, microcard, and offset strictly prohibited.

To Bethany Ashram (Order of the Imitation of Christ) & Oeuvre St-Justin (Fribourg, Switzerland)

T able of Contents

List of Figures xv Series Editor’s Preface xvii Foreword by Prof. Dr. Philippe Lefebvre O. P. xix Acknowledgmentsxxvii List of Abbreviations and Acronyms xxix Introduction1 General Purport and Prospects of This Study 1 Guiding Mode and Motif 2 Some Notional Explication 3 Narrative4 Kāvya Śāstra 4 Appreciation5 Thematic Texture 5 Part One. Biblical Narrative and Indian Kāvya Śāstra Chapter One. The Point of Departure for an Indian Approach to Biblical Narrative Biblical Narrative in the Realm of Literary Appreciation Bible as Literature

11 12 12

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Narrative Integrity of the Biblical Literature 12 Narrative Integrity as a Result of Divine-Human Creativity 13 Literary Appreciation of Biblical Narrative—A Method of Approach 14 Biblical Exegesis and the Indian Dilemma Thereof 15 Panoramic View of the Exegetical Methods and Approaches 15 The Indian Dilemma in Biblical Exegesis 17 Main Trends in an Indian Reading of the Bible 18 Classical Criticism—Literary Reading of the Bible 19 Philosophic20 Semiotic and Semantic 20 Aesthetic20 Contextual Approach—Social Reading of the Bible 21 Indian Context 22 Contextualised Exegesis 22 Comparative Approach—Religious Reading of the Bible 23 Indian Weltanschauung Towards an Indian Approach to Biblical Narrative 24 Narrative (Story) Weltanschauung 24 Mythical (Non-Rational) Weltanschauung 26 Cosmocentric (Non-Anthropocentric) Weltanschauung 27 Holistic (All-Inclusive) Weltanschauung 28 Dhárma (Cosmic Rythmus) Weltanschauung 29 Darśan (Seeing) Weltanschauung 31 Chapter Two. Locating Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra and Modern Western Narratology 33 Locating Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra 33 The Classical Age of Indian Kāvya Śāstra 33 The Masterminds of Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra 35 The Compilers or the Commentators of Kāvya Śāstra 36 Locating Modern Western Narratology 37 The Historical Evolution of Narratology as an Academic Discipline 37 A Retrospection to Plato and Aristotle—Offset of Narrative Reflection 38 Semiology by Ferdinand de Saussure—Offspring of All Narrative Theoretical Investigations of the 20th Century 38 Russian Formalism—Latent Potential of Narratology 39 French Structuralism of the 1960s and 1970s—Forerunner of Narratology 39 Structuralist (Classical) Narratology 39 Poststructuralist (Postclassical) Narratology 40 The Proprium of Narrative 41

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The Possible Objectives of Narratology 42 Study of Narrative in View of the Appreciation of the Literary Genre 42 Study of Narrative in the Investigation of Meaning 43 Study of Narrative in the Realm of Religious Experience 43 The Study of Narrative as an Initiation and an Impulse in Learning the Art of Language 44 The Study of Narrative for Theologising in Indian Context 45 Narratology on the Threshold of New Horizons 45 Locating Biblical Narrative in the Realm of Poetics 47 Storytelling: The Science of Salvation (Moks. a)47 Poetics Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative 49 Ancient Hindu and Hebrew Literary Traditions—The Oriental Offshoots 50 Chapter Three. The Proposed Models Proper to an Indian Literary Appreciation52 The Four-S Model in the Making of a Poetics of Cohesiveness 53 Śruti (The Heard or The Revealed) 55 Sūtra (Aphoristic) 56 Smr·ti (The Remembered) 57 Śāstra (Scientific Treatise) 58 The Basic Models of the Indian Narrative Paradigm 60 The Vedic Model—Cryptic 61 The Purān·ic Model—Mythic 62 The Itihāsic Model—Epic 65 The Main Distinctive Features of Indian Narratology 66 Interiorisation66 Serialisation68 Stylisation and Improvisation 69 Elasticisation of Time 69 Fantasisation70 Cyclicalisation70 Allegorisation71 Anonymisation71 Spatialisation71 Three Classical Theories of Kāvya Śāstra 72 Rasa (Aesthetic Relish): Reader-Response 72 Rasa-Initiation in Unfolding Various Bhāvas 74 Bhāva (Mental State) 75 Sthāyibhāvas (Permanent States) 75 Vyabhicāribhāvas or Sancāribhāvas (Transitory States) 76 Sāttvikabhāvas (Physical Effects Resulting from an Emotion) 76

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Vibhāva (Stimuli) 77 Anubhāva (Response) 77 Rasa-Evocation in Merging Various Bhāvas 77 Rasa-Realisation in the Appreciator (Sahr·daya) of a Kāvya79 The Categorisation of Rasa 80 Dhvani (Suggestion): Text-Oriented 81 The Basic Sources of the Theory of Dhvani 81 Three Types of Dhvani in Relation to Kāvya 83 The Five Dimensions of Dhvani 83 The Three-Fold Division of Meaning in Dhvani 84 The Poetical Purport of Dhvani 86 Alan˙kāra (Embellishment): Rhetoric and Structural 87 The Classification of Alan˙kāra 87 The Nature and Purpose of Alan˙kāra 88 Alan˙kāra and Alan˙kārya 89 The Trinity of Alan˙kāras: Svabhāvokti (Natural-Speech)—Vakrokti (Roundabout-Speech)—Atiśayokti (Exaggerated-Speech) 90 Part Two. An Appreciation of the Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel from the Vantage Point of Kāvya Śāstra Introduction to Part Two

93

Chapter Four. The Compositional Coherence of the Books of Samuel on the Framework of the Four-S Model 95 Śruti (The Heard or The Revealed) 96 The Indian Point of Reference: Krauñcha Episode in the Rāmāyan·a96 The Biblical Point of Reference: Hannah’s Temple-Experience (1 Sam 1) 97 Sūtra (Aphoristic) 99 The Indian Point of Reference: Brahma Sūtras 100 The Biblical Point of Reference: Temple Narrative (1 Sam 1–3) and Ark Narrative (1 Sam 4–7) 101 Smr·ti (The Remembered) 103 The Indian Point of Reference: The Bhagavad Gītā in Relation to the Mahābhārata 103 The Biblical Point of Reference: The Canticle of Hannah 104 Śāstra (Scientific Treatise) 107 The Indian Point of Reference: Dhármaśāstra (धर्मशास्त्र)107 The Biblical Point of Reference: Rāja-dhárma and Saul’s Transgression (1 Sam 15) 111

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Chapter Five. The Basic Models of the Indian Narrative Paradigm towards the Appreciation of the Davidic Episode 115 Vedic (Cryptic) 116 The Indian Point of Reference: Indra-Hymns in the Ṛgvéda116 The Biblical Point of Reference: The Song of Thanksgiving by David in 2 Samuel 22 119 Interiorise Certain Kinds of Narratives which Can Be Elaborated into Stories or Episodes 121 Establish Resonances between the Natural and the Supernatural or the Divine and the Human 123 Affinity with Ancient Imageries and Allegories 123 Versified Narration Imbued with the Power of Vāk 124 Invitation to Discover Thematic Associations 125 Purān·ic (Mythic) 126 The Indian Point of Reference: Mārkan·d· eyapurān·a126 The Biblical Point of Reference: The Ark Narrative: 1 Sam 4–7:1 130 The Overarching of the Ark Narrative 131 The Role-Shift of the Ark Brought into the Mythical Framework 132 The Pitting of Evil against Evil in the Supra-National Level 134 The Chain Narrative and Recursiveness 135 Itihāsic (Epic) 137 The Indian Point of Reference: Mahābhārata—The Making of an Itihāsic 137 The Biblical Point of Reference: The Davidic Story as Davidic Itihāsic 142 Whether Succession Narrative or Davidic Itihāsic? 143 Multiple Embedding in the Davidic Itihāsic 145 Multiple Embedding at the Level of Main Plot 145 Multiple Embedding at the Level of Individual Episode 149 Family Saga to Nationhood 150 Gītāic Genre in the Davidic Episode 156 Chapter Six. The Main Features of Indian Narratology towards the Appreciation of the Davidic Episode 166 Interiorisation and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Sam 21–24 167 The Basic Narrative Structure of 2 Sam 21–24 167 The Conventional Perception of 2 Samuel 21–24 168 An Outlook of 2 Sam 21–24 Based on Interiorisation 169 The Interiorisation of the Messianic Role of David towards Sin and Salvation 171 Serialisation and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Sam 21–24 172 Stylisation and Improvisation and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Sam 21–24 175

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Elasticisation of Time and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Samuel 21–24 177 Fantasisation in David’s Song of Thanksgiving (2 Sam 22:7–19) 179 Fantasy and Reality 181 Transcendental Motif of Fantasisation 181 The Ambiance of Natural and Supernatural 182 The Legitimisation of David’s Exploits 183 A Narrative Break 183 Cyclicalisation and Re-Cycling of Literary Artifacts in the Davidic Episode 184 Re-Cycling of Story: The Death of Saul (1 Sam 31 § 2 Sam 1); Saul’s First Encounter with David (1 Sam 16 § 17) 185 Re-Cycling of Literary Patterns: Saul Pursuing David (1 Sam 24 § 1 Sam 26) 186 Re-Cycling of Myths, Proverbs, Etc.: “Is Saul Also among the Prophets?” (1 Sam 10 § 1 Sam 19) 187 Allegorisation in Various Narrative Contexts of the Davidic Episode 188 Allegorisation in Order to Impart Moral Precepts and Practices: The Story about a Rich Man and a Lamb by Nathan (2 Sam 12:1–14) 188 Allegorisation in Order to Change the Course of Affairs: The Story of the Woman of Tekoa (2 Sam 14:1–24) 190 Allegorisation in Order to Describe the Virtual Realities: Allegorical Expressions in David’s Song of Thanksgiving (2 Sam 22) 190 Allegorisation in Order to Evoke Narrative Retrospection: Saul Spares the Amalekite King Agag against the Will of the Lord (1 Sam 15) and the Story of Saul’s Death by an Amalekite (2 Sam 1) 191 Suggestive Allegorisation in Order to Lay Out the Confluence of Paradoxes 192 Anonymisation and the Apaurus·eya Nature of the Davidic Episode 195 To Facilitate the Narrative Interventions and Interactions of the Omniscient Narrator—Interprets the Past, Describes the Present and Foresees the Future 196 To Consolidate the Disparate Sources, Collective or Individual— Anonymous Narrative Sources and Anonymous Author 197 To Merge the Subjective Self of the Narrator in the Collective Readership—No Author Is Just an Individual and Language Is an Instrument of Collective Expression 198 To Attribute Impersonal, Universal and Collective Nature to Narrative— A Work of Art Transcends the Temporal and Spatial Limitations 199 To Leave Room for Internalised Characters to Be Authors—The Transposition of Characters and Authors/Narrators 199

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To Facilitate the Organic Growth of the Urtext—The Text Grows in Its Full Dimension through Various Spatio-Temporal Contexts in the Hands of Commentators (Vyakhyata Vetti or Jañti)200 Spatialisation and the Spatial Precedence in the Davidic Episode 201 Mutuality of Space and Time 203 Polycentric Perception of Space 204 Cosmocentric and Anthropocentric Spatial Perceptions 205 Chapter Seven. Three Classical Theories of Kāvya Śāstra towards the Appreciation of the Davidic Episode 207 Rasa (Aesthetic Relish) Appreciation of the Davidic Episode Based on the Purus·ārthas208 The Rasa Dialectic of Kāma: Hannah (1 Sam 1) and David (2 Sam 11) 210 The Rasa Dialectic of Artha: Eli’s Sons (1 Sam 2:11–36) and Samuel (2 Sam 2:11–36; 12:1–5) 215 The Rasa Dialectic of Dhárma: Saul and David (1 Sam 24) 219 The Rasa Dialectic of Moks· a: Various Bhāvas and Related Characters 223 Hannah towards the Lord (1 Sam 2:1–10)—Bhakti Bhāva (Devotion) 224 Samuel towards His Life and Mission (1 Sam 12)— Vairāgya (Disgust) 226 Jonathan towards David (1 Sam 18:1–4; 20; 2 Sam 1:18–27)— Mitra (Philia) 227 Rizpa towards Her Impaled Sons (2 Sam 21:8–14)—Vatsa (Pathos) 228 Dhvani (Suggestion) Appreciation of the Plot of ‘David and Goliath’ 230 An Appraisal of the Prevailing Reading of the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ (1 Sam 17) 231 Vastu-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ 233 · Alankāra-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ 236 Rasa-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ 238 · Alankāra (Embellishment) Appreciation of the Davidic Episode on the Trinity of Alan·kāras: Svabhāvokti (Natural-Speech), Vakrokti (Roundabout-Speech) and Atiśayokti (Exaggerated-Speech) 241 Conclusion249 Glossary of Sanskrit Words 259 Notes267 Bibliography279 Index289 Biblical Index 295 Author Index 297

Figures

Figure 1 Main Methods of Biblical Exegesis 15 Figure 2 Main Approaches of Biblical Exegesis 15 Figure 3 Methods Employed by Historical Criticism 16 Figure 4 Main Concerns of Canonical Criticism 16 Figure 5 Main Concerns of Rhetorical Criticism 16 Figure 6 Main Concerns of Narrative Criticism 16 Figure 7 Main Trends in an Indian Reading of the Bible 19 Figure 8 Indian Weltanschauung 25 Figure 9 Masterminds of Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra 36 Figure 10 The Compilers or the Commentators of Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra 37 Figure 11 Modern Narratology—Critical Reassessment and Proposals 46 Figure 12 The Four-S Model 54 Figure 13 The Basic Models of the Indian Narrative Paradigm 61 Figure 14 The Main Distinctive Features of Indian Narratology 67 Figure 15 Three Classical Theories of Kāvya Śāstra 73 Figure 16 Rasa as the Combination of Bhāvas74 Figure 17 The Components of Bhāvas75 Figure 18 Two Aspects of Vibhāva 77 Figure 19 The Three-fold Division of Meaning in Dhvani 84

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Figure 20 The Classification of Alan˙kāra88 Figure 21 The Canticle of Hannah—Setting the Plot for Smr· ti105 Figure 22 Temple Narrative and Ark Narrative 106 Figure 23 Interiorisation in David’s Song of Thanksgiving 122 Figure 24 Historical and Purān· ic Settings of the Ark Narrative 132 Figure 25 The Role-Shift of the Ark in the Mythical Framework 133 Figure 26 Chain Narrative and Recursiveness in the Ark Narrative 136 Figure 27 Multiple Embedding at the Level of Main Plot 146 Figure 28 Multiple Embedding at the Level of Individual Episode 149 Figure 29 A Comparative Outlook of Covenant/Dhárma-Motif 152 Figure 30 The Progression of Covenant/Dhárma-Motif in 2 Sam 1–7 153 Figure 31 Gītāic Genre in the Davidic Episode 157 Figure 32 Gītāic Allusion in the Davidic Episode 158 Figure 33 David’s Prayer in the Setting of the Gītāic Genre 163 Figure 34 Interiorised Theme of 2 Sam 21–24 170 Figure 35 Fantasisation in David’s Song of Thanksgiving 180 Figure 36 Re-Cycling of Stories in Jātaka Tales 184 Figure 37 Re-Cycling of Stories in Davidic Episode 186 Figure 38 Re-Cycling of Literary Patterns in Davidic Episode 187 Figure 39 Re-Cycling of Myths, Proverbs, etc. in Davidic Episode 187 Figure 40 Allegorisation in Order to Impart Moral Precepts and Practices 189 Figure 41 Allegorisation in Order to Describe Virtual Realities 190 Figure 42 Allegorisation in Order to Evoke Narrative Retrospection 192 Figure 43 Suggestive Allegorisation and the Confluence of Paradoxes 194 Figure 44 Spatial Precedence in the Books of Samuel 202 Figure 45 Rasa Dialectic of Kāma in the Bathsheba-Episode 213 Figure 46 Rasa Dialectic of Artha in the Story of Eli’s Sons and Boy Samuel 218 Figure 47 Rasa Dialectic of Moks·a in the Books of Samuel 224 Figure 48 Śānta Rasa Attained through Various Bhāvas in the Books of Samuel 225 Figure 49 Vastu-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ 234 Figure 50 Unfolding of the Plot of ‘David and Goliath’ through Vastu-Dhvani236 Figure 51 Rasa-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ 240 Figure 52 Conflation of Svabhāvokti with Other Alan˙kāras246 Figure 53 A Collection of Alan˙kāra in the Form of Vakrokti and Atiśayokti 247

Series Editor’s Preface

More than ever the horizons in biblical literature are being expanded beyond that which is immediately imagined; important new methodological, theological, and hermeneutical directions are being explored, often resulting in significant contributions to the world of biblical scholarship. It is an exciting time for the academy as engagement in biblical studies continues to be heightened. This series seeks to make available to scholars and institutions, scholarship of a high order, and which will make a significant contribution to the ongoing biblical discourse. This series includes established and innovative directions, covering general and particular areas in biblical study. For every volume considered for this series, we explore the question as to whether the study will push the horizons of biblical scholarship. The answer must be yes for inclusion. In this volume, G. Ayyaneth explores Indian Poetics with particular reference to the Davidic pericopes in the Books of Samuel. The author argues that the biblical narrative can be read and interpreted through the lenses of Indian poetics. Given the ancient shared traditions of the Biblical material and Indian narrative traditions, the connections appear to have a natural interpretive platform. Even though the particular study focuses on specific Indian Poetic texts, the larger issue developed here expands the spectrum of the many lenses through which the biblical material might be read and interpreted. Moreover, the emphasis here is on the narrative itself in both bodies of literature. The study reminds us that the

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biblical narrative and its interpretation is not restricted to one method, and narrow ownership for its meaning and application. Indeed the richness of multiple lenses serves as a reminder that the hermeneutical possibilities are practically inexhaustible. This study will assuredly add to the rich texture of these narratives, and it is certain to generate ongoing discourse, and will not only further expand the biblical horizon, but will do so in a direction that invites further conversation. The horizon has been expanded. Hemchand Gossai Series Editor

Foreword

On the Threshold of a Thesis In 2008, George Ayyaneth (GA) presented, at our faculty, a dissertation for the licentiate in Theology entitled, An Appraisal of the Western and Indian Narratological Approaches in View of Its Application on the Old Testament Narratives, with Special Reference to Mike Bal and K. Ayyapa Paniker. This was but the first step to a work of far greater depth which led to his thesis, presented at our faculty in 2013: “BIBLICAL NARRATIVE (OT) FROM THE VANTAGE POINT OF ANCIENT INDIAN KĀVYA ŚĀSTRA, A Literary Investigation into the Extent of the Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra (Poetics) in the Appreciation of the Biblical Narrative (OT) with Special Reference to the Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel.” If some students of the doctorate bring their research work to an end with the completion of their thesis, others—and GA is certainly one of these—open themselves to a whole life of research work: they have found their way. They still have a lot more to say; they will be of immense help to other students. GA’s setting himself the task of studying biblical texts in the light of the Scriptures of ancient India struck me as extremely interesting.

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Inspiration for an Indian Approach to the Bible It would not be out of place to say a word about GA’s interest in this kind of subject. He belongs to a Congregation founded by Bishop Mar Ivanios (1882– 1953), who had been a professor at the University of Calcutta. He was inspired to start a religious community that would blend the Oriental Christian tradition with traditions of Hindu religiosity. This community (the Congregation of the Imitation of Christ) is commonly called “Bethany Ashram” in India. GA has produced a work in keeping with the spirit of his congregation: to aim at a meeting point between Christianity and the Indian tradition, a tradition which has expressed itself through the work of a series of remarkable personalities and noble initiatives.

Setting of the Subject In his introduction, GA explains at length the basic question of his project, which may sound surprising to some of us: how to understand the biblical text in the light of Indian narrative tradition. Their two worlds, notes our author, “are characterized by stories and storytelling.” The biblical world, as well as that of India, is situated in a traditional society where words and writing are rooted in the cultural past. GA develops this point in Chapter 2 of the 1st part. Here he evokes first the notion of salvation as history and then puts the biblical account of a story of liberation alongside the Indian presentation of the notion of mokṣa. Thus, we come to an outline of a “science of salvation and of liberation.” But the questions that lie at the root of all others include the following: how does one appropriate the Bible for oneself, if one is Indian and Christian? Is there an Indian way of reading the Scriptures? Here arises the problem of the “borrowed models” (an expression figuring in a volume of George Soares-Prabhu, one of those who inspired GA). Is it necessary to first integrate for oneself one of the Western models of reading in order to enter into an understanding of biblical texts and their problems? That could become a cliché, but, in fact, the question arises very specially within an ancient culture that lives out of the recalling of its revered texts and has developed over the millennia a profound reflection on how a text can be. It might be worth one’s while to let the members of such a culture appropriate the biblical text, leaving aside all discussion about methods, scientific or historical presuppositions, etc.

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“Appreciation” over “Criticism” The term “appreciation” also occurs in French: it evokes the taste one experiences when one samples something (one “appreciates,” for instance, good poetry); it connotes esteem (one “appreciates” someone); it also designates a sizing-up, as it were, by the intellect (one “appreciates” a distance or the impact a text can have on its readers). It comes, etymologically, from price: to “appreciate” is to recognize the price of something. All this is implied by GA in his approach: “in contrast to ‘literary criticism’ which provides theories of interpretation, ‘literary appreciation’ provides tools and devices to approach and to savour the flavour of biblical narrative.” “Therefore, this study prefers the term ‘appreciation’ (rasāsvāda) to literary analysis or literary criticism or interpretation. Although it is an arbitrary choice, it has got the backing of Indian tradition and according to which kāvya or sāhitya rasāsvāda (= literary appreciation) is savouring a work of literary art.” There is, therefore, a certain gentleness in the method of GA, which expresses itself, however, with firmness. There is a particular way of reading a text: we should not approach it with the goal of immediately exposing to the light the various threads that lay bare the amalgam or variety of sources that reveal its composite character. Rather, we should first look for the “coherence and unity,” the “narrative coherence,” the expression of one “life formed of various tissues that make up a coherent whole.”

Story of the Study In fact, my guidance of this thesis, which was done in a very regular manner, didn’t seem to me very directive. I felt I was more a witness of the meditative discoveries made by GA—the stories of the Books of Samuel in the light of Indian “appreciation”—and experienced certain shocks and perplexities when he read me some of his well-argued conclusions. For instance, take the canticle of Anna (I Sam 2:1–10), which reputed critics tend to see as a later insertion: a poetic passage placed in the midst of a narration, which seems to have no real link with the preceding. However, GA seemed to be just waiting for it, right after I Sam 1. After all the foregoing details of this chapter (the sterile Anna, ridiculed by her rival Pennina, humiliated by the priest, makes a vow to the Lord …), indeed a moment of song was called for! If one were to make of this story a Bollywood film, GA tells me—and such films are inspired by a style of composition that comes from traditional literature—everyone would have expected something to be sung after such events. And all this, not just to defend the point of view of the spectator or

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audience, but also to re-present, in the course of the song, the preceding situation, as it were, on the following day (whence comes the “Western” impression that the song is not truly rooted in the events one has just spoken of ). There must be, GA tells me, a cosmic dimension to these happenings: a human story lived with God should indicate this cosmic aspect and Anna’s canticle does that. Anna invokes the God who made and governs the world (I Sam 2:8): she understands her personal experience as written against the background of a world created by God. And she must present this event as going beyond the limits of her own personal experience: whereby the unexpected announcement of the Messiah King is made to an age or a people not yet spoken of (I Sam 2:10). This is but a sample of the results of GA’s study.

Not a “Distorted Glimpse” Indeed, I would prefer that my report be made up of these reactions which seem to me to be more telling than the formal exposition of GA’s written text. I listened to his surprise that we see this passage as an interruption of the narration, an insertion, a secondary thing. On the contrary, he saw it as an articulation full of meaning, of statements that we could expect to hear, well versed as he was in his formation, according to the literary tradition of India. I felt that his approach was quite valid and such an alternative view should be allowed. Thus, one avoids the charge of what Dariush Shayegan calls the “distorted glimpse.” It is not a matter of renouncing the approaches of our Western universities, who have proven their worth as regards crucial issues of the historicity of events, the discovery of sources, etc. Rather it is a matter of accepting that these other (Eastern) methods also co-exist with ours, granting their own sophistication, too, and that they can also demonstrate their worth. University scholars are text specialists, granted; but we should not forget that “those who deliberated deeply up on scriptures were sages, seers, saints, hermits, poets and narrators imbued with a variety of arts of expression.”

The Strangeness of Ancient Texts At this point, I would like to stress an idea which is engrained in this work. It is perhaps best expressed by an author who has inspired GA, whom he mentions in his bibliography, without citing her explicitly in the body of his text: Mae Smethurst: The Artistry of Aeschylus and Zeami—A Comparative Study of Greek Tragedy and Nō, 1989. In France, William Marx, Professor of Literature at Lyons,

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takes up and further develops this idea in a recent book. The biblical text, like all ancient texts, he reminds us, escapes us perhaps more than we think. Greek Tragedy, for example, filtered by a scholarly tradition, extremely partial in nature (we possess barely 5% of ancient Greek tragedies), tributary of mighty modern worldviews (those of Nietzsche, for example), is, in the end, a reality which we hardly know, whose real impact on ancient audiences we can scarce perceive, since we are, to a great extent, ignorant of their understanding of nature: can we really grasp what a tragedy said (or did) to an Athenian audience? Perhaps we should look into another culture, one at the same time close enough to ours while still exotic—like the Japanese Noh (Nō) theatre—to make us become aware of the strangeness of tragedy and the impact it had which we can hardly imagine. In the same way, shouldn’t the contribution of readers, formed by the culture of Indian texts, enable us to hear the biblical texts in their forgotten uniqueness, to grasp them in their unknown architecture?

Agreeable to the Reader The book comprises of a number of tables and sketches to embellish the text. The layout is clear and sub-titles regularly mark off themes. The Sanskrit passages are transliterated and accompanied by a translation. One gets the impression of a writer eager to produce a work that would be pleasing and agreeable to the reader. Authors are judiciously cited throughout the work and one sees that the quotations from specialists in Sanskrit literature as well as of scholars of biblical literature, are meant to be read, as they are placed, side by side, though they belong to different cultural contexts The division of the work is one-third for the first part and two-thirds for the second part, which is a reading of I and II Samuel, using the means and tools described in the first part. The entire text is well balanced, with the Bible (Samuel I and II) in the centre—this is truly a thesis on the Old Testament. GA has well moderated his wealth of knowledge of Sanskrit poetry and literature so as to give primacy of place to the reading of the biblical text.

Models of Interpretation GA uses different ancient narrative models, some of which have been taken up and developed right down to our times, in order to try and draw together all ways in which sacred texts have been studied, carefully noting the specific purpose of each. This work of categorization does occupy a rather lengthy portion of the thesis,

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but it serves to better define the concepts harvested from them and render their employment more understandable. He shows that there is no simplistic debate between an Occidental well-ordered and rational approach and a vague, amorphous Oriental one. The sophistication of all these models and the richness of the different elements that make them up are quite striking. GA puts in the first place the “four models in Sanskrit”: (1) Śruti: the act of hearing, the resonance of the primordial Word (Vac in Sanskrit = Logos), which is experienced in the life, in the flesh of a person or a community; (2) Sūtra: the word literally means a ‘thread’. This term denotes brief phrases or aphorisms which serve the function of linking together different aspects of the same narration; (3) Smr. ti: the word is linked to memory: it indicates the aspect of memorization, of the recalling of the past; it is the word in the present that brings to mind a prophecy spoken/heard in the past; (4) Śāstra: this word means ‘knowledge’; it denotes the result of an experience, the divinely gifted faculty of discernment. The four models are in interaction within a text and this interaction helps us to understand passages, as we pass from one aspect to the other, while studying the given text. There are other models, particularly the models from the basic Indian narrative paradigms: the Vedic (the cryptic, which must be decoded within the text itself ), the Puranic (which embodies mythic writings) and the Itihasic (which enshrines the great epics).

An Example: I Sam 1 These and other models GA applies to the text of I and II Samuel. Indeed, it is in this action that one truly grasps the relevance of these categories and the insights they convey. I will give only one example: illustrated by Śruti, the resonance of the primordial Word. Here, as elsewhere, GA gives an instance from Indian literature—referring to a text at the beginning of the Ramayana where the supposed author, Vālmīki, witnesses the death of one member of a pair of birds, killed by a hunter. His lament over the death of this bird moves him to place a curse on the aggressive hunter and the verses he pronounces drive him on to create the long poem which follows: an appeal to respect life, an expression of anger against murderous injustice. GA establishes a comparison with the beginning of the books of Samuel: the tears of Anna, who is sterile and mocked at, constitute the primordial word of the book which is going to reflect and high-light the different aspects of the story (here we have Śruti and Sūtra coming in). These tears call for a response from God who speaks in the person of an improbable son, Samuel. Inasmuch as he is a prophet, Samuel will incarnate the “Logos.” GA’s remarks at this point become particularly interesting: they are far from traditional biblical commentaries that

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tend to dismiss this event as a kind of “inaugural parenthesis.” From a theological point of view, one hears, without forcing too much the thesis of GA, that the Word can become flesh in the person of a son who comes as the response of God to the humiliation of his handmaid.

A “Noble Reading” And so we follow the readings of GA. Using the terms of his models, he shows the range of I and II Samuel, from which he chooses, each time, a passage that seems to illustrate one of the above-mentioned categories. When we come to the end, we discover that we have made a rather complete reading of these two books of Samuel, one text being able to be read in the light of the other. The impression I carry away from all this is a kind of reading that I would call a “noble reading”. In I Samuel 1, we hear a voice, Anna’s, which grows in size and to whom God replies in the person of Samuel. The place of the temple and the body of Anna have a certain correspondence: her womb is closed (I Samuel 1:5–6); later her son, Samuel, is kept in the temple of Silo whose doors he opens every morning. The texts echo each other in a very simple manner. Hearing the voice of GA, I hear the voice of a sage who speaks of a text with respect as much as with seriousness. One must admit that this changes biblical commentary, understood as deconstruction, to understanding it as the product of an epoch which is completely self-explanatory.

Some Critical Observations A great effort has gone into this study from the perspective of Sanskrit. It should be followed up by a similar effort from the perspective of Hebrew (and of Greek, eventually). Obviously one cannot do everything, but reference to the textual source of the Old Testament would have been helpful here. One also wonders whether this way of approaching texts makes it possible for one to say just about anything. The word, “holistic,” comes up several times in this thesis, notably in the introduction. Indian culture, it is claimed, has a “holistic” understanding of reality and of texts. Do not these models sometimes stretch the point so much that one ends up finding a bit too much in each text? After having read this text and heard GA, I would say no. The reading proposed by GA enables one to take into account the realities of the text which one does not notice when it is considered a “surplus.” I have spoken above about the so-called cosmic dimension of some passages which are traditionally interpreted as signs of “something

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extra” in the text: this dimension is rendered “readable” and “integrated” by the approach of GA. But I would like him to explain himself a bit more on this point. One sometimes gets a feeling of “atomization”: we study a particular text to illustrate a particular Indian category. Could not one explore a text by seeing many categories and many approaches in interaction? Perhaps one could also be more “theological.” GA notes that he is doing a literary work, but several times one notices that even the concepts he uses have a dimension that goes beyond this level—supposing that a particular instrument is so simple that it is unable to transcend itself to take in every aspect of the world. Śruti ensnares the primordial word and follows it throughout the text. I have, myself, in my remarks on GA’s commentary on Samuel 1, spoken of the Word made Flesh. I merely stressed that GA had already said that, but less explicitly so. In what way, then, can GA’s reading be called theological? How does he integrate this theological dimension into his act of reading, not as an “extra,” which believers would attribute to it, but as a dimension quite detectable as part of its very substance? In conclusion, let me say that with this study of GA’s we have a work that is innovative and original. GA has taken some risks in embarking on such a study and such a reading of the Bible. These risks have been worthwhile. The biblical text is all the clearer for it. This research work of GA is therefore a rather hardy enterprise whereby everyone has something to learn: a voice worth listening to begins to speak to us through this work, offering us an Indian reading of the Bible. But it is also a certain way of studying the text which we, in our Western countries, should pay attention to. For this Indian voice is not straightaway eager to be “critical” but shows us another profound way into the text that is enriching. Prof. Dr. Philippe Lefebvre O.P. Translation from the French by Dr. Cyril Desbruslais SJ, Prof. Emeritus, JDV, Pune

Acknowledgments

I salute you! You, Almighty God, the Alpha and Omega of the Story of this “Re-search”! You, Bethany Ashram, the Mother of my Initiation and Inspiration! You, my Parents, Teachers, Gurus and All the Loved Ones behind the Story of this Study! You, Justinus-Werk (L’Œuvre St-Justin), the Generous Patron of this Study! You, Cite-Justin, Fribourg, Switzerland, the Family of Fillip to my Stay and Study! You, the University of Fribourg and the Faculty of Theology, Switzerland, the Academic Ambiance to my Ambitious Attempt! You, Prof. Dr. Philippe Lefebvre O.P., the Doctoral Guide who Inspired me to Aspire and Provoked me to Pursue! You, Prof. Dr. Francis Arakkal, my Sanskrit Mentor to the Sources of Śāstras! You, Prof. Dr. Hans Ulrich Steymans O.P., a Constant Motivator and Appreciator of my Indian Literary Adventures! You, Ruth Schurter (Interlaken, Switzerland) who first read through the pennings of my research all along and suggested language fine-tuning! You, Joanne Gobrick (New York, USA), who meticulously made a journey through the avenues of this research doing critique and correction! You, who Made my Stay and Study Comfortable and Cosy in Switzerland through Friendship and Sponsorship!

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You, Bethany Vedavijnana Peeth and Bethany Scholasticate, Pune, the Immediate Impetus towards the Realisation of this Book! You, Prof. Dr. Cyril Desbruslais SJ, for providing your former philosophy student with a profound English translation of the French Foreword! You, the Production Team of Peter Lang [esp. Lucy Melville (Publishing Editor), Michelle Salyga (Acquisition Editor), Stephen Mazur (Editorial Assistant), Jackie Pavlovic (Production Contact) and Hemchand Gossai (Series Editor)], whose Skill and Craft Gave Shape to this Book! You, who Kept me Close to your Heart in Prayer and Spirit! G. Ayyaneth Pune, January 2016

Abbreviations and Acronyms

Davidic Episode

DE

David’s Song of Thanksgiving

DST

Dhvanyāloka

Dhv.

Kāvya Śāstra

KS

Mahābhārata

Mbh.

Nāradasmṛti

Nsm.

Nāṭya Śāstra

NS

Introduction

The Biblical and the Indian literary traditions were two ancient and rich narrative streams of the Orient of almost contemporaneous origin, viz. ca. 1200 BCE–100 CE. It was a time when the intellectual evolution of the Orient had its highest momentum. The natural outcome was that the hitherto oral tradition started appearing in diverse literary forms and there emerged rich literary traditions both in secular and religious milieus. Though the Biblical and the Indian literary traditions had independent origins and growth in terms of spatial and cultural milieus, there are literary landscapes of confluence where the fabrics of their collective wisdom are interwoven. This opens up a variety of avenues for approaching biblical narrative in a wide context of Oriental literary tradition and especially from the vantage point of ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra (Poetics).

General Purport and Prospects of This Study A. The common ethos of the literary Orient offers tremendous scope for approaching biblical narrative from the point of view of ancient Indian poetics, which also forms part of the Oriental milieu. B. Both biblical and Indian narrative traditions have rich oral and folk prehistoric traditions in their records. This attribute provides a substratum where their narrative patterns and paradigms can find a common ground.

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C. Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra, being multifarious and mutually integrative, will be able to supply a variety of poetical tools and devices with which the great and vast miscellany of biblical narrative can be approached and appreciated. D. Indian religious tradition is more narrative rather than doctrinal or dogmatic. This demands an Indian reading of the Bible endowed with a narratological approach to disentangle the biblical narrative from the burden of dogmas and doctrines and to re-launch its primordial story-culture. E. Biblical Narrative has been accused of discrepancies, deviations, disunities and dislocations by modern scientific approaches, especially by historical criticism. They are considered to be the consequence of narrative interpolations and intrusions that disrupt literary coherence. The Indian holistic approach to reality can see these phenomena more positively and accordingly address them in a more creative and constructive way. F. In a world of communication revolution, Indian narrative techniques and the modes of literary criticism are to be explored and employed more and more; in this regard, the application of them to the biblical narration would be an overture to the modern science and skills of narration at large. G. The science of the story of salvation is the story of the evolution of the human race and noesis. The process of re-discovering the art of narration from oral tradition to written and from fragmented folk tradition to multi mass-media, whether it is Hindu or Hebrew, will throw more light on the biblical narrative. H. The Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel, which is the narrative specimen of this study, shows complexity of motive, ambiguity of character, interweaving of plot, richness of narrative skills, interlocutory interventions, etc. These narrative features are typical of Indian narrative as well and thus they give more scope for a study such as this.

Guiding Mode and Motif The above envisaged scope exhorts this study to engage itself in a twofold task: firstly, a scientific research on ancient Indian narrative tradition calling for a plausible model of Kāvya Śāstra and secondly, the extent of its adaptability to the genre of biblical narrative. The mode of approach will be analytical and descriptive. In both cases, the basic approach will be narratological from the point of view of Indian Kāvya Śāstra, which should provide the necessary tools and devices

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for literary appreciation. However, it does not totally exclude or discard the conventional biblical scholarship such as Historical Criticism. Nevertheless, their approach to biblical narratives as historical documents with theological content has already been proven to be contentious by modern biblical scholarship. This calls for a new approach—an approach which takes biblical literature as narrative and as literary genre with distinct entities. Moreover, my indigenous and native tradition, i.e. Indian, compels me to posit a narratological approach to biblical literature. It is because Indian literary tradition is predominately narrative and the vast and versatile art of narration has brought forth various narrative devices and models. The scientific study of such a nature can be called “Kāvya Śāstra”—science of narration or poetics. This study is motivated by the firm perception that an Indian reading of the Bible is possible, because both Indian and biblical narrative traditions are characterised by stories and storytelling. India is a land of stories and the Bible can be counted as “The Story of God” unfolding in human history. This story-aspect must be explored and construed to serve an Indian reading of the Bible and thereby offer a better appreciation of the biblical narrative. Keeping this goal in mind, this study embarks upon an enquiry into the width and breadth of Kāvya Śāstra. Such an investigation will enable this study to further apply them to the biblical narrative. The modern biblical scholarship of scientific aristocracy has been preoccupied with the investigation of historical knowledge and doctrinal truth. Bar-Efrat remarks upon the natural outcome of such encroachments: “Most Bible scholars have directed their attention to approaches such as sourceand textual-criticism, and later also to the criticism of traditions and redaction, while the investigation of the narratives’ artistic qualities has been pushed aside” (1989:9). As the present reality of biblical scholarship thus stands, this study aims at exploring narrative tools and devices proper to Indian poetics in view of applying them to the biblical narrative. However, it must be noted that it is not a comparative study between two traditions or cultures, or not even between the literary works of Indian and biblical traditions; rather it intends to supply narrative tools and devices governing Indian Kāvya Śāstra. Caution has been taken to avoid the tendency of forced reading in order to fit those theories and methods into the biblical narrative. Thus, a close and comprehensive reading of the Bible has been adopted.

Some Notional Explication To render a common platform of understanding within this particular study, the central concepts occurring in the main title call for some notional explication.

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Narrative There are varying understandings of narrative text. According to the strict sense, “with tradition on their side, some narratologists (e.g. Genette) have argued that narrative is essentially a mode of verbal presentation and involves the linguistic recounting or telling of events rather than, say, their performance or enactment on stage” (Prince 2003:58). Here the ‘discourse’ in a literary work falls short of the component of a narrative. On the other hand, “… following the famous two-tier structuralist model, narrative can be said to have two parts: STORY and DISCOURSE” (Prince 2003:59). It is the wider conception of the narrative that has been adapted in the approach to biblical narrative by this study. Narrative in this broader framework, inclusive of various narrative genres, has already been conceived and accepted as a mode of approach by the modern biblical narratologists. The narrative is the art form, symbolic and imaginative in its representation that combines description and dialogue in order to depict principals in a particular span of time. The terms “narrate” and “narration” also belong in this fund of general, neutral categories. The verb “narrate” denotes the act of describing the events while the noun “narration” refers to the process of narrating. (Coats 1983:4)

Such a broad understanding of the narrative can easily incorporate within its domain the diverse narrative media of representation and the forms of narrative: media of representation like oral, written, sign language, movie, etc. and forms of narrative like novel, romance, novella, short story, history, biography, autobiography, epics, myths, folktales, legends, ballads, news reports, etc. Moreover, any discussion on narrative in the Indian context must discard the binary distinction between story and discourse, history and myth, mimesis and diegesis, prose and prosody, rhetoric and literal.

Kāvya Śāstra Literally Kāvya means any body of literary work (e.g. narrative or dramatic work, lyrical work, court epic, etc.) and Śāstra means science or treatise. In the Indian tradition, the notion of ‘Kāvya’ is very profound and incorporates not only poetry, but also all kinds of narrative art in its fold.1 Under the head of kāvya come all the works of individual poets who wrote either muktakas (four-lined) stanzas or full-fledged poems in cantos (sargabandha), prose romances couched in a stilted style, fables and tales of adventure, short poems on love, renunciation, and morality, psalms of devotion, etc. The

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composition mixing prose and verse is called caṃpū and belongs to a later age. A major branch of kāvya constitutes the genre of drama in which some of the best works have been written. (Sharma 2008 (vol. 1): 32)

‘Kāvya’ can also refer to the literary style endowed with figures of speech. So Kāvya Śāstra can be translated as ‘science of literary art’. The word ‘Poetics’ is its Western counterpart, and literary criticism, narratology, etc. come under its purview. This study includes in its scope both the notion of Kāvya as any body of literary work and also the notion of Kāvya Śāstra as poetics in the sense that it deals with all kinds of narrative art, not just poetry.

Appreciation Appreciation can be defined as ‘the act of evaluating the quality or value of a certain thing.’ Literary appreciation is not just an enterprise of evaluation, interpretation or analysis, but rather personal, impressionistic, or emotional apprehension and the sense of taste or flavour of a literary work. Therefore, this study prefers the term ‘appreciation’ (rasāsvāda) to literary analysis or literary criticism or interpretation. Although it is an arbitrary choice, it has got the backing of Indian tradition and according to which kāvya or sāhitya rasāsvāda (= literary appreciation) is savouring a work of literary art. In principle, sāhitya rasāsvāda entails analysis, evaluation, interpretation and criticism, but all the more it projects the notion of taste, flavour, aesthetic relish, savouring, etc. Taking into account the poetical nature and theological orientation of the biblical narrative, the ‘literary appreciation’ would be totally in line with the biblical scholarship based on narratological approach, rather than ‘literary criticism.’ It is because art of any kind is something which we appreciate through our senses, and the theological content we appreciate through our personal involvement. In both respects, the biblical narrative is an object of rasāsvāda (appreciation).

Thematic Texture This study unfolds into two parts. The first part is set apart for discussing different aspects, concepts, perspectives and trends regarding Indian biblical scholarship and Indian poetical tradition. Here a concerted effort in an analytical manner has been made to bring diverse sources together to form a comprehensive view of the vast setting of ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra. This will in turn delineate narrative models and narratological tools and devices which have both unique attributes and universal replications. In order to help the Western audience to locate the universal and

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particular attributes of Kāvya Śāstra in the realm of modern narratology, an overview of the tenets and trends of modern Western Narratology has been mapped out. Ancient Indian poetics served as a basis for all other later narrative devices, patterns and models which appeared in the Indian literary milieu. From this basis there sprouted a vast body of narrative material with distinctive features. Also, the extensive creative output of Indian narrators brought forth different patterns or models which were either totally distinctive or mutually inclusive. A discussion on all such nuances will suggest the possibility of developing an Indian narratology which will eventually help one in an Indian reading of the Bible. Having that in mind, the first part prepares a proper point of departure for an Indian approach to the biblical narrative. The main effort therein is to locate the biblical narrative in the realm of poetics in general, and Kāvya Śāstra in particular. At the end of the first part, this study comes to the finding of four models extracted from the texture of the Indian poetic fabric. The second part takes this study to its logical conclusion by showing the validity and viability of the poetical theories and methods which hail from the ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra. It is made possible by applying them to the miscellany of the Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel leading towards its appreciation. The rationale behind the choice of this part of the Bible is none other than what Damrosch observes: “The several stages of the growth of the David story show a gradual integration of the narrative values of poetic epic and prose history” (1991:182). Since the confluence of poetic epic and prose history belongs to the very fabric of ancient Indian narrative tradition, the Davidic Episode could be an ideal threshold to Indian poetical and narratological exploration of the Bible. Moreover, as this study deals extensively with various aspects of poetics, i.e. narrative content and form, plots, figures, characterisation, aesthetics, story, etc., it needs a wider spectrum of narrative environment which the Davidic Episode can readily offer. Indian points of reference taken from the anthology of ancient Indian literary works are called in to assist the attempt to unscramble the ideas and concepts pertaining to each model in order to make way for their application. Furthermore, as the application of the models to the biblical narrative demands a descriptive and illustrative way of presentation, this study has resorted to Figures (diagrammatic display) very often to explicate the nuances of the narrative artistry. They are additional representation and mapping of the narrative features. As is clear from the above discussion, it is taken for granted that the total disposition and design of this study is narratological. Therefore, this study considers other scientific approaches to biblical narrative to be out of place in the discussion to follow. Although a comparative outlook of the themes this study could engage

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with that of the biblical narratives besides the Books of Samuel could be an added worth and profundity, such an attempt falls beyond the scope of this study. Syntactical, syncretical, morphological and etymological concerns of the text regarding the biblical languages (Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek) have been kept out of the discussion in order to place the focus on poetical purport. Thus, the whole study is focused on the recipe of Kāvya Śāstra and the way it flavours the biblical narrative for a renewed and refined relish and for an in-depth and involved Indian reading of the Bible.

part one

Biblical Narrative and Indian Kāvya Śāstra

chapter one

The Point of Departure for an Indian Approach to Biblical Narrative

A call and craving for ‘holistic’ reading of the Bible is very much in at a time when narrative techniques take avatars ever new in a world of cyber communication. Its range of research involves real author—implied author, real reader—implied reader and real text—superimposed text. However, in the customer-friendly and user-friendly modern world, the real reader gets prominence. The lack of such prominence given to the real reader is a fault of which biblical interpretations have been accused. It is one of the ironies of much writing on biblical interpretation that real readers are often simply assumed to be able and willing to step up the insights of theoretical analysis of biblical texts and embrace them somehow without regard to questions of their character, location, or other influencing factors. (Briggs 2010:207)

Finding ways and means to confront this issue in the Indian context is the main concern of this study. An Indian reading of the Bible, taking the Indian reader into serious consideration, calls for a narrative-literary-story approach in the first instance. This chapter will pave the way for such an attempt.

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Biblical Narrative in the Realm of Literary Appreciation The overall theme of this study presents the Bible as a literary work of art which can be reckoned in the realm of literary appreciation. In this regard the following issues can be speculated on:

Bible as Literature One important issue to be clarified early in the introduction of this study is whether the Bible can be classified as literature among the world classics. The wide variety of themes and literary forms adopted in the Bible alone bear witness to the fact that it is a literary masterpiece of collective endeavour. For example, the figurative language used, the frequent occurrence of anthologies, the story-line continuously followed, the plots meticulously unfolded, etc. are good enough to identify the Bible as literature. The edifice of the Bible as literature is formed by the literary genres such as folk tale, legend, myth, epic or saga, poetry, ballad, hymn, psalm, short story, elegy, apocalypse, oracle, proverb, epigram, etc. and the literary attributes such as metaphor, parable, proverb, paradox, irony, satire, simile, truism, parallelism, synonymy, metonymy, hyperbole, etc. and literary contents such as history, historiography, tragedy, comedy, epiphany, biography, liturgy, creed, code, cult, sermon, letter, etc. Taking into consideration the time covered, the number of writers and the languages involved and the themes dealt with, one marvels at the Bible’s overall unity.

Narrative Integrity of the Biblical Literature The narrative integrity of biblical literature is a matter of dispute. This contention can be best viewed through the eyes of a biblical critique: … one objection is that the Bible is not, in any normal sense, a work of literature. It is a vast miscellany, by many authors, of many themes and kinds. Its unity has been imposed on it, as it were, from without; by the growth and establishment of the canon, by the historical perspectives that bind it together, by the interlocking prophecies, quotations and allusions that draw together the Old Testament and the New. (Henn 1970:9)

Accordingly, the Bible is regarded as a miscellaneous collection of accounts without much narrative integrity and unity. One cannot deny the fact that the biblical texts are the product of long and complex histories of composition, addition, redaction and revision. This does not mean that the narrative unity has been imposed on it.

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On the contrary it should be perceived as part of its organic growth. The following arguments will make this point more distinct: a) The constant addition of story after story and improvisation of the texts show that a ‘master plot’ exists which strings together the biblical narrative, although it covers a time-span of centuries and varieties of subject matter. It is not the external compulsions which made the disparate sources come together, but it is the internal quest for continuity and unity which endowed it with its present literary form. b) The authorship of the Mahābhārata, the ancient great epic of India, is credited to Vyāsa. The Mahābhārata containing more than 100,000 verses, making it approximately four times longer than the Bible, has got a long history of literary formation with constant redaction and interpolation. This means that the Mahābhārata took the present form through many hands and the name Vyāsa can be considered to be a generic name. Etymologically Vyāsa1 means breadth and width. It shows the dynamic character of a literary work and Vyāsa ensures the unity and integrity of the Mahābhārata as a literary work of art. In the same way, there may be many Vyāsas or redactors who constructed the biblical narrative. c) The images, events, themes, etc. unfolding throughout the Bible go deep down into the life of humans and that coheres the disparate biblical narratives as a literary work of art.  Through the dim and broken history of the Bible there passes a strange procession of events and images which alone can shadow forth, and in part satisfy, man’s groping recognition of many kinds of hidden yet vital life; that the roots which the images send deep into our minds draw from the depths something that satisfies, we do not know how, the deepest need of the psyche. (Henn 1970:20)

Literature re-presents the life of humans. In the Bible, it is achieved not as disunited and fragmented pieces but as a narrative coherence. Satisfying man’s quest for life in various forms woven into a coherent whole makes the Bible a literary masterpiece.

Narrative Integrity as a Result of Divine-Human Creativity The Bible as literature does not necessarily negate the canonical status of the Book and the belief that it is inspired. All the more, it will affirm the God-given creativity of the human which streams underneath the Biblical narrative with the sole intention of re-creating and re-enacting the creative intervention of God

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in human history. The formation of the biblical literature itself can be seen as an act of creation moved and motivated by God on the one hand; but on the other hand, activated and animated by and through humans. This divine-touch on the creative work of humans can be called in theological terms ‘inspiration,’ inspiration to give flesh and blood to the economy of God unfolded in the living tradition. It came about in the form of a different literary genre with a variety of contents. This evolutionary process of the biblical narrative presupposes a humantouch as well, because it falls under the category of human understanding and expression.

Literary Appreciation of Biblical Narrative—A Method of Approach The literary appreciation of biblical narrative is more a method of approach than an exclusive way of handling the biblical literature. Each age of the biblical scholarship has been characterised by one or more methods of approach to biblical narrative. Classical Jewish method of interpretation was midrashic; then the modern era was marked by ‘historical-critical method’ which employed one or more critical approaches such as ‘text criticism,’ ‘source criticism,’ ‘form criticism,’ and ‘redaction criticism.’ Almost simultaneously there appeared ‘canonical criticism’ and ‘rhetorical criticism.’ ‘Narrative criticism’ is slowly picking up momentum in the post-modern era with the backing of narratology and other modern disciplines. Except midrashic interpretation, all other methods of approach have been proposed as theories investigating and analysing the nuances of biblical literature; that is why they are known as ‘criticism.’ “Literary readings of the Bible hover between the imaginative and poetic, and the academic” (David Jasper as in Barton 2008:25). This study wants to focus on the aspect of ‘literary appreciation’ as a method of approach. In contrast to ‘literary criticism’ which provides theories of interpretation, ‘literary appreciation’ provides tools and devices to approach and to savour the flavour of biblical narrative. This method of approach takes the final form of the biblical narrative as its subject matter of appreciation. Where historical criticism sought meaning in the origins or sources of biblical texts, we take the final form (itself a notion not free of problems) as our primary text. Instead of attempting to reconstruct an ancient ‘history’ we read these narratives as we might read modern novels or short stories, constructing a story world in which questions of human values and belief (and theology) find shape in relation to our own (and our readers’) world(s). (Gunn and Fewell 1993:9)

From this standpoint this study will make an attempt to explore the tools and devices of ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra in view of the appreciation of biblical narrative.

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Biblical Exegesis and the Indian Dilemma Thereof Indian biblical scholarship has always fully adhered to each and every enterprise of biblical studies, of researches and of critical deliberations in the international arena. Therefore, it has been lagging behind the Western scholarship in new advancements. Due to the Western upper hand on ‘experimental science’ and on scholarly research of enormity and as well as the Indian social, economic and ecclesial factors, Indian biblical scholars were mostly a derivative product of the West. They had no other option than submitting themselves wholly to ‘borrowed models.’2 These imported models, though numerous in number, have a minimal impact on the Indian Bible-reader.

Panoramic View of the Exegetical Methods and Approaches It would be proper and fitting to showcase the important endeavours made in the field of biblical exegesis in general in order to outfit this study to venture upon new horizons. It seems that the biblical scholars prefer to defer on the matter of naming and grouping of different methods and approaches. Whether it can be called ‘criticism’ or whether it is a ‘method’ or just an ‘approach’ is a matter of contention. In spite of such difference of opinions, this study would like to classify them mainly as ‘exegetical methods’ and ‘exegetical approaches’ in line with the Pontifical Biblical Commission’s document.3 However the sub-classifications under each category are of arbitrary choice.

Figure 1.  Main Methods of Biblical Exegesis.

Figure 2.  Main Approaches of Biblical Exegesis.

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Figure 3.  Methods Employed by Historical Criticism.

Figure 4.  Main Concerns of Canonical Criticism.

Figure 5.  Main Concerns of Rhetorical Criticism.

Figure 6.  Main Concerns of Narrative Criticism.

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The Indian Dilemma in Biblical Exegesis Adopting the ‘borrowed models’ to the concrete Indian situation has always been a big dilemma confronted by the Indian biblical exegetes. On the one hand they were either obliged to comply with Western education or they were attracted to the resonance of the Western renaissance which resulted in the ushering in of the age of ‘experimental science’ and ‘criticism.’ On the other hand they were confronted by the Indian cultural, social, political and ecclesial realities. The tension between these two factors impelled them to follow frantically ever new methods and approaches and to experiment with them. It produced some results, especially in the matter of new Bible translations and versions in different regional languages and for social action. The Historical Critical method could not make a big impact on Indian religious or literary circles of biblical importance. The general reasons behind such a shortcoming have already been brought out by the ‘post-critical’4 exegetical schools. This study does not want to indulge itself in evaluating the minutiae of the failures of historical criticism, pointed out by those new schools and trends.5 However, mentioning some inadequacies of historical criticism, directly concerning the Indian situation and realities, will be of importance: 1) Over-occupation with the diachronic nature of the Scripture, i.e. history of the origin of the Scripture, is not in agreement with Indian thinking. 2) Searching for authorial meaning is incompatible with the Indian tradition of literary criticism. 3) Experimental and rational scientific methods do not correspond with the Indian narrative mind. 4) In historical criticism there is no room for inter-textual reading beyond the biblical world. 5) Jargonistic style and system of interpretation will only alienate the reader from the Bible.6 6) Historical criticism confined the Bible to the Sitz im Leben of its past and thereby neglected the context-sensitivity of the present. These are some of the reasons behind growing grave dissatisfaction with and deep misgiving about the historical-critical method among the Indian theologians in the past three decades. It drove them once again to borrow new methods produced elsewhere in the world and to try to adapt it to the Indian situation. Many have contributed a lot in that line in which they made use of other approaches such as liberationist, sociologist, psychologist, semiotic, comparative, etc.7 To have a detailed documentation of all such attempts is a laborious task and neither does

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it pertain to the spectrum of this study. Nevertheless an appraisal of some of the modern trends which gained more currency among the biblical scholarship in India and among the ecclesial, social and inter-cultural spheres would be worth mentioning.

Main Trends in an Indian Reading of the Bible There have been many attempts by Indian biblical exegetes to interpret the Bible making use of the existing or borrowed materials, either reproducing them exactly or editing them to suit the Indian situation. The interpretation of the scriptures in the oriental tradition in general and especially in India has never been an academic endeavour of rational or analytical nature. Those who deliberated deeply upon scriptures were sages, seers, saints, hermits, poets and narrators imbued with a variety of arts of expression. The folks’ initiatives in making the scriptures ever alive and down to earth gave rise to the proliferation of diverse forms of interpretative art in oral, written, musical and sculptural traditions. All such industrious undertakings were spiritually and pragmatically motivated. Regarding spiritual predisposition the Indian lyricist Harbhajan Singh observes: They (Indian poeticians) are concerned more with the interiority, the soul of literature than its vast exterior expanses. Nonetheless, some of the insights left by them could provide a dependable base for a viable tradition to be built upon. They were not university academics catering to the day-to-day needs of their pupils. Men of stupendous erudition, they mediated on literature for no purpose other than spiritual pleasure. (Dev 2005:13)

Spiritual pleasure combined with pragmatic sensitivity led the general folk to involve themselves in the exegetical initiatives either as actor enacting the scriptures or as appreciator having pleasure in pondering on scriptures. About pragmatic sensitivity Soares-Prabhu writes: An Indian exegesis will be greatly concerned about relevance and so will strenuously avoid the academic barrenness which afflicts ‘scientific’ exegesis today. Relevance has always been the goal of traditional Indian (Hindu) theology, where a study of the sacred books was never merely an academic exercise (‘truth for truth’s sake’) but always a severely practical quest after liberation. (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 2): 29)

Out of both these concerns were born ancient and classical poetical theories, concepts, devices and tools.

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This profound literary heritage had slowly been submerged by the Western ideological encroachment and as a result the literary pundits have been thrown into a situation of double-rootedness. It has been rightly pointed out by Harbhajan Singh: We have all but snapped our ties with our classical critical heritage and all that we have received from alien sources have not sunk deep enough into us. They cannot sink because the tradition into which they are to be integrated is not there and the traditions out of which they have evolved are not fully available with us. (Dev 2005:14)

Although Singh speaks about Indian literary criticism in general, it is all the more true in the case of biblical exegesis. In recent times, the Indian biblical exegetes also started sensing something dubious about this double-rootedness and the estrangement thereof. As a result some soul-searching initiatives came forth giving more scope for Indian literary critical tradition and Indian social and religious contexts in the task of biblical interpretation. Such initiatives lack a concerted effort and therefore fail to make a big impact on the multifaceted Indian literary, social and religious milieus. Hence they can be called trends and the main such trends can be indicated as below:

Figure 7.  Main Trends in an Indian Reading of the Bible.

Classical Criticism—Literary Reading of the Bible Indian classical criticism could make some inroads into the Indian biblical scholarship dominated hitherto by imported historical criticism. A passing reference to the gist of such a trend is made here to show the scope of the Indian classical criticism in shaping an indigenous biblical hermeneutics. The themes of ancient Indian literature and literary criticism will be dealt with in detail in the following chapter. When we meditate on the nature of Indian classical criticism, we come to

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the realization that it is through and through philosophic, semiotic and semantic, and aesthetic. Philosophic When we say that it is philosophic in nature that implies also the religious given. A compartmentalised view of philosophy and theology is alien to Indian tradition. This kind of mutual inclusiveness gives the classical criticism a theoretical basis and at the same time, an exoteric appeal. The main concepts of Indian poetics such as dhvani, rasa, alaṅkāra, vakrokti, sphoṭa, rīti, guṇa-doṣa, rūpaka, lakṣaṇā, abhidhā, vyañjanā, etc. came into the literary limelight mainly as literary devices to interpret the literary works of religious nature. Those who pioneered and patronised such poetic endeavours were both religious pundits and philosophers of their respective time. Though their works were philosophical and theoretical in content, they appealed to the sense of the common sadhus and sahṛdayas. So Indian classical criticism could easily be a good alternative attempt to compete with the other Western critical theories; and naturally could do more justice to the native demands. Semiotic and Semantic The study of signs and symbols enunciated by Indian classical criticism provides the exegetes viable tools to work with. It helps to go deep into the deep meaning of the text, to go beyond the literal meaning and to transcend the shallowness in order to pave the way for hearing the ‘echoes’ (dhvani). It is a notable feat of the Indian semioticians and semanticists that they could amply explore the evocative and denotative power of the word. The impact of imparting such an approach to biblical exegesis in India has been pointed out by Soares-Prabhu: “… the Indian exegete will always approach the biblical text with an openness to its depth meaning. He will be sensitive to the evocations of the text, aware of the ‘other echoes (that) inhabit the garden.’ This will save him from the flat historicism that makes so much of Western biblical exegesis distressingly irrelevant” (Padinjarekuttu, 1999 (vol. 4): 38). Such awareness that Indian classical criticism could take the biblical exegesis to a new horizon of meaning through a semantic and semiotic direction establishes a new trajectory. A serious and earnest exploration in this regard has yet to come. Aesthetic A wide range of aesthetical prospects fall into the framework of Indian classical criticism. Potentially rich aesthetical speculations of the Indian domain in comparison to other world literary traditions had already laid themselves a strong

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theoretical foundation in 300 BCE. The theory of rasa (9-fold classification of rasa in literature, dance, paintings and sculptures) is very much illustrative of this fact. A notable feature of the Indian aesthetic can be distinguished from the Western concept of art: Indian tradition upholds that art should not be mimetic (imitative or representing reality), on the contrary it should be expressive. In the West this expressionist motif gained momentum only with the emergence of Romanticism. Indian aesthetics in all forms of art has always remained expressive through abstraction and symbolism against realism and naturalism. A distinctive feature of Indian civilization, connected with its metaphysical and aesthetic rather than its religious and theological character, is represented by its search for the total reality through modes of feeling and experience (rasas), both serene and awesome, charming and repellent. The art of no other culture in the world has shown such courage and sincerity, expressing the entire gamut of nine rasas or moods and emotions. (Mukerjee 1965:94)

The Old Testament narrative can also be placed in this Indian aesthetical blueprint, for it is more expressive, giving expression to feeling and experience, rather than mimesis based on ideology. A mere ideological reading of the Bible obsessed with excessive realism will do more harm than good. Here the profound Indian aesthetical science of classical criticism finds a place in a modern attempt of an Indian reading of the Bible.

Contextual Approach—Social Reading of the Bible The liberation theology which came into prominence in the 1970s and 80s at the other ends of the world made some waves in India as well. As a result it created an awareness of theologising in context; and the Indian context in particular, which has been taken seriously by biblical theologians and exegetes. Such a movement has mostly been confined to the thorough contextual reading of the New Testament and to which the prophetical books of the OT rendered secondary sustenance. It was because the ideologically packed content of the biblical interpretation could easily find the value system and social precepts to its taste in the NT rather than in the OT. To apply a biblical message in context, the biblical exegetes depended heavily on modern social science and ideologies. This trend can be characterised as a social reading of the Bible against the backdrop of modern social ideologies such as Marxism, socialism and other sociological disciplines such as anthropology and cultural and political sciences. In India the social reading of the Bible presupposes a thorough knowledge of and rootedness in the Indian context and an openness to letting the Bible interact with the particular realities of the context.

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Indian Context The Indian context is complex with its social, cultural and religious pluriformity. India’s population of 1.26 billion consists of more than 2000 ethnic groups, speaking 1652 languages and dialects belonging to several major linguistic families, such as Indo-Aryan (spoken by 70% of Indians), Dravidian (spoken by 22% of Indians), Austro-Asiatic and Tibeto-Burman. The religious tradition of India strikes a dazzling diversity which is marked by the presence of Hinduism originated from Vedic Tradition; Buddhism and Jainism originated from Shramana tradition; Judaism, Christianity and Islam originated from Semitic tradition; prophetic religions such as Sikhism and the Baha’i Faith and hundreds of distinctive aboriginal tribal faiths. In spite of this diversity, there lies a web of unity that makes one ‘Indian.’ It is both abstract and concrete: abstract in the sense of that which constitutes the ‘Indian worldview’ and concrete in the sense of emotiveness. Colonialism was in fact the catalyst for political unity and as a result, the independent the India became one political entity. This new India enjoying political unity and cultural diversity lives at the same time in adverse economic inequality and racial disparity, corruption and exploitation. The biblical exegetes encounter here the dichotomy between the bright side of diversity and the dull side of social infirmity. Contextualised Exegesis According to the contextual approach the above delineated social realities should be a matter of great concern for a proper biblical exegesis in India. An exegetical enterprise alien to the context is unwarranted in the Indian social arena, the main reasons for which have been articulated by Soares-Prabhu: “Indian thinking is therefore always contextual. It tends to avoid abstract, universally valid judgments about things in general, preferring instead to evaluate persons, events, and things in terms of the specific context in which they occur” (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 2): 274). The Historical critical method has been accused of making universalistic, impersonal and abstract claims on biblical narrative. A contextual approach takes for granted the specific context as the locus of any interpretative endeavour which is more particular, personal and present. It situates the biblical narrative in the socio-political and religio-cultural context letting itself undergo a dialectical process—a process of active, creative and critical interaction among text-context-exegete. As we have already seen, the context in question, i.e. Indian, is incredibly complex, contrasting and conflicting, which demands social commitment, deep cultural rootedness and shrewd sensitivity to the situation to set about an earnest exegetical process of interaction. The dearth of such a disposition is obvious in the new trends of contextual theology in India and consequently they have showed

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the tendency to fall into any one of the extremes. For example, the liberationist approach is a contextual reading of the Bible and it has shown the tendency of ascribing its compact ideology to biblical narrative in view of positing materialistic liberation. On the contrary, the Indian concept of liberation is not principally materialistic, but holistic, i.e. liberation from all bondages which is contained in the Indian concepts of mokṣa or nirvana.8 Again, there are some other attempts of the contextual reading of the Bible which are too otherworldly, individualistic and socially uncommitted. Interpretation here becomes an exercise of enculturation adapting some indigenous concepts, spiritual practices and cultic forms. Other matters of social importance such as the virtue and burden of diversity, the adverse effects of poverty, oppression and injustice, etc. need not be its main concern. Some biblical theologians suggest that an integral reading of the Bible would strike the balance which will do justice to the Indian context. More precisely, an integral reading would be a reading which is in agreement or in harmony with the Sitz im Leben of India—the setting in life in two respects: the Indian situation and the Indian worldview.

Comparative Approach—Religious Reading of the Bible The comparative approach can be said to be an outcome of inter-religious dialogue and the awareness of the importance of inculturation. The paradigm shift in missiology, soteriology and ecclesiology took place as a result of the new enlightenment in the Christian churches of the modern world, posing many challenges especially in the field of biblical interpretation in context. As a consequence, the reality of multi-religious context ceased to be an evil to be subdued, but rather has been looked upon as a reality to be explored, interpreted and lived. There emerged the need of inter-religious dialogue and other mutual interactions among the religions and mutual appreciation of scriptures. The Indian situation was desperately in need of such an approach for it has always been marked by the plurality of religion and scriptures. Hindu religious tradition has been the subject matter of a comparative approach on account of its nature more as a cultural substratum than a religion.9 “Nothing (not even the other so-called minority religions) quite escapes the pervasive influence of this subtle unifying yet intrinsically pluralist culture” (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 2): 274). In this approach the vast body of Hindu literature is assumed to be the main source of Indian culture and it has been explored in order to throw more ‘eastern light’ upon the Indian reading of the Bible. The biblical exegesis gaining impetus from the above-mentioned new awareness had, however, the propensity to give impersonation of Hindu customs and practices and mere familiarisation of Hindu scriptures. There was the danger of comparison, simply for the sake of comparison, of losing the soul of both scriptural

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traditions. Some genuine efforts could gather momentum and make real, though meagre, impact on the realm of inter-religious dialogue and other religious interactions. Those efforts, academic and non-academic in nature, have extended their scope to the philosophical and theological categories such as metaphysics (nyāyavaiśeṣika), hermeneutics (vyañjanā), logic (tharkaśāstra), poetics (kāvya śāstra); spiritual paths such as jñāna mārga (wisdom-path), bhakti mārga (devotionpath) and karma mārga (work-path); spiritual disciplines such as yoga, sādhanā, sannyasa, dhyana and satsanga; and spiritual practices such as pooja, ārathi, japa, bhajana, etc. In India a comparative approach to biblical exegesis is a tedious path to tread. The objects of comparison at issue, i.e. Biblical and Hindu worldviews, are distinguished mostly by their diametrical points of view. Important points thereof can be depicted respectively: monotheistic—polytheistic; anthropocentric— cosmocentric; atomistic—holistic; time as linear—time as cyclic; hearing (śruti)— seeing (darśana); etc. The main task of the exegetes is to bridge the gap between these two, but not at the cost of one of the traditions and not by syncretism. It should be a reciprocal process of critical reading devoid of the subjective reaction and arbitrary prejudice of the interpreter. Such a comparative approach to the Bible in the light of the worldview of Hindu religious tradition has been fruitful, finding more meaning in dialogue, inculturation, transculturation, adaptation, etc.

Indian Weltanschauung Towards an Indian Approach to Biblical Narrative The discussion so far on different approaches to an Indian reading of the Bible points to the fact that being au fait on the Indian Weltanschauung would be a proper point of departure for any biblical exegetical initiative. The aura of this unique Weltanschauung pervades all aspects of literary, social and religious spheres. Although the expressions of this Weltanschauung in Indian tradition are so splendid, some constituent elements can be noted and summarised in certain concepts. This study proposes six such concepts which will provide a general picture of the Indian Weltanschauung: (A) Narrative (story), (B) Mythical, (C) Cosmocentric, (D) Holistic, (E) Dhárma, and (F) Darśan.

Narrative (Story) Weltanschauung The mysteries of the universe and life, the belief system, the ethical deliberation and the vista of fantasy in Indian tradition find their expression mainly in

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Figure 8.  Indian Weltanschauung.

stories—stories narrated in the form of lyrics or in the mixed genres of prose and poetry. Bhattacharyya remarks that “the ancient Indian oral tradition (including the Védas) contained in it the profound religious hymns, the mixed genre of prose and poetry, the ākhyānas, the philosophic poems that express the deep feeling of the oneness of existence, the didactic and secular verses” (Dev 2005:103). From time immemorial, the Indian culture has been fundamentally narrative and poetic in nature. The great seers, monks, gurus, pundits and other exponents of ancient Indian Hindu Tradition were not primarily theoreticians and systematic theologians who articulated their horizon of thought in propositions and principles. They were primarily great story-tellers or narrators and they discovered ever new narrative devices and went on exploring the new devices. Misra gives a broad sketch of Indian narrative tradition: Coming to the oral-cum-written tradition of narration one finds two main types of structure, the epical and the legendary. The Mahābhārata, the Rāmāyaṇa and the Purāṇas follow the former pattern; the great string of stories called Brihatkatha and the like follow the latter. The epical pattern in turn is of two kinds: (1) Itihāsic, and (2) Purāṇa. Mahābhārata and Rāmāyaṇa are called ‘Itihāsic,’ not exactly meaning history as they relate to the past but do not cling to it—through continuous retelling they become an eternal present. (Dev 2005:103)

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Even in this post-modern era, stories in various forms of narratives function as main carriers of the ethos of Hindu Tradition. The traditional Indian narrative art has been inspiring and evoking the indigenous and the world narratives for centuries by contributing many models, patterns and poetics.10 The emergence of new languages and the foreign interventions in the Middle Ages made it inevitable to find new ways of narration to narrate new things, i.e. contemporary realities, new roles of the individuals and folk groups, new political and social developments, etc. It was a period of great diversification and decentralisation. These kinds of tremendous, yet unorganised, centrifugal and grass-roots level activities in the field of literature are marked by features such as:

• translating and adapting the Sanskrit classics to regional languages • tribal and downtrodden people rediscovering their own potential • women writers expressing their own voice and telling tales in their own

manner • the dialects of the past bringing into being new literary forms • readjustments of perceptions and evaluations of literary works • new literary genres produced by the impact of new religious and spiritual movements, sects and schools, etc. The narrative art itself became the centre of attraction and that resulted in side-lining the scientific study of the narrative or the narrative critic or the insightful analysis of the art of narration.

Mythical (Non-Rational) Weltanschauung When narrative is the mode of expression which shapes the Indian thinking and imagination, mythical character could be looked upon as the mould in which and out of which the narration acquires different forms. The Indian worldview is more mythical than pure rational, historical and empirical. It doesn’t mean that it is irrational, better to say non-rational. A mythical substratum prepares the ground for rational, philosophic, metaphysical, fictional and religious thinking and narrative outgrowth. Das makes a passing reference to the Indian mythological lore: Parallel to the chronological development of its mythology (The Védas, the Upanishads, the Itihāsic or the epics and the Purāṇas), there grew a solid ethical, moral, pragmatic and purely earthly tradition of literature consisting of the Brihatkatha (only a part of which is available to us as the Kathasarit-sagara), a compilation of lively tales of wisdom, wit and delight; the Jatakas, the world’s first collection of didactic tales; the Pañchatantra, the world’s first compilation of fables, apart from stories based on

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dramatic events and characters of remote past, … and came to be regarded as aspects of our mythological lore. (2008:ix)

Indian mythological speculation has its roots in classical Hinduism originating from the time of the Vedic civilization, from the ancient Vedic religion. The characters, theology, philosophy and stories that make up ancient Vedic myths are indelibly linked with Hindu beliefs. Myths were the main carriers of the Indian ethos and have been passed on from generation to generation through ever new narrative incarnations either by word of mouth or through carefully stored scriptures. The interesting aspect of the stories in Indian Mythology is that they are usually meant to convey subtle facts, rules and maxims to guide our daily lives. Therefore, mythology is reckoned to be the profound constituent of Indian Culture. “It is the only civilized country (as against tribes that live in isolated areas) where myth still survives. They have been refined into the most subtle kind of religion, a kind of mythical religion” (Blücher 1967:2). The mythical worldview encompasses every sphere of Indian thinking and the art of expression. Blücher makes a deep and profound sketch of the Indian mythical Weltanschauung. “This tremendous power, which still rules millions of men, is a very interesting phenomenon, because it is the culmination of the greatest mythical development humanity has ever witnessed. It can always be renewed. It grows like a kind of jungle overgrowing everything” (1967:3). Indian myth is like a plant that grows over everything—an organic growth which brings new vitality to the whole. It is quite a work of art and it always gives new nourishment to speculative thinking.

Cosmocentric (Non-Anthropocentric) Weltanschauung Another dominant factor of Indian Weltanschauung is cosmocentricism, which is counted as the opposite pole of anthropocentricism. The anthropocentric worldview esteems the human being as the central and basic element of the universe and history is seen as a process leading to the origin and development of humankind. The other realities related to the whole universe are perceived, interpreted and handled exclusively in terms of human values and experience. The cosmocentric worldview, alternatively, is centred on the concept of the interrelatedness of all things and based on the conviction that the universe and all things within it are equally and intrinsically valuable. Therefore it is holistic and multi-centred and reality is experienced and defined not by exclusion but by identity and oneness. Almost all schools of ancient Indian philosophy (Sāṁkhya, Darśana, Védanta, Buddhism, Jainism, etc.), epics (Rāmāyaṇa and Mahābhārata), purely religious texts

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(Bhagavad Gītā, Purāṇa, etc.) and other Śāstras or sciences (Arthaśāstra, Kāmaśāstra, Vastuśāstra, Jyotisha, Ayurvéda, etc.) exemplarily adhere to the cosmocentric worldview in their theory and practice. An Indologist, Francis X. D’sa, even characterises cosmocentrism as the fundamental metaphor of the Hindu worldview: “Wenn daher die Ausdrücke „Kosmos” oder „kosmisch” oder „kosmozentrisch” im Folgenden verwendet werden, so werden sie im Sinn von Ganzsein, Vollständigsein verwendet. Die Grundmetapher der hinduistischen Weltanschauung ist also diese: Ganzsein, Vollständigsein, Fülle, Totalität” (1987:47). This Grundmetapher embraces all major Hindu concepts such as ‘cyclical time,’ ‘cosmic order (ṛta),’ ‘rebirth,’ ‘inclusiveness,’ ‘world as the body of God (Puruṣa),’ ‘logic of complementarity,’ etc. In contrast to the Indian cosmocentric mind-set, one encounters the anthropocentric worldview of biblical tradition. Nevertheless, one cannot write off the complementarity of both orientations, as Soares-Prabhu conceives it: The Indian world-view encompasses the whole cosmos rather than focusing on humankind alone. Humankind is experienced not as standing over against nature and dominating it, but as rooted in the cosmos and integrally related to it. If the human person is the crown of the universe, this is so not in the sense that a king is the head of the kingdom, but in the way that the head is the ‘crown’ of the body, that is, as part of particular significance in an organic and indivisible whole. (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 4): 37)

The Indian myths and metaphors, especially, demonstrate in every aspect a universalism, a cosmocentric-anthropocentric synthesis.

Holistic (All-Inclusive) Weltanschauung The holistic Weltanschauung of the Indian mind is a natural corollary of its cosmocentric worldview. All cosmocentric visions are holistic. Their approach commences from the whole to its parts and then back to the whole. Soares-Prabhu notes in this regard: It always tries to grasp the whole, because things have meaning only as parts of this whole. Because of this passion for wholeness, the Indian mind is prepared, as Troy Organ has said, to risk the chance of error rather than the loss of any part of truth. … Indian thinking is therefore tolerant of ambiguity, and is able to hold together seemingly contradictory aspects of reality as complementary parts of a never fully to be apprehended whole. (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 2): 274)

According to this worldview all objects and events in the physical world are interdependent and inseparable ‘parts’ of the ‘Cosmic whole.’ The ‘whole’ and its parts

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are constantly and mutually interacting. The physical world is so structured that the ‘whole’ is enfolded in each of its parts and each ‘part’ in some manner contains the ‘whole.’ The relationship between the ‘whole’ and the ‘parts’ is organic, not just functional and the attributes of the ‘parts’ can only be obtained in terms of the ‘whole.’ The depth and profundity of the quest in this regard is revealed in various schools of thought developed in India. The ancient Indian masterminds had conceptualised the fundamental unity of all cosmic phenomena and the earliest vivid depiction of the holistic worldview found in the Upaniṣads: कामस्तदग्रे समवर्तताधि मनसो रेतः परथमं यदासीत | सतो बन्धुमसति निरविन्दन हर्दि परतीष्याकवयो मनीषा || [Thereafter rose Desire (kāma) in the beginning, Desire, the primal seed and germ of Spirit (manasō rētah:). Sages who searched with their heart’s thought discovered the existent’s kinship in the non-existent (or have found out the union between being and non-being).] (Ṛgvéda 10.129.4, The Nasadyia-Sukta or The Creation Hymn; Free translation)

The crux of the Upaniṣadic wisdom lies mainly in the realization of the Transcendent in the individual and the universal (aham brahmāsmi and sarvam khalvidam brahma). This principle of wholeness or interrelatedness or interconnectedness is at the root of the Indian psyche. The holistic Weltanschauung, which forms the bedrock of Indian thought, has the power to prevail upon those aberrations which persist in the history of India in the form of the caste system and many anti-social and inhuman traits.

Dhárma (Cosmic Rythmus) Weltanschauung The central presupposition of ancient Indian wisdom again is that behind the whole kaleidoscopic ensemble there is a fundamental order, unity, design, rhythm, rule, system, harmony or organization. It has been subtly conceived as a mantra in the concept of Dhárma. A serious reflection on the core of Dhárma and its opposite Adhárma by D’sa is worth mentioning. Dhárma heißt rechte Ordnung bzw. Harmonie, derzufolge jedes Ding seine eigene Natur und seinen berechtigten Platz im Ganzen hat. Dhárma ist daher Bezogenheit zu allen Dingen. Eine rechte Beziehung ist eine solche, in der alles richtig integriert und mit allen anderen Dingen in Beziehung ist. Adhárma umgekehrt das, was nicht mit den natürlichen Gegebenheiten in Übereinstimmung ist, sondern was zu Isolation und Inseldasein tendiert. Folglich ist Dhárma die rechte Antwort auf die eigene Natur, die eigene Situation und die eigene Beziehung zum Ganzen. (2006:128–29)

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The conspicuously asserted Weltanschauung of ancient Indian philosophy and religious belief has been that, although the units of the realities of the world appear to be asunder, there is at their root a uniting cord to which the Vedic sages gave the nomenclature ‘ṛta’. ṛta is the rhythm of Being and also it is the essence of the human-nature relationship. Cosmic order is a dynamic system of mutually integrated parts. Basically our goal should be in consonance with the cosmic order, its laws of stability and dynamics and the ways and means which promote Dhárma. It is a priori truth that the cosmocentric norma, i.e. ṛta, has to be obeyed, and appeased by means of sacrificial celebrations (yajña) and righteous duties (dhárma) and therefore it is essential for humans to comply with action (karma), to follow the logic of cosmic powers, in order to overcome chaos and calamities. Thus, the concept of Dhárma acquired prime significance through centuries of Indian tradition. Dhárma is viewed as a mode of life or a code of conduct that patterns thinking, motivates the mind and regulates the activities of humans as members of society and as individuals. Religion, culture, art, literature, philosophy, social system, etc. are basically founded upon this central law of being or Dhárma. This has resulted in the proliferation of the meaning of Dhárma in different periods of ancient Indian literary tradition, e.g. the Vedic, Upaniṣadic, Epic and later Buddhist periods. Etymologically ‘Dhárma’ is of Sanskrit, descended from the root ‘dhri,’ which means ‘to sustain’ or ‘to uphold.’ It refers to the substances that sustain the universe or cosmic rhythm, and the principle that upholds humans together, or the righteousness of humans. In the early Vedic period the word Dhárma was conjoined with the term ‘rit’ or ‘ṛta’ and later it had been transformed to Dhárma, which had a moral and normative connotation. During the Upaniṣadic period Dhárma became more prominent as the highest principle of human life. Other than ethical connotation it gained meanings such as austerities, contemplation and learning. Again Dhárma was understood as the duties of the individual in different stages of life (Varṇāśrama-Dhármas11). When it came to the Mahābhārata, the concept of Dhárma gathered a more profound and comprehensive connotation and denotation. Virtues such as righteousness, compassion, duty, conduct, morality, non-violence, etc. were attributed to Dhárma. A quote from the Mahābhārata: He who is the friend of all, is devoted to the good of all through action, mind and speech, know Dhárma … The true and eternal Dhárma is non-maliciousness towards all creatures in action, mind and speech as well as compassion and gifts. (Mahābhārata, Shanti Parva—IX, 261, 21.62)

The Mahābhārata maintains that only Dhárma can make human beings superior to other beings and sustains the universe, particularly society, by establishing order.

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Therefore, it places Dhárma as a stepping stone to mokṣa when it speaks about the four chief ends or aims of human life (Puruṣārtha): wealth (artha), pleasure (Kāma), righteousness (dhárma) and spiritual liberation (mokṣa). There is no precise Western equivalent to the Eastern concept of Dhárma. A comprehensive meaning of many concepts together, for example: morality, values, order, righteousness, ethics, duty, etc., would throw some light on Dhárma in understanding its richness. According to the Indian Weltanschauung, in order that we fulfill our role in the divine play we must behave within our Dhárma. Thus, the concept of Dhárma encompasses all aspects of Indian life.

Darśan (Seeing) Weltanschauung From time immemorial the Hindu mind has been more inclined to ‘seeing’ (darśan) than ‘hearing.’ The Semitic tradition, on the contrary, bases its whole outlook mainly on ‘hearing,’ i.e. hearing the word of God and responding to it as the criterion of spiritual disposition. This difference in worldviews is clearly reflected in the art, literature, religion and daily life of both traditions extending to the present day. The Hindus going to temple for worship will say that they go for ‘darśan.’ Just to get the vision of the image of the deity is for Hindus fundamentally worship. There doesn’t exist any necessary coherence that one must recite prayers or hear the prayers of the liturgical assembly. It is a reciprocal act of ‘seeing’ the deity and ‘being seen’ by the deity or the deity ‘gives darśan’ (darśan dena) and the devotee ‘takes darśan’ (darśan lena). Eck reflects on this aspect of the Indian tradition: Darśan is sometimes translated as the “auspicious sight” of the divine, and its importance in the Hindu ritual complex reminds us that for Hindus “worship” is not only a matter of prayers and offerings and the devotional disposition of the heart. Since, in the Hindu understanding, the deity is present in the image, the visual apprehension of the image is charged with religious meaning. Beholding the image is an act of worship, and through the eyes one gains the blessings of the divine. (Eck 2007:3)

This concept of darśan permeates the whole horizon of the Indian mind—how one looks at reality, how one perceives reality and how one handles reality. The iconic polytheism (against the biblical myth of aniconic monotheism), visual and colourful splendour, precedence of the spatial aspect rather than the temporal, preference for concrete and particular epiphanies rather than abstract and otherworldly, visionary culture, knowing also as an act of seeing (seers or ṛsis) etc. are loud enough to show the impact of darśan Weltanschauung on the Indian ethos. “The images and myths of the Hindu imagination constitute a basic cultural vocabulary and a common idiom of discourse” (Eck 2007:17). Imagery vision is an Indian myth which forms

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a common worldview that gives people a basic unity in the midst of geographical, cultural, racial and religious diversities. There are enormous amounts of customs, practices, rituals and beliefs connected with darśan in the day-to-day life of Indians. They are not something abstract and otherworldly, but all the more concrete, particular and context-sensitive. There the “seeing” is neither an act of collecting data nor a passive vision of an object. It is an active participation in the particularities of the object—it may be the divinity of the deity, or the sainthood of a sadhu, or the holiness of a pilgrim place, or the first glimpse on the house-deity in the early morning, or looking at the Bollywood stars with awe, wonder and devotion, etc. The eyes of the deities are depicted with an extraordinary and powerful gaze in the later Hindu tradition. The eyes are the final part of the anthropomorphic image to be carved or set in place. Darśan is a going forth of sight towards the object and sight touches it and acquires its form. Touch is the ultimate connection by which the visible yields to being grasped. Darśan is not only a form of “touching,” but also a form of knowing. In India the “seers” are known as ṛsis—men of insight and vision, and even Indian culture is characterised as ārsabharatha (related to ṛsis or seers) samskāra (culture). In the Rig Vedic hymns, “to see” often means a “mystical, supernatural beholding,” or “visionary experiencing.” Darśan is an ‘auspicious sight,’ ‘sacred seeing’ or ‘sacred perception’ and ‘visual thinking.’ The six philosophical traditions of ancient Indian origin are known as Darśanas,12 not as philosophical systems or schools. They are traditional wisdoms of looking at reality or truth from different angles and therefore they are “insights” or “points of view,” according to which philosophising is an activity of image-making on a particular subject of reality. When we say India is a land of images, myths and stories that implies and affirms the fact that the Indian mind trusts eyes more than ears. The religious and literary traditions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam have trusted the Word and thereby “hearing” as a prime mediator of divine truth. On the other hand, every sphere of Indian tradition has been marked by darśan and it continues to be a vibrant force contributing much to the day-to-day life of the people and especially to the world of visuals, images, colours and varieties of life. The Biblical narrative yielding to the categories of literature prepares the ground for an ordinary Indian reader/appreciator with Indian Weltanschauung to venture forth to new ways of an Indian reading of the Bible. An awareness in this regard of the lacuna of the present Indian exegetical locus will guide this study through the coming topics.

chapter two

Locating Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra and Modern Western Narratology

Since the West has already widened its scope of Narratology, a short appraisal of it will serve as a good overture to an attempt to open up a discussion on Indian Narratology and poetics and consequently on the viability of applying them to the biblical narrative. The classical age of Indian Kāvya Śāstra has a long history of evolution which developed a stupendous system of narratological approach to literature. As a result, different theories of poetics came into being which should not be considered as isolated literary enterprises. One school or poetical purport or literary tradition paved the way for the succeeding ones. They were mutually contributing and enriching. In this way we have to look at the ancient classical age of Indian poetics.

Locating Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra The Classical Age of Indian Kāvya Śāstra Indian poetics or literary criticism, which flourished in classical Sanskrit, has a long and multifarious tradition. It is marked by an uninterrupted growth and diversification of about two thousand years, i.e. from the 3rd century BCE to the 17th century CE. The name Kāvya Śāstra first appears in the famous work of Bhojadeva,

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the Saraswathikandabharanam, around the 11th century CE.1 Already at the time of the Rāmāyaṇa, there was some reference to it as Kriyākalpa.2 The earlier major works on Poetics were generally designated Kāvyālaṅkāra or Alaṅkāraśāstra3 (e.g. the works of Bhāmah, Vāmana and Rudrata). Kāvya Śāstra is the principle and science of literary criticism, which has another name, Sāhityavidya or simply Sāhitya. The word Sāhitya is a derivative of sāhita meaning coherence or together.4 Literary criticism, in the Sanskrit tradition, has been understood to be a Śāstra, which means any systematic, well-formulated body of knowledge. A Śāstric exposition is supposed to involve three different kinds of inquiry: (1) padārthamīmāṁsā: Inquiry into the nature of substances or the categories of knowledge, (2) śabda-mīmāṁsā: Inquiry into the nature of language, since language is the invariable medium in which knowledge is formulated, and (3) prāmāṇya-mīmāṁsā: Inquiry into the validity of critical statements (Chari 1993:3–4). Literature is concerned with the artist as creator while literary criticism is concerned with the reader as appreciator. Since every piece of literature has to find its proper place in the mind of the ideal reader, it is possible to think of literary appreciation itself as a process of secondary creation. However, there were people who had great concern over the theoretical activism. One of the earliest Sanskrit rhetoricians, Bhāmah, maintains5 that if Kāvya requires explanatory interpretation like śāstra; then it would indeed be a matter of great regret for the common man. Sanskrit literary criticism developed hand in hand with Sanskrit literary works. Although the Sanskrit language was dominant in the literary scenario, the other vernacular languages were current among the people at large. The literature in those languages also gained much attention of Sanskrit Poetics6 and therefore it could be taken as a generic term for Indian literary theories in common. ‘Sanskrit Poetics’ is a misnomer in that all the ancient and medieval Indian literary theorists considered, examined and quoted from the creative writings composed in not only the then major Indian languages as Saṃskrṭa, Prākṛta, Apabhraṁśa, Paiśācī, etc., but also the various dialects spoken by the masses scattered across the country. Besides, the theorists took into account the imaginative literature irrespective of the caste, creed, province, religion and sex of the writers. Thus, the ancient Indian literary theorists were catholic in their outlook and their poetics was Indian or rather national, besides being secular. (Lele 1999:17)

Investigation into the theory of literature emerged even before the beginning of the Common Era.7 Emphasis shifted in the course of time from one theory to another and from one school to the next. The criteria of good literature and the nature of aesthetic delight were always at the helm of literary discourse. In many instances, there arose a group of writers who subscribed to a particular view and

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this resulted in the formation of ‘schools’ of critical thought. A thread of continuity is seen running through all of them, and the ideas of one school pave the way for and merge into the ideas of a successive school. Primarily the shifting of emphasis marked the division into different schools of thought. Ancient Indian poetics, on the one hand, deals with various topics pertaining to grammar, phonetics, semantics, semiotics, aesthetics, rhetoric, prosody, etc. and on the other hand, the philosophical treatises of language.8 They were genuine attempts to explore the outer structure and inner qualities of sound and sense, style and tone, word and meaning, rhetoric and rhyme, mood and color, melody and harmony, etc. About thirty standard treatises on poetics can be found in the classical period. They are also very rich and profound in the vast horizon of Indian literary tradition, but in a different manner than the Védas and the Epics. Bharata’s Nāṭyaśāstra (100 BCE–100 CE) is the earliest enduring work which sets the ground and the parameters for Sanskrit Poetics. The extent of such parameters in historical and literary points of view will be the subject matter of the following subdivisions. There an attempt is made to show how from the simple beginning various theories about Poetics evolved. Studious and methodological exposition of various topics of Kāvya literature has been undertaken by the great luminaries of Kāvya Śāstra. They gave deep insights into the characteristics of good literature and deliberated at length on varying aspects, principles and theories pertaining to kāvya. As a result of this process of theorising, there arose right through the centuries enormous schools of thought and literary traditions. To delineate them in detail—the authors and their works and the theories they propounded—is a laborious task and all the more, it does not come under the purview of this study. As far as this study is concerned, the main concepts of Indian Poetics which made great impact on the literary tradition in general and which gave strong impetus to literary study in particular, are of importance. Therefore, taking into account the prominence the theories gained in the respective era and tradition, one could classify the authors into two groups: The Masterminds and The Compilers or The Commentators. This classification is arbitrary and it does not exhaust the long list of theoreticians. Moreover, most of them were proponents of more than one theory which are mutually inclusive.

The Masterminds of Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra Those theoreticians who introduced new poetical concepts or developed fullfledged theories out of already existing poetical concepts are esteemed to be the masterminds. They were seen in relation to the seven concepts which were substantiated as a result of the process of theorising—Rasa, (Aesthetic Relish), Alaṅkāra

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(Embellishment), Guṇa (Characteristic), Rīti (Style), Dhvani (Suggestion), Vakrokti (Deviance) and Aucitya (Propriety). Bharata pioneered in presenting a full-fledged work on poetics with his Nāṭyaśāstra. The poetics dealt with in the Nātyaśāstra is solely concerned about drama (vācikābhinaya). However, one chapter of it has been devoted to the theory of rasa which gave momentum to the subsequent study on poetics. Later on it was Bhāmah who brought out a full extent work that deals with poetics proper in his Kāvyālaṅkāra. He developed alaṅkāra (embellishment) as a separate school. The next noteworthy poetical contribution was of Dāṇḍin through his work Kāvyādarśa which first proposed the concepts of guṇa and rīti. Then Ānandavardhana’s Dhvanyāloka took poetical deliberations to new heights, that of dhvani and rasadhvani. The succeeding two schools, namely, vakrokti by Kuntaka and aucitya by Kṣemendra, were to some extent significant, although they could not make much currency in the later poetical discussions. The other theoreticians compiled or expanded those poetical concepts expounded by the above-mentioned ones and some other concepts of less importance or that were mere replications of already existing ones. The main concepts will be dealt with in detail in the next chapter.

Figure 9.  Masterminds of Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra.

The Compilers or the Commentators of Kāvya Śāstra Each compiler or commentator organizes and interprets the elements common to the tradition in a systematic way which differs from each of the others. Their treatises on poetic theory are remarkable by their homogeneity and variety of approaches. In the case of some commentators, their commentaries on the particular concepts of poetics superseded those of the original masterminds of the respective theory or theories. Since this study does not require all the details of those compilers and commentators, only the names worth mentioning are listed. A diagram will suffice to show a general picture of the literary criticism extending through many centuries in the Indian literary tradition.

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Poeticist

Lifetime

Main Poetical Work

Udbhaṭa

8th c. CE

Kāvyālaṅkārasaṁgraha

Bhaṭṭa Lollata

8 c. CE

(works not available)

Rudrata

9th c. CE

Kāvyālaṅkāra

Vamana

9th c. CE

Kāvyālaṅkārasūtra

Śri Śaṇkuka

9 c. CE

(works not available)

Bhaṭṭa Nāyaka

10th c. CE

Hṛdayadarpaṇa (not available)

Hēmacandra

10th c. CE

Kāvyānuśāsana

Bhaṭṭa Tauta

10 c. CE

Kāvyakautuka

Abhinavagupta

10th c. CE

Abhinavbhāratī and Locana

Dhanjaya

10th c. CE

Daśrūpa

Rājaśekhara

10 c. CE

Kāvyamīmāṁsā

Mammata

11th c. CE

Kāvyaprakāśa

Mahimabhaṭṭa

11th c. CE

Vyaktiviveka

Rājā Bhoja

11 c. CE

Śṛṅgāraprakāśa

Viśvanātha

14th c. CE

Sāhityadarpaṇa

Paṇditarāja Jagannātha

17th c. CE

Rasagaṅgādhara

th

th

th

th

th

Figure 10.  The Compilers or the Commentators of Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra.

Locating Modern Western Narratology The Historical Evolution of Narratology as an Academic Discipline The recent studies show that it would be a futile effort to go for a single-line history of Narratology, for the very reason that it was never a monolithic discipline and there has been existing a great diversity and proliferation of approaches, plurality of models and a plethora of new theoretical approaches. The actual evolution and development of narrative theory cannot begin to be grafted onto the master narrative of critical theory as told by the poststructuralists. Indeed, the story of modern narrative theory does not fit well into the frame of any narrative history. There are far too many story strands, loose ends, abrupt turns, and unmotivated reappearances of forgotten figures and theoretical approaches to fit easily within any one narrative structure. The history of modern narrative theory is more accurately

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depicted as a cluster of contiguous histories rather than a single, comprehensive narrative. (Richardson 2000:172)

In this context, it would be worth pursuing a history of Narratology which is centrifugal rather than centripetal. Narrative can be taken as the centre from which, of which and about which the academic and scientific enterprise of theorizing the literary characteristic of narrative genre accrued. Therefore, this study would portray a broad picture of the historical developments concerning narrative theories or narrative studies or narratological criticism, although all of them do not necessarily come under the umbrella of Narratology. A Retrospection to Plato and Aristotle—Offset of Narrative Reflection The etymon of Narratology can be alluded to Plato’s (428–348 BC) and Aristotle’s (384–322 BC) distinction between ‘mimesis’ (imitation) and ‘diegesis’ (narration). According to Aristotle, narrative structure is comprised of two elements: fable or plot (actions) and character (moral qualities). He describes them as arising from “the objects of the dramatic imitation” (Poetics, 1450a, line 10). Plato makes a distinction between lexis (the manner of speaking) and logos (the content of the thought or of what is said). Both diegesis (ordinary narration in poet’s own words) and mimesis (an imitation in indirect discourse of another speaking) are placed under the category of lexis. Semiology by Ferdinand de Saussure—Offspring of All Narrative Theoretical Investigations of the 20th Century The Swiss linguist Ferdinand de Saussure (1857–1913) could be regarded as the founding father of structuralism or the father of 20th century linguistics. Out of his innovative approach in the discussion of linguistic phenomena sprouted many of the significant developments in linguistics in the 20th century.9 His lecture-notes, which he prepared as the professor of General Linguistics in Geneva, came forth posthumously in 1916. His famous work, Course in General Linguistics (Course de linguistique générale), was edited by his students Charles Bally and Albert Schehaye. In his linguistic investigation, the focus was placed not on the use of language (parole), but rather on the underlying system of language (langue) about which he coined his theory, semiology.10 According to him a narrative text consists of complex linguistic signs and he distinguishes them as ‘signifier’ and ‘signified.’11 In a narrative, the ‘signifier’ is a ‘discourse’ (discours)— the means of communication in verbal or non-verbal form, and the ‘signified’ is a ‘story’ (histoire)—the sequence of actions, happenings, details of setting and characters. This Saussurian distinction gave two basic orientations to future narratological investigations: discourse Narratology and story Narratology.12

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Russian Formalism—Latent Potential of Narratology A latent potential of Narratology can be unearthed from Russian Formalism which was prevalent in Russia from the 1910s to the 1930s. The masterminds of Russian Formalism (Viktor Shklovsky, Yuri Tynianov, Boris Eichenbaum, Roman Jakobson, Grigory Vinokur) were of the view that literature is to be viewed as an object of art itself and as different from everyday speech and objects and as a mechanism of language which is fictile to analysis of and in itself and as an organism of interrelated parts and as a system working on certain principles. Later Vladimir Propp’s Morphology of the Folk Tale (First published in Moscow in 1928; English translation, Laurence Scott, University of Texas Press, 1968) anticipated many of the methods of narratological analysis in its breakdown of a corpus of Russian folk tales into a finite number of constituent parts: thirty-one different morphological functions (mostly plot twists) and seven “spheres of action” (mostly characters). “Stripping narrative down to their bare bones in this way was to become one of the mainstays of narratological analysis, but this step, arguably, was not the work’s most decisive methodological breakthrough” (Rudrum 2002). Russian Formalism wielded great influence on French Structuralism, particularly on the works of Roland Barthes, Mikhail Bakhtin and Yuri Lotman. French Structuralism of the 1960s and 1970s—Forerunner of Narratology French Structuralism was a movement which emerged in France in the late 1960s and early 1970s, gathering inspiration from Ferdinand de Saussure, Roman Jakobson of the Prague School of Linguistics13 and Russian Formalism. Early exponents of French Structuralism are Claude Lévi-Strauss, Roland Barthes, Jacques Lacan, Louis Althusser, Jacques Derrida and Michel Foucault. Structuralism as a movement in general embraces all disciplines such as humanities, social science, economics, anthropology, sociology, epistemology, psychology, etc. But structuralism as an academic discipline is mostly applied to linguistic studies. The underlying invariant structure of the narrative material is being analysed and explored by structuralism, thanks to its high theorisation, profound methodology and rigorous systematisation. Structuralist (Classical) Narratology The above-mentioned academic developments in narrative studies under the auspices of Structuralist schools paved the way for a distinctive theory called “Narratology.” It took a new turn by the publication of a special issue of the French journal Communications (1966) with the articles exclusively dealing with the theme “The structural analysis of narrative.” But only in the year 1969 did the term “Narratology” first appear in academic circles. The mastermind behind it was Tzvetan

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Todorov, one of the writers of the above issue, who defined it as “la science du récit” (science of narrative) in his essay “Grammaire du Décaméron.” The structuralist such as Claude Lévi-Strauss, Roland Barthes, Jacques Lacan, Louis Althusser, Jacques Derrida, Michel Foucault, et al. kept the discussion on this particular science alive and gave more flesh and blood to it. It is Gérard Genette who adapted the vocabularies and concepts from the prevalent structuralist movement and reintroduced them in a manner more accepted and which attained widespread popularity internationally. Narratology under the domain of Structuralism has grown as a unified discipline and as a well-structured and described grammar of narrative focusing on the universal structure and form of narrative, synchronic dimension of the poetics of narrative and taxonomy of narrative techniques. As a well-defined theory it was more text-centered and ahistorical than context-oriented; and it engaged itself in bringing out the minute features and properties of a text, showing keen interest in binarism and inherent systems which are considered as closed, static and invariable. Poststructuralist (Postclassical) Narratology Narratology embarked on a new phase which is characterized by tremendous expansion and diversification that resulted in the plethora of sub-disciplines. Beginning in the 1990s extending up to the present one can clearly mark a transition from structuralism to post-structuralism. Such a twist in the history of Narratology is seen by the narratologist as “the Revival of Narrative” (Burke), “Narratology’s Centrifugal Force” (Barry), the “narrativist turn” (Nünning), etc.14 Narratology is no longer seen as a monolithic discipline or an exclusive structuralist enterprise, or a unified model of narrative analysis (Narratology in singular form). On the contrary, we will encounter at every phase of its modern history, a centrifugal force which is heading towards the greener pastures of the narrative world branching out a great diversity of new approaches (Narratologies in plural form).15 In this sense, Postclassical Narratology can be understood as a set of theoretical positions on narrative which in its substantial ideological component stands out of Structuralism, although which is consequent upon it. Notwithstanding the complexity of the varying approaches, they subscribe to some common features. Mainly Postclassical Narratology deplores the totalizing, essentialist, foundationalist concepts16 and moves towards the realization that there exists an intrinsic and intimate interaction between a particular text and its cultural context and which necessitates the accommodation of different interpretive choices and reading strategies and openness to integration and synthesis and diachronic dimension of the poetics of narrative.17 The short survey on the gradual emergence of Narratology as an academic and scientific discipline extending a period from Plato and Aristotle to the present

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gives a clear picture of the growing awareness of the dynamics of narrative and its impact on the effort to rediscover the ancient and modern narratives.

The Proprium of Narrative An attempt in search of the proper constituent elements of narrative is a muddled path, in large part because a tremendous shift in the concept of narrative has taken place and is still underway. A recent study puts it rightly: “In recent years the concept of narrative has become strikingly prominent in literary theory and in cognitive psychology, theology, jurisprudence, and many other disciplines. History tells us, however, that an increase in a concept’s popularity does not make its definition any clearer, and narratology is no exception to this rule” ( Jannidis, in Kindt and Müller (eds.) 2003:35). But I am of the opinion that it cannot be counted as its weakness but, all the more, it is a clear sign of its dynamism and its profundity. Since language itself comes under the domain of mystery, a scientific study on narrative is at the same time a process of abstraction and extraction. Such a process has been vigorously undertaken by almost all great exponents of Narratology. Roland Barthes gives a descriptive idea about narrative: There are countless forms of narrative in the world. First of all, there is a prodigious variety of genres, each of which branches out into a variety of media, as if all substances could be relied upon to accommodate man’s stories. Among the vehicles of narrative are articulated language, whether oral or written, pictures, still or moving, gestures, and an ordered mixture of all these substances; narrative is present in myth, legend, fables, tales, short stories, epics, history, tragedy, drama [suspense drama], comedy, pantomime, paintings (in Santa Ursula by Carpaccio, for instance), stainedglass windows, movies, local news, conversation. Moreover, in this infinite variety of forms, it is present at all times, in all places, in all societies; indeed narrative starts with the very history of mankind; there is not, there has never been anywhere, any people without narrative; all classes, all human groups have their stories, and very often those stories are enjoyed by men of different and even opposite cultural backgrounds: narrative remains largely unconcerned with good or bad literature. Like life itself, it is there, international, transhistorical, transcultural. (Barthes 1975:237)

Later Narratologists went on further beyond this simple description of Barthes’s to make the concept of narrative more concrete. Among these, Gerald Prince’s attempt warrants special attention. “A redefinition of narrative, taking the preceding into account is called for: narrative is the representation of at least two real or fictive events or situations in a time sequence, neither of which presupposes or entails the other” (Prince 1982:4). This definition could be conceived as more analytical and all-embracing rather than merely descriptive. Here one can identify

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three main features of a narrative: (1) A Narrative is a representation: Representation of a particular reality through varied media of communication, e.g. texts, films, paintings, etc., (2) Association of temporal and spatial elements: This representation is woven in a framework of time and space which prepares a pulpit to make causal association of more than one event, and (3) Presupposition and implication of connected events are not requisite: Events arranged in a chronological sequence need not necessarily presuppose or entail each another. The two specimens of definitions on narrative given above are to show the evolution of the understanding of narrative as a literary genre taking place among Narratologists time and again. One or the other aspect of narrative is accorded predominance by each narratological school and which opens up a study on the wide range of narrative concepts such as events, characters, setting, plot, story (histoire) and discourse (discours),18 signifier and signified,19 text, fabula and sjuzhet,20 theme, narrator,21 narrating (histoire) and narrated (récit),22 lexis and logos,23 speech-act,24 Geschehen (events) and Geschichte (story), parole and langue,25 etc. Since a detailed study on all the theoretical abstractions of narratological concepts does not pertain to this paper, I may go further to engage myself with the question, what could be the objective of a narratological approach to the stories, especially as far as I am concerned, to the stories of the Old Testament? Some of them are spelled out below:

The Possible Objectives of Narratology Study of Narrative in View of the Appreciation of the Literary Genre In a broad sense, narratology is the theoretical and critical study of the literary genre which unfolds itself in various forms of narrative discourses. Gerald Prince writes: “The goals of narratology are clear: to discover, describe and explain the mechanics of narrative, the elements responsible for its form and functioning” (Prince 1982:163). Therefore, the narratological approach pays more attention to the narrative structure and its effect on the moulding and making of narratives. Narrative structure is one which provides the narrative text with unique character. Narratology is a scientific discipline which makes a breakthrough in unearthing the complexity of narrative structure with the intention of its critical appreciation. A reference to the Swiss linguist Ferdinand de Saussure and Mieke Bal makes it clearer: “In Saussurian terms, the study of narrative poetics sets out to describe the system of features observable in narrative texts as Saussure set out to observe the systematic features (la langue) of ordinary oral discourse. Bal describes this as the development of descriptive “tools” which make possible insight in the abstract narrative system” (White 1991:7).

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Study of Narrative in the Investigation of Meaning Narratives are the primary means through which the meaning—the meaning of physical and metaphysical realities—is assimilated and imparted. “All forms of narrative share the fundamental interest in making sense of experience, the interest in constructing and communicating meaning” (Chase, in Josselson and Lieblich (eds.) 1995:1). The experience which is expressed in and through the narrative and which constructs a particular world of meaning may not necessarily be a lived experience. It could be also intuitive, for example, the narratives based on fantasy or prophesy. Here the meaning is conceived in the various forms of narrative frameworks and discourses such as dramas, novels, signs, symbols, myths, etc. How narratology offers insights into such an endeavour of semantic analysis has been deliberated upon by Gerald Prince in his book Narratology, The Form and Functioning of Narrative: Most generally, Narratology gives us an insight into the principles governing systems of signs and signifying practices as well as our interpretation of them. To study the nature of all and only possible narratives, to account for their form and functioning, to examine how and why it is that we can construct them, paraphrase them, summarize them and expand them, or organize them in terms of such categories as plot, narrator, narrate, and character is to study one of the fundamental ways—and a singularly human one at that—in which we make sense. Ultimately, Narratology can help us understand what human beings are. (1982:164)

The narratological approach takes the challenge to open up the world of meaning which is inbuilt, integral and interrelated to the narrative structure and form. Study of Narrative in the Realm of Religious Experience Old Testament narratives, the study of which is the main intent of this book, are the great treasures of religious experiences. Personal or communitarian experiences in a religious blueprint are told and retold in narrative form. Every single form of narrative takes shape in a process of selection, determination, formal or informal ordering, and such a process is motivated and oriented towards an envisioned theme. Vocabularies, genres, myths, signs, symbols, metaphors, etc. integrated and incorporated into the mainstream culture of the particular time serve as the raw materials for the formation of narrative and provide a shared platform to imbibe the religious experience. Narrativity of religious experience plays the key role by its linguistic vivacity to enrich the socio-religious domain of humans with meaning, dynamism, continuity and momentum. Such importance to the narrative feature of religious experience calls Narratology into action by sociologists and theologians.

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The narrative approach, while not denying that religious experiences have an objective existence, suggests that because experiencing is an ongoing temporal flow, its objective existence is fleeting. By the time the individual comes to understanding the experience, it has passed. What remains is the memory, the interpretation, the linguistification, the recounting, the emplotment, the narrativization. This is the “data” which sociologists must study. (Yamne 2000:184)

Narratology with its literary tools can definitely throw more light on the narratives which contain religious experiences which have been handed down through centuries. The Study of Narrative as an Initiation and an Impulse in Learning the Art of Language Strictly speaking, narratology is an academic discipline confined to literary critics. But at the same time, it pervades every aspect of language, and language is primarily the substrata of knowledge. The fundamental terms of Narratology, i.e. “narrative” and “story,”26 can be etymologically traced back to the meaning “to know.” It is an art of organising the materiel, which contains events, plots, characters, actions, time, space, etc. in such a way that it communicates knowledge of some kind in and through various literary genres, so that the receiver comes to know and grasp the reality narrated. Narratology, then, is an initiation and impulse to get into this art and learn how the richness and dynamism of language can be fully explored and exploited in communicating knowledge. The narratological approach to the already existing text will be the laboratory of learning the art of language. The more we understand the nature and form of narrative, the more we will be able to apprehend this art. It is achieved through the narratological theories which furnish feasible tools to work on factors which constitute narrative. The workability of it is explained by Gerald Prince: … it was further established that degrees of legibility and Narrativity depend on a set of well-defined textual and contextual factors. This is, I think, rewarding in itself for it leads from disorder to fundamental order. It is also enlightening. These rules and factors can help us define the specificity of any given narrative since this specificity is a function of the factors obtaining, the rules exploited, and the mode of their exploitation. They can help us compare, in addition, any two (sets of ) narratives and institute narrative classes according to narratively pertinent features. (Prince 1982:163)

Since Narratology is concerned with both the universality and the specificity of narrative which is governed by various textual and contextual factors, rules, organisation, association, etc., a study on narrative will help us to command mastery over the formal writing task and the encoding of the world of experience and knowledge, more precisely, story- or history-making.

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The Study of Narrative for Theologising in Indian Context For theologising in Indian context, the exploration of the rich treasures of Indian narrative and the scientific study of its narrative attributes are very much significant. It is just because India has got a religious tradition of storytelling. Stories in various forms of narratives function as main carriers of religious experience and ethos. What they believe, they narrate in stories, and what is narrated in stories they believe. The traditional dogmatic and metaphysical approach to theology by the West has been ruled out by the modern Christian theologians in Asian context. It can be seen as an outcome of the reflections on biblical narrative by the non-foundationalist or non-structuralist who believes that religious experiences are culturally conditioned and the language through which the narrative is formed is culture-specific. “Religious language, insofar as it is also a language, is experience-based and culturally conditioned. … It is we as humans, not as God or angels, who perceive and realize that particular kind of experience as divine experience. And it is by means of culturally formed and conditioned language that we seek to express it” (Chan 1998:23). Religious language brings out the religious dimension of common human experience shared by a particular community irrespective of their religious affiliation. Therefore, an indigenous narratological approach or an Indian way of theoretical extraction and exploration of the narrative language is called for.

Narratology on the Threshold of New Horizons Narratology is certainly on the threshold of new horizons. But the same fact brings forth a fundamental question, “What is Narratology?” anew because of the astounding proliferation of new approaches out of it on all horizons. Therefore, the Narratology Research Group at the University of Hamburg found it so pressing to hold an International Symposium (from 23 to 25 May 2002) on the same question. The papers of the symposium have been brought out as a book which deliberates the concerned question thoroughly. An Annotation by the Editors of the book makes the relevance of the topic clear: “What makes the question ‘What is Narratology?’ so pressing? The problem lies not in a lack of plausible answers to the question, but precisely in the abundance of such answers” (Kindt and Müller 2003:v). It has become a laborious task to the genuine research efforts concerned about the scientific status of Postclassical Narratology to bridge the gap among such a superfluity of answers. “It is arguably an open question whether all or even most of the new approaches have all that much in common with the systematic study of narrative known as ‘narratology’, which has been defined as the ‘science of narrative’(Todorov)” (Nünning, in Kindt and Müller (eds.) 2003:240). To make it more complicated the scientific status of Narratology itself has become a matter of contention. “So what is Narratology—approach, praxis,

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project, school, sub-discipline, discipline, science? And/or which Narratology is what? The merits of these and similar attempts at reviewing narratology’s history and outlining its potential future development need not be reemphasised” (Meister, in Kindt and Müller (eds.) 2003:56). The merits of similar painstaking attempts have already produced results, mainly in the way of unearthing the problem by real case-study and critical assessment and of laying out some guidelines and proposals without prejudice. I would like to present an overview of it through a figure given below. Critical Reassessment

Modest Proposals

Over-simplification of the poetics of Narratology.

The poetics of narrative ‘contingent upon the boundaries of narrative.’ (Gérard Genette)

Lack of coherence of the discipline.

Require ‘a well-defined object of study and well-defined goals for the discipline.’ (Gerald Prince)

Intolerance towards the diversity of approaches.

Make room for a considerable amount of diversity. (Gerald Prince)

Confusion exists in distinguishing Narratology as a particular kind of narrative theory.

Draw a clear terminological distinction between Narratology proper and applications of Narratology, e.g. narratological criticism. (Ansgar Nünning)

Contamination, ideological infiltration, and degeneration of narratology by cross-fertilization through intertheoretical alliances.

Differentiate more clearly between key terms like narrative studies, narrative theory, narratology and narratological criticism. (Ansgar Nünning)

Over-concerned about integration and synthesis.

Accept the unbridgeable differences between the various new approaches.

The defining characteristics of narratology Need to subscribe to a sort of narratologisuch as theorization, methodological cal fundamentalism. (Ansgar Nünning) rigour, explicitness, systematicity, etc. are lacking. Because of over-compartmentalisation the exploration of many important parallels between different approaches has been ignored (e.g. between humanistic and socio-scientific).

Align the work more closely with research initiatives entering on the sociointeractional foundations of intelligence; more precisely, study how narrative functions as a powerful and basic tool for thinking. (David Herman)

The “disciplinary foundations” of Narratology have not even been laid. (Meir Sternberg)

Sketch a rational modus operandi for formulating narratology’s fundamental concepts under the methodological constraints of disciplinarity. ( Jan Christoph Meister)

Figure 11.  Modern Narratology—Critical Reassessment and Proposals.

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The above sketch clearly shows how the postclassical Narratology is heading towards the future, treading its paths through the academic avenues and crossroads with its strengths and weaknesses and its limitations and potentials. The ongoing discussion arising from an enthusiastic longing for arriving at a consensus upon the nature of narrative itself and of the theory which will entail all of its sub-disciplines and branches is like the growth of a tree by the process of pruning and neatening against wild growth which may endanger its stem, and at the same time it allows a healthy branching out from the main trunk. Such a growth taking place in the narratological circle will provide Narratology with more scientific and academic footing in its further advancement.

Locating Biblical Narrative in the Realm of Poetics It would be appropriate to ask whether Biblical narrative will fit into the scheme of poetics in general and of Indian Kāvya Śāstra in particular. Within the purview of the general scheme of poetics there are themes such as narrative, narratology, story, storytelling, historiography, etc. Those themes—how they are conceived and how far they are applicable to biblical narrative—should be deliberated upon. Therefore, this section will take a quick look at the scope of poetics in the study of biblical narrative and the manner in which it is extended to the Kāvya Śāstra in the context of the Indian narrative tradition.

Storytelling: The Science of Salvation (Moks·a) Human beings interpret and make sense of their world or form their worldview through stories. All things of human perception find their deepest structural framework in narrative or story of some kind. “Prior to what might be termed the posterior logos of scientific understanding and scholarly writing, there is the prior logos of narrative discourse. People tell stories of the creation of the world long before they begin to construct a mathematical physics” (Navone/Cooper 1981: 35–36). It is not by abstract principles that a person principally makes sense of his/her world, but by stories emerging from individual and collective experiences. Narrative expression of such experiences forms the science of salvation or liberation, or mokṣa, according to the Indian concept. Every area of discipline has got its own science and every science has its own way of exposition. Storytelling is the privileged and profound way of exposing the science of salvation. The human experience is the raw material of this science and it is being refined, reproduced and re-enacted through storytelling, and thereby the science of salvation takes its form. There is no other way to expose this science than

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by narrating human experiences implying the sociological, soteriological, epistemological and eschatological planes. Language, literature and culture are ways of communication, introspection and preservation of what is vital in a community of shared experiences. While language helps communication, literature promotes introspection upon the correspondences and relationships of its constituents in a creative way. This narrating activity is a continuous process where the mystery is unfolded. When one narrates a story which is the product of human experience, then the science of salvation unfolds itself and one gets closer to the mystery of human existence and the universe. The Bible is the story of God and the world. The story of the world is above all the story of God’s activity in creating, sustaining, and redeeming the world. “Some even regarded scripture as a ‘historical growth’ that instantiated the ‘same powers of development, the same law of evolution’ as that which was displayed in nature” (Harrison 2010:93). Prolific studies have been done on the Bible and its stories. The Bible can be seen as a grand narrative. “The story stands as a unit in at least one stage of its history. The burden of proof lies therefore on the person who wants to argue that the unity is synthetic” (Coats, 1976:60). The science of salvation lies in this synthetic unity where different points of view merge and progress towards the fulfilment, revealing the mysteries of the physical and metaphysical world. The resulting narrative is one with depth and sophistication; one in which conflicting viewpoints may vie for validity. It is this that gives biblical narrative interest and ambiguity. The reader of such narrative is not a passive recipient of a story, but an active participant in trying to understand it. (Berlin 1983:82)

Active participation in the process of understanding is a movement to the realm of interpretation and there the poetics may be a bridge from the narrative to its interpretation. This process of understanding is implied in the storytelling and the storytelling in turn defines the science of salvation. The economy of salvation unfolded in the Bible finds its best expression in the art of storytelling. It is mainly because story helps us put things together and thereby our world of understanding is open to concepts and ideas of salvation. Storytelling prevails upon us to experience and look at the world in a much deeper way, and it gives meaning to the concepts of salvation by opening our mind, arousing curiosity, challenging our way of thinking and approach to the realities around, and encouraging a willingness to explore all possibilities. It offers a unique opportunity to infuse all confluent and conflicting elements into a grand narrative framework. The ancient Biblical, as well as Indian traditions, have amply proved that stories work well with the realities and concepts of salvation. It is being achieved through the art of applying the methods and tools of poetics.

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Poetics Towards the Appreciation of Biblical Narrative Poetics aims to bring to light the edifice of literature. If the edifice can be properly exposed, then the reader will be in a better position to discover what a particular text means and will be able to appreciate it in its entirety. Poetics in itself is not an interpretative art, but it aids interpretation. Berlin proposes an interesting analogy to differentiate poetics from literary criticism or interpretation. “If literature is likened to a cake, then poetics gives us the recipe and interpretation tells us how it tastes” (1983:15). Then surely the process of extracting the abstract and obscure recipe of the literature by means of narratological tools and devices also pertains to the poetic enterprise. “Poetics, then, is an inductive science that seeks to abstract the general principles of literature from many different manifestations of those principles as they occur in actual literary texts” (Berlin 1983:15). In this way poetics could throw more light on the Biblical narrative as it avails one not only to taste the flavour of literature but also to speculate on the deeper meaning and the ways it will affect the reader and recipient. The sort of poetics laid out here is synchronic. It views the present text as a unity and deals with the text as it is. Dismantling the so-called corrupted fractions of the text in view of retrieving an earlier stage of the text goes against the principles and logic of the synchronic approach. In this respect it can pose some checks and balances to the other critical methods such as historical-criticism. Synchronic poetics of biblical narrative can have a bearing on the historical-criticism of biblical narrative; at the very least it can prevent historical-criticism from mistaking as proof of earlier sources those features which can be better explained as compositional or rhetorical features of the present text. (Berlin 1983:112)

It points to the fact that the study of poetics at work in the biblical texts will equip a person better to be a good appreciator of it. Underestimating the importance and the role of poetics and making historical and scientific enquiries into the text can only provide more information, but not give the real flavour of the text. The biblical scholarship of recent years has come to the understanding that both synchronic and diachronic approaches should work hand in hand in aiding the exploration of poetics. Re-interpreting and re-adapting the text is an essential nature of the OT narrative composition. The composition progressing this way is not the distortion of the semantic axis but a sign of the living force with which the old message was passed on and adapted to new realities and contexts. Therefore, the way the message is conveyed is very important and the kind of poetics that we discuss looks exactly into that. Accordingly, how the text says something is as important as what it says. In other words, the poetics that engages the biblical narrative should not be just

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hunting for meaning, but it should be the appreciation of the narrative artistry in relation to its function in the literary composition as a whole. This study does not want to limit the scope of Indian poetics under the nomenclature Kāvya Śāstra merely to some structural theories, but it wants to extend it to the emotive, suggestive, pragmatic and aesthetical aspects of biblical narrative. Those aspects are almost neglected even by the biblical scholarship of literary approaches. In fact, the flavour of biblical narrative lies in those aspects. A close reading that takes into account linguistic structure, patterns, plot, character, motifs, recurring devices, usages and narrative techniques such as openings, endings, shifts in scene, etc., has to do with poetics in general. Kāvya Śāstra goes one step further into those subtle aspects which play a vital role in the life of the members of a community and their relationships, and the way they express this in the events that affect them. These are very much reflected in the biblical narrative and, therefore, this study has the conviction that the kind of poetics Kāvya Śāstra engaged in is not something sheerly alien to the poetics of the Bible.

Ancient Hindu and Hebrew Literary Traditions—The Oriental Offshoots The ancient Hindu and Hebrew literary traditions share a common cultural milieu called Oriental. Their common Oriental offshoot does not entail unity or uniformity in their cultural manifestations; on the contrary, it is multifaceted. However, the multifacetedness cannot be seen as a cultural barrier. A serious reader even from an alien culture could set the breadth and width (Vyāsa of Sanskrit concept) of a literary work of art in the horizon of interpretative endeavour. For instance, a Hindu reading of the Old Testament and a Hebraic reading of the Bhagavad Gītā are very much in tune with the Oriental concept of literature. Accordingly, a literary work has a social life independent of the author and, therefore, it is set on the threshold of meaning. A Hebraic reading of the Bible does not exhaust the meaning of the biblical texts; on the other hand, a Hindu reading of the Bible could bring more flesh and blood to the living text. Legrand gives some deep thought to this sociological dimension of the biblical text: The meaning of the text does not pass only through the intention of the author but also through the collective linguistic, cultural and sociological structures of an age and of a milieu. And since the reader himself is penetrated and conditioned by his own “language”, i.e., through it, by his own environment, the simple operation of reading a text raises the whole question of encounter between generations and cultures, of the possibility and problems of communication across the human varieties, of the one and the many in the human kind. When the text is a biblical text, Bible reading and interpretation carry with them the entire problem of Tradition, i.e., of a continuity and unity and yet of freedom and creativity across ages and continents. (1980:105)

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Both ancient Hindu and Hebrew literary traditions have undergone this tension of tradition. However, unity and continuity have never been at the cost of freedom and creativity. This has been proved by various readings of the Bible such as the targumic reading, midrashic reading and Hellenistic reading in the ancient time itself. With respect to the Hindu tradition, the organic growth of Śruti into Smṛti, Sūtra and Śāstra is a typical example of this freedom and creativity. A Dhármic reading of the Mahābhārata epic resulted in the sprouting of the most esteemed scripture, the Bhagavad Gītā. Under new historical perspectives the narrative material is frequently recycled in both traditions. The task of relating the Eastern literary traditions can be justly carried out through the study of poetics. The issues which are common to several literary traditions can find a shared platform in poetics. Indian poetics can throw more light onto the Eastern roots of biblical narrative. The origin, growth, change, and spread of languages, ideas and their various narrative manifestations have many things in common. The poetics of religious narrations, such as hymns and rules for moral guidance and the distant history and early social life they contain, make up a large part of both the ancient Hindu and the Hebrew literatures. The Vedic Hymns resemble both in form and spirit the poems of the Hebrew Psalter; and the spirit of religious awe we find in the Hindu Scriptures is as profound as any we find in the Hebrew Scriptures. Some of the striking affinities marked by the sublime concept of the Supreme Being, the importance of the creative Word, the illustrative Creation-Myths, etc., can provide a proper point of departure to speculate on the way the poetics could tread on through otherwise heterogeneous literary traditions. In every narrative piece there are universal elements and the elements which have only to do with the particular culture. A full-fledged Indian Narratology will not only throw more light onto the narrative richness of Indian literary tradition, but also it will contribute to the better understanding of the other world-literatures such as the Bible in the Indian context. Such cross-cultural comparative aesthetics will in fact allow greater imaginative freedom and interpretative pluralism. A survey on the proprium of narrative and narratology in the West can contribute to an enhanced understanding and appreciation of Indian poetics.

chapter three

The Proposed Models Proper to an Indian Literary Appreciation

The discussion on literary appreciation in the Indian context, as we have so far seen, opens up a plethora of meanings, concepts, models, devices, paradigms, etc. This study treated them not merely in the confines of classical Sanskrit poetics (Kāvya Śāstra), but more in the general framework of Kāvya Śāstra. Kāvya Śāstra in the strict sense deals with several topics relating to grammar, phonetics, aesthetics, semantics, semiotics, rhetoric and prosody on the one hand and, on the other, philosophical analysis of language. This could be seen as more of a synchronic approach. A diachronic approach as well, according to the finding of this study, adorns an important place in the general framework of Indian Kāvya Śāstra. Based on such an insight it proposes four different ways of approaching the process of literary appreciation. They are: (1) The Four-S Model towards Narrative Formation: Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra; (2) The Basic Models of the Indian Narrative Paradigm: Vedic (cryptic), Purāṇic (Mythic) and Itihāsic (Epic); (3) The Main Distinctive Features of Indian Narratology: Interiorisation, Serialisation, Fantasisation, Cyclicalisation, Allegorisation, Anonymisation, Elasticisation of time, Spatialisation, Stylisation and Improvisation; (4) The Classical Constructs of Ancient Kāvya Śāstra: Rasa (Aesthetic Relish), Dhvani (Suggestion) and Alaṅkāra (Embellishment). The first two can be seen as diachronic approaches in the sense that they expose the way the narrative undergoes changes in the course of time, and which will help us to understand better the historical setting of different genres and their

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proper place in the text. The last two can be reckoned to be synchronic in the sense that they are concerned with the narratological setting of a text without considering its historical antecedents. Any narrative can be understood in both of these ways with the tools and devices appropriate to them. The former helps us understand the text’s genesis, whereas the latter aids us in understanding the text semantically. According to Sternberg, the linguist, geneticist, and theologian cannot work in mutual isolation (1985:17). He maintains that the text was produced in a particular historical-cultural situation; knowledge of which is therefore indispensable for a sensitive synchronic reading; and conversely, historical reconstructions of what lies behind a text are dependent upon an accurate literary appreciation of the text’s final form. To account for all the features of the text, as per the findings of this study, one needs tools and devices pertaining to both diachronic and synchronic domains. An integrated modern Indian aesthetics theory should derive its basic principles from ancient Indian Poetics and incorporate aspects arising from the facts of contemporary life. The earlier theories should not be taken mechanically as pundits have done for centuries. The spirit, rather than the letter, of those theories should be employed to provide a means of understanding and interpreting Biblical stories. The ancient Indian literary and poetical concepts amply laid down by the Kāvya Śāstra can bring forth tools and devices powerful enough to handle Biblical narration. There is a great need today for the unfolding of such an Indian approach relevant to the Indian biblical studies and reading. Many of the modern biblical exegetes are more and more of the conviction that a holistic approach to the Bible is indispensable to fathom its full narrative potential and only that can ensure a proper literary appreciation. A comprehensive Indian approach alone can do justice to such an undertaking, especially since the narrative in question, i.e. the Bible, is of ancient origin. Hence, different models, literary paradigms, devices and constructs are delineated in this chapter in view of their application to the biblical (OT) narratives. Such kinds of different approaches will avail them to tackle the variety of challenges posed by the complex nature and content of biblical narratives to the interpreter or appreciator.

The Four-S Model in the Making of a Poetics of Cohesiveness Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra are four phases and faces of the genesis of ancient Indian narrative. Their emerging through different phases and their appearing in various guises cannot be seen chronologically. However, if we take the ancient

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Figure 12.  The Four-S Model.

literature as a whole, there we could easily identify the perfect blending of all the four aspects in the narrative sequence. Śruti provides the subject matter of narrative in its pure naivety; the germ of Śruti goes through the phase of condensation in the process of transmission in Sūtra; both Śruti and Sūtra by their very nature call for embellishment which finds their various expressions in Smṛti; and all three prepare the ground for the flourishing of different sciences related to day-to-day life which find their manifestation in Śāstra. This is a narrative process of giving and taking. One needs the other for its substantiation and fulfilment. That is the strength of narrative and that gives the text narrative unity, integrity and dynamism. When we unearth the narrative diversity, what we see in the Four-S Model in a text such as the Bible, there is the possibility of looking at it as discrepancies and dislocations. Historical Criticism has the temptation to slip into that pitfall. On the contrary, the Four-S Model accounts for such discrepancies and dislocations and finds meaning in it, in the very diachronic sense. In the formation of great literary works of ancient times, a tremendous circular and collateral narrative movement took place among Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra. In this movement everything had its share in the narrative orbit. According to the changing spatial and temporal settings, there occurred one shining over the other or one eclipsing the other. Sometimes Śruti gets a better share in the text than Sūtra and vice versa and so on. But as a whole they enrich each other in the field of both content and form.

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The width and breadth of their individual contribution to the text will become clearer when we dig into their semantic and semiotic world. Such an attempt has been made in the following section; but their general setting has already been discussed in Chapter 2).

Śruti (The Heard or The Revealed) Śruti is esoteric hearing and the cognitive authority of śruti concerns objects whose scope lies beyond empirical experience. According to Śaṅkara, Even if a hundred scriptural utterances were to say that fire is cold or that it is not bright, they would have no cognitive authority. If they were to say that fire is cold or that it is not bright, we would have to assume that they intended some other meaning; otherwise scripture would cease to be a source of knowledge. For scripture (śruti) is neither opposed to other sources of knowledge nor is it inconsistent with itself. (Lipner 2010:209)

That is why, according to the ancient Indian tradition of Vāk (Logos), the embodiment of śruti is something given and is discovered, and this discovery is a kind of esoteric ‘hearing’ that is transmitted by the primordial Sages down the human chain. The Ṛgvéda draws a poetical picture of the nature and power of Vāk. I am the gold-bestowing queen of the earth, I am the knower, the first of those you supplicate, The one that the Gods have set in the heart of all things. I feed you, make light to see by, give something to hear, For without Me, a man will go down. Here is true faith For those who can listen; here is what Gods and man Both seek. He whom I love will be power, be Brahman, Will see and consider immensely the truth. Now here is a hater of Brahman. Rudra’s great bow Sings out and he dies. I will save my people, for heaven And earth are Amine, I bear them both up, and the sea Is My mother. There is nowhere left that My touch does not reach. I breathe and worlds come spinning to birth. Not heaven Or earth sound the floor or pinnacle of My reach, or, combined, Imagine the magnitudes that I keep. (Ṛgvéda X. 125 in Misra 2008:67)

Here Vāk is personified and attributed to the first creation. “Vāk existed originally in unmanifest form, as an inexhaustible, powerful river dammed up and unflowing which then streams forth through ritual utterance, its purity and power intact, in

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the form of the Vedic syllables for the benefit of humankind” (Lipner 2010:45). The Vedic wisdom clearly states that Vāk, the Word or Logos is not just a human invention or a mere tool of communication. It is in fact infinitely more, and cannot be reduced to a single one of its dimensions. The Word is the first offspring of the Absolute and sprang from it in an extraordinary way and s/he her/himself is Word. Śruti and Vāk are so intermingled that no separation is possible. Raimundo Panikkar puts it in a remarkable way: Vāk is really the total living Word, that is to say, the Word in her entirety, including her material aspects, her cosmic reverberation, her visible form, her sound, her message. Vāk is more than merely meaning or sound devoid of sense; she is more than just an image or simply a vehicle of certain spiritual truths. She does not contain revelation; she is revelation. She was at the beginning. She is the whole of the śruti. The śruti is Vāk. (2001:88–89)

Śruti is thus the primordial mystery which finds its manifestation in and through different existential experiences of humans and which takes the avatar in the denotative and annotative power of Vāk. The outpouring or streaming forth of Vāk in Śruti is so natural, naive and primordial that the supernatural and divine aspects are ascribed to it. Thus śruti becomes scripture, the foundation of all wisdom, and it has an aura of divinity.

Sūtra (Aphoristic) If Śruti is the natural flow of the primordial mystery, Sūtra is its compacted, concentrated, and distilled channelising. The narrative genre of Sūtra is best characterised by its aphoristic, condensed and laconic form. It is to facilitate the memorisation and transmission of the wisdom which has traditionally been passed on orally. This aspect of Sūtra has been clearly depicted in the following Sanskrit Śloka (verse): alpākṣaram asaṃdigdhaṃ sāravad viśvatomukham; astobham anavadyaṃ ca sūtram sūtravido viduḥ. [Vayu Purāṇa] (Sūtra must be short, unambiguous, pithy, comprehensive, without gratuitous words, and unobjectionable—a tall order.)

The compact, concrete and comprehensive nature of Sūtra signifies that it safeguards knowledge from disintegration. Since this knowledge can only be unlocked by the decoder, or a particular teaching tradition, commentary (bhāṣya) is a corollary of the sūtra. The Sūtra requires expansion and elucidation.

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Sūtras which encapsulate knowledge that is more than a simple relaying of information (such as a string of grammatical rules) often call not only for expansion, but also for interpretation, since the knowledge they condense tends to be inherently multilayered. The more compact the sūtra is, that is, the more it conforms to the demand to be pithy and comprehensive, the more it requires decipherment. (Lipner 2010:96)

Sūtra does not undergo any change morphologically, but according to the circumstances its elucidation and elaboration vary in order to accommodate the contemporary realities. One could say that the sūtra’s condensed content has been allowed to germinate over time and blossom into new meanings; in other words, the same sūtra, interpreted say, by an Advaitin in one way a millennium ago, may well be interpreted to yield significant new insights, according to change of context, by an Advaitin successor today. Thus the sūtra becomes a device not only for storing and transmitting but also for adapting, acquired wisdom. (Lipner 2010:96)

Sūtras find their place, both as separate schools of wisdom and as narrative aspect, incorporated or integrated into śruti, smṛti or śāstra, in the ancient Indian literary tradition. In both cases Sūtra serves as a thread (sūtra literally means thread) connecting the texts of different literary traditions and different narrative streams in the same text respectively. Narration itself is an art of sewing, in which stories are linked together with sūtra verse or verses pregnant with suppressed meaning.

Smr· ti (The Remembered) Smṛti is the creative resonance of śruti, and the expansion and the elucidation of Sūtra. Śāstra is also, in a sense, an extension of Smṛti. Smṛti involves remembering past experiences and re-collecting the old wisdom; retrospection in the form of historiography, epic, psalm, prophesy, etc. We call it tradition and ‘tradition’ stands for both individual and collective experiences that have been recorded, codified and ratified for posterity by the wise of the community. Smṛti or ‘remembering’ is an eminently personal experience. One remembers what one has done or what has happened to one. Through memory one can appropriate and relive one’s past, and learn from experience. These marks—appropriation, reliving, learning, and guidance—are all included in the sense of smṛti. Smṛti refers to that store of group experience by which the community appropriates and relives its past, learns from it and is guided by it, and in the process shapes its identity. (Lipner 2010:89)

The narrative of Smṛti is the outcome of a process of probing, interrogating, debating and mediating. It makes the impersonal personal and admits the śruti to shape the world in which we live, and so to shape lives.

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Smṛti is the medium through which we hear the voice of śruti; it is interpretive, selective, collaborative and pliable. Śruti and Smṛti—or their equivalents, namely primary scripture and tradition—are the co-ordinates by which the religious authority of Hinduism has been transmitted. For Hindus, smṛti recalls exemplary figures and events that have shaped their past, the universe they inhabit. These figures may be human or non-human, benevolent or hostile, virtuous or malign. Smṛti pronounces on the origination and transmission of almost every branch of human expertise. (Lipner 2010:89)

In that way Smṛti makes the wisdom of the past available and accessible to folk in general and that will enable one to imbibe its spirit in life—a life guided by dhárma or right living. This is achieved through stories and tales, descriptions, discourses and didactics. “Smṛti is a great story-teller, myth-maker, codifier, teacher, punisher, rewarder, guide” (Lipner 2010:89). Therefore, Smṛti tradition stands close to the Hindu ethos and its proliferation extends to all regions and vernaculars of India.

Śāstra (Scientific Treatise) In the course of the formation of ancient Indian literature, we can notice the avatar of the same school of thought in the narrative form of Sūtra or Śāstra. In general, Sūtra is older than Śāstra and the former is more associated with one of the Védas, whereas the latter is more or less independent in some extent. With regard to the subject matter both have many things in common, but their treatment of the subject often differs. Śāstras deal with the topics more comprehensively and extensively than Sūtras. Śāstra emanates from the primordial mystery revealed in Śruti and it unfolds the art of living. The science it conveys is the outcome of experience and erudition, deliberation and discernment. Śāstra not only makes its presence in the mainstream narratives of all times through different literary forms and means, but it has also been developed into separate treatises and codes. For example, the Dhármaśāstra is an authoritative text of Hindus delineating the codes of conduct in a society for righteous living such as, rites of initiation, oblation to the dead, social order according to occupation, ways of incurring and cleansing ritual impurity, the status of women, the penances to be performed for the failure in doing dhárma, the duties of kings, laws of inheritance, etc. These topics are very much the subject matter of the great epic, the Mahābhārata, as well, “but informally; that is, they do not set out to formulate the concept of dhárma in its different ramifications but explore it, chiefly through narrative, but also by didactic passages” (Lipner 2010:149). The above example points to the fact that the outgrowth of Śāstra from different narrative stems of the Indian literary tradition was a necessary corollary to

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address the increasingly complex needs of society and explain the more complex matters that were arising in every phase of age. The analysis made so far on the four constituents of the Four-S Model, i.e. Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra, prompts us to approach the ancient narrative in a comprehensive manner. It is because the Four-S Model could give a better understanding and comprehensive view of the collective factors and the centrifugal forces which led to the literary formation of the ancient narratives. The comprehensiveness, coherence and confluence the Four-S Model suggests can thus be summarised: a. Śruti-Sūtra-Smṛti-Śāstra—An Art of Narrative Blending: Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra account for the diversity of content and form in a text of ancient origin. It is like an artist making use of different paints and colours at his disposal to paint a picture. The mixing of colours and their proper application on the canvas give shape to the picture. In the same way a narrative takes shape by the proper blending of Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra. b. Four-S Model—A Narrative Integrity: The Four-S Model suggests a kind of narrative integrity of a text. Varying genres which form a text are seen not as additions and interpolations, but as intermingling of the Four-S Model. The text takes on new life by way of a polycentric pattern of re-telling and re-adapting the main story or parts thereof. Many ancient texts are the result of this collective work and in this process the distinction between canon and creative re-telling, between Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra become blurred. c. Four-S Model—A Linguistic Dynamism: The Four-S Model gives the narrative a kind of linguistic dynamism. Language becomes incarnated in different genres when it shifts from one model to the other, i.e. from Śruti, to Sūtra or from Śruti to Smṛti or from Sūtra to Śāstra. This shift is so natural that it gives the narration dynamism, variation, liveliness, diversity, flexibility, etc. d. Four-S Model—A Communicative Dynamism: The Four-S Model lets the language communicate with the past, the present, the future and infinity. The Four-S Model witnesses the fact that the language itself communicates with the past, present, future and infinity. In this process of communication language gets refined (saṃskrṭa) and finds itself at the threshold of growth. e. Four-S Model—A Down-to-Earth Approach: The Four-S Model is a down-to-earth approach to ancient narration. This kind of approach is devoid of philosophically (like ‘mimēsis’1 of Plato and Aristotle) and

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historically (like ‘ad fontes’ of historical criticism) overburdened demands and implications. Narration here is esteemed to be an activity of hearing, sewing together, recalling, re-telling and translating an idea into action. f. Four-S Model—A Joint Venture of Natural-Supernatural: The Four-S Model proposes narration as a joint venture of natural and supernatural (divine-human). It keeps the balance between sacred and secular, divine and human, natural and supernatural, fact and fantasy. As far as scripture is concerned, the Four-S Model keeps the symmetry between pure manmade narrative with human imaginations, fantasies, aspirations, dreams, myths and superstitions, and the purely God dictated, inspired, authored word of God. The difference between a poet and philosopher, historian and storyteller, and theologian and scientist becomes thin. The source of imagination and the source of reason come into a common platform. On the basis of the above discussion on the Four-S Model, a close reading of the biblical narrative (Davidic Episode) will be attempted in the second part.

The Basic Models of the Indian Narrative Paradigm K. Ayyappa Paniker, an Indian poet and narratologist, has done some research into Indian Narratology2 and as a result he proposes nine narrative models out of the vast ancient Indian literary tradition. They are mutually inclusive and yet they represent the outstanding features of diverse Indian narratives, streaming out from the multifarious sources of the Indian tradition. They are: (1) The Vedic (Encrypted) Narrative—Ṛgvéda Model; (2) The Purāṇa (Saga) Narrative— Bhagavada Model; (3) The Itihāsic (Epic) Narrative—Rāmāyaṇa/Mahābhārata Model; (4) The Srnkhala (Chain) Narrative—Kathasaritsagara Model; (5) The Anyapadesa (Allegorical) Narrative—Pañchatantra Model; (6) The Maha Kāvya (Grand) Narrative—Raghuvamsa Model; (7) The Buddhist/Jain Narrative—The Jātaka Model; (8) The Dravidian Narrative—Cilappatikaram Model; and (9) The Folk/Tribal Narrative—Multiple Models. As far as this study is concerned, the three most ancient and basic models rightly represent the other later models which always find their inspiration in those archetypes. They are namely, Vedic, Purāṇic and Itihāsic. All other models, in one way or another, are extensions or embellishments of these main narrative paradigms; and they form part of these three. Therefore, this study will delineate the ancient Indian narrative models based on and in reference to the Vedic, Purāṇic and Itihāsic paradigms without neglecting or writing off the other models.

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Figure 13.  The Basic Models of the Indian Narrative Paradigm.

The Vedic Model—Cryptic To narrate an incident or an event is very much inherent in every human being and it is a psychological process to string together the events. Such an activity automatically assumes a narrative form and the smallest expression of that can be called the cryptic narrative. This characteristic can be traced out from the orally transmitted folksongs or Védas. Paniker writes: The Védas are primarily hymns lyrical in form and devotional in content. But there are many hymns that interiorise certain kinds of narratives, which can be developed or elaborated into stories or episodes or even dramatised for stage presentation. In a sense these mini tales may be called cryptic, because they hold back so much from the reader who is thereby tempted or even provoked into expanding them into prakaranas (episodes) or prabandhas (full-scale discourses). (2003 (IN): 18–19)

This model is best represented by the Ṛgvéda. There are many little narratives in the Ṛgvéda which leave much to be imagined and interpreted by the reader, for example, the embedded accounts such as Varuna and Vaśiṣta Mitrá, Yama and Yami, Agastya and Lopamudra, Pururavas and Urvasi, etc. Later on these kinds of potential stories in a nutshell have evolved into full-fledged narratives in great numbers. Encrypting or fictional narration is a common device in folklore, in the Rāmāyaṇa and in the Mahābhārata, too. The ancient Tamil works of dramatic lyric are also very rich in embedded narratives.3 Here are some distinguishing traits of Vedic narrative:

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a) Narrative condensation and embedment: The entire spatiotemporal, aesthetical aspects involved are left to the imagination of the reader or any re-teller who could fill the gap in the narrative. This kind of narrative condensation brings forth narrative elasticity. b) Rhetoric: The French Sanskrit scholar Bergaigne observes that “besides its original significance every word has a ‘couleur mythique’, and without the knowledge of the same, the ambiguity, which the poets expressed in their songs, cannot be unriddled. All the metaphors have a mystic meaning laid down in rhetorical formulae” (Sastri 1988:3). c) Poetic, yet philosophic (Kāvya darśana—tatvadarśana): The poetic spirit is beyond the empirical facts or spatiotemporal universe as embodied in reason; it is the world of imagination. The imagination is not the negation of reason, but the source of reason. Consequently, the poetic world gives rise to the empirical world. d) Véda as the embodiment of Vāk: Vāk (logos) is the power of speech and the essence of creative energy. Véda (wisdom or knowledge) is embodied ever new by the evocation of Vāk. The pattern or subject matter of the narration is ancient but their presentation is new. The novelty pertains to the winnowing activity of imagination. e) Sādṛṥya and Sahṛdaya: These aspects form the process of any aesthetic experience, whether of narration or fine arts. Sādṛṥya, literally meaning resemblance, is the subject matter of narration. According to Vedic understanding, the sculpture of the earth is engendered out of an imitation of the divine sculpture (ṥilpa) and the conformity with it brings forth culture (saṃskṛti). Hence Sādṛṥya is the aesthetic expression of the Spirit. Once this Spirit of Reality is apprehended, then there will arise the poetic composition.4 The right apprehension of this reality is sahṛdaya (sa + hṛdaya = good hearted). The person who attuned his heart with the Spirit of Reality is sahṛdaya and only s/he can make a proper appreciation of the kāvya. S/he should shift appearances and commune with the underlying spirit of poetry. Only to such a sahṛdaya does a poem unmask her beauty like a well-dressed, loving beloved to her lover (Rg̣ véda: 10.71.04). It can be called rasa as well. The vedic model stands out as the fountainhead of all narrative models, aesthetic experiences, linguistic principles, semantic and semiotic notions and of the basic concepts pertaining to literary appreciation.

The Purān·ic Model—Mythic Purāṇas5 are later attempts to assimilate, innovate and reintroduce Vedic lore in the forms of narrative, bringing them to grassroots level and reforming the myths

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conforming to mundane domains. “The richest treasure house of Indian Narratology is perhaps the Purāṇas and Upa Purāṇas and the works emanating from the Purāṇas. Apart from containing an infinite number of tales, they provide an umbrella concept of the fictional resources of the Indian mind” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 29). A close look at some of the main features of the Purāṇic model will be more enlightening (pp. 30–40): a. The Chain Narrative: The innumerable tales are connected by the device of chain narrators—one character of the story narrating another story and a character in that story narrating more stories and it goes on from narrator to narrator and generation to generation. b. Contextualisation: The narration is summoned in a particular context, i.e. in a particular time and place, by the auditors who are anticipant to hear the story, and through a character-narrator. Such a contextualisation conditions the mood of the audience, provides a sense of beginning, and necessitates the division of the text. This division in turn gives pauses of relaxation and at the same time it ensures continuity. It is a handy mechanism to manipulate the variations in the degree of tension which is necessary for any interactive process. c. Orality: Even when the Purāṇas are scholarly and philosophical in nature, they retain the pattern of oral narrative of folk literature. The repetition of situations, the formulaic structure of the sentence, communication of religious, philosophical or moral lessons in emotionalised and fictionalised episodes, the life-size accounts of heroes, the skill of slow-motion narrative etc. testify to the above fact. d. Question-Answer Pattern: The question-answer pattern appearing through the intervention of interlocutors makes the perfect communion of the ideal teller and ideal hearer possible and keeps the suspense alive. For example, Bhagavata is narrated by Suka as an answer to the question ‘how one can best spend the last week of one’s life?’, asked by King Parikṣit, who is about to die within a week as a result of a curse. e. Use of Dialogue: Dialogue on two levels takes place in Purāṇic narrative: dialogue between the characters within the story and the dialogue between the narrator and the audience. This paves the way for dramatisation, unlike the grand narratives or Mahākāvyas, which are more descriptive. The living voice in a narrative makes the narration lively, less monotonous and more interesting. f. Recursiveness: Purāṇic narrative is characterised by repetition and recapitulation. The natural intervals between different sessions with the formulas like, “the rest will be told tomorrow” or “once upon a time” or “long

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ago” give the structure of the narrative a certain looseness while keeping its own precision and tightness. g. Author as Character: Although the Indian traditional narrative distances narrated material from the personal and contemporary, implanting the author as narrator is very much part of it. For instance, Vyāsa is as much a character in the Mahābhārata as he is the author of it. The interiorised narrator contributes in underscoring the phenomenological illusory nature of all fiction. h. Human-Divine interaction: Fantasy and non-realism set the stage for the interpolation and intervention of divine, semi-divine or even demoniac characters. With this device narrative gets the best fictional treatment. It gives free play to the imagination of the author/narrator and it indulges the fancy of the reader/listener in the highest sense. Purāṇas are mythology in narrative form. i. From Creation Onwards: Presenting a synopsis of information about the mythic cosmology is a regular feature of Indian narrative, for example: a wide range of speculations of creation, of four different yugas (epoch or era), of the lineage of the Manus, of the origin of life on the earth, of the composition of the 14 worlds, of the dissolution of the created world through a flood (pralaya) etc. j. Supra-national: The Narrative space of Purāṇas is supra-national or it is extended to the whole universe—earth or heaven or hell or Hades or any of the 14 worlds, although individual episodes have their own regional location. It is because the entire action in a Purāṇic text takes place in the mind or imagination and the imagination controls narrative space. Events depicted are ahistorical, placed in mythological time and space. k. Insertion of Kirtana (Hymn): Insertion of Kirtana (hymn) into the narrative flow is often used as a mechanism to make the content of the narrative, i.e. the devotee’s experience of the outer universe or the epiphanic moment when man stands face to face with the manifestation of the divinity, sink into the mind of the reader/auditor. l. Benefits of Listening: Purāṇic narrative is bestowed with benefits of listening/hearing (phalaśruti) which are intended to make the reader/auditor interested in the course of the narrative. Phalaśruti points to the overall benefit: both the spiritual benefit through the invocation of the gods and the material benefit to lead a normal life in this world. By a purely secular reading of Purāṇa one can identify different strands which combine together to make a united entity of narrative structure. The Old Testament

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could be reckoned more to be Purāṇic, because it combines the multiple functions of an encyclopaedic narrative.

The Itihāsic Model—Epic There are mainly two Itihāsics in Indian tradition, namely, the Rāmāyaṇa, supposedly written by Vālmīki and the Mahābhārata, supposedly written by Vyāsa. Itihāsics can be conceived as fully humanised versions of the Purāṇas. The notable similarity between the two narratives is that both of them have their origin in oral narrative form. In the Rāmāyaṇa a single controlling narrative voice and, therefore, a straightforward narrative with a single dominant heroic figure is evident. As its name suggests, it is the ayana (= stories or adventures) of the single hero Rama. On the contrary, the Mahābhārata is marked by multiple voices, without focusing on a single character for the whole narrative text. “In fact Mahābhārata is not a single unified epic like any other epic in world literature. It is an epic which strings together a number of independent smaller epics” (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 35). However the author Vyāsa performs a balancing act in which all the sub-narratives (Upākhyānas) are presented in a way independent of the story of the Pandava dynasty, but at the same time in actual narration they are subordinated to it. The intervention of a series of narrators keeps the vibrant tone of narration in the Mahābhārata. The important common narrative attributes of epics: a. Historiography: Deals with historical matter and is presented as legend. Partly historical and partly mythical. The role of fantasy is reduced. b. Dominant Human Aspect: The human element is dominant even when the divine and demoniac elements are presented. It is concerned with human experiences, mainly love and war. Divine-human interaction is more subtle. c. Narrating Heroism: Heroes as main characters and heroic events as important plots occupy a chunk of the narration. The struggle is mostly between two human adversaries, rather than human and supra-human powers. d. Spatiotemporal: The subject matter of narration is grounded in time and place. e. Interiorise the History of the Nation: The history of the nation (e.g. geography, races, customs, rituals, stratification of society, etc.) is made subjective and personal. f. Nationhood-Myth: The nationhood of the country is in a myth form. g. Realistic and Rational: Focus is more on right and wrong, rather than good and evil. The attempt is to make the matter more logical and inevitable.

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The above features point to the fact that the epics stand as a distinctive narrative model with a superb poetic imagination, with wisdom and objectivity. Vālmīki’s genius as a poet is universally applauded. Out of the 30 and odd alaṃkāras (figures of speech) noted by the theorist Dandin (7th century A.D.), virtually every one of them can be illustrated from the Rāmāyaṇa. The concepts of rīti (style) and guṇa (excellence) noted by others also have their best specimens in Vālmīki. Sweetness, lucidity and grace are the hallmarks of Vālmīki’s style, at once free from the deadweight of long compounds and teasing verbal effects. His narration is always gripping and sparkles with images drawn from nature and the life of the people. (Sharma 2008:34)

Such a grand, cohesive and logical narrative structure is the outcome of the narrator’s mastery over the art of narration in which s/he shows her/his full maturity in the handling of complex, and continuously developing themes and calibre in exercising the selectivity (aucitya).

The Main Distinctive Features of Indian Narratology From the vast body of narrative material found in classical narratives or folk/tribal narratives, the poet and narratologist K. Ayyappa Paniker picks up 9 distinctive features of Indian Narratology: (1) Interiorisation; (2) Serialisation; (3) Stylisation and Improvisation; (4) Elasticisation of time; (5) Fantasisation; (6) Cyclicalisation; (7) Allegorisation; (8) Anonymisation; and (9) Spatialisation. If we follow Indian Kāvya Śāstra closely, we can easily notice that these narrative features explicitly or implicitly occur as part of its very theme. Those themes are mutually inclusive and overlapping. By picking up these narrative features, what Paniker wants “to do is a postmortem attempt to fill the lacunae in the critical tradition to supply the missing link and build up a connected account of the Indian narrative tradition on the basis of example, if not on critical tools” (2003 (IN): 3). He further clarifies that neither all these devices are employed in all Indian narratives nor does it imply that none of them are ever found in non-Indian texts.

Interiorisation As an important narrative feature of Indian literature, interiorisation incorporates many aspects of poetics such as dhvani, rasa, etc. The whole mode of expression and poetic experience is termed as sannivesha (placement) by Paniker. Sannivesha has its bearing on bhāva (the author’s emotion), artha (the text’s meaning) and rasa (the reader’s aesthetic savouring) and it can be either exterior or interior.

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Figure 14.  The Main Distinctive Features of Indian Narratology.

Exteriorisation (uparisannivesha) has nothing to hold back and the placement of bhāva-artha-rasa is instantaneous and the savouring stops with that. On the other hand, interiorisation (antasannivesha) cannot be seen as the opposite of exteriorisation, but as an extension. This extension leads one to the hidden level and incites “endless exploration” as Paniker thus conceives: Interiorisation is a mode of textual exploration, which through a discovery procedure or hermeneutical process enables us to effect entry into the interior of those literary works that, through word, sentence and metrical line, render palpable the bhāvaartha-rasa born of the imagination or real experience.” (2003 (Int): 2)

It may not be necessarily a conscious process, but more often it takes place without the studious effort of the author or reader. It takes the reader from the exterior to the interior experience of savouring the text. “Interiorisation is a process by which a distinction, a contrast or even a contradiction is effected between the surface features of a text and its internal essence” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 4). As this definition suggests, this contradiction lies on the surface-simplicity and interior-complexity. To interiorise a deep and complex intent, the outer frame or external features are made very attractive or even seductive. By applying this device, a text becomes a multiplicity of layer upon layer of signification; almost every tale seems to contain a complex tissue of interiorised tales. “The cleverer the narrator, the more complex the inner fabric and the more simple the outer frame” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 5).

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A reader may not take pains to get into the core and explore the significance. Instead s/he will remain satisfied with the exterior. The notion that there is in a text something like counter-text will help the reader to approach it in a more positive and meaningful way. Not only folk tales and ballads, but also works of so-called children’s fiction are good examples of interiorisation. Vālmīki’s Rāmāyaṇa is outstanding in this regard. Here the author, the poet-sage Vālmīki, goes beyond a single-layered storyline to visualise his ideal man, adopting an endless process of interiorisation. The story about the prince of Ayodhya who is sent to exile and whose wife Sita is abducted by Rāvaṇa is presented in a simple narrative style, but at the same time interiorises many aspects, tale after tale. For example, Rama of the solar dynasty confronting Rāvaṇa, the night-walker demon has been presented symbolically as the confrontation between the forces of light or day and the forces of darkness or night.

Serialisation The never-ending series of episodes to a unified, single-strand, streamlined course of events, centring around a single character (hero/heroine) is very typical of Indian narrative structure. These episodes are loosely organised, making it possible to detach them from the main stem without affecting the central plot or the integrity of the narrative structure. Paniker brings in an analogy from Indian culture to throw more light on this aspect: The long narrative in India is reminiscent of the Indian temple or palace architecture: there are many entrances, many archways, many substructures, which give the whole structure a spatial extension: the mini temples dedicated to minor deities or mini palaces occupied by young princes or princesses or concubines reassure the sumptuousness of the divine or royal splendour, but are not essential parts of the central authority. They may be vacant or disused or damaged, but that does not affect the power or the presiding deity or royalty. (2003 (IN): 7)

As this analogy shows, Indian narratives, too, are structured, leaving gaps and spaces so that an episode or a counter-text or a song or dance could be inserted as part of the very system. This kind of space management and flexibility distinguishes Indian narrative from Western narrative. Paniker ascribes many advantages and attributes importance to such a distinguishing characteristic. It allows variations in tone, style or tempo in the middle of the narrative course. The decentralisation or the episode’s entity as detachable compartments contributes to the internal richness of the human experience outlined in a long narrative. It provides greater adaptability, allowing the translators to present the narrative to the new reading

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public according to their taste. The great epic, the Mahābhārata, is a good example for serialisation. The episodes (upākhyānas) of Nala or Śakunthala are attached to the central story and they fit very well into the whole structure. There are episodes which are like effusions inspired on the spur of the moment, but which add special effect to the central theme, in the Dravidian epic Cilappatikaram.

Stylisation and Improvisation The plurality of the cultural matrix of India produced infinite variants of Indian narrative in each regional language and each cultural unit. The process of narration in each case worked on the principles of stylisation and improvisation. Paniker speaks of these two features which are interlocked: Stylisation is a factor that imposes limitations on the writer or story-teller, while improvisation is a liberating factor … The contrary device of improvisation is a means of going beyond the limitations imposed by the code of stylisation … Stylisation is discipline, improvisation is freedom. (2003 (IN): 16)

One has to maintain a balance between the two to avoid rigidity and uncreativeness caused by total stylisation, and chaos caused by total improvisation. For example, keeping the expectation of the reader and keeping the essential details, the stylised version of the Rāmāyaṇa is presented following certain pre-established codes, but at the same time extension of meaning and insertion of additional episodes are done through the principle of improvisation. Paniker compares such a device to an Indian classical concert in which no strict notation is laid down, but based on a given and fixed raga system there is a lot of scope and freedom for improvised variations depending on the talent of the musician. Indian narration is also remarkable in this respect, i.e. it adheres to a basic narrative framework and structure, yet the freedom to elaborate and expand is inexhaustible. The stylised narrative can be seen as a minimal text and improvisation as the horizon of creativity to make the narrative suit different tastes, contexts and situations.

Elasticisation of Time The fluidity of time adds more flexibility and elasticity to the narrative frame along with the impersonality of the work or the anonymity of the author. A certain ahistoricity is aimed at, a shift of emphasis from a definite dateline to indefinite infinity. Paniker remarks: “Narrative time in Indian texts is more psychological in character than logical; and this is one of the major differences between nineteenth century western fiction and traditional Indian narrative.”6

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The historical placement of the sequence of events is not of much significance, but of course the duration. For example, an event in the Purāṇas placed in an undefined area of time with a mention of “once upon a time” can be a temporal frame of 100 BCE or 100 CE. Here the clock time or calendar time is less important than the psychological time.

Fantasisation “Fantasy is a way of adjusting and accommodating even the unpleasant reality of the outside world to the heart’s content of the author or reader” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 8). The Indian mind has always intended to question the nature of reality and allowed the invisible or intangible legends or myths to play a role. Also in the Indian narrative mould, the dominance of fantasy encouraged by imagination is prevalent. The Védas, the Purāṇas, the epics, the fairy tales and folk tales are primarily the work of imagination and then only of the rational mind. Since imagination is highly subjective, the realities of the objective world are subjected to the subjectivity of the collective human imagination. Paniker explicates the impact of such an outlook: The ubiquitous power of the myth in the narrative art of India is to be explained in terms of the shared assumptions of the people who have always shown a propensity to understand the earth, Nature and every aspect of this vast universe in terms of a synthesizing imagination, a comprehensive mythical framework, where fantasy and not logic reigns supreme. (2003 (IN): 9)

In this way the impossible things of the everyday rational world are made possible in the narrative world. For example, elephant god, monkey god, water god, stone god, the river Ganga as goddess and the beloved of god Siva, Yaksha sending a message to his lover through a cloud, etc.

Cyclicalisation Indian narrators had the concept of progress as a cyclic construct and, thereby, the art of narration as an attempt to construct tales in accordance with the notion of forward and backward movement. Observing the cyclic nature of the universe, viz. cycle of day, cyclic rotation of the seasons, circular revolutions of the heavenly bodies, etc. they premised that all tales are recycled. The story of God’s incarnation, re-occurrence of demonic forces and the life of human beings and all such kind of realities, they based on the principle of the cyclic order of life which moves around birth, growth and death. Cyclicalisation is a handy device for the narrator to string together any number of tales in a particular narrative formula. Jātakas, the

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Pāli texts of the stories of former births of Buddha, are excellent models of cyclic narration. For example, the narrator sets the tone well at the very opening of the tale by the formula “once upon a time” to place it in the cyclic order of a series of stories. Paniker observes: “The placement of a single story in a chain of stories is a very natural form of narrative art of India: even today, in postmodernist novels and short stories too, one may find the effort of the narrator to locate each story in the story of story-telling” (2003 (IN): 11).

Allegorisation Allegorisation can be defined as substituting an abstraction for something concrete in order to achieve a broader effect or relevance. Paniker is of the opinion that it is a universal trait and this universality led to the popularity of the Indian text, the Pañchatantra, across the wide world. About the allegorisation in the Pañchatantra Paniker notes: “The use of the frame story, the practice of emboxing stories, the emphasis on moral values, the introduction of sub-tales, the element of soft satire, and above all the lively presentation of animal characters are important features of the allegorisation attempted in Pañchatantra” (2003 (IN): 13).

Anonymisation Most of the Indian ancient story-tellers maintained certain anonymity, and this attribute has been used later on to account for several narratives whose origins are lost in antiquity. The objective of attributing the authorship of a work to fictitious names is being figured by Paniker: “The objective was to merge the subjective self of the narrator in the collective readership so that ideally the narrator and the audience are one” (2003 (IN): 13). Language is seen as an instrument of collective expression and, therefore, no author is just an individual. For example, the composition of the Mahābhārata, 18 Purāṇas, Adhyatma Rāmāyaṇa, probably even Védas, are attributed to Véda Vyāsa,7 a metaphor of anonymity. Anonymisation8 has a great impact on Indian narration and its transmission. A definitive edition of a narrative is not at all a matter of importance, or identifying a name or a date or a location might add little to the real quality of the work. The anonymity of the author allows tremendous flexibility to produce one’s own version and fancy one’s own authorial privilege. That is why in India there are Rāmāyaṇas and Rāmāyaṇas, each one having its own proper place and integrity.

Spatialisation The spatial aspect is more important than the temporal aspect in the Indian narrative. According to Paniker, the narrative formula of opening a tale is more specific

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about place, leaving the exact time imprecise. He takes an instance from the opening of the first of the Pañchatantra tales: “Once upon a time, in the southern land flourished the fair city of Mahilaropya, rivalling in splendour even Amaravati, City of the Gods” (2003 (IN): 15) The opening of Jātaka tales and the opening of Koodiyattam, the traditional presentation of Sanskrit dram in Kerala, are also typical examples of the same. By adapting such a spatial precedence to a temporal one, the narrator is free of the constraints on time and s/he can concentrate on spatial movements as an indicator of shifts in location. Thereby, the scene becomes more crucial in the unfolding of the plot than time; and the events do not progress along a rigid straight line which allows discontinuities in action.

Three Classical Theories of Kāvya Śāstra As has already been mentioned, the ancient Indian poeticians embarked upon attempts from various standpoints to unravel the mystery behind the beauty of language and literature. They made several exploratory and penetrating contributions. As a result, there developed many poetical theories, one concept claiming prominence over the other. The exact number of such concepts is a contentious issue among the theoreticians. Nevertheless, the modern scholarship favours eight, as follows: rasa (aesthetic relish), dhvani (suggestion), Alaṅkāra (embellishment), guṇa-doṣa (poetic excellence-poetic flaw), rīti (style), vakrokti/svabhāvokti (matterof-fact/deviance), and aucitya (propriety). This study dwells on only three major concepts of Indian poetics which occupy a prominent place and which engage the attention of nearly every contributor. They are Rasa, Dhvani and Alaṅkāra. The other five concepts can be either directly or indirectly incorporated into the theme of these three. Moreover, going into the details of the poetical controversies and their subtleties does not come under the purview of this study.

Rasa (Aesthetic Relish): Reader-Response In the history of Sanskrit Poetics, perhaps no other concept has drawn more attention than rasa. The aesthetic foundation of Sanskrit poetics lies in the theory of rasa. Bharata, who was the earliest known writer to deal with literary criticism with his extant work on poetics called the Nāṭyaśāstra (1c. BCE), is considered by almost every later writer as the first exponent of the rasa theory.9 Bharata summarises the meaning of the multifaceted word ‘rasa’ in a single sentence: ‘Rasyate anena iti rasah’ (That which is relished is Rasa) (NS VI 28).10 However, the concept

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Figure 15.  Three Classical Theories of Kāvya Śāstra.

of rasa developed through the centuries cannot be confined to a single consistent translation. “Sometimes it is translated as mood, but mood conveys a sense of transitoriness and, therefore, does not really mean rasa. Since rasa necessarily involves emotion ‘aesthetic experience,’ ‘aesthetic rapture’ or ‘aesthetic relish’ would possibly be more appropriate” (Ray 2008:139). As Bharata conceived it in the Nāṭyaśāstra, rasa is a concept relating to drama and dramatic appreciation. He explains the aesthetic objective of dramatic representation and deals with some factors pertaining to the beauty of the formal aspect of kāvya. Though Bharata describes rasa in connection with drama only, the writers associated to the Dhvani School give it much wider scope and explain rasa not only in relation to drama, but in relation to kāvya in general. It was Abhinavagupta who developed rasa into a systematic poetic construct. So rasa gained significance in poetic appreciation and there evolved many works expounding how rasa is to be realised in poetry, coming to the realisation that the highest goal of poetic endeavour was rasa-evocation. All other poetical constructs, i.e. alaṅkāra, guṇa, rīti, vakrokti, dhvani and aucitya, revolve around the pivotal axis of rasa and they culminate in rasa. The semantic spectrum of the expression ‘Rasa’ is extremely wide, and an analysis of this extensive semantic spectrum shows that the concept of ‘Rasa’ is not merely

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subjective in character nor objective in nature; but rather it is a combination of subjective and objective components and is capable of being employed to signify the sense of ‘Beauty.’ (Mukherji 1990:485)

Rasa can be seen both in relation to the narrator and to the reader (sahṛdaya). The narrator goes through an experience and is taken over by the emotion attached to it and, thereby, s/he plunges into an aesthetic mental disposition (rasa). This finds its expression in and through different means of the medium of language. There originates a work of art imbued with rasa and the sahṛdaya who indulges in this work of art also undergoes the experience of rasa. Śrīśankuka, a commentator of the Nāṭyaśāstra, points out explicitly “that rasa was not an aesthetic object (abstract ‘content’, ‘theme’ in our language) but rasa was also and, even more important, the aesthetic experience in the receptors’, spectators’ consciousness” (Vatsyayan 2007:141). Thus rasa created by the narrator is re-created by the sahṛdaya. This process works out by originating in the poetic genius of the author through the literary work and finding the realisation of rasa in the poetic rapture of the reader or the appreciator. Rasa-Initiation in Unfolding Various Bhāvas Rasa is a state of relish which springs from a combination of factors related to the psycho-physiological states, the stimulus and the responses. The main such factors are elucidated in the following diagram considering various theoreticians down the centuries:

Figure 16.  Rasa as the Combination of Bhāvas.

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Bhāva (Mental State) Bhāva carries a profound meaning and that makes it difficult to give the exact rendering in a single word. It can mean ‘mental state’ or ‘emotive mood’ or ‘sentiments’ or ‘psyco-physiological state’ or ‘feeling.’ Rasa comes from the combination of various bhāvas which act upon each other. The poetical theories on rasa in the hands of various theoreticians have undergone many shifts starting from Bharata. Those shifts resulted in different categorisations of the fundamental concepts. However, the constitutive elements of rasa unfolding through various bhāvas are maintained in the conventional wisdom. Therefore, avoiding those nuances in the categorisations, this study tries to draw a general outlook of bhāvas and their components.

Figure 17.  The Components of Bhāvas.

Sthāyibhāvas (Permanent States) It is the sthāyibhāva that is formed into rasa by the union of other kinds of bhāvas. Sthāyibhāva is the permanent emotion that emerges in the mind. According to the traditional category set forth by Bharata, there are eight main such sthāyibhāvas, namely, rati (love), hāsa (laughter), śoka (sorrow), krodha (anger), utsāha (heroism),

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bhaya (fear), jugupsā (disgust) and vismaya (wonder).11 These are the permanent states which prevail throughout a literary work and set the mood of the characters and plots. Bharata says: “The permanent emotions are like kings, because many depend on them. So also the other bhāvas, being like servants, are subordinate to the person occupying the position of the king, resort to the sthāyibhāvas as being subordinate to them (or depending on them” (NS VII. 8). They are kings in the sense that they play a key role in evoking the rasa. In a literary work they cannot be directly perceived, but only be inferred. Vyabhicāribhāvas or Sancāribhāvas (Transitory States) Vyabhicāribhāvas are mental states that accompany and help to flare up sthāyibhāva or dominant emotion. They are transitory mental states. Thirty-three such vyabhicāribhāvas. have been named by the traditional wisdom. They are: nirvéda (discouragement), glāni (weakness), śanka (apprehension), asūya (envy), mada (intoxication), śrama (weariness), ālasya (indolence), dainya (depression), cintā (anxiety), moha (distraction), Smṛti (recollection), dhṛti (contentment), vrīḍā (shame), capalatā (inconstancy), harṣa (joy), āvega (agitation), jaḍatā (stupor), grava (arrogance), viṣāda (despair), autsukya (impatience), nidrā (sleeping), apasmāra (epilepsy), stupa (dreaming), vibodha (awakening), amaṣa (indignation), avahitthatā (dissimulation), ugratā (cruelty), mati (assurance), vyādhi (sickness), unmada (insanity), maraṇa (death), trāsa (fright) and vitarka (deliberation). “They occur to the mind in a fleeting manner in course of experiencing a permanent mood. Although they are mental states they may be acted out in a manner so as to make others know about their occurrence” (Sharma 1968:157). Vyabhicāribhāvas are born out of the emotions themselves and they are attached to more than one emotion. For instance, bashfulness is born out of love, depression out of sorrow, etc. The feelings like longing, remorse, dejection, agony, despair, depression, etc. are attached to the emotion sorrow as well as to love and even to fear. Sāttvikabhāvas (Physical Effects Resulting from an Emotion) Sāttvikabhāvas are physical effects and changes which accompany the rise of an emotion. They are very similar to vyabhicāribhāvas and in a close examination it is obvious that they fall into the category of anubhāvas. But sāttvikabhāvas can be seen as involuntary changes and, on the other hand, anubhāvas, voluntary changes. Sāttvikabhāvas have been enumerated eight in number: stambha (paralysis), svéda (sweating), romāñcha (horripilation), svarbhaṅga (change of voice), vepathu (trembling), vaivarṇya (change of colour), aśrupāta (weeping) and pralaya (fainting). These rising effects of the permanent moods get manifested in the person having an excited sthāyibhāva automatically.

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Vibhāva (Stimuli) The situation which evokes the dormant permanent moods into operation is being designated as vibhāva. They serve as causes, antecedents or stimuli to sthāyibhāvas. There are two aspects for vibhāva: Ālambana (substantial stimuli) and Uddīppana (enhancer stimuli).

Figure 18.  Two Aspects of Vibhāva.

Anubhāva (Response) The consequences, effects or manifestations of the permanent moods are known as anubhāvas. Mainly the voluntary physical changes are designated as anubhāvas, although sāttvikabhāvas (involuntary changes) as well carry the same idea of after-effects. For example, the sthāyibhāva of fear will cause violent changes to happen (bheda) in the limbs, the face or the eyes, trembling, looking about in panic, paralysis of the legs, drying of the mouth, palpitation of the heart and horripilation, etc.12 These voluntary responses are anubhāvas of the rasa of fear (bhaya). “This is very essential for any kind of communication, for only on the basis of this (or verbal communication) can one know the inward emotional state of the person in a condition of fear. These are, in fact, tangible, graspable proofs of a reaction to a specific stimulus” (Patnaik 2004:30). These, according to Bharata, are divisible into Vākika, or those that are expressed by words, and angika or bodily expressions. Rasa-Evocation in Merging Various Bhāvas The highest goal of poetic endeavour is rasa-evocation. The combination of bhāvas unfolding in a literary work through various characters, plots and poetical

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embellishments gives rise to the aesthetic rapture in a reader or recipient. This aspect has been conceived by the Indian poeticians as rasa and it is being realised through the process of those mental states called bhāvas. Bhāvas give rise to rasa and not vice-versa (NS VI 33). Bharata insists that it is sthāyibhāva (mental or emotive state) alone which leads to poetic relish through a combination of vibhāva, anubhāva and vyabhicāribhāvas: “vibhāvānubhāva vyabicāri saṃyōgad rasaniṣpattiḥ” (NS VI. 33). The sthāyibhāva is the underlying principle of rasa and is not the object presented. While sthāyibhāvas and vyabhicāribhāvas are the internal factors leading to aesthetic relish, vibhāva and anubhāva represent the external factors of such experiences. Emotions felt by the narrator are communicated to the readers only through vibhāvas and anubhāvas. Locating emotions as a legitimate ground for poetics makes the rasa theory something unique. The union of the vibhāva, anubhāva and vyabhicāribhāva results in the awakening of the sthāyibhāvas, which in turn results in the emergence of rasa. Both Abhinavagupta and Bharata affirm the subjectivity and emotiveness of sthāyibhāvas. According to them the basic sthāyibhāvas such as rati (delight), hāsa (laughter), śoka (sorrow), krodha (anger), bhaya (fear), utsāha (enthusiasm), jugupsā (revulsion), vismaya (astonishment) and śānta (serenity) are subjective and emotive. How this subjective worldly experience is transformed into rasa, is the subject matter of their poetical deliberations. There they make a clear distinction between the Sthāyī and the rasa. In this regard, Bharata maintains “that the ‘Sthāyī becomes ‘Rasa’ when it gets worthy of being relished. That is, ‘rasa’ is the enjoyment of a permanent emotion which is evoked in the heart of the reader so as to overtake his entire psyche as a result of the poet’s skilful delineations” (Tiwary 1984:350). As a result of the combined activity of all these factors and of the complex stimuli, the sthāyibhāva is aroused and brought to a relishable condition in the sahṛdaya and it develops into rasa. Rasa is raised to its climax by the combination of determinants, consequents and transitory emotions. In a drink prepared of sugar, pepper and other ingredients, there exists a unique sweetness, and the tastes of the individual ingredients are not discernible. So is rasa.13 Rasa is a unitary entity and indivisible experience in which any traces of bhāvas are not perceived individually. About the relation of rasa and the sthāyibhāvas Bharata says: “… in the same way that beverages such as sadava (a combination of six flavours) are created … the permanent emotions attain the status of rasa when they are accompanied (upagata) by the various bhāvas” (NS VI 31 in Krishnamoorthy 2004:33). Krishnamoorthy illustrates this point by taking one of the rasas, bhaya (fear) as an example:

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… the vibhāvas, anubhāvas, sancāribhāvas, etc. generate in the audience’s mind a state that is perceptive to fear or a state of fear. This perception of fear is not necessarily that of feeling threatened, but that of experiencing that state of mind. This implies that this state of fear is something induced by/deduced from a totality (of vibhāvas, anubhāvas, and sancāribhāvas) and thus affects the audience … Thus, the sthāyibhāva or the dominant emotional state that persists through a work is hidden in the work (is latent). Its nature is such that it can unfold only in time and thus manifest itself to its audience. (2004: 35–36)

The relish lies in the transcendence of sthāyibhāvas and in such a state a heightened sequence of relishes is generated, which is nothing but rasa. It is the sthāyibhāva that becomes rasa, but in the process it undergoes a transformation and takes a totally different form. Rasa-Realisation in the Appreciator (Sahṛdaya) of a Kāvya There must be a sahṛdaya with a mind attuned to bhāvas for rasa to reach its final realisation. The heart and mind of the sahṛdaya should stay attuned to the innate feelings and emotions represented in the work of a kāvya. Rasa is an aesthetic experience of both the author (kavi) and the appreciator (sahṛdaya). Rasa created by the author through the embellishment of bhāvas of the characters and plots is created anew by the sahṛdaya. The extent to which the sahṛdaya captures rasa realised by the narrator is contingent upon his/her aesthetic sense. How this process of realisation takes place is explicated by Vatsyayan as it is conceived by the theoretician Śrīśankuka: … if the principle content and form is abstracted, not specific, and that the artist, writer presents it through a variety of tools of situations and stimulants and variations, then, the ‘identical’ of the original was not possible. The spectator or receptor does not receive the ‘identical’ or the original. Instead, he infers from the ‘forms’ of the created artistic image the original and, therefore, has the potential and possibility of a similar but not identical experience as the creator/writer. The psycho-epistemic approach of Śrīśankuka is obvious. He is concerned with the (i) nature of the object of the aesthetic experience, (ii) the means of cognizing it, and (iii) the final response and its nature. (2007:141)

This transference however, implies not the production of any new emotion in the spectator, but only the awakening of latent sentiment. A sthāyibhāva, when not properly and adequately nourished, does not turn into rasa. It remains in the state of bhāva. In the same way, any bhāva which is necessitated by the corresponding context, always remains a bhāva and does not reach the stage of rasa.

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Therefore, the perception of Rasa is to be understood mainly as a process, not just as an object in the sense of essence or flavour. Rasa-realisation in the sense of process and essence is intelligibly brought out by Krishnamoorthy: In this sense, rasa refers to a unique process that has the ability to elude space and time and become an essence. What this means is that the development of rasa as a concept has within itself the implications (and also the possibilities) of both process and essence … rasa is perceived in a process (‘enter’) which stretches to the edge where processes and products/objects disappear. Then there is a sudden leap into bliss. (Krishnamoorthy 2004:22)

There are many obstacles also lying in this process of rasa-realisation. If the dominant element (sthāyibhāva) is not properly brought out, that is an obstacle in the way of the realisation of rasa. “They are ‘all the extraneous elements which break the unity of a state of consciousness’—the unity that is required for the sahṛdaya to acquire the correct mood to enjoy rasa” (Vijayavardhana 1970:88). For example, if the vibhāvas and anubhāvas do not lend themselves to immediate realisation, or if they are not sufficiently clear, the evocation of rasa is hindered. All these show that rasa is primarily something to do with reader-response. Abhinavagupta says: “Rasa is nothing less than the reader’s reaction to, his personal involvement with, literature …” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:50). Here one has to take into account the significant contribution to the existing rasa theory by Ānandavardhana. He is of the opinion that wherever there is the realization of rasa, it is invariably suggested (dhvani). Since an emotion is a personal experience, it cannot be portrayed as it is in a literary work. In such a case the task of the narrator is to activate the bhāvas lying dormant in the reader. To achieve this end, the narrator can only describe the situation that gives rise to the emotion with poetical effects and consequently the rasa is left to be suggested. The Categorisation of Rasa Even when the traditional categorisation of rasa is a disputed issue, it is rather well-established that there are nine rasas, including śānta rasa (a state of tranquillity or repose) which is counted as a later addition. The other eight rasas are: erotic (śṛṅgāra), comic (hāsya), compassionate (karuṇa), furious (raudra), heroic (vīra), terrifying (bhayānaka), disgusting (bībhatsa) and awesome (adbhuta). Śānta rasa is looked upon as a means to the highest happiness and to secure the knowledge of the Self. Śānta in the sense of highest happiness or bliss transcends the ordinary joys and pleasures. Some theoreticians object to the concept of Śānta being called a rasa, as it is difficult to locate an emotion in Śānta. But others insist on the point that “since all the eight rasas, though they have their basic emotions, cannot

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be called emotions proper but heightened aesthetic states caused by the respective emotions (sthāyibhāva or the permanent states), Śānta can also be considered within the category of the other eight rasas” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:64). In a literary work like the Rāmāyaṇa, all the different rasas are to be found, but one of them might stand out. There the concept of subordinate and dominant (aṅga-aṅgī) rasas and contrary and non-contrary (virodhī-avirodhī) rasas proposed by Ānandavardhana finds relevance and such an analysis helps to determine the aesthetic worth of kāvya. For example, Śṛṅgāra and bībhatsa make one such opposing pair. Love cannot prevail in an atmosphere which induces a feeling of disgust. The two emotions are opposed to one another. Śānta and raudra are antagonistic to one another. Vīra is not opposed to Śṛṅgāra and similarly, Śṛṅgāra is not antagonistic to hāsya too. Śṛṅgāra in the context of bhakti (spiritual devotion) leads to the possibility of a union with the Ultimate which is known as bhakti Śṛṅgāra. Whatever names are given to individual rasas, the nature of the final delight or relish experienced therefrom is one and the same. In other words, the various rasas are merely different manifestations of the same supreme aesthetic experience. It is a singular experience and the ultimate end is unitary. Abhinavagupta remarks that from the point of view of the final goal (paramartha), rasa is one. Rasa is not only the soul of kāvya, but also of Music, dance and painting. It is considered to be a yardstick to measure the excellence of Art.

Dhvani (Suggestion): Text-Oriented In the realm of classical Kāvya Śāstra, the two theories—rasa and dhvani, are so interconnected. According to the great exponents of this view, rasa could be realised in kāvya through dhvani alone, and rasa-dhvani is the summit of poetic perfection. Thus it so came about that the theory of dhvani grew in prominence. Ānandavardhana, the author of the Dhvanyāloka, first propounded the theory of dhvani and later on the other theoreticians dug into its various poetic perspectives.14 As the scope of this study to go into the subtleties of those aspects is limited, only the main sources, elements, dimensions, functions and poetic purport of dhvani are laid out here. The Basic Sources of the Theory of Dhvani Ānandavardhana, who first introduced the concept of dhvani in poetics, has drawn inspiration from his forerunners. Some of those already existing concepts which moulded the theory of dhvani are vyañjanā, sphoṭa, alaṅkāra and rasa. They gave a theoretical foundation to the theory of dhvani.

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i. Vyañjanā (Suggestion): Bharata in the Dhvanyāloka makes mention of the function of suggestion when he speaks of rasa (Dhv. III). The sthāyibhāva developing into a rasa-vyañjanā was already part of rasa theory and it can be seen as a source of dhvani theory. Here vyañjanā is used only with reference to the sentiments (rasa), but in dhvani to the matters of fact (vastu) and imaginary ideas (alaṅkāra) as well. ii. Sphoṭa (Sound-Spurt): Etymologically sphoṭa means ‘that from which meaning bursts out or spurt.’ Sphoṭavāda (the doctrine of sphoṭa) explains how the uttered sound manifests sense in a language. The germ of the theory of dhvani can be traced back to the theory of sphoṭa of the grammarians who already discovered the suggestive potentiality of the language. “The grammarians do not recognise any suggestive function of the expressive words but they hold that the syllables that we hear suggest an eternal and complete word within the heart of the hearer, which is called sphoṭa and which alone is associated with the meaning” (Sharma 1968:35). It is generally accepted that there is an inalienable relation between the concepts of sphoṭa and dhvani. “The dhvani theory of poetics is analogous to this theory of sphoṭa as it postulates that different constituent elements of a poetic composition, when taken together, reveal a deeper meaning, unexpressed by any of the individual parts—a meaning that flashes upon the sahṛdaya instantaneously” (Vijayavardhana 1970:101). When the theory of sphoṭa explains how the syllables and sounds reveal the meaningful entity, dhvani accounts for the way the words convey their primary meaning and reveal further suggested meaning, and consequently, the beauty of the kāvya as a whole. iii. Alaṅkāra (Figure of Speech): The existing concept of alaṅkāra also facilitated the flowering of dhvani theory. Alaṅkāra in itself contains a kind of atiśayokti (exaggeration). All the alaṅkāras seem to bear a sense of either another figure or another idea which happen to be suggested. This is considered to be the sense other than the universally recognised and commonly understood express sense. “The phenomenon of the alaṅkāras being suggested by express figures seems to have occurred to Ānandavardhana from a study of Bhāmah’s atiśayokti …” (Sharma 1968:39). The definitions of the alaṅkāras postulate an invariable presence of some suggested content, some of which could even be interpreted as cases of dhvani. iv. Rasa (Aesthetic Relish): Rasa is explained by Ānandavardhana in the form of Rasādidhvani. According to him, rasa can never be expressed directly and it is always to be suggested. Thus we can trace in the Nāṭyaśāstra of Bharata latent existence of dhvani.

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From the above discussion on the sources, it can be concluded that the poetical concepts such as vyañjanā, sphoṭa, alaṅkāra and rasa largely contributed to the moulding of the theory of dhvani. In respect of the suggestion in the form sphoṭa and vyañjanā, Ānandavardhana had the impulse from great grammarians of the past such as Bhartṛhari and Patañjali, of the suggestion of rasa he had the idea from Bharata, and of the suggestion of alaṅkāra he took the seed from Bhāmah and Udbhaṭa. Three Types of Dhvani in Relation to Kāvya Ānandavardhana in the Dhvanyāloka outlines three main types of implicit sense: vastu dhvani, alaṅkāra dhvani, and rasa dhvani. They are the three elements connected with the Kāvya which are included in the dhvani. In vastu dhvani some rare fact or idea is implied; in alaṅkāra dhvani some alaṅkāra or figure of speech is suggested and in rasa dhvani rasa is evoked. i. Vastu-dhvani: Any idea is called Vastu. In kāvya new ideas are brought forth and they may be sometimes more prosaic in nature. When the suggested sense is of the nature of a mere appealing poetic idea, it is vastu-dhvani. In the realm of vastu-dhvani there is room for folk-literature, proverbs, jokes, etc. ii. Alaṅkāra-dhvani: An alaṅkāra brings charm in expression being associated with śabda (sound) or artha (sense). When the suggested sense is of the nature of a poetic figure, it is alaṅkāra-dhvani. Here, the expressed sense may or may not be an alaṅkāra, but the suggested sense should clearly convey an alaṅkāra. iii. Rasa-dhvani: Rasa is the blissful experience of the bhāvas. When the expressed sense consists in the portrayal of appropriate vibhāvas, anubhāvas and vyabhicāribhāvas and consequently the suggested content evokes rasa, it is rasadhvani. Rasadhvani is given the highest importance, for rasa is capable of being conveyed by suggestion alone. On the other hand, vastu and alaṅkāra can be even expressed through denotation. The Five Dimensions of Dhvani15 Dhvani is a term with a vast spectrum of meaning. The five-dimensional dhvani theory is essentially required to show how the poet has succeeded in arranging all his material with the whole and sole purport of inducing rasa in his reader: i. Dhvani in the Singular: When it refers to rasa in the singular as what is suggested by a poem (vyaṅgya), it means the aesthetic value or joy of the tasteful and sensitive reader.

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ii. Dhvani in the Plural: When it refers to rasas in the plural, it means the emotion-feeling content described in the poem. iii. Dhvani as Suggestive: When it refers to the suggestive items (vyañjaka) in a stanza, like syllable, word, affix, sentence, passage, whole work etc., it invites us to shift our attention from the suggested to the suggestive element. Again, the surface meaning (Vākika) of a poem may itself in its turn become suggestive of another. iv. Dhvani as Process: Dhvani can also mean the process (vyāpāra) of suggestion evidenced in all good poetry. v. Dhvani in Entirety: The poem, which is the summation of all these can also be termed dhvani, which then signifies that it is a poem of the highest order of excellence. These multiple significations of dhvani are all basic to a proper understanding of poetry, both from the end of the poet and that of critic. The Three-Fold Division of Meaning in Dhvani16 The Dhvani Sinddhānta (the doctrine of Dhvani) is founded upon a three-fold division of meaning and thus based on the three-fold power of the word:

Figure 19.  The Three-fold Division of Meaning in Dhvani.

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i. Abhidhā (denotation)/Abhidheya or Vākya (denoted)/Vācaka (denotative): The meaning that is ascribed to a word by convention through the accepted usage of the world is Vākya (denoted or primary).17 It is directly conveyed to the listener in a given context. The word ‘cow’ denotes the sense of a particular domesticated animal, familiar to the listener and in accordance with the dictionary meaning. The power or the function which operates to convey this meaning is abhidhā (denotation). The type of words that convey such conventional meanings is called Vācaka (denotative). ii. Lakṣaṇā (indication)/Lakṣya (indicated)/Lākṣaṇika (indicative): An extended meaning inferred from a word under certain conditions is lakṣya (indicated). This kind of meaning arises only when the primary sense of a particular word (or expression) is inapplicable and inoperative. The function of words that conveys this secondary meaning is called lakṣaṇā (indication), which is the extension of the primary function. The type of words that convey such conventional meanings is called lākṣaṇika (indicative). There are three conditions to operate this function: (1) There should be total incongruity of the primary sense in the given context, (2) There should be some purpose (prayojana) to resort to a secondary sense, and (3) The secondary sense thus obtained must have a connection with the primary sense of the word. To take the frequently quoted example, the expression ‘the hamlet on the river Ganges’ is incongruous because a hamlet is impossible on the stream of the river. The primary sense of the phrase ‘on the river Ganges’ is inoperative, and the indicated sense ‘on the bank of the river,’ is resorted to. This secondary sense is connected with the primary sense, and there is a purpose in making use of this extended sense, namely, to emphasize the qualities such as coolness existing in the hamlet due to its proximity with the river. iii. Vyañjanā (suggestion)/Vyaṅgya (suggested)/Vyañjaka (suggestive): The meaning that is over and beyond its denoted or indicated senses and in addition to them is vyaṅgya (suggested). The function of vyañjanā (suggestion) operates when the other two functions—denotation and indication—have exhausted their capabilities of expression. The type of words that convey such conventional meanings is called vyañjaka (suggestive). As in the case of indicated sense, there is no necessity for the primary sense to be incongruous or inapplicable. The suggested sense is grasped along with the primary sense and beyond it. Its realisation is also dependant on the capacity of apprehension inherent in the responsible reader (sahṛdaya), and his imaginative experience. Furthermore, the possible

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suggested sense from a given usage is not a limited one; it can arise based upon either denoted senses or indicated senses. We arrive at the suggested sense either through ‘abhidhā’ or ‘lakṣaṇā.’ The Poetical Purport of Dhvani18 Dhvani theory is certainly the crowning achievement of Kāvya Śāstra. The poetic purport of dhvani is indispensable. As the theory of dhvani treats the problems of meaning of poetic language and its aesthetic experience, its scope and utility is wide. The importance of such intent of dhvani is listed below: i. In dhvani, suggestion conveys a charming meaning which cannot be conveyed by ordinary speech. If normally expressed the same matter of fact will not be as charming as when it is suggested. ii. The ideas which are suggested by a few words will require many more words to be denoted. Suggestion helps convey such volumes of ideas that it is almost impossible to convey the same by express statements. iii. Through suggestion the poet may communicate the incommunicable and volumes of ideas at a time. By reducing semantic and grammatical redundancy to an unusual level, by relaxing linguistic and social restrictions, the poet attempts to communicate the incommunicable. This is the essence of poetic licence i.e., to use suggestive language for conveying greater volumes of ideas and feelings in a compressed form. iv. More ideas can be presented only as the suggested content and never as the expressed sense. v. Dhvani brings rejuvenation to old and hackneyed poetical ideas. In the course of the development of certain literature, certain ideas get stereotyped and labelled as poetical and begin to lose their inherent charm on account of being very commonplace. Hence, their same ideas need to be given a new expression, and indeed novelty is the greatest secret of beauty. The more familiar and easily accessible have less appeal, whereas the new and the cryptic attract us more. vi. The most important purpose served by the dhvani theory was to lay the greatest emphasis on rasa. By the time of Ānandavardhana, Sanskrit literature was degenerating to a very regrettable extent and it became a slave to the fad and fashion of stereotyped figure. Poetical ideas needed to be presented in a new manner and that is why it was desired to give every idea and every object of description a tinge of rasa. vii. Although dhvani is concerned with the semantic problems of the function of words and their meanings, furthermore, it reaches out to

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phenomenological problems of discerning the affective response of a perspective reader. The sounds that manifest sphoṭa, the meaning that echoes or the meaning that ‘bursts out,’ rings or reverberates, are termed dhvani. The dhvani theory may be applied for the literary criticism of all the genuine kāvyas.

Alan· kāra (Embellishment): Rhetoric and Structural The concept of alaṅkāra in poetics is more ancient than Rasa; however, it grew into a poetic school by Bhāmah (8th c. CE) through his masterwork, the Kāvyālaṅkāra. Etymologically, alaṅkāra means that which adorns or that by which something is adorned. In the poetic speculation the alaṅkāra theory put on many meanings in the course of its history. Those distinct meanings can be as follows, as Krishnamoorthy (1985:162) laid out: 1) The general sense of ornaments such as rings and necklaces worn by women, etc. 2) The technical sense of figures of speech like an alliteration and simile, which enhance the beauty of sound or sense in poetic compositions. 3) Over-all beauty of sound and sense achieved through the medium of various devices, figures of speech being the premier ones among them. 4) A treatise on beauty in poetry. Except the first meaning of ordinary sense, all of the other three meanings carry great importance in poetics. According to the Alaṅkāra School, whatever gives beauty and charm (alaṅkāratā or kāvyaśobhā) to kāvya is alaṅkāra. Under this wide concept, everything that brings about poetic appeal could be introduced. Kāvya is further broadly called Alaṅkāra, since it is alaṅkāra which gives kāvya literariness (Kāvyatā or Kāvyahood).19 Literariness cannot be confined to some of the figures of speech such as upamā (simile), rūpaka (metaphor), etc. Moreover it consists of the mode of figurative expression, grammatical accuracy and the sweetness of sound, without discrediting the role of meaning in a work of kāvya. Rasa theorists hold that the alaṅkāras splash Rasa on Kāvya.20 The dhvani theorists think that beauty in kāvya is what comes by suggestion indirectly and never what comes plainly or directly. Thus, suggested alaṅkāras stand on a category (alaṅkāra-dhvani) higher in aesthetic appeal than their plainly stated counterparts (Vākalaṅkāras). The Classification of Alan· kāra Bharata made mention of four alaṅkāras in his Nāṭyaśāstra, and later on Bhāmah enlarged it to thirty-nine. Then the number of alaṅkāras was ever on the increase,

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as the theorists added more, such as naturalism (vāstava), similitude (aupamya), exaggeration (atiśaya), paronomasia (śleṣa), pun (yamaka), alliteration (anuprāsa), illuminator (dipaka), hyperbolic (atiśayokti), roundabout (vakrokti), beauty in the use of epithets, beauty in the suggested overtones, opposition, syntactical change in construction, poetic slant to logical forms of statement and hidden meaning, etc. There is consensus among the poeticians on the basic classification of alaṅkāra into śabdālaṁkāra (verbal figures) and arthālaṁkāra (semantic figures). The first deals with sound and the latter with sense. They make up the body of kāvya (kāvyāśarīra)—sabdārtha sāhitau Kāvyam (together-ness of word and meaning). According to Bhāmah, kāvya is built of words and senses which are embellished by figures of speech. “When we talk of a person, we talk of a living person and not of a corpse. So too, when we talk of the body of poetry, we are invariably thinking of Śabda and artha, animated by an indwelling soul like rasa …” (Krishnamoorthy 1985:167). It is Rudrata who made an explicit classification based on it as follows:

Figure 20.  The Classification of Alaṅkāra.

Alaṅkāra is variable and the possibilities are endless. Therefore, theorists can go on adding to the number of alaṅkāras by discovering new aspects of figurative beauty in any kind of kāvya. That prompted theorists to indulge in the multiplication of alaṅkāras and, as a result, the alaṅkāra system degenerated into an insipid scholastic exercise. .  The Nature and Purpose of Alankāra According to the proponents of the alaṅkāra theory, kāvya is to appeal not to the intellectual but to the responsive reader. Therefore, that Kāvya which is having

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no alaṅkāra of the ordinarily known types of figures of speech also may be an ideal kāvya if the matter under description possesses an inherent beauty or if its literariness invokes rasa. Meanwhile, the surface view of alaṅkāra, which has to do with empirical use of words and meanings without any inherent aesthetic goal, is severely criticized by the later theorists such as Ānandavardhana. Even when there are conflicting views about the purpose of alaṅkāra among the theoreticians, the leading ones can be formulated as follows: i. To supply examples for rules of grammar and poetics. ii. To convert the matter-of-fact, prosaic speech into poetic speech, and the criterion for judging its worth. iii. To incorporate poetic qualities (guṇa) and exclusion of flows (doṣa) in kāvya. iv. To emphasise the poetic worth of sound and sense as reaction against the grammarian’s over-emphasis on grammatical aspect. v. The formal embellishment of the external aspect of kāvya. vi. To focus on the decorative aspect of the poetic art. vii. The evocation of poetic appeal. The alaṅkāra theorists considered embellished speech alone as poetic speech. Hence, in their opinion, alaṅkāras (embellishing factors) were of prime importance in the evocation of poetic appeal. .  .  Alankāra and Alankārya According to the major teachers of poetics both alaṅkāra (that which adorns) and alaṅkārya (that which is adorned) come under the purview of the theory of alaṅkāra. To most of them, Rasa is the alaṅkārya and the poetic figures should be employed to foster the essential content of Rasa and Bhāva. The beautifying factors make up alaṅkāras. “Ānandavardhana has laid down the limits of propriety within which Alaṅkāras should be employed. They should not give the idea of being laboured and far-fetched, but should flow effortlessly from the creative genius of the poet” (Tiwary 1984:155–156). In the first instance, the alaṅkāras beautify the Śabda (sound) and artha (sense) without giving the impression of being loaded on, and then they result in arousal of rasa which is alaṅkārya. Rasa is something to be embellished (alaṅkārya) and not an embellishment (alaṅkāra). For the dhvani theorists, rasa is always suggested. It is the expressed idea that conveys the suggested sense. Therefore, the function of the figures of sound and sense is to contribute to enhancement of the expressed sense so that it becomes capable of conveying the suggested idea.

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.  The Trinity of Alankāras: Svabhāvokti (Natural-Speech)—Vakrokti (Roundabout-Speech)—Atiśayokti (Exaggerated-Speech) As essential attributes of alaṅkāras in general, each alaṅkāra theorist has a natural preference for any one or more of this trinity. Svabhāvokti is the naturalistic way of expression, vakrokti is the tortuous way of expression and Atiśayokti is the extravagant delineation. Svabhāvokti describes the object in its true character without any external backing of exaggeration. “Even when the poet is describing a fact or situation, in consonance with its ‘Svabhāva, nature or disposition, he has to select those items which will capture the reader’s attention” (Tiwary 1984:169). Although svabhāvokti involves the description of nature as it is and is similar to vārtā (matter-of-fact expression), it has been considered by almost all theorists as a poetic figure. A beautiful analogy by Vijayavardhana will make this point clear: A photograph is a representation of things as they are. Hence, it is just that it is no work of art. But a photograph too does become a work of art depending on the material selected and the point of view of representation. In the same way, svabhāvokti in literature becomes real poetry by the poet’s ability to perceive subtle details, his uncommon attitude and his way of presentation—all being the result of his creative genius. (1970:35)

This makes vārtā (matter-of-fact expression) distinct from svabhāvokti. On the other hand, vakrokti and atiśayokti coincide and convey identical connotations. They transcend the common modes of speech, which in turn adds alaṅkāra to the kāvya. Vakrokti converts the ordinary speech into poetical speech and atiśayokti transcends the common experience of the world (‘over-semanticised’ or ‘hyper-semanticised’) and reflects the super-normal sensitivity of the poet. On poetic compositions in Sanskrit the influence of the Alaṅkāra School is extensive. In spite of its drawbacks, the alaṅkāra theory is not without its merits. It was the first attempt to explain the nature of appeal in literature. A poetic composition should be viewed in its entirety. Hence, the main classical theories of Kāvya Śāstra account for a holistic understanding of kāvya. Dhvani is basically a semantic theory (text-oriented); rasa is mainly an affective theory (reader-response); alaṅkāra is primarily rhetoric. While dhvani deals with the suggestive power of words, rasa is concerned with the emotive aspect of kāvya and alaṅkāra takes care of the aesthetic appeal.

part t wo

An Appreciation of the Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel from the Vantage Point of Kāvya Śāstra

Introduction to Part Two

In the Books of Samuel, like any other book of the Bible, different sources are merged to form a story, narrating the origin and development of kingship in Israel. In this story, David is the protagonist and the pivotal character. The first book of Samuel can be seen as the prologue to the Davidic Episode and the second one as the climax of the Davidic monarchy, which goes through a decline towards its end. Samuel, to whom the books are ascribed, acts as the kingmaker and king-breaker of Yahweh. Historical criticism has given much thought to the sources that were incorporated in the final form of the text, the traditional settings of individual sources, and the ways and means the editors used to combine sources in the process, etc. It has meticulously brought out the nuances in the series of appendices to the main plot of the Davidic Episode. The differences in style and ideological options from that of the main narrative made the historical critics come to the conclusion that the books of Samuel are a collection of loosely fabricated disparate sources. Thanks to a new rection in biblical scholarship by various narratological approaches in the last two decades or so, the narrative dynamics of the Samuel books have been given more focus. The so-called compositional discrepancies which the historical critical methods consider as interpolation of and superfluous interference in the mainstream narrative are no more seen as such, but as established literary techniques used by the ancient Hebrew editors and sometimes by

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the original writers themselves. Recent studies in this line could prolifically exhibit the compositional coherence of the Samuel books by employing various narratological tools and devices. Through this research a special attempt is made to open up the horizon of ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra in view of exploring the dynamics of the biblical narrative. The application of those findings will be attempted in the appreciation of the Davidic Episode unfolding in the Samuel books. The four main findings delineated in chapter three will be closely followed in this second part to bring the Davidic Episode closer to the narrative planes of Indian literary tradition. The Four-S Model will give the rationale to reason out the compositional coherence inherent in the narrative and the poetics of cohesiveness at work in the making of a narrative. The basic Indian narrative paradigms will demonstrate the nature of narrative artistry shaping the story. Some of the diverse narrative devices pertaining to Kāvya Śāstra will throw more light onto the narrative art in the Davidic Episode. The classical constructs of Kāvya Śāstra will help the literary appreciation of the Davidic Episode with a wide spectrum of aesthetic experience triggered by the interaction between author, text and reader. The innovation this study offers lies in its approach, which is more intimate and familiar to the Indian literary world. It is an attempt to demonstrate that the Davidic Episode can be approached and appreciated standing firm on the Indian literary tradition, not merely leaning on borrowed models from overseas. Various approaches and heuristic devices from the point of view of ancient Indian Poetics have been applied to selected narratives in the Books of Samuel in order to explore the mechanics of narrative art. The method adopted in this attempt is comprehensive and descriptive, rather than analytical and syntactical in a rigorous manner. This study prefers to put the Davidic Episode on the canvas of Kāvya Śāstra and tries to see its narrative beauty from different angles. In such an endeavour, the common strategy would be to pick up a narrative unit or some narrative units together, rather than making hair-splitting linguistic and structural analysis, in order to show the sense and sensibility of Kāvya Śāstra in the process of literary appreciation. There will be frequent back and forth movement. To avoid repetition to a certain extent, different narrative plots or units are taken to deal with different models or devices. Approaching the Davidic Episode in a chronological setting is outside the scope of this study. Having already familiarised the reader with the concepts introduced, issues addressed and themes discussed of the Indian tradition and Kāvya Śāstra in the first part, only a cursory cross-reference will be made thereon in the second part as the context demands. To get an overview of the main ideas, a recapitulation or abstract of them is given right at the beginning of each topic. The translation of the Bible according to NRSV (Oxford)1 has been used for this study.

chapter four

The Compositional Coherence of the Books of Samuel on the Framework of the Four-S Model

The Four-S Model proposed by this study can be rightly applied to the Davidic Episode in order to show the mechanism that is at work in the compositional process which gave birth to such a narrative artifact of archaic nature. For a historical critic, the Davidic Episode is just part of a bigger Deuteronomistic history ( Joshua through 2Kings) which is made up of conflicting sources. On the other hand, the Four-S Model is an invitation to look upon them as complimentary sources. The confluence of those disparate sources was something ineluctable in the dynamic process of narrative taking shape in and through the temporal and spatial milieus. It is like the river Ganges emerging from the Himalayas and flowing down to its low plains, merging various sources in its course so as to make a whole. The varying sources may differ in the matter of content, quantity, quality, etc. In fact, that is what makes the river, the river Ganges. In the same way, the Davidic Episode is also a story which emerged from a narrative germ and came into its full entity, merging narrative sources of varying nature in content and form. As has already been proposed, these sources can be classified into four major groups: Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra. While their occurrence in the ancient Indian tradition can be distinguished as individual traditions, in the Davidic Episode they are interwoven in such a way that they are less worthy of being counted as distinct literary traditions. However, their presence in the shaping of narrative is dynamic, and that is their raison d’être for the compositional coherence which can be expounded as follows.

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Śruti (The Heard or The Revealed) Recapitulation of the Theme ➢  Śruti is the act of ‘hearing.’ The resonance of the primordial mystery is made known, experienced and personalised in the life of a person or community. ➢  It could be a vision or an intuition or an inspiration or an experience of primal nature. It is marked by naiveté and novelty. ➢  The cognitive authority of such an esoteric ‘hearing’ whose scope lies beyond empirical experience. ➢  This esoteric ‘hearing’ is the discovering or unveiling of the power of Vāk (Logos), the embodiment of Śruti. Vāk not merely contains revelation, rather it is revelation. ➢  The resonance of ‘hearing’ manifested in and through narrative expression has been ascribed to some supernatural sources or powers. ➢  Many attributes such as the Absolute, Brahman, God, word of God, voice of God, inspiration of God, revelation, etc. have been attached to that unique ‘hearing.’ ➢  The resonance of such attributes echoed through Vāk can be felt throughout the narration either by direct mention or indirect reference. Selective Specimens from the Books of Samuel ➢  Hannah’s experience in the temple (1 Sam 1) ➢  The boy Samuel’s experience in the temple (1 Sam 3) ➢  The capturing of the ark and the events that followed (1 Sam 4:1b– 1 Sam 7:1) ➢  Saul’s experience of being anointed by Samuel (1 Sam 10) ➢  Saul’s encounter with Samuel (1 Sam 15) ➢  David’s experience as the chosen one (1 Sam 16) ➢  Saul’s dialogue with the spirit of Samuel (1 Sam 28)

The Indian Point of Reference: Krauñcha Episode in the Rāmāyan. a Śruti is the basic constitutive strata of the Four-S Model. The embodiment of śruti is noticeable all the way through ancient Indian literature in the form of persons, events, supernatural beings and metaphysical concepts. Mostly it is through the characterisation and manifold manifestations of the events evolving through a story. The story of the Rāmāyaṇa is kicked off with an impressive incident narrated from the author Vālmīki’s own life. An epic concerning folks, tribes and gods is launched and the poetry is born with a very personal and emotional experience of the author. It occurs in a touching incident of krauñchavadha (murder of the Krauñcha bird) in the very beginning of the Rāmāyaṇa story (Bālakānda, Sarga 2, 15). Once, Vālmīki, on his way to Ganga Snaana (holy dip in the river Ganges), came

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across a stream ‘tamasa’ and decided to bathe in the stream. There he heard the sweet chirping of birds and saw two flying birds (Krauñcha) together. He was pleased to see the happy bird couple. Suddenly, the male bird fell from the sky after being hit by an arrow and wounded. The spouse-bird was screaming in agony. Then he realized that the bird was shot by a hunter. Vālmīki’s heart was overwhelmed with pity and suddenly came forth from his lips, the following Śloka: [maa nishada pratistham tvamagamahsāsvatI: samaa: yat kraunchamithunaadekam avadhI: kaamamohitam] (The Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakānda, Sarga 2, 15) [Since, niṣāda, you killed one of this pair of krauñchas, distracted at the height of passion, you shall not live for very long.]

The curse uttered by the sage Vālmīki upon the heartless hunter who killed the male of the Krauñcha pair happened to be a metrical melody unknown before in the Vedic meter. In this opening story of the Rāmāyaṇa, śoka (sorrow) which streams forth in its primordial form becomes śloka (verse; in a sense, narrative). It came to be designated śloka and became the standard verse form for all literary usages. “The śoka, (grief ) that the great seer sang out in four metrical quarters, all equal in syllables, has by virtue of its being repeated after him, become śloka, (poetry)” (The Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakānda, Sarga 2, 39). A literary critic can see how the great sage encapsulates the entire message of his epic in this allegory of a story. The tragic sentiment (karuṇa rasa) which it breathes foreshadows the burden of the Rāmāyaṇa as a whole. Most of the master poets allude to this episode to explain the sudden upsurge of creative inspiration. The Krauñcha episode of the Rāmāyaṇa displays profoundly the ‘wanting’ of Dhárma (righteousness) in the world, which eventually becomes the main theme of the storyline. The agony of the Krauñcha bird evoked the poetic sense of the author who burst out against the Adhárma (unrighteousness) of the hunter. By placing this incident right at the beginning of the Rāmāyaṇa epic, the narrator hints at the story to follow, where the battle between Dhárma and Adhárma prevails as the dominant theme.

The Biblical Point of Reference: Hannah’s Temple-Experience (1 Sam 1) Hannah’s temple-experience can reckon to be the foreshadowing of the story that follows. It has the resonance of śruti; śruti in the sense that it reveals something which has its bearing on both the natural and the supernatural in their primal and primordial forms, i.e. unaffected by sophistication and reasoning. We can ‘hear’ the primordial voice speaking in Hannah’s temple-experience. Hence, it is Śruti here

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at work. Some of its implications felt in the spatial and temporal milieus of the narrative will bring us closer to the point: ➢ The personal experience of an individual (here, Hannah) to launch a story of a communal nature, i.e. engaging kings, tribes, patriarchs, warriors, etc. ➢ The state of ‘wanting’ or ‘lacking’ or ‘inadequateness’ (here, the barren womb of Hannah) prepares the ground for intuition, inspiration or divine intervention (Śruti) and consequently for the new offspring of the storyline. ➢ Starting a story with a dominant emotional theme (here, the sorrow of Hannah) and it is regarded as a good starting point for telling a tale. Also it is pregnant with a ‘hidden agenda’ in which the story unfolds itself and foreshadows the main motif of the entire story. In the case of the Davidic Episode, the narrator intentionally and proficiently brings forth the agony of Hannah having a closed womb (… Lord has closed her womb. 1 Sam 1:6b) as a proper starting point for the story to follow. Let us ask a basic question: Why does a story of kings, kingdoms, warriors, wars, clans, gods, etc. start with an emotional theme concerning an individual, and even that of the agony of a woman? This can be answered in the framework of Śruti. It is the very nature of Śruti that the revelation (‘hearing’) or manifestation of something new takes place in the very flesh and blood, i.e. in the life of an individual encompassing his/her both emotional and rational spheres, before it is transferred to the community in the form of narration, either oral or written. The whole existential reality of a woman, of her being barren and, thereby, her sorrow prepares the ground for revelation, and consequently the story develops through different realms of Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra. The fundamental reality of Hannah’s barrenness and consequent agony and the divine intervention therein give the foretaste of the story and anticipate the theme that follows in the narration. The dominant theme of the Davidic Episode can be generated from the plot of Hannah’s temple-experience. There the narrator showcases the theme of barrenness in the matter of Dhárma, which is being epitomised in Hannah’s barren womb and which recurs in the following narrative. Hannah, at the peak of her agony, “pours out her heart before the Lord” (1 Sam 1:15b). That makes the divine intervention inevitable and as a result her “closed womb” opens up for a new avatar, Samuel, who is the embodiment of Vāk: Logos or the prophetic voice. From chapters one through three we can see how cleverly and phase by phase the narrator develops the theme of the deficiency of Dhárma, starting with the barrenness of Hannah, an ordinary individual, and progressing through the sins of the sons of Eli which concern the community as a whole. The barrenness of Hannah is the

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foreshadowing of Dhárma lacking in the community. In both cases, divine intervention is called for and is fulfilled with the offset of Samuel. Samuel is God’s answer (Śruti) to the Dhárma lacking in the life of the Israelite community. This community was like Hannah’s barren womb, not fruitful, closed to the voice of the Lord, and, therefore, like a worthless woman (1:16) who is in deep distress (1:10), anxiety and vexation (1:16). The whole act of the summoning of Samuel in the life of Hannah and in the life of the community is the enactment of Śruti, i.e. pouring out the soul before the Lord (1:15), finding favour in the sight of the Lord (1:18), opening the doors of the house of the Lord (3:15), being a trustworthy prophet of the Lord (3:20), hearing the word of the Lord (3:20), etc. The tension between Dhárma and Adhárma at the very plot related to Samuel’s birth and his becoming the prophet is a well-planned scheme of the narrator. This tension grows as the story develops and each time the Śruti aspect is called in to re-establish Dhárma. One can conclude with the assumption that the narrator cum redactor has placed the plot of Hannah’s experience in the temple and the following events as a good prelude to the Davidic Episode. There the unfolding of Śruti through different levels is one of his narrative devices, for example, how Śruti is blocked, evoked and consumed.

Sūtra (Aphoristic) Recapitulation of the Theme ➢  Sūtra literally means thread; some verses by their very nature of comprehensiveness and pithiness function as a connecting thread in the narrative fabric. ➢  It is best characterised by its aphoristic, condensed and laconic form. ➢  The compact, concrete and comprehensive nature of Sūtra signifies that it safeguards knowledge from disintegration. ➢  Sūtra requires expansion and elucidation in order to bring out the meaning fully and to accommodate the contemporary realities. Selective Specimens from the Books of Samuel ➢  “the Lord had closed her womb” (1 Sam 1:5,6) ➢  “the Lord remembered her” (1 Sam 1:19) ➢  “the Lord took note of Hannah” (1 Sam 2:21) ➢  “the word of the Lord was rare in those days” (1 Sam 3:1) ➢  “the ark of God has been captured” (1 Sam 4:22) ➢  “the glory has departed from Israel” (1 Sam 4:21) ➢  “the hand of the Lord was heavy upon the people of Ashdod” (1 Sam 5:6) ➢  “the hand of God was heavy there” (1 Sam 5:11)

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The Indian Point of Reference: Brahma Sūtras Sūtras of the Indian literary tradition play an important role in systematising and concisely stating the teaching and argumentatively establishing the wisdom of Śruti, Smṛti and Śāstra. For example, the Brahma Sūtras1 serves as a thread between the Upaniṣads of Vedic wisdom (Śruti) and the Bhagavad Gītā of the Mahābhārata epic (Smṛti). In its entirety, it stands as a compact and coherent whole stringing together various diverse literary streams and placing each one in a proper doctrinal context. More concretely, one verse or some verses of sūtra type in particular can also be the specimen of the whole. With regard to the Biblical narrative the latter is more applicable and, therefore, let us examine the first three verses of the Brahma Sūtras which are very prominent with regard to the ontogeny of Indian consciousness: अथातो ब्रह्मजिज्ञासा । ब्रसू-१,१.१ । Atha-Ato Brahma-Jijnasa [Now (then), therefore, the enquiry into Brahman] जन्माद्यस्य यतः । ब्रसू-१,१.२ । Janmadyasya Yatah [From which proceeds the origin] शास्त्रयोनित्वात् । ब्रसू-१,१.३ । Śāstra-Yonitvat [The scriptures being the means of right knowledge]

The word ‘Now (then)’ of the first sūtra verse gives one to understand that the wisdom which follows is sequential or consecutive and not the debut of a new remit. The enquiry into Brahman is in congruence with the antecedents, here in particular, the antecedent reading of the Védas. The enquiry into Brahman is to be undertaken subsequent to the attainment of religious disciplines expounded by the Védas. Knowledge thus constitutes the means by which the complete comprehension of Brahman is desired to be obtained. Hence, the desire of knowing Brahman is to be nurtured. The question now arises as to what the characteristics of that Brahman are, and the narrator therefore puts forward the following aphorism: “From which proceeds the origin.” Here we are led to the attributes of Brahman from which the birth and the evolution of the universe follow. Again the question comes up of how we can venture upon such an endeavour of enquiring into Brahman, and the narrator posits the next sūtra: “The scriptures being the means of right knowledge.” Brahman is the source or cause of Scripture consisting of the Védas, Purāṇas, etc. That is to say, Scripture is the means of right knowledge through which we understand the nature of Brahman.

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One could rightly point out that the above three Sūtra verses contain a world of wisdom which passes through various ancient literary traditions as if they are strung together. Such kinds of Sūtras preserve the wisdom-line passing through Vedic, Purāṇic and Itihāsic or more generally, Śruti, Smṛti and Śāstra narratives in the laconic and aphoristic form. The enquiry into Brahman and its ‘why,’ ‘what’ and ‘how’ are the subject matter of the varying narratives. For example, the investigation of the Védas is more ontological and, on the other hand, the Bhagavad Gītā’s is more phenomenological.2 However, in both instances the Brahman is enquired into, although the nature of the enquiry differs. Sūtras bring them into one garland leaving room for expansion and elucidation and that is the integrity and beauty of the narrative.

The Biblical Point of Reference: Temple Narrative (1 Sam 1–3) and Ark Narrative (1 Sam 4–7) In the context of the Davidic Episode, Sūtras are not as explicit as in the Indian literary tradition. They are interwoven in the mainstream narrative and we have to trace it out by means of some literary features and connections, such as, ➢ ➢ ➢ ➢ ➢

repetition of the theme in the consecutive plots. beginning and concluding a plot with similar point of view or focalization. focus on some motifs by narrator’s own voice, interventions and rendering. parallels found in the use of analogies, typologies, symbolisms, etc. abrupt narrative shifts in the course of the progression of the story.

A close reading of the text will help us to identify these underlying features, which, in fact, provide the clue to Sūtras. They are the verses that string together different plots and themes to form a storyline. How some verses assume the attributes of Sūtras and what narrative purpose they serve can be exposed through a narrative appreciation of 1 Sam 1–7. These chapters could be brought under two broad narrative plots: chs. 1–3 as Temple Narrative and chs. 4–7 as Ark Narrative.3 Temple Narrative is named such because the main events in this section take place in and around the temple and the main characters’ spatial and temporal aspects revolve around the temple. The chapters following are named Ark Narrative, because the Ark of God is the focal point of this narrative segment. These two plots are stitched together with some condensed, aphoristic and laconic verses. They typify the outlook of the story in general and of the plots in particular. At the beginning of the Temple Narrative, the repeated mention of ‘the Lord had closed her womb’ is pregnant with meaning. It is a Sūtra which is characterised

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by its comprehensiveness and pithiness. ‘God closing her womb’ typifies and anticipates something that the narrator is going to reveal. Again ‘God remembered or took note of Hannah’ is a Sūtra that threads together the wisdom behind the events before and after. The plots in between carry the echoes of the wisdom contained in those Sūtras. The characters come and go in between supporting and embellishing the connecting themes conceived in Sūtras. Śruti, Smṛti and Śāstra get their share in a proportionate narrative space according to the best choice of the narrator. In this strategic manoeuvring, the Sūtras hold together the themes, characters and plots like a thread and keep the focal point from disintegrating. Śruti, Smṛti and Śāstra expand and enlarge what Sūtra contains and rightly find answers to the questions that come up in the mind of the reader. For example, ‘the Lord had closed her womb’ raises the curiosity of the reader, who seeks satisfaction through further explanation: how Hannah handles it, what is the consequence of it, etc. There the reader is led to the avenues of Śruti, Smṛti and Śāstra to reach the core of the story. This is a back-and-forth movement through the thread of Sūtras. Similarly ‘the Lord had closed her womb’ (1:5) in the Temple Narrative and ‘the glory has departed from Israel’ (4:21) in the Ark Narrative have been brought into a single narrative framework. In this framework ‘the word of the Lord was rare in those days’ (3:1) brings us closer to the point of view which is the subject matter of both narratives. A temple despised by the sons of Eli is like a closed womb and Samuel becomes the ‘opener’ of both—“Samuel … opened the doors of the house of the Lord” (3:15). An Israel without the Ark of God is also like a barren womb deprived of God’s glory and Samuel becomes the ‘restorer’—“… he (Samuel) … built there an altar to the Lord” (7:17b). ‘The favour of God’ (1:18) and ‘the glory of God’ (4:21) are absent and this makes the intervention of God inevitable. So ‘God remembered or took note of Hannah’ to restore the original status of her womb, Samuel ‘opens the doors of the house of the Lord’ to be His prophet and priest and ‘the hand of the Lord was heavy upon the people of Ashdod’ to restore the original status of the Ark, i.e. the Ark in the midst of the Israelites. Here we can notice one string (Sūtra) passing through the closed womb—despised temple—captured Ark—and as a result the departed glory, while the other string passes through the effort of the Lord to restore them to their original status. The merging of these two strings together forms the story and in this story Samuel is the protagonist and God is a shadow character who controls the whole course of the story and brings fruit in and through Samuel in spite of all kinds of ‘barrenness’—closed womb, despised temple, captured Ark and departed glory. This kind of narrative coherence exhibited above with the device of Sūtra clearly points to the fact that the narrative in concern is not a patchwork of random bits and pieces, but indeed a work of art. It is a work of art with definite design and determination.

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Smr ti (The Remembered) Recapitulation of the Theme ➢  Recollection and retrospection in the form of historiography, stories, tales, descriptions, discourses, didactics, epics, psalms, prophecies, etc. ➢  Recording and codifying the individual and collective experiences which can be looked upon as ‘tradition.’ ➢  In the context of Smṛti are included appropriation, reliving, learning, and guidance. ➢  The narrative of Smṛti is the outcome of a process of probing, interrogating, debating and mediating. ➢  It recalls exemplary figures and events that have shaped the past. ➢  Smṛti is a great storyteller, myth-maker, codifier, teacher, punisher, rewarder and guide. Selective Specimens from the Books of Samuel ➢  The canticle of Hannah (1 Sam 2:1–10) ➢  A man of God to Eli (1 Sam 2:27–36) ➢  Samuel to the people in Gilgal (1 Sam 12:1–12)

The Indian Point of Reference: The Bhagavad Gītā in Relation to the Mahābhārata The Smṛti genre of Indian tradition contains a vast body of literature which makes the wisdom of the past temporally and spatially accessible and anew. The two great epics of India, the Mahābhārata and the Rāmāyaṇa, are exemplary in this regard. Both of them are in a sense on a par with the Védas and they reprise the Śruti of canonical Védas by means of recitation, re-telling and elucidation. Thus, the scriptural authority of the Śruti tradition is shared by these texts, and the religious experience and the way of life they posit are legitimized. This kind of Smṛti taking shape by way of numerous interpolations and additions is looked upon by the historical critical approach as corruption and perversion of the original text by deviations of various kinds with the passage of time. The Bhagavad Gītā is a typical example of such a conception. Some scholars are of the opinion that it does not belong to the mainstream narrative of the great epic, The Mahābhārata. “Although western scholarship often veers around to the view that the Bhagavad Gītā or ‘The Lord’s Song’ is a wholesale interpolation into the epic, this view goes against the earliest poetic as well as philosophical tradition in India, which views the Gītā as an integral part of the epic” (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 36). The unique importance attached to this great composition, the Bhagavad Gītā, as an integral part of the Mahābhārata is thus a matter of tradition, not of scientific reasoning. Ancient Indian literary tradition is by nature a plural phenomenon, adapting to context and circumstances.

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Therefore, the later additions to a basic narrative are an essential corollary of the narrative composition and part of the organic growth. It implies that the focalization of the so-called interpolations is not extraneous to what intervenes. Events, plots, characters etc. unfolded in the Mahābhārata in the form of stories, tales and myths bear the resonance of the Vedic wisdom, and the Bhagavad Gītā is the summit of it in the form of discourses and didactics. That makes the wisdom already manifested in Śruti more accessible and appealing to the common folk. It wasn’t long before the practice developed whereby a text that was not the Véda was claimed to be the repository of saving or liberating knowledge in so far as it performed the function of substituting for the Véda or ‘re-collecting’ in some way essential Vedic content. This process seems to have begun when the canonical Véda was nearing completion. Thus the Mahābhārata (abbr. Mbh., ca. 400 BCE.—400 CE), one of Hinduism’s two great epic compositions in Sanskrit, goes so far as to make itself equal to the Védas. It is important to note that the wisdom of the Mbh., based as it was on sacred lore (Smṛti) rather than on the esoteric hearing (śruti) that comprised the original Véda, was meant to be accessible to all, to men and to women, to high and low caste alike. (Lipner 2010:70)

Here Smṛti performs as a great storyteller, myth-maker, codifier, teacher, punisher, rewarder and guide. The central figures and plots of the epic become salient patterns of Vedic teaching. Lord Kṛṣṇa himself is made to deliver the sermon to his devoted disciple Arjuna at the very beginning of the great battle before the actual fighting starts. … The lord clears the mist from his mind in his disquisitions on truth, knowledge, action, life, death, etc. He also shows Arjuna his omniform to help convince him that God has pre-decreed everything and man cannot change the divine order. The gospel of niṣkāma karma (desireless action) is harmonized with the philosophy of self-realisation (jñañayoga) on the one hand and with religious devotion (bhaktiyoga) on the other. This three-fold teaching has become the Bible of Hindu religion down the centuries. (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 36)

The characters such as Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna, plots such as the battlefield of Kurukshethra, the battle for Dhárma, the wavering nature of the valiant Arjuna, the avatar figure of Kṛṣṇa, etc., make the Vedic wisdom efficacious in an entirely different form which is conceived as Smṛti. Smṛti in this respect, i.e. recalling the things of the past by way of tales, psalms, eulogies, prophesies, discourses, etc., forms an integral part of the narrative fabric of ancient Indian literary tradition.

The Biblical Point of Reference: The Canticle of Hannah The variety of material that counts for Smṛti in the Biblical narrative too is immense. These materials support Śruti directly or indirectly and are corroborative

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of scripture. But, applying Smṛti is a subjective exercise especially in the case of Biblical narrative. One has to sort it out from the overlapping narrative material of Śruti, Sūtra and Śāstra. This study seeks to understand the nuances underlying Smṛti and its salient landmarks in the narrative sphere of the Davidic Episode. It finds the canticle of Hannah (1 Sam 2:1–10) as an ideal specimen to show how Smṛti fits into the narrative space in the framework of the Four-S Model. Setting the plot for Smṛti: In the narrative setting, the Canticle of Hannah gets a proper and proportionate share. It is rightly situated between two contrasting experiences of the temple: Before the Canticle, Hannah finding favour in the sight of the Lord (1:18) in the temple, and after the Canticle, the sin of the sons of Eli being very great in the sight of the Lord (2:17) concerning the temple ministry. Any skilled narrator or composer could make use of the narrative space in between these contrasting scenes to incorporate a piece of Smṛti (the Canticle) to give more flesh and blood to the story. The following chart will give a general idea of the setting:

Figure 21.  The Canticle of Hannah—Setting the Plot for Smṛti.

For Hannah, the temple is a place where she humbles herself and finds power and strength in the Lord; whereas for the sons of Eli, the temple is a place where they become scoundrels and abuse their power and strength as sons of the High Priest. These contrasting situations give the narrator flexibility to interlude Smṛti in order

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to give a retrospection and introspection of what they experienced of the Lord in the past: how God treats the humble like Hannah and the wicked like the sons of Eli. What happened in the case of Hannah who spent time in prayer and pouring out her heart before the Lord; and what happened to the sons of Eli who had no regard for the Lord and who treated the offerings of the Lord with contempt. The answer to these questions is unfolded in the Canticle. There is no Holy One like the Lord. (2:2) The Lord is God of knowledge. (2:3) The Lord is a God of the feeble and the poor. (2:45) The Lord kills and brings to life. (2:6) The Lord will judge the ends of the earth. (2:10). These and the other attributes and the works of the Lord recounted in the form of a canticle manifest God’s varying ways of intervention in the preceding and succeeding plots of contrasting nature: Alluded to the preceding plot related to Hannah Feeble Who were hungry Barren Poor Faithful Anointed

Alluded to the succeeding plot related to the sons of Eli Mighty Who were full Who has many Rich Wicked Adversaries

Figure 22.  Temple Narrative and Ark Narrative.

In conclusion, the Canticle deciphers the reality and the consequence of this contrast. It witnesses and proclaims the truth that, on the one hand, God can bring life, fruit or richness out of barrenness and on the other hand, God can impoverish and bring punishment. The virtues Hannah stands for bring life and victory to the tribe; but the vices the sons of Eli stand for bring death and ruin to the tribe. This fact is being embellished in the form of a hymn; for the hymn creates the atmosphere of prayer where people pay heed to the message closely and the hymn has the power to pierce the message into the heart. Fitting Smṛti properly to the narrative gap: The Canticle of Hannah fills the narrative gap before shifting to another plot. The narrator finds a logical verse to fit the Canticle immediately after the plot that narrates Hannah’s temple experience. In the first plot we see, “Hannah was praying silently; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard …” (1:13). Here her voice was not heard; but in the Canticle her voice was heard. Her voice was not heard, because she was deeply distressed (1:10); but once her petition was granted (1:17), her voice was heard, because her heart exults (2:1). To make this shift from one mental disposition to the other, the narrator makes use of Smṛti in the form of the Canticle. It is also an indication that a prophet is born and his voice is heard.

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Again, the succeeding plot begins with the narrative pattern ‘Now’: “Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the Lord” (2:12). It indicates that the point of view that follows is consecutive. ‘Now’ points to the fact that the shift in the plot is going to take place; however, this shift is the antecedent reading of the Canticle and of the preceding plot. God’s plan of action (manifesto) to tackle the problem involved in the plot related to the sons of Eli is already manifested in the Canticle. God is no more silent and His voice is heard and hence there comes forth a prophet. Not only that, God will even exalt the power of his anointed (2:10), i.e. the prophecy about kingship. A natural transition from priesthood to prophethood and to kingship is implied here. The Canticle is an assurance to the people that although the sons of Eli had no regard for the Lord, the Lord will carry on his mission promised to their ancestors, through means other than the succession of their priesthood. In every way, the Canticle is a perfect specimen of Smṛti being very much part of the narrative artefact.

Śāstra (Scientific Treatise) Recapitulation of the Theme ➢  Śāstra literally means science. The science it conveys is the outcome of experience and erudition, deliberation and discernment. ➢  The Śāstra can refer to an authoritative text in general. ➢  Śāstra is meant to serve as guidelines for right living and the art of living. ➢  Śāstra addresses the increasingly complex needs of the society. ➢  Śāstra has been developed into separate narrative treatises and codes. ➢  Scripture as such is also seen as Śāstra. Selective Specimens from the Books of Samuel ➢  The duty (Dhárma) of a priest (1 Sam 2) ➢  The duty (Dhárma) of a king (1 Sam 15) ➢  How to make compensation (1 Sam 6) ➢  How to fast and make offering (1 Sam 7)

The Indian Point of Reference: Dhármaśāstra (धर्मशास्त्र) The concept of Śāstra is all-encompassing in the ancient Indian literary tradition. As previously said, the scripture in its traditional sense as such can be Śāstra and more particularly it has to do with the treatises and codes for right living. In the latter sense, the Dhármaśāstra4 is one of the most authoritative and esteemed Śāstras right through the centuries. Therefore, this study finds that Dhármaśāstra can best illustrate how the concept of Śāstras works out in the narrative realm.

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Dhárma5 serves as a normative concept and as a reference point for action in day-to-day life. It is believed to be rooted in Védas, i.e. Śruti, and has been constantly re-worked in order to adapt to the new demands of life. Dhárma purports to give comprehensive didactics on how those within the Vedic mythos in different walks and circumstances of life should act. So Dhárma is that which acceptably upholds private and public order, whether by recommending social, moral or religious rules, or by marking the characteristic nature of things. Because it is such a comprehensive and elusive term, it is impossible to translate into English by a single word; it has been variously translated by ‘law’, ‘property’, ‘virtue’, ‘merit’, ‘propriety’, ‘morality’, ‘religion’ etc. depending on context. (Lipner 2010:70)

To constitute, preserve and implement this Dhárma, there evolved many Śāstras which were gathered under the nomenclature, Dhármaśāstra. The Dhármaśāstra is meant for the purpose of maintaining or preserving the moral, social and political order. It forms the basis for the social and religious code of conduct. Conventionally, the Dhármaśāstra lays out three major themes: ācāra (practice), vyavahāra (procedure) and prāyaścitta (penance). a. ācāra (practice): Ācāra comprises of conventions of practice, in a sense ‘right practice’ and rules pertaining to daily rituals, life-cycle rites such as sacraments, and other duties of the four castes. Mainly it points to the rules governing obligations and proper conduct for all the varṇas and Āśramas the four stages of life and their duties.6 The traditional way of performing sacrifices, funerary and ancestral rites, customs proper to giving and receiving gifts, practices and regulations related to eating food and abstaining from it, etc. constitute the śāstra of ācāra. b. vyavahāra (procedure): Vyavahāra postulates rules of the procedures for resolving doubts about dhárma and rules of substantive law. For example, the duties and obligations of a king are closely intertwined with punishment and legal procedure. The Dhármaśāstras address legal matters such as listening to and assessing witnesses and their testimony, deciding and enforcing punishment, and the pursuit of justice in the face of injustice. c. prāyaścitta (penance): Prāyaścitta contains rules about expiations and penances for violations of the rules of dhárma. It includes the rules for renunciation, i.e. who is allowed to renounce as a sannyasin (ascetic), from which of the āśramas they may renounce, and what implications their status as ritually dead has on their legal and social standing. Different categories of sins and the corresponding expiations and penances, such as going for Pilgrimage, are the matters of its interest. The clutches of Karma in life and its consequences are also explicated.

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The above-delineated theme is one of the subject matters among the manifold codes and treatises of the Dhármaśāstra. Here narration takes the form of wisdom in praxis. Some extracts from the ancient texts regarding the duty of the king (rāja-dhárma) will further elucidate this topic. Rāja-dhárma: According to the Dhármaśāstra, the king, as the conduit for divine power, should be regarded as divinely ordained or partially divine (Deva) himself by virtue of his consecration (abhiṣeka). Moreover, the ideal king is ‘universal ruler’ (cakravartin) who is the embodiment of physical and spiritual perfection and who ritually unites the kingdom in his person. Portraying this identification of the temporal and the spiritual, gods and other divine beings are often depicted with the order of kingship. The practical corollary of this concept of kingship is that it is the special duty of the king to protect, to punish, and to preserve dhárma and to maintain social order to keep the kingdom in its entirety. Rāja-dhárma narrated in the Dhármaśāstra springs from a confluence of two textual sources: the priestly ritual codes on the one hand, and the ‘political science’ (Artha śāstra) tradition on the other. dharmaśāstrarthaśāstrabhyam avirodhena margataḥ | samīksamaṇo nipuṇaṃ vyavaharagatiṃ nayet || (NSm 1.31)7 The one who hears a case should conduct the legal proceedings skilfully, so that there will be no contradiction between the texts on Dhárma and the texts on polity.

A distinction between the principles of Dhárma and principles of Artha in legal affairs (vyavahāra) is clearly maintained. Both come within the purview of the king, however, in the case of the principles of Dhárma, the pundits (olden days Brahmins) and especially seers and sages have greater authority, weight and range of applicability than the personal judgment of the king, because they are taken to be indirect witnesses for Śruti. aniyukto niyukto va śastrajño vaktum arhati | daivīṃ Vākaṃ sa vadati yaḥ śāstram upajīvati || (NSm 3.1) One who knows the ˙Śāstra ought to speak whether or not he has been appointed. One who lives by the ˙Śāstra speaks with divine authority.

Here we construe that the king has the authority to enforce Dhárma, though in principle he should do so in accordance with Dhárma, which is guaranteed and safeguarded by the learned people. However, the sphere of vyavahāra (procedure) comes solely under the stewardship of the king.

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nasṣṭe dharma manuṣyesu vyavaharaḥ pravartate | draṣṭā ca vyavaharārāṇām raja daṇḍadharaḥ kṛtaḥ | (NSm 1.1–2) Vyavahāra came into being at the time when Dhárma was lost among men. The overseer of vyavahāra is the king; he has been made the staff-wielder.

In practice, although the king presides over vyavahāra, the sphere of vyavahāra itself is valid only insofar as it remains in accord with the higher principle of Dhárma, which is embodied in the authoritative texts of the Dhármaśāstra. There is also a notable account of the origin of Rāja-dhárma in the Mahābhārata. The major section discussing various aspects of this Śāstra forms part of Shantiparvam.8 Some scholars look upon it as an interpolation to the main story of the epic. It has been so ridiculed because of the lack of awareness about the complexity of the Indian narrative. The Śāstra of Rāja-dhárma unfolds itself in order to make the ancient wisdom more down-to-earth at the offset of the great story. After the great Mahābhārata war, the winning group of Pāṇḍavas headed by the eldest of them, Yudhiṣṭhira, approaches their grandfather Bhishma for guidance in running the administration of the state. Bhishma was lying on the bed of thorns (shara shayya) in the war field and waiting for his death. Yudhiṣṭhira requests Bhishma to direct him in the ways of good governance. The main theme of this part of the Mahābhārata is the functions, duties, role and characteristics of a good and dutiful king. एवम उक्तः स च मुनिर धर्मराजेन नारदः आचचक्षे यथावृत्तं सुवर्णष्ठीविनं परति (Mbh. 31.2) It is the duty of the king to seek and promote the welfare of its subject. पराज्ञॊ नयायगुणॊपेतः पररन्ध्रेषु तत्परः सुदर्शः सर्ववर्णानां नयापनयवित तथा कषिप्रकारी जितक्रॊधः सुप्रसादॊ महामनाः अरॊग परकृतिर युक्तः करिया वान अविकत्थनः आरब्धान्य एव कार्याणि न पर्यवसितानि च यस्य राज्ञः परदृश्यन्ते स राजा राजसत्तमः (Mbh. 57.30–32) The best king possesses the following qualities: intellect, renunciation, awareness of the weaknesses of the enemies, good looks, capacity to be fair and just to all the sub-sections, quickness in decision, softness in behaviour, industrious, hardworking, far sightedness, indifference to self-pride and control over anger.

The aftermath of the bloodshed of war creates a sense of alienation in the mind of the designated king, Yudhiṣṭhira, as he had to build up his kingdom from the ruins of his own relatives, friends and gurus. In this backdrop, the aspect of Śāstra involving Rāja-dhárma has been aptly embedded in the main story by the narrator. We can explore this kind of narrative device all through the ancient Indian narrative tradition.

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The Biblical Point of Reference: Rāja-dhárma and Saul’s Transgression (1 Sam 15) As in the case of Śruti, Sūtra and Smṛti, the aspect of Śāstra too is substantially implanted in the organism of the biblical narrative. There are many uneven instances of Śāstra recurring in the Davidic Episode. Mostly they are related to any one event or array of events. Depending on the storyline, the narrative twist effected by the narrative trajectory of the actant or the consequences of the event could turn out to be good occasions to spell out the Śāstra regarding Dhárma. The theme of the narrative didactics varies according to the nature of the event or plot. Śāstras concerning practices, procedures and penances, that have been discussed above, are among them. Either the positive or the negative outcome of the action prepares the ground for employing Śāstra. They are Śāstras not just for the sake of Śāstra, but for the sake of Śruti, passed down through Sūtra and Smṛti. Śāstra making many such inroads can be explored from the narrative planes of the Books of Samuel. One such narrative plot is 1 Samuel 15 where the story of Saul’s war against the Amalekites and incidents following it and the discussion on the Rāja-dhárma are narrated. At the behest of Samuel, Saul defeats the Amalekites. But, against the will of Samuel, King Saul allows his army to spare the best items from the spoils of war which he had been commanded by God through Samuel to destroy, that which was meant for total destruction and consummation. This act of disobedience enrages Samuel and consequently the wisdom of śruti is being called into action in the concrete case and situation. Here śruti takes the form of Śāstra—Dhármaśāstra concerning rāja-dhárma. How does it take place and what are the focal points of this narrative scheme? This study arrives at some conclusions keeping in mind the Indian points of reference mentioned above. ➢ ➢ ➢ ➢ ➢

‘The voice of the Lord’ surpasses ‘the voice of the people.’ The Prophet is the one who safeguards rāja-dhárma. The procedure (vyavahāra) of adjudication in the form of dialogue. Śāstra is authoritative in its own right. Contextual analogy to highlight a particular aspect of Dhárma.

This is one way of Śāstra evolving itself. Here rāja-dhárma evolves itself out of an event and it takes shape through various narrative devices and dimensions. To have a closer look at them, we need a narrative analysis of the above highlighted points in reference to the text in consideration. ‘The voice of the Lord’ surpasses ‘the voice of the people’: The main accusation against Saul by Samuel that we see in this plot is that he has not obeyed ‘the

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voice of the Lord’ (15:19, 20, 24). ‘The voice of the Lord’ here stands for śruti to which Śāstra has always been recourse for its authenticity and plausibility. Allowing the people to take the best of things from the spoils of war transgressed ‘the voice of the Lord’ in favour of ‘the voice of the people’. It was an act which violated the norms of right governance and the ethics of war which were legitimated by ‘the voice of the Lord.’ Here the basic nature of Śāstra is unfolded that must be congruent with śruti. In this manner, Rāja-dhárma (the science of good governance) evolving itself as a Śāstra is a narrative future of the Old Testament narrative as well. The Prophet is the one who safeguards rāja-dhárma: The prophet Samuel has greater authority, weight and range of applicability than the personal judgment of the king (here Saul) in the matter of rāja-dhárma, because he is taken to be an indirect witness for Śruti. Saul tries to justify his action saying that the people spared the sheep and the cattle, to sacrifice to the Lord your God (15:15b). Samuel immediately interferes and stops Saul speaking: “Stop! I will tell you what the Lord said to me last night.” (15:16a) Saul keeps quiet to let Samuel speak, saying “speak.” (15:16b) Samuel in his capacity as the prophet of the Lord has got the upper hand in the matter of safeguarding rāja-dhárma and, therefore, he ‘stops’ the King Saul speaking in order to make him aware that he has transgressed the rules of Dhárma. Although Saul as King is the sole authority over matters regarding governance, Śāstra places the power of śruti invested in and manifested through people like prophets over the power of Kingship. In this way rāja-dhárma is safeguarded as a Śāstra. The procedure (vyavahāra) of adjudication in the form of dialogue: An assessing the culpable act and making the culprit aware of its moral bearing on him/her takes place in the form of dialogue. Here Samuel enters into a dialogue with Saul. He poses many questions and evokes Saul’s response: ➢ “What then is this bleating of sheep in my ears, and the lowing of cattle that I hear?” (15:14) ➢ “Though you are little in your own eyes, are you not the head of the tribes of Israel?” (15:17a) ➢ “Why then did you not obey the voice of the LORD?” (15:19a) ➢ “Why did you swoop down on the spoil, and do what was evil in the sight of the LORD?” (15:19b) ➢ “Has the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the LORD?” (15:22) This kind of a procedure sounds like a court trial in which Samuel acts like an advocate of the Lord. He makes the accused aware of the gravity of the transgression

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through a dialogical encounter. The accused slowly comes to self-realisation which leads him to accept penance (prāyaścitta). Saul said to Samuel, “I have sinned; for I have transgressed the commandment of the LORD and your words, because I feared the people and obeyed their voice” (15:24). The procedure (vyavahāra) leading to penance (prāyaścitta) forms part of the Śāstra of rāja-dhárma. Śāstra is authoritative in its own right: Śāstra is not grounded on the personal merit of its mediator, monitor or mentor. Even prophet and king are bound to fall in line with the corresponding Śāstra which has its recourse only to śruti. The practical wisdom drawn out in Śāstra has a moral bearing on both Samuel and Saul irrespective of their being prophet or king. Saul had to bear the consequences of his transgression. Saul said to Samuel, “I have sinned; for I have transgressed the commandment of the LORD and your words, because I feared the people and obeyed their voice. Now therefore, I pray, pardon my sin, and return with me, so that I may worship the LORD” (15:24). Although Samuel sympathised with Saul (… Samuel grieved over Saul … 15:35), he had no other option but to pronounce punishment for the transgression. Samuel said to Saul, “I will not return with you; for you have rejected the word of the LORD, and the LORD has rejected you from being king over Israel” (15:26). The rules of Dhárma act upon the transgressor (Saul) irrespective of the mediator’s (Samuel’s) personal disposition. Punishment is a corollary of the violation of the rules of Dhárma, no matter how the mediator (prophet) responds to it. Contextual analogy to highlight a particular aspect of Dhárma: An analogy arising from the context gives some indications to the focal point regarding the Śāstra in discussion. For example, from the Indian point of reference, lying on the bed of thorns (shara shayya), Bhishma gives instruction to the designated king Yudhiṣṭhira: the ways of good governance. Giving instruction lying on the bed of thorns about the functions, duties, role and characteristics of a good and dutiful king is an indication that the new throne will be a thorn for Yudhiṣṭhira; a kingship in conformity with rāja-dhárma may not be a bed of roses. Again, from the biblical point of reference, Saul tears the hem of the robe of Samuel as he catches hold of it (15:27). Then the narrator illustrates further through the words of Samuel: “The LORD has torn the kingdom of Israel from you this very day, and has given it to a neighbour of yours, who is better than you … .” This analogy clearly points to the helplessness of Samuel in the matter of the practical consequences Saul has to face as a result of the transgression of the rules of Dhárma. Dhárma has its own way and it will march on (‘Samuel turned to go away …’). Catching hold of it to make compromises will only cause rupture (… Saul caught hold of the hem of his robe, and it tore.). Such an analogical way of presenting the message of a Śāstra has got clarity of thought and strong impact.

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The Davidic Episode as seen in the light of the poetics underlying the proposed Four-S Model has been the point of the above discussion. As a result, this study comes to the conclusion that the aspects of the Four-S Model of the ancient Indian narrative can be rightly employed in the appreciation of the Biblical narrative as well. An attempt to explore and assort those aspects, i.e. Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra, from the narrative fabric will open up a world of literary aesthetics and will enable one to appreciate the literary beauty more profoundly and holistically. The above discussion around the setting of the Four-S Model as a paradigm has been an attempt to see how śruti is embodied in and through the characters and events of a story; how its manifold manifestations unfold themselves through Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra, and what kind of implications they have in the general setting of the narrative.

chapter five

The Basic Models of the Indian Narrative Paradigm towards the Appreciation of the Davidic Episode

The basic Indian narrative paradigms, Vedic (cryptic), Purāṇic (mythic) and Itihāsic (epic), as proposed by this study, are perfectly in congruence with the narrative fabric of the Davidic Episode. Modern biblical scholarship has already made some reference to this kind of unique narrative artistry which led to a major shift in the literary activity of the ancient Near East. Such narrative activity is seen by some scholars as the ushering in of a new decisive period of the Hebrew narrative which is different from the older Near Eastern literatures. This new shift is characterised by two things: prose historiography or historicised prose and poetic epic. Thus the great historical narratives like the David story cannot be compared directly to earlier historiography such as the Babylonian Chronicles or Hittite “Apology of Hattušiliš.” Rather, I believe that biblical historiography can best be understood as the result of a confluence of the techniques and themes of prose historiography with those of poetic epic. The assimilation of historiography and epic towards each other was already under way in Mesopotamia in the second millennium BC, and this process accelerated and was redirected in the Hebrew tradition (Damrosch 1991:3). The new shift which came about in the narrative artistry prepared the way for new narrative paradigms. Literary ‘turns’ in the narrative formation such as these, which were the confluence of techniques and themes of prose historiography

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with those of poetic epic, took various shapes and forms. Ancient Indian narrative tradition also witnessed similar narrative formation that can be characterised into three main paradigms: Vedic (cryptic), Purāṇic (mythic) and Itihāsic (epic). An attempt to locate them in the Davidic Episode will help an Indian reader to be more at home with the Biblical narrative. The narrative features and the horizon of each paradigm have already been dealt with in the third chapter. Hence, the following discussion will be devoted to show how they form part of the biblical narrative with direct reference to the Davidic Episode.

Vedic (Cryptic) The Indian Point of Reference: Indra-Hymns in the R. gvéda The most ancient Indian narrative artistry finds its expression in the Vedic form. It can be best characterised as cryptic, although it does not bring out the full features of the Vedic model. As has already been stated, encrypting or fictional narration is a common device used in folklore, in the Rāmāyaṇa and the Mahābhārata as well. However, the Védas are exemplary in this regard and they best represent this narrative paradigm. Therefore, this study finds it proper to showcase a hymn with encrypted narrative elements from the Ṛgvéda II.12 where Indra, the rain-god, is being exalted. Who, the first spirited god, as soon as born, sought to overpower the (other) gods with his insight, before whose fierce breath, manly power, trembled the two worlds— he, oh men, is Indra. Who made firm the quaking earth, who steadied the shaken mountains, who measured out the extensive mid-region, who gave support to the heaven— he, oh men, is Indra. Who, having killed the serpent, freed the seven rivers, who drove forth the cows from below the cave of Vala, who begot the fire between two rocks, the spoiler in battles— he, oh men, is Indra.

…………………………………………….

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In whose supreme control are the horses, the cows, the armies, and all chariots, he who has created the sun, the dawn, who leads the waters— he, oh men, is Indra.

…………………………………………… Without whom people do not win; whom they, when fighting, call for help; he who has been the match for all, who moves the immovable— he, oh men, is Indra. Who has struck down with arrow many sinners; who does not forgive the insolence of one who provokes him, who is the slayer of Dasyu— he, oh men, is Indra. He who found out in the fortieth autumn, Śambara, as he dwelt among the mountains; who killed the serpent growing in strength, the demon lying there— he, oh men, is Indra. Who, the impetuous bull, holding seven reins set free the seven rivers to flow; who, with thunderbolt on his arm, knocked down Rauhina as he scaled the heaven— he, oh men, is Indra. Even the heaven and the earth bow down before him: before his breath the mountains tremble; who is known as the drinker of soma, who as one armed with thunder wields the blot— he, oh men, is Indra. (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 69–71)

These versified texts are primarily meant for prayer. A prayer mainly includes praise offered by the worshiper, and always has a purpose behind it. The verses are imbued with the power of Vāk (word or logos) and the invocation of the Vāk could take place both in a cultic context and also in a narrative context. Although here

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we are more concerned about the narrative context, it is good to have a glimpse at the cultic context. In the cultic context when the verses are uttered, the sense of the words would be hard to discern for a spectator. It was not the kind of ‘meaningful’ performance one could expect, say, when hymns or psalms are sung in a Christian Church. But where the Vedic ritual was concerned, this kind of meaning was not quite the point. The point was that by their intoning and mutterings and extended chanting of the text, accompanied by the bodily movements, the Vedic priests were establishing resonances, connections, a measure of equilibrium, between the higher cosmic powers and their world so as to carve out a viable existence for themselves and their constituencies in a potentially hostile and unpredictable environment. (Lipner 2010:42–43)

The uniqueness lies in the composition of hymns in a range of metres, each with a particular rhythm and the stylised bodily gestures which express and actualise their potency. This kind of endeavour resulted in the exploration of the intricacies of sound and utterance which in turn produced sophisticated grammatical and semantic texts. The spiritual aspect of sound seems to have made a deep impression upon their (Hindus’) mind and left its stamp on their whole outlook regarding śabda. The sabdikas succeeded in discovering a way of spiritual discipline even through the labyrinthine mass of grammatical speculations. Enquiries into the ultimate nature of Vāk led them to a sublime region of sādhanā—a region of perfect bliss and pure consciousness. The cultivation of grammar gave rise to a spiritual vision which, to speak, enabled the vag-yogavid to visualise Brahman in the wreath of letters (varnamala). Letters are denoted in Sanskrit by the same term (akṣara) as is often applied to Brahman. A glance at the language in which akṣara has been interpreted by grammarians of old will serve to open our eyes to the supreme importance of varnas. (Krishnamachariar 2004:vii)

Words are endowed with subtle and pictorial form which blossoms into narration. Thus, stylised and evocative hymns were composed, resonant with ancient myths, metaphors, legends and life aspirations. Although they are hymns in lyrical form, many of them interiorise certain kinds of narratives which can be elaborated into stories or episodes. They are cryptic, because they hold back so much from the reader, who is thereby provoked by the narrative plots. The rich narrative potential they contain leaves much room for imagination and interpretation, which eventually find their embodiment in full-fledged myths, stories, tales, psalms, etc. Such a manner of encrypting the narrative framework as described above gives birth to hymns.

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The hymns on Indra contain many encrypted narratives illustrating his nature and deeds. In the Ṛgvéda he is addressed or lauded in about 300 hymns, more than any other deva (deity). Indra is revered as the martial, virile leader, deva of storm and thunder, who is invoked in the battle against the enemies of the Aryans. A recurring theme in the Ṛgvéda is that of Indra slaying the serpent Vṛtra, the serpent-like monster(s) who block(s) the release of life-giving rain to liberate the rivers. In a variant of the myth, Indra smashes the Vala cave, releasing the cows that were within. The two myths are separate; however, rivers and cows are often poetically correlated in the Ṛgvéda. The great deity Indra, who is the hero and fighter in warfare and who wins for man the Light and the Force, is portrayed as the conqueror and benefactor of the Cow, the Horse and the divine riches. The acquisition of this wealth as a conquest affected certain powers, the Dasyus. The Dasyus who withhold or steal the cows are conquered by violence to recover the lost wealth with the aid of the gods. Vala, the chief of demons, dwells in a cave in the mountains; Indra has to pursue him there and force him to give up his wealth. Along with other gods Indra can break up the Vala cave and restore the lost radiances. There are also other deities to whom various hymns are attributed in this great victory in the Ṛgvéda. In every sense, Indra is the head of all these gods, lord of the light, and king of the luminous heaven. In this general setting of Vedic thought, unfolded in and through various encrypted narratives, one could venture on creating and recreating story after story. The later consecutive literary creations are marked by the flowering of such narrative activity where the hidden and subtle power of Vāk took embodiment. We could take some concrete examples from the above hymns: Indra killing the serpent Vṛtra and freeing the seven rivers; Indra freeing the cows from below the caves of Vala; Indra who controls horses, cows, armies and chariots; Indra who struck down the sinners with arrows, who is the slayer of Dasyu; Indra before whom even the heaven and the earth bow down and who is known as the drinker of soma; etc. These and other similar cryptic narrations later on greatly contributed to the rich story tradition of India. The Vedic sacred utterance is not only invested with evocative and transformative power, but also with narrative potential and dynamism, as its very nature of encrypting and interiorising suggests.

The Biblical Point of Reference: The Song of Thanksgiving by David in 2 Samuel 22 As has been displayed, the Vedic paradigm is marked by prosody or versification. Here the plot-wise arrangement of the narrative material and the chronological order are of less importance and, moreover, the compactness and crypticness

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contribute to the very nature of versified narration or in a general sense, poetry. On the other hand, narrative prose is plot-oriented, chronologically ordered and thematically articulated. J. P. Fokkelman holds that the distinction between poetry and prose in classical Hebrew is radical in principle rather than practice. The literary genius of the prose writers resists compartmental thinking, and refuses to follow the sharp distinctions drawn by theory, with its propensity to pedantry. The literary production of biblical Israel has managed to transform this rigid demarcation into a gradual fade-over: there is a sliding scale from prose to poetry. (Fokkelman 1999:174)

Prose and prosody are interwoven and intertwined so as to bring the different aspects of the narration together in a narrative string. Therefore, although prosody carries a different style, i.e. hymnal, cryptic, versified, metrical, etc., from that of the rest of the narration, it forms part of the mainstream narration. In the Samuel Books one could identify four narrative blocks of prosody where the Vedic aspect is predominant. They are the Song of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2:1–10, David’s lament over Saul and Jonathan in 2 Samuel 1:17–27, the great Song of Thanksgiving by King David in 2 Samuel 22 (DST)1 and the last words of David in 2 Samuel 23. All four poems revolve around the same semantics filled with power and strength; however, in the Song of Hannah and the Song of Thanksgiving by King David, the focus is more on YAHWEH, and in David’s lament over Saul and Jonathan2 and the last words of David on the mighty people of the kingdom. There is inter-echoing of language, especially of vocabulary, among the poems. This and many other literary features in common add to their being cryptic. Therefore, in order to demonstrate how the different dimensions of the cryptic aspect occur in the narrative planes of the Davidic Episode, it would be fair to take DST3 for deeper narrative analysis. To be more concrete and for practical purposes, the first twenty verses of the same are given below: 2 Samuel 22:1–20 1 David spoke to the LORD the words of this song on the day when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul. 2 He said: The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, 3 my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge, my saviour; you save me from violence. 4 I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies. 5 For the waves of death encompassed me, the torrents of perdition assailed me; 6 the cords of Sheol entangled me, the snares of death confronted me. 7 In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I called. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry came to his ears.

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8 Then the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations of the heavens trembled and quaked, because he was angry. 9 Smoke went up from his nostrils, and devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flamed forth from him. 10 He bowed the heavens, and came down; thick darkness was under his feet. 11 He rode on a cherub, and flew; he was seen upon the wings of the wind. 12 He made darkness around him a canopy, thick clouds, a gathering of water. 13 Out of the brightness before him coals of fire flamed forth. 14 The LORD thundered from heaven; the Most High uttered his voice. 15 He sent out arrows, and scattered them-- lightning, and routed them. 16 Then the channels of the sea were seen, the foundations of the world were laid bare at the rebuke of the LORD, at the blast of the breath of his nostrils. 17 He reached from on high, he took me, he drew me out of mighty waters. 18 He delivered me from my strong enemy, from those who hated me; for they were too mighty for me. 19 They came upon me in the day of my calamity, but the LORD was my stay. 20 He brought me out into a broad place; he delivered me, because he delighted in me.

At the very first reading, a creative Indian reader will attach the narrative features of the above song with the Vedic paradigm. Many narrative elements of the Vedic model can as well be applied to DST. Let us see how this Vedic model corresponds to it and how it fits in the general narrative setting of the Davidic Episode. Interiorise Certain Kinds of Narratives which Can Be Elaborated into Stories or Episodes DST interiorises certain kinds of narratives which can be developed or elaborated into stories or episodes that take our memory and imagination back and forth. These mini tales hold back so much from the reader, who is thereby prompted to expand them into stories. Here David recalls his past and makes a retrospective journey through his life. He picks up some imageries, myths and metaphors to narrate what he encountered and which will tell stories of his deliverance. For example, he makes a portrait of the Lord whom he experienced right through his life: my rock, my fortress, my deliverer, my shield, the horn of my salvation, my stronghold, my refuge, my stay, and my saviour. When David says ‘the Lord is my shield,’ we see the narrative embodiment of many plots from the preceding sections encrypted in it. David’s dramatic entry in the narrative scene, by itself speaks volumes. As he accepts the challenge to battle against Goliath, the Philistine, Saul tries to clothe David with armor, helmet, coat, etc. as shield. Being a young boy, he could hardly walk clothed in such heavy armour. He removes everything and taking only his shepherd’s staff, he carefully chooses five smooth stones. As he meets Goliath, he says to him, “ You come to me

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Figure 23.  Interiorisation in David’s Song of Thanksgiving.

with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied.” This narrative scene, where David experiences the Lord as his shield, is encrypted in the expression ‘the Lord is my shield’ sung in the Thanksgiving song. ‘The Lord is my rock’ interiorises the rock-experience of David in a particular sense in which some previous plots unfold themselves. For instance, when David is fleeing from Saul, he narrowly escapes from him in the wilderness of Maon. He escapes from Saul going down to the rock and Saul has to give up chasing him after hearing news of the raid on the land by the Philistines. ‘Therefore that place was called the Rock of Escape.’ For David, it is the Lord who stands as a rock protecting from Saul and the whole incident takes place around a rock and hence even the importance is attached to the place by giving it the name, ‘the Rock of Escape.’ ‘The Lord is my stay’ holds back an important theme of the Davidic Episode, i.e. ‘the Lord is with him.’ David is summoned by Saul to play the lyre because he “is skillful in playing, a man of valor, a warrior, prudent in speech, and a man of good presence; and the Lord is with him” (1 Sam 16:18). David found favour with Saul and he made him commander of a thousand. However, Saul was afraid of David’s growing strength and fame, “because the Lord was with him” and “David had success in all his undertakings; for the Lord was with him” (1 Sam 18:14, 28). A continuous progression of this theme is evident throughout the narrative and its climax is seen in the expression, ‘The Lord is my stay.’

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Establish Resonances between the Natural and the Supernatural or the Divine and the Human The cryptic way of narration could bring out fully the subtleness of the supernatural powers and their various manifestations in the cosmic realm. Narrating the world of higher cosmic powers and their cosmic interventions and interferences is a different task than the narration of an ordinary reality. That prompted the ancient narrators to rely on the Vedic kind of narrative approach, i.e. cryptic. There the narrator will be in a better position to open up the semantic horizon of the supernatural which consists mainly and wholly of mystery and of myths. A simple way of narration will not be sufficient to bring out all the divine aspects to the human level of understanding and aesthetics. For example, the hymns on Indra killing Vṛtra and releasing the waters swallowed up by him are associated with such cosmogenic events as the separation of earth and heaven, spreading and steadying the earth and steaming the heaven, and winning the lights, the sun, and the dawns. Only a versified, cryptic way of narration can best present such a kind of resonance between divine and human or supernatural powers and cosmic powers. In the same way, the resonance between Yahweh and David, the abode of YAHWEH and the house of David, is well brought out in the cryptic narration of DST. There the mysteries enshrouded with the natural and supernatural realities of death, perdition, Sheol, reeling earth, trembling heavens, canopy of darkness, mighty waters, flying cherub, etc. unfold themselves in a unique way within the general setting of the Davidic Episode. Thus, DST embedded in the story becomes the locus where the human creative mind is elevated to meet the divine realities and the divine realities are lowered to satisfy the human creative mind. Expressions such as ‘the waves of death encompassed me,’ ‘the torrents of perdition assailed me,’ ‘the cords of Sheol entangled me,’ ‘the snares of death confronted me,’ etc. show how David (or the narrator) looks at his eventful past; it is more of a poetic manner. Since this kind of poetic approach brings the divine aspect into full narrative expression, its resonance can be felt in the preceding and succeeding plots and that helps to approach the events and the characters of the corresponding plots with a different outlook. For instance, David’s Sheol-experience in life brings him to the realization that Yahweh is the deliverer and it has repercussions for future generations and also for life after death. Affinity with Ancient Imageries and Allegories The Vedic model of narration is rich with imageries and allegories adapted from the existing tradition. They add to the fullness of its cryptic nature and are usually adapted from the respective tradition. There they create a world of meaning and

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give the narration crypticness. For example, the imagery, “Smoke went up from his nostrils, and devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flamed forth from him” (v.9), is the poetic representation of God, drawing the imagery from literary traditions such as the Ugaritic Baal epic. This imagery maintains a powerful momentum beyond its original cultural contexts. Yahweh is depicted as a fierce warrior, like Baal who breathes fire. In the general narrative setting of the Davidic Episode, such kinds of ancient imageries and allegories have narrative relevance and they make sense to the reader. Take, for instance, the above verse (9) in which the divine aspect that they experienced in the past is encrypted. When the Philistines captured the ark of God, they were stricken by tumours (1 Sam 5, 6). Then the people said, “Who is able to stand before the Lord, this holy God? To whom shall he go so that we may be rid of him?” Again in the case of David, the Philistines came to the realisation that there is a God in Israel who is terrifying to the enemies of the people of God. David said to the Philistine, “This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head; and I will give the dead bodies of the Philistine army this very day to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the earth, so that the earth may know that there is a God in Israel.” (1 Sam 17:46). In a way this power and military strength is attributed to David, the anointed one. Smoke going up from nostrils, devouring fire from mouth and glowing coals flaming forth, etc. are themselves allegories referring to David’s mighty kingdom established as the fulfilment of the promise. The narrator uses lavishly the imageries and allegories corresponding to the pagan gods to show the superiority of the Lord of Israel and, thereby, the power and the might of the kingship and the kingdom of David. Versified Narration Imbued with the Power of Vāk A creative reading of DST will give one the feeling that the versified narration (prosody) which is characteristic of the Vedic paradigm is imbued with the power of Vāk (word). The words and verses are formulated in such a way that they induce poetic spirit, power of speech and creative energy. Therefore, the selective vocabularies, the rhythmic and metrical versification and thematic ordering are typical of the Vedic model. Since these songs are meant for use in the cultic context, they are imbued with the power of Vāk. Through their very chanting or cultic utterance, they are vibrant and transmit a kind of creative or curative energy to the performer or the hearer. Hence, Védas are extensively used as mantras for Vedic sacrifices and in the Bible they form part of the Psalms sung at the liturgical assembly. Some specimens from DST will throw more light in this respect. David praises the Lord for He has saved him from his enemies. This saving act of the Lord is depicted in the versified form (prosody):

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the waves of death encompassed me the torrents of perdition assailed me the cords of Sheol entangled me the snares of death confronted me

Here the comparisons such as waves of, torrents of, cords of, snares of and the repetition ‘me’ who is the object of enemies’ wrath produces a special linguistic effect that is different from the normal prose narration. In this scheme of narration, the verses are endowed with both the denotative and connotative power of Vāk. Instead of saying that I (David) have gone through severe experiences, the narrator (David?) puts it in a rhetorical way. Then the verses become mantras through which the saving act of the Lord is recollected, re-enacted and activated powerfully and anew. The saving act of the Lord in the life of David has more weight and worth when it is considered in contrast to the strength of the enemies. This kind of a portrait creates the impression that the enemy is so strong that only the Lord could withstand it; and, therefore, the Lord is praiseworthy in every manner. Invitation to Discover Thematic Associations Again DST attests to the fact that the Vedic paradigm provides a platform to invite the reader to reflect on the preceding and succeeding narrations and to discover thematic associations. The reader is taken on a retrospective journey by introspection on the main themes of the story. This journey will not be in a chronological manner and therefore, the events recounted do not occur in sequence; however, it is closely linked to the main episodes in David’s life in its entirety. A typical example would be the theme of YHWH’s gift of kingship and its full realisation in David. The narrative trajectory of this theme in the Books of Samuel sometimes meets with narrative twists such as crypticness. Such instances are mainly the summit of thematic association. Hannah’s Song of Thanksgiving introduces the theme of kingship right at the beginning of the Samuel Books and David’s Song of Thanksgiving brings it to a logical conclusion. The final verse of DST ends in the same rhyme as the final verse of Hannah’s hymn of thanksgiving: “his king” and “his anointed”. The LORD! His adversaries shall be shattered; the Most High will thunder in heaven. The LORD will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king, and exalt the power of his anointed. (1 Samuel 2:10) He is a tower of salvation for his king, and shows steadfast love to his anointed, to David and his descendants forever.

(2 Samuel 22:51)

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DST invokes the aesthesia of the reader to make mental associations of the themes introduced, followed and concluded. More than half of Hannah’s vocabulary is retained in DST. ‘The Lord fighting for His people against the enemies,’ ‘the righteous inheriting the Kingdom,’ ‘the Lord exalts the power of His anointed,’ etc. are recurring themes throughout the Davidic Episode. Moreover, those themes are cryptically calibrated in DST, which provides the reader a narrative space where one can associate the themes in different plots. Thereby, the narrator could effectively get across the theme and the reader could appreciate the story better. In the ancient Indian narrative tradition, although the Vedic paradigm forms part of a separate tradition, the element of the same has been extensively incorporated into the later epic and folk literature. Even in this postmodern age of electronic media, this remains essential to the narrative tradition. For example, Indian films (especially Bollywood), are best known for their colourful, vibrant, glamorous, poetical and rhythmic songs occurring here and there in the course of the narration. Songs are used in Indian movies mainly to entertain but they also prove to be an effective device in rendering thematic association without disturbing the main storyline. In fact the storyline is enhanced by the song-scenes through which the spectator is invited to associate different themes dealt within the main narration, progressing through different plots. Moreover, a montage of song-sequences replaces elaborate scenes using cryptic devices, enhancing emotions and providing more significance to the narrative expression by eliminating conversations. Thus, the overall dramatic impact of the story is heightened.

Purān. ic (Mythic) The Indian Point of Reference: Mārkan.d.eyapurān.a The treasure of ancient Indian mythological knowledge is found in the Purāṇas. “Vedic myths and legends assumed a new guise at the hands of purāṇa writers and were incorporated into the running cultural tradition” (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 219). The Purāṇas, which began orally and had been several centuries in the making, are a veritable repository of the accumulated wisdom of the past and of the mythical world. The mythical themes portrayed in the Purāṇas contain the soteriology4 of the four canonical Védas. While the early Vedic beliefs and practices are incorporated, there are various adaptations of traditional norms, guidelines for life and religious ways of life which were not part of the traditional Vedic sacrificial cult. It is through various narrative genres that knowledge gets disseminated in a more accessible manner. Those narrative genres proper to the Purāṇic paradigm have already been dealt with in chapter three. To summarise, they are: Chain Narration, Contextualisation, Orality, Question-answer pattern, Dialogue

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pattern, Recursiveness, Author as character, Human-divine interaction, Mythic cosmology (From creation onwards), Supra-national, Insertion of Kirtana (Hymn) and Phalaśruti (Benefits of listening). An excerpt from the episode of Mārkaṇḍeyapurāṇa given below, shows how some of them leave a special mark on the purāṇic narrative paradigm. In former times war was waged between the deities and demons for the full space of one hundred years; also between Mahiṣāsura, the greatest of demons and Purandara (the greatest of deities). The demon of ample heroism repulsed the army of the deities, Mahiṣāsura vanquished all the angels and became like Indra. After this, the conquered deities went with Prajāpati whose abode was the lotus, to Garuḍa-dhvaja (or the eagle-bannered). The Tridaśas laid before him the distress of the gods with an account of Mahiṣāsura’s actions. ……………………………………………………………………… They said, the gods are oppressed by the ill-disposed Mahiṣa; the multitude of deities have heaven and wander on the earth like mortals. ……………………………………………………………….. A peerless light issued from the bodies of all the deities and the phenomenon was transfigured as a woman extending through the three worlds. ……………………………………………………………….. The sages were delighted and made obeisance to her; she beheld the whole of the three worlds grieved by the enemies of the angels. All the nearest armies were amply provided with arms, Mahiṣāsura furiously said, “O what is this?” The sound of his voice reached the surrounding multitude of demons; he saw the goddess pervade the three worlds. She indented the earth with her foot, her crown struck the sky; the sound of her bowstring terrified the whole subterraneous world. She grasped all the space of the regions by her one thousand arms; fierce war was waged between the goddess and the enemies of the angels. Devī had maimed each of the demon in an arm, an eye and a foot, and though their heads were severed from their bodies, the trunks rose again.

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The trunks, holding excellent arms, fought with Devī; the apsaras danced during the battle, to accompaniment of great shouts. The trunks of the demons whose heads were cut off, still held the śakti, khudga and vruṣṭi, and exhorted loudly, “Stand! Stand!” The fallen chariots, elephants, and steeds of the demons were innumerable; rivers of blood streamed over the place where the great battle was being fought. In a trice the forces of the demons were destroyed in abundance by fire, like grass and wood. The lion roared fiercely and the foes of the angels suffered instant concussions. ………………………………………………………………… The eloquent Indra, and the crowd of angels, after the death of the demons bowing their heads were delighted and the hair of their beautiful bodies became erect. O Goddess! By your power this world was created with spirits and gods of different and numerous forms. O Ambikā; you are revered by all the deities; the magnificent sages faithfully prostrate themselves to you; may you give us prosperity. (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 226–230)

The story begins with a vivid account of the birth of the Mother Goddess. It is part of the big mythic cosmology enshrouding the Purāṇas. The combined might of the deities becomes one force in female form, endowing her with special powers. It was a time when the balance of power between the eternally warring gods and the demons gets heeled over in favour of the demons. In such a situation, the might of the deities, born as the Goddess, shines as the supreme light and succeeds in destroying the demons. The Purāṇas reveal a post-Vedic attempt to syncretise ancient religion, thought and culture in a manner which is more mythic. In such an endeavour, various genres are called in as vehicles to convey the particular perception of reality. To make it concrete, the above mythical narrative of Mārkaṇḍeyapurāṇa is the embodiment of a conventional wisdom, viz. ultimately good prevails over evil. The vehicles that are used to convey such a perception of reality are mythic cosmology, recursiveness, supra-national, orality, phalaśruti (benefits of listening), etc. The mythic cosmology maintains the continuities among the human, natural and divine realms. By retelling these continuities, the order and the productivity of the world are ensured. Mārkaṇḍeyapurāṇa narrates the ‘how’ and ‘why’ of the origin of the goddess. “A peerless light issued from the bodies of all the deities and the phenomenon was transfigured as a woman extending through the three worlds. … She indented the earth with her foot, her crown struck the sky; the sound of her bow-string terrified the whole subterraneous world” (vide supra). This woman restores the order by conquering

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the demons. These hymns mostly present different aspects of greatness manifested by the Devi in her previous scuffles with the forces of evil, embodying prayers for universal happiness. It is a recurring cyclic phenomenon. Although some events and plots have the elements of human-historical experience, particular and mundane events in time and space are not of specific importance to the myth. In the mythic realm, the individual and particular things related to an event are realities which have been taken out of particular time and space and which partake in the supra-national. Thus, it is possible for a devotee to invoke divine grace even today by recalling the myth to ward off troubles and ensure his/her well-being. The Narrative space of the Purāṇas is supra-national. The plots, characters and the events of Mārkaṇḍeyapurāṇa transcend the boundaries of mundane space and time. “They said, the gods are oppressed by the ill-disposed Mahiṣa; the multitude of deities have heaven and wander on the earth like mortals … A peerless light issued from the bodies of all the deities and the phenomenon was transfigured as a woman extending through the three worlds … The sages were delighted and made obeisance to her; she beheld the whole of the three worlds grieved by the enemies of the angels” (vide supra). The characters appearing in this narrative, such as Devi, angels, sages, deities, demons, gods, etc., are moving in the narrative orbit extending through the three worlds. Although individual episodes have their own regional location and historical reminiscence, the subject matter of the mythical narration goes through the process of imagination and the imagination translates the ordinary space and time into supra-national. They create a mythic atmosphere which transcends the localized space and finite time and, thereby, one could relate the real world to the ideal world. An event that once happened in history is mythologised once and for all time; and, thereby, it transcends time and space. For the same reason, a historical event or a localised concept that appeared sometime or somewhere in history is made universal and eternal. It was the ancient way of communicating and preserving the universal truths and realities. Telling and retelling of such stories in the form of a mythological narrative provides not only wisdom but also Phalaśruti, i.e. benefits of listening. The Purāṇic narrative is endowed with the benefit of listening/hearing which is intended to make the reader interested in the course of the narrative. Phalaśruti points to the overall benefit: both the spiritual benefit through the invocation of the goodness or the positive energy in the universe and the material benefit to lead a normal life in this world. “The eloquent Indra, and the crowd of angels, after the death of the demons bowing their heads were delighted and the hair of their beautiful bodies became erect. O Goddess! By your power this world was created with spirits and gods of different and numerous forms. O Ambikā; you are revered by all the deities; the magnificent sages faithfully prostrate themselves to you; may you give us prosperity” (vide supra). The battle fought against the powers of the demons (evil or negative energy in the universe) narrated in the Mārkaṇḍeyapurāṇa is a ground reality of everyday

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human existence from time immemorial. To deal with such a reality, the Purāṇic people created stories making use of their real historical human experience as raw material. They came to the idea that in order to overpower the demons they need creative energy, which they called Devi. The fact is that the demon is destructive; therefore, to fight against it, there should be a regenerative power which must be feminine. So the concept of Devi took shape and she embodies the sum total of the goodness represented by the deities. “A peerless light issued from the bodies of all the deities and the phenomenon was transfigured as a woman extending through the three worlds.” Even though the Purāṇas are scholarly and philosophical in nature, they retain a pattern of oral narrative folk literature. Fantasy and non-realism set the stage for the interpolation and intervention of divine, semi-divine or even demoniac characters. With this device the narrative gets the best fictional treatment, as it gives free rein to the imagination of the author/narrator and it indulges the fancy of the reader/listener in the highest sense. The Purāṇas are mythology in narrative form. The Old Testament could be reckoned to be more Purāṇic, because it combines the multiple functions of an encyclopaedic narrative.

The Biblical Point of Reference: The Ark Narrative: 1 Sam 4–7:1 The Hebrew literary tradition was no exception in the matter of mythical motif, although history and historiography were slowly strengthening their hold, as in the case of the ancient Greek and Indian traditions. However, the prevailing understanding of the biblical narration has always been that it is in no way related to the mythical realm since the real human-historical experiences serve as the locus of revelation. Oswalt speaks of a shift in this understanding by the modern biblical scholarship which believes that a purely historical approach was never able to exercise a dominant influence on the Biblical world. “So if it was appropriate to describe other religious systems as myth, there could be no reason to exclude the biblical religion from that terminology” (Oswalt 2009:31). Although there are differences among the theologians about the magnitude of the mythical aspect in the biblical narrative, there is a general consensus that the biblical narrative can also be included in the mythical category and a study of myth is very much part of biblical research and interpretation.5 To deem Purāṇic as ‘primitive mentality’ or as ‘non-scientific,’ does not do justice to the ancient literatures, no matter what cultural or religious origin they have. Of course in the modern sense, Purāṇic belongs to the ‘pre-scientific.’ In fact, myths were the main carriers of scientific truths and the realities of life manifested in the human experience. In that way, myth-making can be regarded as an ordinary social and scientific activity of olden times. Indian Purāṇic literature contains many

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mythical stories dealing with geology, genealogy, astrology, anthropology, psychology, the eternal tension between good and evil in the world, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical world, etc. It is in this sense Mircea Eliade defined myth “as a means of remembering, of reorienting oneself with the originating event or events. In this regard, historiography is a form of myth …” (Oswalt 2009:189). Thus, myth becomes ‘the defining character of religion of any sort.’ Based on such an assumption, the Purāṇic (mythical) narrative model of the ancient Indian literary tradition could be seen as a valuable poetic approach to the Biblical narrative. The Overarching of the Ark Narrative The story related to the Ark of the Lord in 1 Samuel unfolded in chs. 2–7 is a specimen of the Purāṇic narrative paradigm to a certain extent. There are many renderings of the so-called Ark Narrative. According to the Historical Critical method, the Ark Narrative could be designated as 1 Samuel 2:12–17, 22–25 and 4:1b–7:1. This kind of an outline excludes the plots such as the prayer of Hannah (2:1–10), the wicked doings of the sons of Eli (2:12–17, 22–25), the words of a man of God to Eli (2:27–36), Samuel’s uprising (2:18–21, 26; 3:1–4:1a) and Samuel’s success story as priest, prophet and judge (7:2–17). Strictly speaking they belong to the Samuel Episode. Although they do not make any direct reference to the Ark, the Ark plays an import role in bringing the Samuel Episode to a logical and narrative conclusion. In fact, this way of chain narration and recursivness belongs to the very nature of the Purāṇic paradigm. Therefore, this study would consider chs. 2–7 in their entirety when it demonstrates the Purāṇic aspect of the Ark Narrative. In this composition, there are five different instances where the Ark comes in direct contact with different individuals or communities and the responses thereby: 1) The Ark ⇔ Samuel: vision and the word of God “Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was” (3:3b). 2) The Ark ⇔ The Sons of Eli: mighty shout “The two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, were with the ark of the covenant of God” (4:4b). 3) The Ark ⇔ Dagon: terrifying presence “Then the Philistines took the ark of God and brought it into the house of Dagon” (5:2a). 4) The Ark ⇔ Philistines: panic “The hand of the Lord was against the city, causing a very great panic …” (5:9).

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5) The Ark ⇔ The house of Abinadab: worship The people of Kiriath-jearim “brought it (the ark) to the house of Abinadab on the hill. They consecrated his son, Eleazar, to have charge of the ark of the Lord” (7:1b). The Ark plays a central role in the myth-making and it acts as a thread by which different plots are sewn together to make a story. To have a general idea about how this myth-making takes place along with historiography, let us have a look at the historical and mythical settings of the Ark Narrative:

Figure 24.  Historical and Purāṇic Settings of the Ark Narrative.

The Role-Shift of the Ark Brought into the Mythical Framework By the role-shift of the Ark with different peoples and events, the narrator sets the story in context. The results and responses they produce in each case vary. This phenomenon needs a mythical framework to bring various plots and points of view

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into one narrative setting. Here the myth-making was the natural choice of the narrators of Purāṇic time. Scholars differ on whether the Ark Narrative describes actual historical events or mythified historiography. This study is of the opinion that in the case of the Ark Narrative, the approach to historiography is Purāṇic (mythical). Such an approach is intended to bring about a compositional and conceptual link among various ironic plots and points of view, which in turn create a theological worldview. The poetic irony wisely exhibited in the composition by the narrator extends the range and intensity of the ordinary historical events and gives the story its narrative twist and flavour. Let us have a look at this poetic irony: Sons of Eli—Ministers of God (2:12,13)  Sons of Eli—Blasphemers of God (3:13) The Sons of Eli despise the presence of  The Philistines acknowledge the power of the Ark (4:7,8) the Ark (2:12) The word of the Lord was rare in those days (3:1) The mighty shout of Israel (4:5)



The Lord spoke to Samuel (3:4–15)

 The bows of the mighty are broken (2:4)

The Ark was brought to save Israel from  the power of enemies (4:3)

Israel was defeated and the Ark was captured (4:10,11)

‘Gods have come into the camp’ (4:7)



‘The glory has departed from Israel’ (4:21)

The death of Phinehas (4:11)



The wife of Phinehas gives birth to a child—Ichabod (4:20,21)

The Ark endures humiliation from the Sons of Eli at Shiloh (2:12)



The Ark endangers the people of Ashdod with its presence (5)

The Ark was taken away from Shiloh (4:3)



The Ark was taken into the house of Dagon (5:3)

The Ark is subject to defeat at the camps  The Ark defends itself in the territory of the Philistines (5) of Israel (2:10,11) Glory is lost in Israel—Ichabod (4:22)

 Glory is retained by the Philistines (6:5)

No regret, repentance or reparation by the Sons of Eli (2:25)



Reparation and offering by the Philistines (6:8)

The Philistines fattened up the Ark The Sons of Eli fattened themselves on  with all the choicest things for the guilt the choicest parts of the offerings (2:29) offering (6:3–8) The absence of Samuel is conspicuous by the defeat of both enemies of the Lord—the Sons of Eli and the Philistines (4:1b–7:2)



The presence of Samuel is conspicuous after the return of the Ark (7:3 …)

Figure 25.  The Role-Shift of the Ark in the Mythical Framework.

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The above illustration clearly shows how the shifting role of the Ark in different plots creates poetic irony, which raises the mundane historiography of sporadic events into a mythical narrative whole. This provides one with the narrative flexibility to move freely on the narrative orbit which myth creates, so that one can orient and relate oneself to the story. Moreover, the narrative space it creates transcends space and time, which enables one to draw literary conclusions and make theological implications. For example, from a literary point of view it is valid to ask why the central part of the Ark narrative is conspicuous for Samuel’s absence, although his rise is already in the offing at the first part and his gaining strength recurring in between. Again, it is theologically valid to ask why the Lord allows the defeat of the Ark on the soil of Israel, but it fights back on its own on Philistine soil. The lost glory of the Lord at Shiloh of Israel is regained at Ashdod of Philistine. These and the above illustrated paradoxes conveyed within a mythical framework extend the semantic horizon of the story. The themes such as the wickedness of the Sons of Eli, the battle against the power of the enemies (the Philistines), the defeat of the Israelites, the capturing of the Ark, the departed glory (Ichabod), Yahweh against Dagon, the hand of the Lord against the Philistines, the return of the Ark, new priesthood in the house of Abinadab, etc. are woven together to form a story in the mythical narrative setting which functions as a unifying leitmotif. A historical event that once happened is left to the complexities of the myth, so that it is relieved from the clutches of the boundaries of time and space. Here merges the poetics of the Purāṇic and the prosaic historiography. The Pitting of Evil against Evil in the Supra-National Level It is a characteristic of the Purāṇic paradigm that the narrative space is being elevated to the supra-national level, although individual episodes have their own regional location. In the Ark narrative the pitting of evil against evil takes place in the supra-national level. Contrary to the expectation of the people, the presence of the Ark at the camp does not do any good in defeating the enemies. On the contrary, it turns out to be evil; evil in the sense that the Philistines capture the Ark and the Israelites lost hold of it. Moreover, the evil encountered in the loss of the Ark is pitted against other evils: killing of the sons of Eli, the humiliation of Dagon and the defeat of the Philistines. The divine ancestry of the Priesthood gets corrupted through the sons of Eli. They become internal enemies of the people of the Lord. On the other hand, an external enemy, the Philistines, is trying to destroy the people of the Lord. The annihilation of both internal and external enemies by the Lord is brought together in a mythical supra-national narrative space. Here the Lord allows the evil by way of the defeat and loss of the Ark to fight against the evil on both fronts—external

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and internal. In order to achieve the goal, the Ark transcends the human norms of evil and good. The ark of the covenant of the Lord in the hands of the wicked priests Hophni and Phinehas (4:4) stays powerless to fight against the power of the enemies (4:3). On the contrary, the Ark in the hands of the enemies, the Philistines, becomes powerful by itself (5:11). The Lord acts alone; and the Ark is seen as the transfigured power of the Lord against the powers of evil. The Lord turns supra-national and His works become supra-natural. The war against the Philistines turns out to be the destruction of the priesthood of the Sons of Eli; in order for this to occur the Lord allows the defeat of the Ark and its exile in a foreign land. The Lord directs one evil (Philistines) against the other (the Sons of Eli), so that the latter gets destroyed, and the Lord wages a war against the former alone. It can be seen as the ironic pitting of evil against evil. It is a double victory for the Lord against the powers of evil. The capture of the Ark is God’s response to the wickedness of Hophni and Phinehas. The combat between Yahweh and Dagon is a historicised mythic narration. There are no named human characters in the plot narrating the combat between Yahweh and Dagon. Ultimately good prevails over evil. The Chain Narrative and Recursiveness A narratological assumption that in the Ark Narrative “there is scarcely any ambiguity of character or complexity of motive, no interweaving of plot and subplot, and little developed dialogue between characters” (Damrosch 1987:182), is over-simplification and it does not do justice to its compositional nature. All those narrative features can be easily explored by an approach proper to the Purāṇic paradigm. Chain narrative and recursiveness are evident mainly from the way the narrator changes from one plot to the other frequently and the recurrence of the themes accordingly. In the Indian Purāṇic literature, even the change of character-turned-narrator is vivid, as one character of the story narrates another one and so on. Although biblical narrative lacks such clarity, there are clear indications of narrator changing the plots, themes and points of view frequently with some poetic devices and, therefore, the possibility of anonymous narrators in addition to the master-narrator cannot be excluded. How the Purāṇic mode of chain narration is also rightly applicable to biblical narration can be fathomed by the way the Ark narrative unfolds itself. The Purāṇic literature employs formulas such as ‘once upon a time,’ ‘long ago,’ ‘the rest will be told tomorrow,’ etc. to chain different plots and recurring themes together. The Ark Narrative is marked by the formulas ‘now,’ ‘in those days,’ ‘when,’ ‘from the day,’ etc. Here the ‘now’ of the narrator is not the present tense of grammar, but the narrative time in the poetical realm in which the events of different historical points

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can be shuffled to highlight the point of view and to make a story. In this process those chain-formulas are employed. This clearly shows that the shift of the theme or the point of view is cooked in the mind of the narrator and is served as one dish. A good appreciator can taste the literary and theological flavours of it. The diagram below will give a panoramic view of the chain narrative and recursiveness in the Ark Narrative: Change of Plots Prayer of Hannah: Scoundrel Sons of Eli: Samuel Episode:

Chain Patterns Texts “Hannah prayed and said …” “Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels …” “Samuel was ministering before the Lord …”

Reference (2:1–11) (2:12–17) (2:18–21)

Scoundrel Sons of Eli:

“Now Eli was very old …”

(2:22–25)

Samuel Episode and the prophesy of a man of God:

“Now the boy Samuel continued to grow …”

(2:26–36)

Samuel Episode:

“Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli …”

(3:1–4:1a)

The Ark Episode: Sub-plots of Eli’s and his daughter-in-law’s deaths; the Ark encountering Dagon and the Philistines and the return of the Ark: Samuel Episode:

“In those days the Philistines mustered for war against Israel, …”

(4:1b–7:1)

“Now Eli was ninety-eight years old …”

(4:15)

“Now “When his daughter–in-law, the wife of Phinehas …”

(4:19)

"When the Philistines captured the ark of God …” “From the day that the ark was lodged at Kiriath-jearim …”

(5:1) (7:2–17)

Figure 26.  Chain Narrative and Recursiveness in the Ark Narrative.

The Narrator attempts to syncretise different aspects of the Israelites’ existence as the people of God in a manner which is more mythic. Hannah’s prayer (2:1–11) serves as a prelude to the Ark Narrative. It foreshadows the things to come. In the following plots we can see the realisation and recapitulation of the themes of prayer, such as ‘the Lord is a God of knowledge’ (3), ‘the bows of the mighty are broken’ (4), ‘the Lord kills and brings to life’ (6), ‘His adversaries shall be shattered’, etc. The immediate realisation of these themes is depicted in the following

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plots. Thus, the plots narrating about the scoundrel sons of Eli, the rise of Samuel, the prophesy of a man of God and the death of Eli and his daughter-in-law are remarkably interwoven with the Ark Narrative and are crucial in the proper understanding and appreciation of it.

Itihāsic (Epic) The Indian Point of Reference: Mahābhārata—The Making of an Itihāsic The great epics of India, the Mahābhārata and the Rāmāyaṇa, can be seen as fully humanised versions of the Purāṇas with distinct narrative features. Their historical setting has already been treated in chapter two and the narrative features in chapter three of part one. Those narrative features which uniquely characterise them to be epic are of special importance to this section. Therefore, an abstract of them would serve as a good introduction to their Indian point of reference in the story of the Mahābhārata and to the Biblical point of reference in the Books of Samuel. An Abstract of Indian Epic Paradigm o Concerned with love and war. o The divine intervention affects the course of the plot. o Multiplicity of motifs and styles of narration. o Complexly interwoven dialogical structure. o Human affairs directed by supernatural forces. o Fictional representation of the national ethos. o Bring into focus the nationhood of the country. o Inherent tension in the emerging national set-up. o The overall narrative shrouded in fantasy. o Maintains a chronological forward direction, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, keeps its momentum. o Struggle is not between God and devil, but between two human adversaries. o The human flaws of the hero lend credibility to the narrative. o The concrete instances of contention are centred around man’s relationship with woman. o The focus has shifted from good and evil to right and wrong. o Strong emotions of love and hatred expressed in words and actions. o The location of action is here and now (iha and para). o The abstractions are replaced by flesh-and-blood characters. o The divine intervention made more realistic and rational, logical and inevitable. o Moral and ethical issues come into prominence. o The ambiguity and ambivalence become relevant in the assessment of the behaviour of some characters. o The Itihāsic present situations which have an echo in all times. o The question, who is the ideal hero in the world, is raised.

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The Mahābhārata uniquely epitomises the above outlined narrative features of the epic paradigm. Paniker, in his book, Indian Narratology, looks into this aspect and observes: The Mahābhārata is a tale of many tales told by many tellers. It is an epic of nature or of folk origin, an expression of national destiny, evolved out of primordial experiences and concepts, based on archetypes and the collective unconscious of the entire community, mixing fact and fantasy, mythology and history, insisting on an imaginative reading and interpretation … (2003:56–57)

Although the Mahābhārata can be assigned in the general category of an epic, it is much more, “for it comprises material from several branches of knowledge including philosophy, law, ethics, statecraft, warfare, history, and ethnology in its structure which revolves round the feud between two branches of royal family and the circumstances leading to a catastrophic war” (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 137). The story pivots on this war, which is known as the Battle of Kurukshethra. It was between the Kauravas (the descendants of King Kuru) and Pāṇḍavas (sons of Pānḍu), two branches of the royal family of Purus for succession for the throne of Hastinapura. Since presenting an elaborated version of the story related to the Battle of Kurukshethra is beyond the scope of this study, the gist of the story to show how the theme of succession bears the features of an epic is given below: The Mahābhārata presents the story of human beings caught up in live situations of attachment, jealousy, commitments, dilemmas and confrontations. The basic story of the epic deals with the struggle for the kingship between the Pāṇḍavas and the Kauravas, two branches of the royal family of Purus. Using this basic structure, the author presents a host of mighty characters. Yudhiṣṭhira stands as a contrast to Duryodhana. Karṇa is an unforgettable character symbolising the state of man in confrontation with his destiny. Arjuna, the mighty opponent of Karṇa, Bhīma, revengeful and invincible warrior, Bhīṣma, the elder statesman, the manipulator of action, Draupadī, the Pāṇḍavas queen6—are all endowed with epic dimensions. The other characters like Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Gāndhāri, Kuntī, Vidura, Droṇa, Śakuni and Aśvatthāma are equally significant. Even relatively minor characters like Abhimanyu, Ghaṭōtkaca, Kīcaka and Uttara have decisive roles to play in the main story. The jealousy and hatred between the Kauravas and Pāṇḍavas engaged in minor quarrels as children, gradually gets aggravated in the form of mutual feuds spreading its roots far and wide, later growing into global turmoil. With such basic forces unleashed, there is a steady course of events that culminates in the great war. The trickery practised on Bhīma by Duryodhana who throws him into the river Gaṅgā, the deception of the incident of the lac house,7 the forgery and betrayal at the game of dice are only a few steps that lead to the catastrophe.

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Perhaps the highest point in the epic is the scene of Draupadī’s humiliation8 when the wicked Duḥśāsana cruelly drags her to the court, Draupadī vows that she will not braid her dishevelled hair till Bhīma knots it with hands smeared with the blood of Duḥśāsana. From that point, Draupadī seems to act as a driving force instigating the Pāṇḍavas to revenge. The memory of Draupadī’s humiliation sustains the fury of the Pāṇḍavas and rekindles their wrath towards the Kauravas. At a certain point all the Pāṇḍavas brothers except Sahadeva—including even the mighty Bhīma—want to avoid the war through some sort of reconciliation, but Draupadī gathers her dishevelled hair, confronts Kṛṣṇa and implores justice. Ultimately, the war begins with strictly stipulated rules ordained by Bhīṣma at the very outset but the rules are violated at every critical juncture during the course of the war, culminating in the destruction of the Kauravas and the demoniac massacre of the Pāṇḍavas’ army by Aśvatthāma. The end of the war is significant. Though the Pāṇḍavas apparently win the war, no one emerges victorious. (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 137–138)

The plots and characters depicting the reasons leading to the Battle of Kurukshethra and events, effects and emotions taking place during and after the war are set in the highest form of narrative artistry within the unique setting of an epic paradigm. First of all, we can see historiographical elements in the making of an epic which is centred on a great battle. Most scholars are of the opinion that “the epics stem from the eulogies of Kshatriya heroic action first propagated by non-Brahmin professional bards; this is why there is a great battle at the heart of both epics” (Lipner 2010:149). “The first stage in the establishment of an epic tradition would then have been the progressive clustering of ballads and other material around some central theme, whether the personal vicissitudes of a hero or events of particular importance” (Brockington 1998:19). Those heroes and events are partly historical and partly mythical. The Mahābhārata is set in the kingdom of Kurukshethra on the northern plains of India along the Ganges River. “It is believed that a great inter-tribal war did take place in north India at about the beginning of the first millennium BCE, and a number of individuals who then became some of the main characters of the epic may have taken part …” (Lipner 2010:159). It points to the following important feature of the epic paradigm. In contrast to the Purāṇic paradigm, the Itihāsic characters are real human beings; not just humanised or humanlike divine beings. Although some of them are attributed the clout of avatar and are endowed with extraordinary powers, in reality they have human ancestries and they live, act and feel as human beings with human limitations. The opening episode of the epic explains the ancestry of the major characters and provides background for the central conflict for succession

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to the throne. Some of those characters such as Duryodhana, Yudhiṣṭhira, Karṇa, Arjuna, Draupadī, Kṛṣṇa, etc. might have evolved from the historical seed which existed in the tradition of ballads. Thus, heroes as main characters and heroic events as important plots occupy the major part of the narration. Struggle is mostly between two human adversaries, rather than human and supra-human powers. The heroes are very human in their flaws and dubiousness. Focus is more on right and wrong, rather than good and evil. Here we see a narrative approach which is more realistic and rational. In this wide spectrum of epic paradigm, there is room for down-to-earth and human experience-based themes and motives. Those complexly interwoven themes and motives by way of embellishment, embedding and framing techniques play a major role in the shaping of epic. Here marks the shift from historiography to epic. As against historiography, the narration in epic progresses not at a fixed pace, “but punctuated and embellished along the way by the many sub-stories and diverse teachings which the characters within the narrative tell to each other. These sub-stories are a vital aspect of the Mahābhārata; they are often called upākhyānas” (Brodbeck and Black 2007:2). It is a way of interiorising the history of the nation and, that is to say, themes such as geography, races, customs, rituals, stratification of society, power-struggles, social changes, etc. are made subjective and personal. The technique of multiple embedding gives the narrator a free hand to recycle and reshape those themes already available in the tradition in an effective manner. An embedded narrative is a “story within a story,” contained within a framing narrative in order to provide a setting or context for it. It usually originates in either retrospective interpretations or projections of the future. “Sometimes embedded stories provide past information about a central character (e.g. Karṇa at 3.287–93); sometimes they provide important information about a particular place (e.g. the tīrthayāraā section at 3.79–153); or sometimes they put a particular event from the main story into a cosmological context (e.g. Drupadī’s marriage at 1.189)” (Brodbeck and Black 2007:57). The embedded stories are not just loosely attached one after another; but they are organised into a framing structure. It provides a frame of perception as to how stories are told, in what contexts they are told, who does the telling, and who listens. There can be outer and inner frames where contexts and dialogues are exposed. “… one of the many effects of frame dialogues in the Mahābhārata is to bring attention to the listeners, with the audience often creating the context in which stories are recounted and knowledge disseminated” (Brodbeck and Black 2007:60). Here narration takes place as dynamic interaction between the teller and the told, which makes the Mahābhārata such a crafty and clandestine literary work, leaving the possibility for much exploration and interpretation.

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In the paradigm of epic both the telling (the act of narration) and the told (the listener, reader, receiver or appreciator) assume great prominence. Phalaśruti (fruit of listening) of Indian concept has to be understood in such a context. It also leads to the formation of the national, collective and religious ethos. The Battle of Kurukshethra becomes no more a war for succession, but a cosmic struggle to establish Dhárma (cosmic order and truth) and thereby to provide the reasons, means and results of war for unfolding the true nationhood. This kind of narrative dynamism creates a big space where a literary offshoot such as the Bhagavad Gītā can be seen as part of the literary evolution of an epic. Only an epic can afford the kind of discourse the Bhagavad Gītā presents in the very midst of the battle. The Bhagavad Gītā, ‘The Song (gītā) of the Lord (bhagavad-)’ occurs as part of the Bhagavad Gītā parvan or Book of the Bhagavad Gītā … The Gītā, as it is generally called, is in the form of a dialogue between Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa, who had earlier promised to be a non-combatant in the great internecine battle of the Mahābhārata, appears on the battlefield as Arjuna’s charioteer. As the battle is about to start, Arjuna, a great warrior, recoils from the prospect of fighting—and killing—not only kith and kin, but a number of revered elders, his weapons-teacher Droṇa, among them. Kṛṣṇa uses this pretext to explain to him the true dhárma of life’s spiritual combat. Like the rest of the Mahābhārata, the Gītā is in verse, so nobody believes that it constitutes the actual words of Kṛṣṇa to Arjuna, or that such a wide-ranging discourse could be held on the cusp of battle. It is the ‘Song’ of the Lord in the sense that in its received form it is a versified and therefore polished composition believed to have been produced under divine inspiration, and to bestow salvation to all those prepared to take its teaching to heart. (Lipner 2010:159–160)

Indian tradition considers the Bhagavad Gītā as very much part of the Mahābhārata epic. The Gītā gives the epic a great religious and moral twist. “Indeed, the Gītā transposes the ethic of conflict into the ethic of the moral combat that each individual must wage in the context of his or her responsibilities in life (dharmakṣetre kurukṣetre: ‘On the field of dhárma, on the Kuru field’ is how the Gītā begins)” (Lipner 2010:163). As we look into the way the Gītā forms a part of the great epic and the literary prominence it carries, we can conclude that the Gītā can be reckoned to be a literary genre which provides literary space for the narrator or composer or compiler or even a divine agent to intervene as and when it is needed or prompted. Just to form an idea of what this literary genre looks like in content and form, one small dialogue-verse by Kṛṣṇa is given below: THE LORD SAID:

I am Time matured to annihilate the worlds, My course has been set in this time to destroy them.

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These soldiers drawn up in hostile ranks, even without you will soon be no more.



So get up! Win fame, and conquer the foe! Enjoy your kingdom and all its riches. All these men I have slain already;

Droṇa and Bhīṣma and King Jayadratha, Karṇa as well and the other virile soldiers I have killed, so kill them! Don’t waver! Just fight, and you’ll conquer your foes in battle. (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 193–194)

Here it is assumed that Kṛṣṇa’s participation in the Battle of Kurukshethra is divinely destined and the Gītā thereof is inevitable to the main story of the epic.

The Biblical Point of Reference: The Davidic Story as Davidic Itihāsic Itihāsic (epic) is an underlying narrative mode of biblical narration as well. It finds its finest expression in Deuteronomistic literature. The confluence of epic and history which occurs par excellence in the composition of biblical narrative has been examined by Damrosch and he proposes two points which stand out with regard to its nature: The first is that the epics present among the gods the sorts of staging of complexities in political and social relationships that the Bible will present in human terms, as in the stories of the patriarchs and of the King David. The second point is the regularity with which these themes are associated with the problem of morality, which is the chief locus in the epics for developing the double theme of the origins and nature of human culture. (1991:65)

In this way he sees a profound historical dimension within the biblical poetic epic. The history of antiquity is in the sense as Rad describes: “A historical sense is a particular form of causational thinking, applied in practice in a broad succession of political events. It, therefore, involves a particularly acute perception of the realities of a nation’s situation” (Damrosch 1991:56). In Deuteronomic literature, a remarkable expression of the unusually complex attitudes towards past history can be seen. As Damrosch points out, such an Itihāsic approach to history came about “as the result of a far-reaching transformation of earlier genres, resulting in a combination of many of the values, themes, and formal properties of historical chronicle with those of poetic epic” (1991:41).

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The Davidic Itihāsic is the summit of narrative transformation in this regard. “Through its exploration of themes of separation, exile, and revolt, the David story produces the fullest transformation in the Bible of prose history into the mode of poetic epic” (Damrosch 1991:143). Henn remarks on why he lingers on this incredible story: It forms a compact and exciting miniature epic. It has many of the elements of the traditional romances; the election of the humble, the duel with the giant, the consultation of oracles, the enchanted sword, the raising of a ghost. In the whole cycle, loaded with ironies of hubris and human arrogance, there are perpetual reminders of the classic sequences of Shakespeare’s history plays. At every turn of the story there is profound psychological interest; not only in the kings and captains and warriors, but in the temper of the small cities and their peoples. (1970:202)

The Davidic story brought under the purview of an epic has already gained currency among biblical scholars. In the following section we attempt to throw more light upon those narrative approaches, by exploring the extent of the Davidic Story as an epic (Itihāsic), i.e. the narrative art in the form of epic embodied in the mystery of words and emblematic in the treatment of characters and plots, gaining narrative insights from the ancient Indian epics. Whether Succession Narrative or Davidic Itihāsic? According to the Indian Itihāsic point of view, the Story of David unfolding in the Books of Samuel cannot be fragmented into and reduced in its narrative scope just to Succession Narrative; and it is incongruous to consider the preceding and succeeding narratives as its ancillaries. It is an Itihāsic in its fullest and deepest sense. As the word Itihāsic (iti=thus, ha=indeed, āsa=it was -> “thus-indeedit-was” or “thus-verily-happened”) suggests, it has a more precise connotation than the word history. The etymology attested to by Panini indicates itiha to mean ‘in this tradition.’ The corpus of Itihāsic comprises not just history, as it is conceived by Western scholarship, but tradition as a whole which finds its manifestation in a variety of narrative modes such as the chronicles of the ancients (Purāṇa), history (Itivrtta), tales (Akhyayika), illustrative stories (Udaaharana), the canon of Righteous conduct (Dhármaśāstra), the science of Government (Arthaśāstra),9 etc. In the etymology of Itihāsic, there is clearly embedded an accentuation of the tradition and of the interpretative aspect of history. Thus, history will be the narration of events as they happened, in the form of a story, which as a rule is called Itihāsic (epic). Therefore, this study prefers to look into the wider perspective of the story of David from the vantage point of Itihāsic. The conventional biblical scholarship

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perceives 2 Sam 9–20 together with 1 Kgs 1–2 as a coherent unit with the designation “Court History” or “Succession Narrative.” Many narrative attributes contribute to this perception, such as plot, theme, interlocking subject matter, style, outlook, etc. Thus, it has been acclaimed as one of the finest pieces of prosaic narrative in the Ancient Near East. The idea that the aim of the so-called Succession Narrative is to justify and uphold the claims of Solomon himself (Why was it Solomon who succeeded David on the throne?), not primarily the Davidic dynasty, has been called into question by many scholars “because it is impossible to extract these chapters cleanly from the surrounding narrative and to see them as a separate source” (McKenzie in Coogan 2010:445). They point out many reasons to substantiate their claims. For example, “… to claim that the theme of the narrative is the question, “Who shall succeed David?”, is in fact to shift our focus away from its natural centre of interest throughout the whole story. If this is indeed the over-arching theme … then 2 Sam 2–4 has only the tangential association with it (Gunn 1978:81)”; “… there are ties between chs 9–20 and chs 2–4, such as the description of Mephibosheth’s injury in 4.4 and 9.3 and the importance of the ‘sons of Zeruiah,’ Joab and his brothers” (McKenzie in Coogan 2010:445); “… we get little if any hint that we are to view either Amnon or Absalom as Solomon’s rivals, nor that what is taking place in chapters 13–20 is a steady movement bringing us significantly nearer to the point where only Adonijah will stand between Solomon and the throne.” (Gunn 1978:83)

The gist of what they want to say is that the centrality and significance of this theme of Solomonic succession has been considerably overstated. “On the contrary this is above all else a story about David and not any successor or potential successor. It is David who stands in or behind every scene and David around whom every episode ultimately revolves” (Gunn 1978:83). These and several other scholarly opinions support the Itihāsic outlook of the Story of David, especially of the so-called Succession Narrative. An Itihāsic approach to the Story of David will surely fit into the general narrative scheme of the Bible. “If we read and re-read the Bible with these common aspects in mind, it seems to achieve a new focus, that of a great and diverse epic, ‘a nexus of states of being’” (Henn 1970:258). Itihāsic here means in a way a nexus of states of being as lived and relived, received and recycled in this tradition. It is in this sense the nexus of the state of being (Ithiha-āsa) concerning the Davidic monarchy narrated in the second Book of Samuel, which has to be understood, rather than succession or accession, as the main leitmotif. How this ‘thus-indeed-it-was’ (iti-ha-āsa) from the narrator’s point of view unfolds itself in those narrative trajectories will be analysed in the following points.

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Multiple Embedding in the Davidic Itihāsic Embedded narrative forms very much part of the Indian Epic tradition. The Mahābhārata has eighteen parvas (episodes) and each contains several embedded stories. In a number of different ways this technique of multiple embedding is being employed; for example, characters telling stories to each other; creating ideal audience; listening being a way of assuming a position of power; telling or listening to a story as a means of redemption; absolution or salvation; hallucination or dream experienced by a character; encountering a new situation, event or character; discovering something new accidently, etc. In the Davidic Itihāsic it is mainly through some temporal phrases implying a change of narrative level, either enunciative or fictional, either contextual or semantic, for example, ‘now,’ ‘after this,’ ‘the time that …,’ ‘when,’ ‘then,’ ‘now then,’ ‘some time afterward,’ ‘some time passed,’ ‘in the spring of the year,’ etc. In this way, many stories are brought into a framing structure and that conveys a point of view and leads the listeners to other related leifmotifs. It creates a semantic horizon of stories, in which a variety of actual and virtual stories are interwoven. Let us have a look at how this technique is employed in the Davidic Itihāsic. As per the finding of this study, in the Davidic Itihāsic the multiple embedding is employed mainly in two ways: multiple embedding at the level of main plot and multiple embedding at the level of individual episode. Multiple Embedding at the Level of Main Plot In order to explore the aspects involved in the multiple embedding at the level of main plot, 2 Samuel 1–10 can be taken as one virtual entity with narrative sequence. The main theme that frames this narrative section can be set forth thus: ‘David settles down as the King.’ The opening phrase “After the death of Saul …” of 2Sa 1:1a itself gives indication to this general framing of the plot and it closes with the opening phrase “In the Spring of the year …” of ch.11 where a new theme with a new frame of narrative begins. In this general framing, many stories are embedded to show that the house of Saul became weaker and weaker and David grew stronger and stronger (3:1). When we arrive at ch.11, we encounter a David at the peak of Spring with regard to his Kingship. Therefore, the plot of David committing adultery with Bathsheba could be rightly conceived as the beginning of a new episode where the shift from David’s settling down as King to the saga of turmoil in his household takes place. What happens immediately after the death of Saul (“After the death of Saul …” 2Sa 1:1a) is the subject matter of chs 1–10 unfolding through the embedded stories. After the death of Saul, David settles down as the King. ‘How’, ‘what’ and

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‘why’ of this settling down can be summed up in three sub-themes: (1) David as the right successor of Saul, (2) David’s Kingship as the fulfilment of the Divine promise, and (3) David as King pleasing to all. To highlight all these three points of view, the narrator delineates a variety of mutually compatible and incompatible sequences of events. They are interlocked with the device of embedding and the points of view they convey are mutually supportive. A panoramic view of this interconnectedness and the distribution of themes is illustrated below: “After the death of Saul …” (2Sa 1:1a)  David as the right Successor of Saul Embedded Stories to this theme: Ishbaal King of Israel and the Battle of Gibeon (2:8–32) Abner defects to David (3:1–21) Philistine attack repulsed (5:17–24) David’s wars and Officers (8:1–18)

David settles down as the King 

“In the spring of the year …” (2Sa 11:1a) 

David’s Kingship as the Fulfillment of the Divine Promise Embedded Stories to this theme:

David as King Pleasing to all

David anointed King of Judah (2:1–7) David anointed King of all Israel (5:1–5) Jerusalem made the capital of all Kingdoms (5:6–16) David brings the Ark to Jerusalem (6:1–23) God’s covenant with David (7:1–17) David’s prayer (7:18–29) David mourns for Saul and Jonathan (1:1–27)

Abner is killed by Joab (3:22–39) Ishbaal assassinated (4:1–12) David’s kindness to Mephibosheth (9:1–13) The Ammonites and Arameans are defeated (10:1–19)

Embedded Stories to this theme:

Figure 27.  Multiple Embedding at the Level of Main Plot.

The narrator wants to expose the credentials of David to be the successor of Saul; to show that he had no hand in destroying the Lord’s anointed (1:14) or in the fall of the mighty (1:19,25) and to convince his tribesmen that whatever happened was in accordance with the promise of the Lord and he has just been cooperating with it, perhaps even as a passive actant. Although David has already been in the limelight in the previous episodes (2Sa 16–31), his Kingship has always been at stake. Moreover, in spite of his being anointed by Samuel, he defected to the Philistines and fought in battle for them and settled in their territory Ziklag. It was his task to win the hearts and gain the confidence of his tribesmen and make them say, “Look, we are your bone and flesh” (5:1). It was his journey from Ziklag

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(ch. 1) to Hebron (2:1–7) and from Hebron to Jerusalem (ch. 5). All these themes are part of David’s settling down as King and they are loosely interwoven to get to the focal point. The opening emblematic and temporal phrase “After the death of Saul …” functions as a framing narrative in which stories after stories are embedded to unfold the above-mentioned themes. After the death of Saul, David wages many wars against the enemies of Judah and Israel and defeats them and proves that he is as worthy as Saul, or even more, to be the King (2:12–32; 5:17–25); 8; 10). After the death of Saul, David shows loyalty and kindness to the offspring of Saul (9:1–13) and even kills those who lifted their hands to destroy the Lord’s anointed (1:16; 3:36–39; 4:1–12). After the death of Saul, David allows himself to be the subject of the Divine promise and makes it known to the people through his actions such as his anointment (5:1–5), Jerusalem made the capital of all kingdoms (5:6–16), bringing the Ark to Jerusalem (6:1–23), his dancing before the Lord with all his might (6:14), his readiness to build a temple for the Lord (7:2–3) and his response to the covenant and his prayer (7:1–29). The first (ch. 1) and the last (ch.10) chapters of this narrative unit are trying to present the same face of David—a kind, compassionate, loyal and sympathetic David. In the first chapter we see a David who mourns the death of his arch-rival Saul and his intimate friend Jonathan; and even vehemently condemns their murder (Were you not afraid to lift your hand to destroy the Lord’s anointed? v.14). In ch.10 we see a David who sends messengers to convey condolences at the death of Nahash, king of the Ammonites and to console his son Hanun. The irony is that in both cases the narrator makes the portrait of a David who is compelled or who has no other choice but to use force and violence to show his good intention. He killed one who brought the message that Saul is murdered (1) and he attacks the Ammonites who doubted his good intention (10). This has been a recurring theme (i.e. David who is kind; but compelled to use violence, for reasons that were not of his own and who often had no part in the killing of his adversaries) throughout this narrative segment, and has been clearly expressed in these verses: “All the people took notice of it, and it pleased them; just as everything the king did pleased all the people. So all the people and all Israel understood that day that the king had no part in the killing of Abner son of Ner” (3:36–37). The same thing happens in the assassination of Ishbaal: “… wicked men have killed a righteous man on his bed in his own house! And now shall I not require his blood at your hand, and destroy you (the murderers Rechab and Baanah) from the earth?” (4:11). David’s kindness to Mephibosheth (9:1–13) also adds to this narrative scheme. What is the role of David’s prayer (7:18–29) or God’s covenant with David in this Itihāsic narrative structure? When the stories are embedded, how does it fit the storyline? As has already been discussed, chs. 1–10 tell the story of David settling down as King. Here David’s relationship to the Lord is a key factor in

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legitimising his kingship and the succession of the house of David. That is the culmination of his settling down: “Now when the king was settled in his house, and the Lord had given him rest from all his enemies around him” (7:1). It is reflected in his prayer as well (7:18–29): May this be instruction for the people, O Lord God! And what more can David say to you? For you know your servant, O Lord God! Because of your promise, and according to your own heart, you have wrought all this greatness, so that your servant may know it (19b–21). And now, O Lord God, as for the word that you have spoken concerning your servant and concerning his house, confirm it forever; do as you have promised (25). And now, O Lord God, you are God, and your words are true, and you have promised this good thing to your servant (28).

David’s conversation with the Lord in the form of a prayer is in fact an instruction (be instruction) to the people in order that the people come to know (you know your servant; your servant may know it) that his kingship is willed (to your own heart; spoken concerning your servant, his house) and promised (your promise, you have promised …) by the Lord. ‘You know your servant’ and ‘your servant may know it’ seem to be ironical expressions which point to the ‘knowledge’ of the people that David is the chosen one. All these show that the prayer of David has a symbolic function in the framing narrative that deals with the second stage of David’s life where he settles down as the anointed, promised and legitimate king. Many retrospective aspects from the life of David are also incorporated in the prayer. This narrative device is often effectively used in Indian films. Songs, dances, poems, chants, idylls, psalms, are duly embedded in the main storyline of the film and provide the narrator a wider spectrum to give more information and to introduce more prospective, retrospective and introspective themes in an effective, affective and creative manner. David’s Itihāsic related to his settling down will be complete only with the mentioning of wars he waged against enemies both external and internal. Stories embedded carrying this theme are a clear indication that the legacy of monarchy which originated with Saul is carried on even more dynamically through the Davidic succession. Through multiple embedding the narrator guides us through plots which outline how the remaining offspring of Saul slowly vanish from the scene, either through elimination or by subjugation. The story about David as the anointed King of Judah (2:1–7) is followed by the story of Ishbaal, king of Israel (2:8–11), and the rivalry becomes more intensive with the battle of Gibeon (2:12–32). Abner’s defection from Ishbaal’s camp to David’s camp (3:1–21) gives the story a twist which progresses through the murder of Abner (3:22–39) to its culmination in the assassination of Ishbaal (4). With these plots of killings cleverly interwoven in the main story the narrator takes us to the point that the internal

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enemies of David are either eliminated or subdued without affecting the good name of David in any way (“the king had no part in the killing” 3:37). However, with regard to the external enemies, David is portrayed as a tough warrior and a rude ruler who shows no mercy to the enemies of Israel (8:1–14). The natural outcome would be, “David won a name for himself ” (8:13a). David winning a name for himself through the wars he fought and won add more colour to the Davidic Itihāsic. Multiple Embedding at the Level of Individual Episode David committing adultery with Bathsheba and its immediate consequences as one individual episode (chs. 11 and 12) could be a perfect model as the following map shows: Joab with his officers go for battle against the Ammonites to siege Rabbah

Outer Frame In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab with his officers and all Israel with him; they ravaged the Ammonites, and besieged Rabbah. But David remained at Jerusalem. (11:1) David commits adultery with Bathsheba and David has Uriah killed

Embedded Story It happened, late one afternoon, when David … (11:2f ) In the morning David … (11:14f )

Nathan is sent by the Lord to David Inner Frame But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord, and the Lord sent Nathan to David … (12:1a) Nathan tells the story Embedded Story There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor … (12:1bf ) Inner Frame

Nathan condemns David Nathan said to David, “You are the man! … (12:7f ) Bathsheba’s child dies Embedded Then Nathan went to his house. The Lord struck the child (12:15f ) Story Solomon is born Embedded Then David consoled his wife Bathsheba, and went to her (12:24f ) Story

Outer Frame

Joab with his officers go for battle against Ammonites to siege Rabbah Now Joab fought against Rabbah of the Ammonites, and took the royal city … (12:26f )

Figure 28.  Multiple Embedding at the Level of Individual Episode.

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The above map of multiple embedding within the narrative frame of an individual episode clearly shows the artistry of storytelling. David is now in the spring of his kingship and monarchy. In the outer frame the context of the following embedded stories are laid out. There we already sense something contrary to the usual practice. “In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, … But David remained at Jerusalem” (11:1). It is Joab who compels David to go out to battle by saying, “Now, then, gather the rest of the people together, and encamp against the city, and take it; or I myself will take the city, and it will be called by my name” (12:28). This closing part of the outer frame conveys the same idea as that of the opening part (11:1) in which we see a David who indulges in the vanity and pomp of monarchy and one who is negligent of his duty. In this context, what happens to David is the subject matter of the embedded stories within the framings. There we see a David who commits adultery with Bathsheba, an act which leads to the killing of an innocent man, Uriah, and grabbing his wife. The child born of his adultery dies (11:18), but the child born ‘because of the Lord’ ( Jedidiah/Solomon) lives (11:24–25). In this narrative scheme, all of the embedded characters—David, Joab, Bathsheba, Nathan and the Lord—get their equal share of importance. One story gives context, content and crux to the next and that gives the same to the following. This is the way Itihāsic is moulded and built up. The multiple embedding in the form of one character telling the story to another assumes various forms of narrative significance. Telling creates ideal teller and ideal audience and ideal result. Nathan, a character of the main plot, tells a story to David, in which telling and listening become the source of power. That gives the reader also an indication of how the stories are told, who does the telling and who listens, in what context they are told and what could be their result. A lucid reference to such an outcome of the tellability can be traced from the words of the woman of Tekoa. After telling the story to David, she reveals the intention thus: “In order to change the course of affairs” (2Sa 14:20a). Multiple embedding employed by Itihāsic is a method to change the course of affairs or to change the course of narrative trajectory. After listening to the story, a radical change takes place in David. This shift is noticeable if we read the outer frame narratives (11:1 and 12:26–31) sequentially. In the opening narrative, we encounter a David who sends Joab to battle, but in the closing narrative a David who is sent by Joab—a shift from teller to listener. This leitmotif gains more power, meaning and significance all throughout the following embedded stories. Family Saga to Nationhood “There was a long war between the house of Saul and the house of David; David grew stronger and stronger, while the house of Saul became weaker and weaker” (2 Sam 3:1).

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A story narrating the family saga, as it is between the house of Saul and the house of David, forms and transforms the imagination and mythos of a folk in the building up of its concept of nationhood. The Mahābhārata story, too, develops through the tensions and war between the Five Pāṇḍavas and their hundred paternal cousins, the Kauravas, over the kingship of their ancestral realm. In both cases, the stories make an appeal ranging beyond the family level into the level of nationhood involving various aspects concerning the formation of nationhood-myth and mythos. This kind of family saga reaching out to the notion of nationhood has cleverly been incorporated by the narrator in every main plot of the story and its progression. How the narrator achieves this poetic pinnacle of narrative fusion and allusion is here the matter of enquiry based on Indian Itihāsic insights. In this regard, this study comes up with a significant finding which will throw more light on the Davidic Episode from the Indian narrative point of view. The family saga of the Mahābhārata revolves around the narrative motif of Dhárma. It is this recurring narrative motif of Dhárma which elevates the family saga into the realm of nationhood. For instance, a close reading of the Mahābhārata shows that the constant allusion to or association of the Dhárma motif in every main plot keeps the notion of nationhood alive and it opens up the scope for its multifaceted manifestation. In the same way, the motif of the Covenant can be seen as parallel with regard to the Davidic Episode. It is the covenant-motif which offsets an otherwise family saga and which incorporates the notion of nationhood throughout the main plots. Covenant/Dhárma-motif: This study comes to the conclusion that in many respects the Covenant-motif can be interchangeable with the Dhárma-motif. A panoramic view of Dhárma has already been presented in the first chapter of part one. However, a comparative outlook of Dhárma in relation to the Covenant is graphically demonstrated below, followed by another graphic demo showing how the story progresses according to this motif. The Progression of Covenant/Dhárma-motif in 2 Samuel 1–7: The progression of Covenant/Dhárma-motif shows how it gives the family saga a face-lift, so that it takes the reader into the wider realm of nationhood. In the case of the Davidic Episode, the family saga mostly revolves around the ‘House of Saul’ and the ‘House of David’; and the manner in which the former gets increasingly weaker while the latter gets stronger. The story progresses with consecutive plots narrating the valour of the mighty people and their rise and fall. Whether it is rise or fall to the concerned families or clans, it relates to the aspect of the Covenant, which in turn breeds the idea of nationhood. This kind of a narrative transmutation that occurs in the narrative segment of 2 Samuel 1–7 has been demonstrated below.

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BERIT (Hebrew)

DHÁRMA (Sanskrit)

Etymology “bara” = to bind “berit” = fetter, bond Greek: syntheke, “binding together” or diatheke, “will, testament”

“dhṛ” = to uphold, to sustain, to support, to undergird, to establish “dhárma” = that which establishes or sustains or upholds something

Derived Meanings

social duty, cosmic order or rhythm, mode of life, code of conduct, righteousness, law, principle, compassion, morality, values, ethic, religion, etc.

obligation, binding together, will, testament, promises, obligations, liability, imposition, rituals, establish, command, issue, etc.

Typification ➢  Covenant with Noah (Genesis 8) ➢  Abrahamic Covenant (Genesis 15) ➢  Mosaic Covenant (Deuteronomy 5–7) ➢  Davidic Covenant (2 Samuel 7) ➢  The promise of the New Covenant (in Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, etc.) ➢  The New Covenant (Testament—Messianic)

➢  Varṇāśrama Dhárma (4 paths of life) ➢  Sādhāraṇa Dhárma ➢  Sanāthana Dhárma ➢  Cosmic Dhárma ➢  Kul-dhárma (duties of a clan) ➢  Rāja-dhárma (duties of the state) ➢  Praja-dhárma (the duties of the people) ➢  Mitra-dhárma (duties of the friend) ➢  Dhármaśāstra ➢  Dhárma Sūtras

Theological • God’s covenant with the humans. Implication • In relation to promises, blessings and grace. • In relation to love, obedience, law and commandment. • In relation to curse and punishment. • In relation to rituals and tradition.

• As a means to attain Divine bliss. • As a means to maintain or sustain the society by establishing order. • As a means to hold all human beings together. • As a means to sustain cosmic order. • As a means to uphold social duty and law.

Renditions ‘Ark of the Covenant’ ‘Tables of the Covenant’ ‘People of the Covenant’ ‘The Old Covenant’ ‘The New Covenant’

Puruṣārthas (4 status of life): dhárma (righteousness), artha (wealth), Kāma (pleasure), mokṣa (freedom) Varṇāśrama Dhárma (4 paths of life): brahmana (priestly), kshatriya (warrior), vaishya (merchant), shudra (worker) Dhárma-Āśramas: (4 stages of life): brahmacharya (student), grihastha (householder), vanaprastha (retirement), sannyasa (renunciation)

Figure 29.  A Comparative Outlook of Covenant/Dhárma-Motif.

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David said to him, “Were you not afraid to lift your hand to destroy the Lord’s anointed?” (1:14) David mourns over the death of Saul and Jonathan.

It is against Covenant/Dhárma (Adhárma) to kill a king anointed by God for the people. 

David sent messengers to the people of Jabesh-gilead, and said to them, “May you be blessed by the Lord, because you showed this loyalty to Saul your lord, and buried him! …” (2:5) After his anointment as the king of Judah, David rewards the people of Jabesh-gilead.

The people of Jabesh-gilead act according to the Covenant or do their Dhárma. 

So all the people and all Israel understood that day that the king had no part in the killing of Abner son of Ner. (3:37) Abner is killed by Joab.

David as king acts according to the demands of the Covenant/Rāja-dhárma. 

(David answered): How much more then, when wicked men have killed a righteous man (Ishbaal) on his bed in his own house! (4:11a) Ishbaal, the son of Saul is assassinated by Rechab and Bannah.

David upholds his Covenantal duty/Dhárma by killing the killers of a righteous man (Ishbaal). 

So all the elders of Israel came to the king at Hebron; and King David made a covenant with them at Hebron before the Lord, and they anointed David king over Israel. (5:3) David anointed King of all Israel.

David qualifies himself to be the nation-builder, the king of the Covenant/Dhárma-Rāja. 

Now therefore thus you shall say to my servant David: Thus says the Lord of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel (7:8) Jerusalem made the capital (5:6–16); Philistines defeated (5:17–25) & the Ark brought to Jerusalem (6).

David proves himself to be able to sustain the nationhood according to the Divine Covenant/ Dhárma.

Figure 30.  The Progression of Covenant/Dhárma-Motif in 2 Sam 1–7.

The parallel progression of both themes, i.e. the weakening of the ‘House of Saul’ and the strengthening of the ‘House of David,’ brings out the inherent tension in an emerging nationhood mythos. Here the covenant-motif plays a significant role in bringing together and elevating the complementing and conflicting motives and themes pertaining to the family saga.

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David asks the man who brought the seemingly good tidings: Were you not afraid to lift your hand to destroy the Lord’s anointed? (1:14). ‘Lord’s anointed’ is a narrative allusion to the Covenant. Killing the Lord’s anointed goes against the norms of the Covenant. Therefore, although the killing of Saul is to David’s advantage, he acts swiftly to avenge the violation of the Covenant law and he upholds Dhárma which sustains and adheres to the national mythos. Again in the succeeding plot (ch.2), we see David as a just king rewarding the people of Jabesh-gilead for removing the body of Saul from the warfront and burying him according to the rites. The people of Jabesh-gilead show respect even to the dead Saul who is the epitome of the Covenant, which binds the people as one nation. In burying, they do their Dhárma as the people of the nation (praja-dhárma) and in rewarding, David does his Dhárma as the anointed king (rāja-dhárma). The same Covenant/Dhárma-motif continues through the following plots where we see a David who is non-guilty of the assassination of Abner (ch.3) and Ishbaal (ch.4). In the case of Abner, David plunges himself into a deep lamentation and fasting, and of Ishbaal, David avenges the murder by commanding that the assassins be killed. Such covenantal/dhármaic affirmations by the king give the people faith and confidence to rally under the king David and, thereby, the mythos of nationhood gains momentum. So all the elders of Israel came to the king at Hebron; and King David made a covenant with them at Hebron before the Lord, and they anointed David king over Israel (5:3). The expressly stated Covenant in this narrative sequence is a logical conclusion of the preceding plots’ development in the realisation of nationhood. Making Jerusalem the capital (5:6–16), the defeating of arch-enemies, the Philistines (5:17–25), and the bringing of the Ark to Jerusalem (6) contribute to this realisation. The family saga stretching out to the nationhood-mythos reaches a certain narrative peak with the events leading to the endorsement of the House of David by the Divine: Thus says the Lord of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; (7:8). From the pasture—to be prince—over my people is a natural flowering of the Covenant-motif. Moreover, this motif is recursive throughout the story with its own ups and downs and with varying manifestations. Throughout the Davidic Episode, Saul/David, being the epitome of Covenant/ Dhárma, has been esteemed as the unifying force of the nationhood-mythos. In the biblical narrative, there are also indications that the concept of Covenant encompasses the cosmic order as well. The family saga and the notion of nationhood do not exhaust the horizon of Covenant. It broadens its scope to the idea of cosmic order that belongs to the very notion of Dhárma. Biblical narration also makes use of the scope of such a notion: You mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you, nor bounteous fields! For there the shield of the mighty was defiled, the shield of Saul,

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anointed with oil no more (2 Sam 1:21). To show the drastic impact of the violation of Dhárma/Covenant, the narrator takes the reader to its cosmic realm. Mount Gilboa has been shaken to its bottom and its natural rhythm has been shattered at the slaughter of Saul who is the visible embodiment of Covenant. Whatever it is that violates the code of Covenant/Dhárma has its bearing on the cosmic order. This vital aspect of the biblical narration has not been fully explored by the traditional biblical scholarship. Let us take another example which will give a different outlook of the same notion: “I will call upon the Lord, that he may send thunder and rain; and you shall know and see that the wickedness that you have done in the sight of the Lord is great in demanding a king for yourselves.” So Samuel called upon the Lord, and the Lord sent thunder and rain that day; and all the people greatly feared the Lord and Samuel (1 Sam 12:17b–18). Again, the same notion in a different poetical outlook: One who rules over people justly, ruling in the fear of God, is like the light of morning, like the sun rising on a cloudless morning gleaming from the rain on the grassy land. Is not my house like with God? For he has made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and secure (2 Sam 23:4b–5a). Keeping or violating the rule of Covenant/Dhárma having a bearing on the cosmic order is a theme very much biblical, and that remains a decisive factor in defining the notion of nationhood. It is thus evident from the above deliberation that the biblical narrator, through frequent recursiveness of the Covenant/Dhárma motif, either by positive or by negative plotting or characterisation, brings into focus the nationhood of the Israelite people. It is also true in the case of Indian epics and Indian nationhood. Itihāsics played a significant role in the political and cultural consolidation of India as a single national entity, in spite of their being the familial affairs of two dynasties— the Rāmāyaṇa of the solar dynasty and the Mahābhārata of the lunar dynasty. In fact, the conflicts arising in respect to roles such as king, priest, prophet, queen, concubine, sage, soldier, etc., define the demands of Dhárma. Their individual identities become absorbed within the Itihāsic national mythos. In the temporal and spatial realm of the plots, the complexities of humans’ social, political, religious and individual life are unfolded. We are being given a master lesson by the story-teller about the complexities of human psychology in relation to dharma’s demands. We are in the midst, first and foremost, of a human drama, not a cipher of some secret teaching lurking beneath the surface. And the human drama continues to unfold. (Lipner 2010:233)

The demands of Dhárma unfolded in and through the human drama set out the qualities that will sustain the notion of nationhood, togetherness, sense of belonging, etc. These are the same qualities that the biblical narrator is trying to articulate when s/he brings in the Covenant-motif in every plot.

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Gītāic10 Genre in the Davidic Episode Gītā as a genre with a distinct characteristic in the narrative formation has already been discussed above. “In its setting in the Bhīṣmaparvan, the Bhagavad Gītā, appears to form a component of the narrative rather than merely an intrusion, but its relationship to the Mahābhārata and its consistency have both been subject to debate …” (Brockington 1998:267). There are both Western and Indian scholars who oppose and defend the unity and integrity of the Bhagavad Gītā in relation to the Mahābhārata. As an example, Brockington points out the arguments of Paul Oltramare: As part of his (Oltramare’s) rejection of the possibility that the present text had replaced an original simpler text, he argued that it succeeds in its aim of justifying the heroes’ conduct, showing its consistency with Vedic and other schools and opposing those who rejected orthodoxy; hence it is inappropriate to see it as an insertion. (1998:268)

On the other hand, the possibility of later expansion of brief narratives originally containing the dialogue between Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna on the battlefield is also tenable. Among all these assumptions, it is significant to note that the theological and philosophical messages gītā contains owe much to the context of the Mahābhārata and there is frequent allusion to the epic. This aspect of the narrative formation is the matter of particular interest to this study and, thus, it dares to call gītā as a distinct genre, rather than an intrusion or insertion. Thus, this study prefers to call it gītāic genre. What qualifies gītā to be called a distinct and constitutive genre in the Itihāsic narrative structure can be summed up as follows: (a) It interprets the contexts of the present, preceding and succeeding plots with transcendental motifs. (b) It is mostly polished and versified composition. (c) It relates the mundane elements of the individual plots and the entire story with that of the supernal. (d) It takes the task of connecting Smṛti and śruti. (e) It functions as an authorial device to express the narrator’s point of view with regard to the characters and plots. (f ) It often gives the story a moral twist by addressing divine-human and human-human relations in the realm of ethics in order to achieve self-realisation or salvation. The Mahābhārata epic’s narrative dynamism, which paved the way for the gītāic growth, is extraordinary and unique, for it brought forth a full-fledged narrative

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masterpiece called the Bhagavad Gītā. The gītāic genre occurs in the Biblical narrative too, but in a different manner. Taking the characteristic features of the gītāic genre into account, one can come to the assumption that it has well been incorporated between the plots of the main text in the Bible, either contracted or expanded. Such a narrative dynamism cannot be underestimated as intrusion or insertion. In order to get an analogous outlook, one selected text each from both the Bhagavad Gītā (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 193) and the Davidic Episode are given in the table below: THE DAVIDIC EPISODE of the Bible

THE BHAGAVAD GĪTĀ of the Mahābhārata

David intoned this lamentation over Saul and his son Jonathan. (He ordered that The Song of the Bow be taught to the people of Judah; it is written in the Book of Jashar.) He said: Your glory, O Israel, lies slain upon your high places! How the mighty have fallen! Tell it not in Gath, proclaim it not in the streets of Ashkelon; or the daughters of the Philistines will rejoice, the daughters of the uncircumcised will exult. You mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you, nor bounteous fields! For there the shield of the mighty was defiled, the shield of Saul, anointed with oil no more. From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan did not turn back, nor the sword of Saul return empty. Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided; they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you with crimson, in luxury, who put ornaments of gold on your apparel. How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle! Jonathan lies slain upon your high places. I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan; greatly beloved were you to me; your love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women. How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!

Arjuna said: Into you enter the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, along with the hosts of earth-guarding kings. Bhīṣma and Droṇa, the driver’s son Karṇa along with our best warriors. Rushing furiously into your mouths, past jagged, grotesque and dreadful fangs, some fall and get stuck between your teeth; their heads are snapped off and ground to a pulp.

(2 Samuel 1:17–27)

(The Mahābhārata, Chap II)

Streaming like torrents of so many rivers, surging, swollen, bound for the sea, these virile warriors from the human world enter your mouths illumined by flames. Like moths entering a mass conflagration, who fly at full speed to their own destruction, all these worlds are entering your mouths; they fly at full speed to their own destruction. You lick at the world and swallow them up; none can escape your flaming mouths. You made the whole cosmos shine with your brilliance; now your lustrous flames turn scorching cruel. Tell me, what is this cruel form of yours? Homage to you, best of gods, please be calmed! I wish to know who you are in the beginning, for I do not understand this course you’ve begun.

Figure 31. Gītāic Genre in the Davidic Episode.

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The narrative segments given in Figure 31 for a comparative outlook show how content-wise the gītāic genre forms part of the Itihāsic setting. Some likely texts of gītāic allusion in the Davidic Episode will show how structure-wise it can be part of the same setting. The illustrative table below will give a general picture of the narrative setting of those texts in the whole scheme of the gītāic genre:

SOME LIKELY TEXTS OF GĪTĀIC ALLUSION IN THE DAVIDIC EPISODE 1 Samuel 2:1–10

Hannah’s Prayer

Narrative Location: In between the plots of Samuel’s Birth and Dedication and Eli’s Wicked Sons. 1 Samuel 28:5–25

Saul Consults a Medium

Narrative Location: In between the plots of the Philistines’ encampment in Shunem against Saul and the Rejection of David by their Commanders. 2 Samuel 1:17–27

David’s Lamentation

Narrative Location: In between the plots of David mourning for Saul and Jonathan and David anointed King of Judah. 2 Samuel 7:18–29

David’s Prayer

Narrative Location: In between the plots of God’s Covenant with David and David’s Wars and Officers. 2 Samuel 22–23:1–7

David’s Song of Thanksgiving and His Last Words

Narrative Location: In between the plots of the Exploits of David’s Men and David’s Mighty Men Figure 32.  Gītāic Allusion in the Davidic Episode.

Hannah’s Prayer (1 Samuel 2:1–10): Hannah’s Prayer is located in between the plots of Samuel’s Birth and Dedication (ch.1) and Eli’s Wicked Sons (2:11–17). This polished and versified composition is a natural outgrowth of the gītāic genre out of the narrative flesh of the preceding and succeeding plots. Although it carries the form of a prayer, it interprets the situation based on the retrospective and prospective points of view. In the Bhagavad Gītā, which forms part of the big story of the Mahābhārata, just as the individual experience of Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshethra turns out to be the life-philosophy of the folk, so also

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the gītāic genre of Hannah’s Prayer takes the story into a wider spectrum of the multitude involving existential and transcendental aspects. Hannah rejoices in her victory (2:1b); and that victory defines her life-philosophy; the impact of which is imprinted in these lines: “Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed. The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird on strength” (2:3,4). What we see in Hannah’s story is victory of the humble, the feeble, knowledge of the Lord, etc.; on the other hand, what we see in the story of Eli’s Wicked Sons is the defeat of pride, arrogance of the mighty, lack of fear of the Lord, etc. The dialectics and nuances of these polarities are subtly brought out by the narrator in the gītāic genre of Hannah’s Prayer. Therefore, one can reason out that the narrative location of Hannah’s Prayer is truly intended by the narrator, and is not just an intrusion, as some may argue. The purpose that Hannah’s prayer serves to the main storyline of the Davidic Episode is the same as that served by the Bhagavad Gītā to the main storyline of the Mahābhārata. Thus, we can call it a ‘gītāic genre.’ Saul Consults a Medium (1 Samuel 28:5–25): A highly imaginative and dialogic narrative, namely the incident of Saul consulting a medium, is located in between the plots of the Philistines’ encampment in Shunem against Saul and the rejection of David by their commanders. As it is a prosaic narrative piece, the question of whether it can be deemed as of the gītāic genre comes up here. While it follows the narrative pattern, both in structure and content level, of the gītāic genre in some respect, such an assumption can be justified. First of all, structure-wise, the narrative consists of Saul consulting a medium, and is richly dialogical, involving natural and supernatural powers. In the Bhagavad Gītā, we come across Arjuna who resorts to the advice of his charioteer, Kṛṣṇa, to get himself out of his dilemma; in the case of Saul, he seeks out the help of a woman who is a medium, so that he can talk with the spirit of Samuel, in order to know the will of God. Then Saul said to his servants, “Seek out for me a woman who is a medium, so that I may go to her and inquire of her” (v.7). Then the woman said (to Saul), “whom shall I bring up for you?” He answered, “Bring up Samuel for me” (v.11). Then Samuel said to Saul, “Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up?” Saul answered, “I am in great distress, for the Philistines are warring against me, and God has turned away from me and answers me no more, either by prophets or by dreams; so I have summoned you to tell me what I should do” (v.15).

This kind of a thickly dialogical narrative (Saul-Servants, the woman medium-Saul, Samuel-Saul) which takes place in a plot that takes the reader to a certain metareality is poetical and resembles the plot in the Mahābhārata where Arjuna and

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Kṛṣṇa engaged in a dialogue on the brink of war. Here, too, Saul is very worried about the result of the war in the offing with the Philistines and the narrator makes use of this narrative space to bring in such a gītāic genre as ‘Saul consulting a medium’ in the main storyline. The dialogue progressing through the plot by itself unfolds many realities concerning the pre-war and post-war situations. The plot of Saul consulting a medium reveals the gravity of issues involved in the preceding and succeeding plots in a more specific way. Mainly it reveals an ‘abandoned Saul,’ a ‘deserted Saul’ or an ‘alienated Saul.’ There we see a Saul who is abandoned, deserted and alienated in every manner and by the individuals who mean a lot to his kingship. Saul’s loyal mighty man and armor-bearer David deserted to the Philistine king, Achish of Gath: So David set out and went over, he and the six hundred men who were with him, to King Achish son of Maoch of Gath (27:2). Achish said to the commanders of the Philistines, “Is this not David, the servant of King Saul of Israel, who has been with me now for days and years? Since he deserted to me I have found no fault in him to this day” (29:3); Saul’s mediator Samuel deserted him by his death: Now Samuel had died, and all Israel had mourned for him and buried him in Ramah, his own city (28:3a); moreover, Yahweh abandoned Saul: When Saul inquired of the Lord, the Lord did not answer him, not by dreams, or by Urim, or by prophets (28:6). In this abandoned and deserted state, Saul is in great distress, for the Philistines are warring against him (28:15b). The gravity and intensity of this state has been brought out in a highly literary style in this plot of Saul consulting the medium. In a way, it is a lamentation in the dramatic form and it foreshadows the forthcoming fall of Saul. In fact, what we see in this plot, is the defeat before the final defeat, the virtual death before the physical death which is played out by Saul himself. The kind of mental distress Saul is going through has been portrayed from different angles. For example, Saul himself violates what he enforced vigorously with regard to the mediums and the wizards: Saul had expelled the mediums and the wizards from the land (28:3). Then Saul said to his servants, “Seek out for me a woman who is a medium, so that I may go to her and inquire of her” (28:7); Saul has to shed his kingly robe to go out to meet the woman-medium: So Saul disguised himself and put on other clothes and went there, he and two men with him (28:8a); Saul misuses his power by exempting the woman from the punishment: But Saul swore to her by the Lord, “As the Lord lives, no punishment shall come upon you for this thing” (28:10); the desperate Saul even dares to disturb the dead Samuel by bringing him up: Then Samuel said to Saul, “Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up?” (28:15); the mighty Saul himself yields to fear, and allows his physical strength and mental spirit to be drained by falling on the ground and fasting: Immediately Saul fell full length on the ground, filled with fear because of the words of Samuel; and there was no

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strength in him, for he had eaten nothing all day and all night (28:20). All these subtleties of Saul’s state of being, in which he is caught up, have been brought out by the narrative device of the gītāic genre from the Indian point of view. David’s Lamentation (2 Samuel 1:17–27): David’s Lamentation is located in between the plots of David mourning for Saul and Jonathan (1:1–16) and David being anointed King of Judah (2:1–7). As the Gītā describes (vide supra: Figure 31), Arjuna’s weariness at the warfront confronting the reality that he is obliged to fight against his own mighty gurus and other kith and kin, falls in line with David lamenting for the fallen mighty people such as Saul and Jonathan who were dear to him. To squeeze out the paradox of this existential situation, the narrator resorts to the gītāic genre. It serves varying narrative purposes. For example, it gives an additional portrait of the character’s traits and the way they affects the rest of the story. In the case of Arjuna, he is weary and perplexed, and reluctant to set off for Dhárma-yudha ( Just-war), and seeks an answer for the cruelty of his fate: “ You made the whole cosmos shine with your brilliance; now your lustrous flames turn scorching cruel. Tell me, what is this cruel form of yours?” In the case of David, although he is at the threshold of being anointed king, he finds no solace in the fall of Saul and Jonathan: “ Your glory, O Israel, lies slain upon your high places! How the mighty have fallen!” (v.19). This lamentation brings an introspective aspect also into focus. The forthcoming imminent ‘fall’ of David is indirectly referred to through the introspective existential questions and reflections. This is exactly what the narrator intends to achieve through the gītāic genre. David, who is going to be anointed the King of Judah (2:1–7), stands before a plethora of existential questions with a perplexed and distressed (v.26) mind and with lamentation. Arjuna’s lamentation over his great gurus and fellow-warriors, who have fallen in battle, resembles that of David. Arjuna says: Bhīṣma and Droṇa, the driver’s son Karṇa along with our best warriors. Rushing furiously into your mouths, past jagged, grotesque and dreadful fangs, some fall and get stuck between your teeth; their heads are snapped off and ground to a pulp … Tell me, what is this cruel form of yours? (vide supra: Figure 31). David laments: How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle! Jonathan lies slain upon your high places (2 Sam 1:25). When Arjuna turns to Kṛṣṇa for his existential questions, David turns to the Lord to understand the hard realities around him: How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished! After this David enquired of the Lord …” (1:27–2:1a). Such an introspection into the state of affairs takes the story from mundane planes to the supernal and futuristic. One can appreciate ‘David’s Lamentation’ as a gītāic genre of authorial device and thus, it justifies its narrative location, structure, subject matter and point of view in the general setting of the Davidic Episode.

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David’s Prayer (2 Samuel 7:18–29): David’s Prayer is located in between the plots of God’s Covenant with David (7:1–17) and David’s Wars and Officers (ch.8). Both these preceding and succeeding respective plots deal with divergent narrative themes. One speaks about covenant and the other about wars and officers. Then what is the role of ‘David’s Prayer’ in between? The role it plays is the same as the Gītā plays in the Mahābhārata epic. It mainly integrates seemingly disintegrated themes and points of view. It is extremely important for David to win over the hearts of the people of Israel before he becomes victorious over the external enemies. David’s Prayer as gītāic genre does that job from a narrative point of view. David relates the covenant with the house of David with that of the Israelite people. In the Prayer we see frequent references by David to God’s covenant extending to the Israelites as a whole: 18 Then King David went in and sat before the LORD, and said, “Who am I, O Lord GOD, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far? 19 And yet this was a small thing in your eyes, O Lord GOD; you have spoken also of your servant’s house for a great while to come. May this be instruction for the people, O Lord GOD! 20 And what more can David say to you? For you know your servant, O Lord GOD! 21 Because of your promise, and according to your own heart, you have wrought all this greatness, so that your servant may know it. 22 Therefore you are great, O LORD God; for there is no one like you, and there is no God besides you, according to all that we have heard with our ears. 23  Who is like your people, like Israel? Is there another nation on earth whose God went to redeem it as a people, and to make a name for himself, doing great and awesome things for them, by driving out before his people nations and their gods? 24  And you established your people Israel for yourself to be your people forever; and you, O LORD, became their God. 25 And now, O LORD God, as for the word that you have spoken concerning your servant and concerning his house, confirm it forever; do as you have promised. 26 Thus your name will be magnified forever in the saying, ‘The LORD of hosts is God over Israel’; and the house of your servant David will be established before you. 27  For you, O LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, have made this revelation to your servant, saying, ‘I will build you a house’; therefore your servant has found courage to pray this prayer to you. 28 And now, O Lord GOD, you are God, and your words are true, and you have promised this good thing to your servant; 29  now therefore may it please you to bless the house of your servant, so that it may continue forever before you; for you, O Lord GOD, have spoken, and with your blessing shall the house of your servant be blessed forever.”

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The above gītāic genre fulfils its narrative function in the storyline. More precisely, David’s Prayer bridges the narrative gap between God’s covenant with David in 7:1–16 and David’s victorious wars and reign in ch.8. Covenant embodies the promise (I will make for you a great name, 7:9b); the victorious wars embody the fulfilment of the promise (David won a name for himself, 8:13a); and the Prayer brings together in a supreme way the key factors and people involved in the promise and its fulfilment, i.e. the Lord and the people of the Lord (7:23b), as is shown in the figure below:

Figure 33.  David’s Prayer in the Setting of the Gītāic Genre.

The promise of the Lord in the plot of Covenant that He will make for him (David) a great name finds its first fulfilment in the plot of David’s Wars where he (David) wins a name for himself. The Lord’s promise and David’s achievement are exalted to a higher focal point at the expression in Prayer, ‘God makes a name for himself ’: “Is there another nation on earth whose God went to redeem it as a people, and to make a name for himself …” (7:23b). Here, David exalts God as He is making a name for Himself, not David. David’s achievements are attributed to the Lord, and, thereby, the Lord making a great name for David and David making a name for himself become the Lord making a name for Himself. Here the Lord making a name for Himself embraces both David and the chosen people, and, thereby, the Covenant gains universal appeal. All these assumptions point to the fact that only when we reckon David’s Prayer to be of the gītāic genre, will we be able to bring the diverging themes and points of view into consonance and appreciate its narrative entry and entity to the full.

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David’s Song of Thanksgiving and His Last Words (2 Samuel 22–23:1–7): David’s Song of Thanksgiving and His Last Words are located in between the plots of the Exploits of David’s Men (21:15–22) and David’s Mighty Men (23:8–39). This piece of gītāic genre finds its narrative entry at the peak of David’s glory and of kingly power. At this stage David is, in fact, the hero and the protagonist of the story; but those attributes are shifted to another hero: ‘the Lord.’ The narrator presents a different David who, although standing in the midst of the achievements (21:15–22) and the mightiness (23:8–39) of his Men, attributes all his victory and glory to the Lord. It gives the story a moral twist by addressing divine-human and human-human relations. We encounter in the Bhagavad Gītā the same moral twist in the conversation between the mighty Arjuna, who is acclaimed to be the hero of the war, and the charioteer, Lord Kṛṣṇa: कर्मण्ये वाधिकारस्ते म फलेषु कदाचना कर्मफलेह्तुर भुरमा ते संगोस्त्वकर्मानी॥ (Ch. 2, 47) Karmanye vadhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachna Karmaphalehtur bhurma te sangostvakarmani. You have a right to perform your prescribed duty, but you are not entitled to the fruits of action. Never consider yourself the cause of the results of your activities, and never be attached to not doing your duty.

Here Arjuna is advised to do his duty, and although he is mighty, it is not his mightiness which brings fruit, but his commitment to Dhárma. Dhárma has its own driving force, which brings forth the fruit of action and it is not the valour of the archer (i.e. Arjuna) or the mightiness of the king (i.e. David) that matters. This driving force of Dhárma in the Gītā or Covenant in the Bible is personified in various Divine attributes such as Brahma in the Gītā or the Lord in David’s Thanksgiving. In both cases, it is the gītāic genre that gives the story this kind of moral and transcendental narrative twist. Thus, the story enmeshed in the exploits and valour of the mighty men and in the mundane details of the war undergoes a transformation by the creative interference of the narrator who incorporates the gītāic genre at the proper narrative space. The scope of the Itihāsic model in the appreciation of the Davidic Episode has been treated above with objective textual interaction. The above findings clearly show that there is room for the Itihāsic model with regard to the appreciation of the biblical narrative, but indeed in mutual compatibility with other models. The multifacetedness of the Itihāsic model gives depth and richness to the narrative approach. Especially in the Davidic Episode, the poetic epic meets the prose history in a unique way, as Damrosch puts it: “In the many-layered text that has resulted from these shifting modes of composition, prose history

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achieves the depth and beauty of poetic epic. David has become the most complex hero since Gilgamesh, and 1–2 Samuel has become the masterpiece of biblical narrative” (1987:260). In the above discussion, it was amazing to see that the Davidic story as Davidic Itihāsic could positively and effectively address many narrative issues that would otherwise be considered as narrative flaws. That again proves that the Indian Itihāsic approach to biblical narrative can contribute constructively to better literary appreciation.

chapter six

The Main Features of Indian Narratology towards the Appreciation of the Davidic Episode

Another model with which this study approaches the Davidic Episode in view of its appreciation would be the one proposed by K. Ayyappa Paniker. It consists of Interiorisation, Serialisation, Stylisation and Improvisation, Elasticisation of time, Fantasisation, Cyclicalisation, Allegorisation, Anonymisation, and Spatialisation. These Narratological devices have been drawn out of the classical and folk literary traditions of India which come under the general category of Indian poetics. It can be validly asked, why yet another theoretical approach when we have already the classical theories such as dhvani, alaṅkāra, rasa, etc. As Paniker rightly points out, it is an “attempt to fill the lacunae in the critical tradition to supply the missing link” (2003 (IN): 3). Moreover, it is an effort to categorise the main tools and devices employed in the Indian narrative tradition. Such categorisation makes their application feasible and makes the savouring of the text possible and meaningful. Therefore, this study strongly believes that the application of these Narratological devices will surely serve to a certain extent towards a similar savouring of the biblical narrative as well. An overview of the basic constituents of each of those narrative features has already been presented in the theoretical part of this model (Ch.3). To avoid repetition, an abstract of them will be given in the following section, before proceeding to the textual application of each Narratological device. Here an attempt is

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made to set them in motion in the appreciation of the story of David unfolding in the Books of Samuel. “A mode of encountering the work which starts with the author, proceeds through the text and finally arrives at the reader to be fulfilled not only makes the completion of the work possible but opens the road to the fullest aesthetic appreciation” (Paniker 2003 (Int): 7). As Paniker observes, this mode of encountering the work involves the author, the text and the reader and their mutual interaction taking place in the narrative trajectory extending towards its appreciation.

Interiorisation and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Sam 21–24 ➢  A contrast between the surface features of a text and its internal essence. ➢  Surface simplicity and internal complexity. ➢  External features very attractive and seductive, at the same time, interiorise a deep and complex intent. ➢  A multiplicity of layer upon layer of signification of interiorised tales. ➢  More complex the inner fabric, simpler the outer frame. ➢  The possibility of the reader remaining satisfied with the exterior.

The narratological implications of Interiorisation in the Indian literary context have already been discussed in Ch. 3. Interiorisation could be one of the above said devices, with which the so-called miscellaneous narratives of 2 Samuel 21–24 can be better understood and interpreted. There exists in the narrative segment of 2 Samuel 21–24 incoherence and discrepancies in the outer structure and form. Interiorisation could justify such departure from the general norms and common flow of narration and make it intelligible and sensible. We have to read and re-read the narrative to coax another level of meaning. Before making such an attempt, let us have a quick look at the basic narrative structure and the conventional perception of this narrative miscellany.

The Basic Narrative Structure of 2 Sam 21–24 2 Samuel 21–24, which forms the last part of the Books of Samuel, contains the following main themes: a. Bloodguilt, famine and atonement 21:1–14 b. The Israelites’ wars with the Philistines 21:15–22 c. David’s hymns of praise and thanksgiving to the Lord 22

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d. The last words of David 23:1–7 e. The anecdotes and names of the heroes 23:8–39 f. Census, punishment and compassion 24 The first plot contains Saul’s atrocities against the Gibeonites which violate a treaty that the Israelites have made with them and, as a consequence, the Israelites are struck by famine. As atonement for the atrocities, David hands over the seven sons of Saul to the Gibeonites to be put into the gallows (21:1–14). The next narrative section gives details of the wars and the battles David fought against the Philistines with the aid of his mighty warriors (21:15–22). In between, the narrative flow breaks and gives way to the hymns of David in praise of God’s mighty works and of thanksgiving (22). It is followed by another hymn of David that is considered to be his last words (23:1–7). There appears at the second part of the same chapter an illustrious narration of the heroes of David’s warriors (23:8–39). The book ends with yet another calamity which falls upon the people of Israel as a punishment for David’s insistence on taking a census that goes against the will of God (24).

The Conventional Perception of 2 Samuel 21–24 It is widely held that 2 Samuel 21–24 is a collection of miscellaneous appendices annexed to the end of the book which breaks the chronological narrative flow of the story. “An anthology of supplementary documents that have not been chronologically integrated into the main narrative forms the conclusion of 2 Samuel” (Harris 1980:135). Some of the theologians even go to the extent of saying that it lacks any literary function. “It is a kind of appendix to the account of David’s life, in which disparate blocks of material are assembled in a convenient manner” (Damrosch 1991:237). This part has also been conceived as separate units with a chiastic structure (a-b-c-c’-b’-a’) with six interlocking themes. The critics of the traditional understanding of this narrative section are of the opinion that the narrative entity and identity of it in the narrative framework of the Samuel Books is not of something accidental or incoherent, but just the opposite. “Recent critics have abundantly demonstrated the compositional coherence of Chs. 21–24 and have argued for some significant links with the preceding narrative” (Alter 1999:329). Narratology has all reason to believe that the structural arrangement of Chs. 21–24 may well relate to those found in other parts of the Davidic Episode. Many authors have made serious attempts to show how the author of the Book has used narrative structure to call attention to important theological themes. For instance, Robert Alter’s observation is on the same line:

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It should, however, be kept in mind that creating a collage of disparate sources was an established literary technique used by the ancient Hebrew editors and sometimes by the original writers themselves … For that reason, it may be preferable to think of this whole unit as a coda to the story rather than as a series of appendices. (1999:329)

How this whole unit as a coda to the story upholds the narrative economy of the Davidic Episode is the point of discussion of the section to follow, from the vantage point of the above-mentioned Indian narratological features.

An Outlook of 2 Sam 21–24 Based on Interiorisation It is a fact that this part of the Books of Samuel bears seemingly a lot of narrative discrepancies, and, on account of that, it throws a challenge to the reader and appreciator. In fact, its narrative significance in the storyline has been played down by the traditional biblical scholarship. Contrary to such an approach, this Indian narratological approach could better explain the discrepancies and vindicate the narrative motif behind such a stand. It is presented through interiorisation, in this section of the Davidic Episode, not only what is experienced by the characters and expressed by the narrator, but also what must be discovered by the reader from the whole narrative organisation and structure. This is a way of involving the reader in the narrative enterprise. The reader’s attention is directed from the exterior to the interior. To attain this goal, the external placement is toned down and the internal placement is strengthened. The outer frame of this narrative unit is formed by the approach and response of David to the sin of his predecessor (Saul killing the Gibeonites—21:1–14) and to his own sin (taking census of the people of Israel—ch.24). In both cases, David makes atonement for the sins. In spite of all these and in the midst of all these impediments, David enjoys victory by the mightiness of the Lord and of his men. Those accounts form the inner frame of the narrative unit. A map of the interiorised theme is given below:

The sin of David’s predecessor (Saul) and atonement by impaling to death (21:1–14) David said to the Gibeonites, “What shall I do for you? How shall I make expiation, that you may bless the heritage of the Lord?” (v.3) … he gave them into the hands of the Gibeonites, and then impaled them on the mountain before the Lord. (v.9a) God heeded supplications for the land. (v.14b)

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 David spoke to the Lord the words of this song on the day when the Lord delivered him from the hand of his enemies, and from the hand of Saul. (22:1) … The oracle of David, son of Jesse, the oracle of the man whom God exalted, the anointed of the God of Jacob, the favourite of the Strong One of Israel. (23:1) The mightiness of God at the victories of David (22:1–51) (23:1–7)

 The mightiness of David’s men at his victories (21:15–22) (23:8–39) Then David’s men swore to him, “You shall not go out with us to battle any longer, so that you do not quench the lamp of Israel.” (21:17b) These are the names of the warriors whom David had … (23:8)

 So the Lord answered his supplication for the land … (v.25b) … David was stricken to the heart because he had numbered the people. David said to the Lord, “I have sinned greatly in what I have done. But now, O Lord, I pray you, take away the guilt of your servant … (v.10) David built there an altar to the Lord, and offered burnt offerings and offerings of well-being. (v.25a) The sin of David and atonement by burnt offerings (24:1–25) Figure 34.  Interiorised Theme of 2 Sam 21–24.

At the opening part of the outer frame (21:1–14), David makes expiation for the sins by handing over the sons of Saul to the Gibeonites to be impaled, and at the closing part of the outer frame (24), by offering burnt offerings to the Lord for the sin of taking census against the will of God. David’s song of thanksgiving and the oracle exalting the mighty works of the Lord in delivering him from the enemies (22:1–51; 23:1–7) and the account of the valour and bravery of his mighty men in delivering victory (21:15–22; 23:8–39) form part of the inner frame. Both the inner and outer frames make a narrative whole which presents a point of view and which is rightly summed up at the end of the Davidic Episode as a proper conclusion to it. Thus, it cannot be underestimated just as an appendix of miscellaneous fragments. If we look at it through the lens of interiorisation, we will be able to grasp its narrative point of view and poetic sense in their wholeness. In general, the main focus of the theme could be conceptualised as ‘The Messianic role of David with regard to Sin and Salvation.’

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The Interiorisation of the Messianic Role of David towards Sin and Salvation David making expiation for the sins committed by his predecessor and by himself, and the interference of the Lord in the whole mess to bring forth salvation (not necessarily otherworldly, but concretely mundane) are focalised towards the theme of sin and salvation. Every time the narrator speaks about the exploits of David’s men or the valour of his mighty men, he brings in David who in turn attributes those exploits, valour, victory and deliverance to the Lord in the form of the song of thanksgiving or the oracle. In general, the focalization of this narrative unit is directed towards the latent messianic attributes of David. How far the messianic attributes of David are conformed to his varying roles and how they are realized and where it went wrong in realizing it are brought together by interiorisation. For example, a. David’s mediatory role as expiator by making atonement: David’s readiness to make atonement for the sins of his predecessor or of oneself has messianic allusions. David said to the Gibeonites, “What shall I do for you? How shall I make expiation, that you may bless the heritage of the Lord?” (21:3). But the king said to Araunah, “No, but I will buy them from you for a price; I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God that cost me nothing” (24:24a). In both cases, David makes atonement for the sins and the Lord answers his supplication for the land. The expected messiah is one who makes atonement for the sins of the people and supplication for the land. In the Gibeonites’ case, we find in David a messiah who reaches out to the folk outside the chosen ones and offers his readiness to make amends. In order to make atonement for the sin of taking a census, although Araunah left everything for the burnt offering at the disposal of David, David denies his offer and he wants to give a price, saying ‘I will buy them from you for a price.’ It clearly shows the latent attribute of the messiah, as one who makes atonement ‘paying a price.’ b. David’s kingly role as the one who is surrounded by his mighty men: The messiah is one who gathers people with valour and vigour to fight against the enemies of the people of God or the powers of darkness. “Then David’s men swore to him, ‘ You shall not go out with us to battle any longer, so that you do not quench the lamp of Israel.’” (21:17b) The messiah is the one who keeps their lamp burning. c. David’s prophetic role as the one who possesses the gift of oracle: Again David is presented as the one who has the gift of oracle, which is an important attribute of the messiah. “The spirit of the Lord speaks through

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me, his word is upon my tongue” (23:2). A prophesying David fulfils the requirement of the messiah. d. David’s cultic role as a priest who offers burnt offerings for sins: Messiah is the one who offers sacrifices for the sins of the people of God and for their well-being. “David built there an altar to the Lord, and offered burnt offerings and offerings of well-being. So the Lord answered his supplication for the land, and the plague was averted from Israel” (24:25). Again, here David with priestly role, meets the requirement of the expected messiah. Many such internal details of significance could be drawn from this part of the Davidic Episode. Not just the content of the story, but the structure as such has the sense of interiorisation. As Paniker observes, the cleverer the narrator, the more complex the inner fabric and the simpler the outer frame. The story—David handing over seven of Saul’s sons to the Gibeonites as expiation and the impaling of them and the courageous act of Rizpa, the concubine of Saul, in standing guard over the dead bodies which motivated David to act upon it—has a simple outer frame, but it contains a complex inner fabric with various theological significances. For instance, the determination of a woman changes the course of a drastic story, especially as it paves the way for the intervention of David—a character endowed with Messianic attributes. Also the phrases in this story such as, ‘seven of his sons’ (21:6a), ‘the seven of them perished together’, ‘in the first days of harvest’ (21:9), ‘from the beginning of harvest until rain fell on them’ (21:10b), etc. are clear indications of the narrator’s cleverness in interiorisation.

Serialisation and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Sam 21–24 ➢  Series of episodes to a unified, single-strand, streamlined course of events, centering around a single character (hero/heroine). ➢  Loosely organised episodes leaving room to be detached without affecting the central plot. ➢  Leaving gaps and spaces so that an episode or a counter-text or a song or dance could be inserted. ➢  It provides greater adaptability to the translators according to the taste of the new reader or audience.

Another narrative feature of the Indian literary tradition which can throw more light on 2 Samuel 21–24 in terms of its lack of chronology, lack of compositional coherence and narrative discrepancies, is serialisation. This device is marked by features such as loosely organised episodes, series of episodes from varied sources to a

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unified, single-strand, streamlined course of events, centring on a single character, space management and flexibility making the insertion of an episode or a countertext or a song or dance possible without logical connection, etc. This kind of narrative strategy can be noticeable in the compositional style of biblical narrators as well, as Alter rightly points out: “It should, however, be kept in mind that creating a collage of disparate sources was an established literary technique used by the ancient Hebrew editors and sometimes by the original writers themselves” (1999:329). To approach 2 Samuel 21–24 from this point of view will help us to find some compositional coherence in it and some significant links with the story preceding and within the same plot. First of all, the six episodes of this narrative unit are organised in such a way that it centres on a single hero, David. But there is another hero behind the curtain, i.e. God. David the hero becomes both the cause of his people’s troubles and the instrument of their cure—troubles because of his follies; cure not of his merits, but of God’s compassion. This is evident from the very structure of this section; two national calamities are placed at the beginning and at the end. Although David is the main character in these plots, God plays a major role in the course of the story. Here we see a transition from Hero David to Hero God. This climax, God becoming hero, can be noted from the first and last verses of this section: Now there was a famine in the days of David for three years, year after year; and David inquired of the LORD. The LORD said, “There is bloodguilt on Saul and on his house, because he put the Gibeonites to death.” (21:1) David built there an altar to the LORD, and offered burnt offerings and offerings of well-being. So the LORD answered his supplication for the land, and the plague was averted from Israel. (24:25)

Till now the royal palace of David was the subject matter of focalisation, but now by the end of the episode, it is being shifted to the altar of the Lord. David’s act of ‘burnt offerings’ refers to his total submission to God with all his mighty warriors and devastating weapons mentioned in the preceding hymns. Again this ending alludes to another anti-climax. The main theme of the Books of Samuel is the establishment of the kingship at the insistence of the people and all the more against the will of God. God gives a strong warning against their wish: “So, do what they ask; only, you must give them a solemn warning, and must tell them what the king who is to reign over them will do” (1 Sam 8:9). People really came to their senses about ‘what the king who is to reign over them will do’ with the kingship of Saul and finally with the kingship

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of David. The narrator of this last section (2 Sam 21–24) wants to focus on, as a conclusion to the Samuel books, what the shift of emphasis from God to King (curse and calamities) and again King to God (cure and compassion) will bring about. We could further explore the narrative motif of the narrator in organising the episodes by placing the detailed portrayal of wars and warriors, on the one hand, and the hymns full of allegory and imagery on God’s sovereignty and saving act on the other, between the stories of two calamities and their atonements. The narrator wants to focus on David, the King and the Hero who slowly comes to the realisation that his mighty warriors or servants and their exotic weapons and the battles they won are of no avail in conquering the enemies. “The Philistines went to war again with Israel, and David went down together with his servants. They fought against the Philistines, and David grew weary” (21:15). The servants of David have no hope other than their King, so they say: “ You shall not go out with us to battle any longer, so that you do not quench the lamp of Israel” (21:17). But weary David becomes fully aware of his inadequacy and deficiency and gives himself over to God. He ascribes the attributes given to him by the servants to God and sings: “Indeed, you are my lamp, O Lord, the Lord lightens my darkness” (22:29). This kind of a shift of attribute from ‘I’ (David) to ‘He’ or ‘You’ (God) is very much evident from the repeated use of personal pronouns ‘He’ or ‘You’ and the expressions showing God as warrior: ‘He sent out arrows and scattered them …’ (15a), ‘He delivered me from my strong enemy …’ (18a), ‘ You deliver a humble people …’ (28a), ‘By you I can crush a troop …’ (30a), ‘ You made my enemies turn their backs to me …’ (41a), ‘ You delivered me from strife with the peoples …’ (44a), etc. The narrator again rightly picks up some narrative pieces from the oral tradition and combines them together to show that it is not just on the merit of David that the dynasty continues, but on God. Many retroversions can be seen in the so-called last words of David to affirm this point. For example: David as ‘the anointed of the God of Jacob’ (23:1), God as ‘the God of Israel’ or ‘rock of Israel’ (3), the house of David as ‘my house like this with God’ (5a) and the covenant as ‘an everlasting covenant’ (5b). By adding the successive narrative on the warriors of David, the narrator focuses on the collective role of the dynasty which plays a major role in the continuation of it. It is not just the misdeeds of David or his predecessor Saul that decide the fate of the House of David, but it is the collective representation of the House of Israel before God. One could say that the fear of the disintegration of the dynasty haunts the narrator and it motivates him/her to pick up the tales and descriptive fragments from existing sources at random to draw a picture of the way God consolidates his people and

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maintains the succession. Such an assumption can be supported by the clues we get from the two stories of calamities and atonement. On the contrary to the preceding narrative, there one encounters a David who is quick to make amends for the sins: “What shall I do for you? How shall I make expiation, that you may bless the heritage of the Lord?” (21:3) or “I alone have sinned, and I alone have done wickedly; but these sheep, what have they done … David went up, as the Lord had commanded” (24:17a and 19b). God’s wrath against taking census speaks that it is God who sustains the people of God by ‘increasing the number of the people a hundredfold’ (24:3b) and David is nobody to stand against it. From these observations we could come to the conclusion that the stories placed loosely in series at the end of the Samuel books serve as a good conclusion or epilogue to the same book and as a bridge to the next book which speaks about the death of David and the continuation of the dynasty through Solomon.

Stylisation and Improvisation and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Sam 21–24 ➢  Stylisation is a factor that imposes limitations on the writer or story-teller, while improvisation is a liberating factor. ➢  Improvisation is a means of going beyond the limitations imposed by the code of stylisation. ➢  Maintain a balance between Stylisation and Improvisation to avoid rigidity and uncreativeness caused by total stylisation and chaos caused by total improvisation. ➢  Following certain pre-established codes keeps the expectation of the reader. ➢  By improvisation extension of meaning and insertion of additional episodes are possible. ➢  Adhering to basic narrative framework and structure, freedom to elaborate and expand. ➢  Make the narrative suit different tastes, contexts and situations.

The typical and the vivid instance of stylisation and improvisation in the Indian narrative context is the formation of the Bhagavad Gītā. The Gītā came about as a result of the stylisation of the epic, the Mahābhārata, especially the episode of the Kurukshethra War of Dhárma and upholding the existing narrative standards of stylisation. Since it has already been deliberated upon in detail in the theoretical part (Ch. 3), this passing reference will suffice to proceed on to its possible biblical counterpart. With regard to the Books of Samuel, the growth of poetic epic while

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keeping the historical chronology of existing literary tradition itself can be reckoned to be an indicator towards stylisation and improvisation. Even when earlier materials have been used for narration or redaction, there exists a novelty in historiography. Here one could clearly identify the transformation of earlier genres. The biblical narrators took their freedom in renewing and re-cycling the existing materials (improvisation), while they were aware of their limitations imposed on them by existing tradition (stylisation). Many specific examples can be pointed out, such as: David’s narrative entry unfolding in varying plots and contexts (1 Sam 16, 17), the varying versions of Saul’s death (1 Sam 31; 2 Sam 1), the adaptations of Hannah’s and David’s prayers (1 Sam 2:1–10; 2 Sam 7:18–29), the so-called miscellaneous narrative of 2 Sam 21–24, etc. Stylisation and improvisation could be better devices for explaining the narrative miscellany and discrepancy of which 2 Sam 21–24 is accused. Contrary to the conventional perception of this narrative segment that the narrative flow and pattern are invariably disrupted as against the rest of the book, this approach looks at it as an attempt in the direction of stylisation and improvisation. For instance, from the plot of bloodguilt, famine and atonement, the narration makes a deviation to the plot on the Israelites’ wars with the Philistines in the first chapter (21) itself. Then it jumps to an entirely different form of narration,1 i.e. David’s Hymns of Praise and Thanksgiving to the Lord—a poetical composition (22). This hymn of David at the peak of his political carreer immediately follows the segment on his last words, which has no chronological sequence (23:1–7). At the very first verse of ch.22 there is the indication that he sings the song not at the time of his aging and decline, but at a time all his enemies have been conquered: “David spoke to the Lord the words of this song on the day when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul.” But ch.23 begins by saying: “Now these are the last words of David: … .” Again the illustrious narration about the heroes of David (23:8–39) gives the preceding plot a new twist. At the end of this section, the narrator takes the audience to another storyline that mentions the instance of David taking census for which he faces the wrath of God, resulting in a calamity and God’s compassion through David’s expiation (24). From this narrative package, we can conclude the fact that the narrator(s) had a theological motive and s/he took advantage of the narrative flexibility to pick up the stories from the oral tradition merely in a random choice. In this choice everything related to David’s life has a role or a place, for example, an incident, a story, a hymn, a description of war, warriors and weapons, etc., although they may not have logical connections, coherence or chronology.

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Elasticisation of Time and the Narrative Miscellany of 2 Samuel 21–24 ➢  The fluidity of time adds more flexibility, elasticity and impersonality to the narrative frame. ➢  A certain a-historicity and emphasis to indefinite infinity, rather than definite dateline. ➢  Narrative time is more psychological in character than logical. ➢  The historical placement of the sequence of events is not of much significance.

Another salient narrative aspect of the Indian literary tradition which can be identified and rightly applied in the biblical narration is the elasticisation of time. “Hindu sacred history may be read in distinctive ways by incorporating notions of cyclical time and multiple universes, repeated descents of the Godhead in the form of a succession of avatars and so on, that may yet make secular and religious historiography compatible and illuminating enterprises” (Lipner 2010:302). Though there are a number of views about the nature of time, it is generally perceived as ‘an endlessly repetitive sequence of events.’ The concept of time (kāla)2 in the Indian tradition has been accused of being non-progressive and a-historical. The question here arises as to how we can explain such a-historicity or lack of definite dateline or, in other words, the fluidity or flexibility of time in the narrative. According to modern scholarship, “there are enough conceptual openings in the mythic understanding of time to give a proper historical reading to the unfolding of events” (Lipner 2010:277). One way of looking at it positively is that by placing the events out of chronological time frame, the narrator aims at giving the story a generic outlook. It means that the plots or characters find no temporal barriers and they assume a cosmic nature. This will help the narrator to organise her/his theme as s/he wishes to focalise it in a better way. An observation thereof by Fokkelman is plausible: “A good narrator will manage to transform the limits imposed by time into opportunities and advantages” (1999:35). Undoubtedly the chronological representation has been sidelined in biblical narration so as to give the narrator a free hand to put the narrative sources in a storyline. It is seen only as an occasional happening by Fokkelman: “Yet even in such an early form as Hebrew narrative art it does occasionally happen that the writer deliberately abandons this type of sequence. He has two options: looking forward, or looking back” (1999:36). This study, however, goes further to say that the flexibility in the chronological sequence is a constant and creative attempt throughout the narration.

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In 2 Samuel 21–24, David stands as a central character whose reign as King and the anointed one of Israel is marked by many events. The narrator of this passage makes a selection of these events without bearing down on the chronological sequence, but of course with clear theological motif. Many indications in this passage point to the fact that elasticisation of time is a deliberate and constant attempt of the narrator to achieve his goal, not just narrative inefficiency followed by a lack of coherence, as the conventional scholarship accuses. Words or phrases such as ‘now,’ ‘in the days of,’ ‘after this,’ ‘then,’ ‘on the day when,’ ‘again,’ ‘that day,’ etc. are used throughout the narrative to indicate time and they are of generic nature without any specification. Now there was a famine in the days of David … (21:1a) Now the Gibeonites were not of the people of Israel … (21:2b) In the first days of harvest … (21:9c) After this a battle took place with the Philistines … (21:18a) … on the day when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies … (22:1a) Now these are the last words of David … (23:1a) Now Abishai son of Zeruiah, the brother of Joab … (23:18a) Again the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel … (24:1a) That day Gad came to David and said to him … (24:18a)

Most of the above references to time are either opening verses to an episode or the verses switching on to other plots. A biblical historian may be able to locate them in the different phases of David’s life. Here the narrator is clever enough to make her/his choice and to discern the type of materials to be drawn and sorted out, having in mind the issues s/he wants to focus on, which are very much connected with the life of David as King and the national history of the people of God. The issues or the themes the narrator picks up crossing the barriers of time are: war, warriors, natural calamities, human follies, bloodguilt and atonement, heroism, David’s intercession and God’s intervention, David the poet and David the warrior-king, cult, etc. Their temporal settings are more psychological than logical. They stand outside time and are arranged in such a way that they give a reasonable account of the things which made the intervention of God (the Hero inconspicuous) inevitable in spite of a powerful King (the Hero—a conspicuous character) and of the supporting descriptions and hymns. And they also demonstrate God’s resolution to carry on the Davidic dynasty without confining it to David’s lifetime, which has tremendous implications on the political, social and religious life of Israel.

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Fantasisation in David’s Song of Thanksgiving (2 Sam 22:7–19) ➢  Allow the invisible or intangible legends or myths to play a role encouraged by imagination. ➢  The shared assumptions of the people to understand every aspect of this vast universe. ➢  The realities of the objective world are subjected to the subjectivity of the collective human imagination. ➢  A comprehensive mythical framework, where fantasy and not logic reigns supreme. ➢  The impossible things of the everyday rational world are made possible in the narrative world. ➢  A way of adjusting and accommodating even the unpleasant realities.

An attempt to approach biblical narrative with the tool of Fantasisation is not altogether in congruence with the conventional biblical scholarship. However, a narrative approach cannot dismiss its poetic significance in the making of literature. As mentioned in the above abstract, imagination and fantasy play an important role in portraying the visible and invisible realities in an approachable, tangible and comprehensible manner. In the Davidic Episode, Fantasisation is extensively used in the unfolding of plots, characters, events, and all the more, in the hymns describing the supernatural and transcendental powers. The biblical world is mostly permeated with the perceptible realities of life, but there is a world of the supernatural as well, where narration flourishes through fantasy. Realism and fantasy go hand in hand. Fantasy finds its finest expression in the ‘visionary writings’ of both the old and new Testaments, mostly in the prophetic and apocalyptic writings.3 The subject of fantasy is not just limited to the supernatural realm, but the realities of the visible world also come under its broad setting. There, events and characters are set in a wildly unrealistic plane, and imaginary creatures and surreal images occupy great narrative significance. Human imagination is endowed with the power of taking the reader to any heights of fantasy. The aspect of fantasy is intrinsic to every storytelling. Storytelling belongs to the biblical narrative too, in spite of its being considered as historiography. Neither purely neutral description of the facts and records nor solely arbitrary fantasy can make up historiography. It is the confluence of both in the narrative strand setting and plotting the contour of reality. This reality should not necessarily be historical fact always, i.e. what was and what is. In addition, the inspired human imagination is competent enough to portray the ‘becoming’ of reality: the way the world could have been, or should be, or can be. To achieve this goal the narrator resorts

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to fantasy. Human imagination can create a world where fantasy knows no limits. Theology is not averse to fantasy, since imagination forms part of the human faculty and imagination functions as a good carrier of divine inspiration and, thereby, divine revelation. Having discussed the rationale behind approaching the biblical narrative from the viewpoint of fantasy, let us see how fantasisation, the dominant aspect of ancient Indian narration, as a narrative device could give new insights into the Davidic Episode. This study spots a specimen from David’s Song of Thanksgiving (2 Sam 22:7–19) typical for such an appreciation.

A Specimen from David’s Song of Thanksgiving 2 Samuel 22:7–19 Fantasisation Paraphrased 7 In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I called. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry came to his ears. 8 Then the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations of the heavens trembled and quaked, because he was angry. 9 Smoke went up from his nostrils, and devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flamed forth from him. 10 He bowed the heavens, and came down; thick darkness was under his feet. 11 He rode on a cherub, and flew; he was seen upon the wings of the wind. 12 He made darkness around him a canopy, thick clouds, a gathering of water. 13 Out of the brightness before him coals of fire flamed forth. 14 The LORD thundered from heaven; the Most High uttered his voice. 15 He sent out arrows, and scattered them-lightning, and routed them. 16 Then the channels of the sea were seen, the foundations of the world were laid bare at the rebuke of the LORD, at the blast of the breath of his nostrils. 17 He reached from on high, he took me, he drew me out of mighty waters. 18 He delivered me from my strong enemy, from those who hated me; for they were too mighty for me. 19 They came upon me in the day of my calamity, but the LORD was my stay.

In my distress I called upon the LORD … o  the earth reeled and rocked o  the foundations of the heavens trembled and quaked o  smoke went up from his nostrils o  devouring fire from his mouth o  glowing coals flamed forth from him o  thick darkness was under his feet o  he rode on a cherub, and flew o  he was seen upon the wings of the wind o  he made darkness around him a canopy, thick clouds, a gathering of water o  coals of fire flamed forth o  the Lord thundered from heaven o  he sent out arrows o  the channels of the sea were seen o  the foundations of the world were laid bare o  the blast of the breath of his nostrils o  drew me out of mighty waters.

… the LORD was my stay.

Figure 35.  Fantasisation in David’s Song of Thanksgiving.

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As is evident from the above narrative strip, the fantastic portrayal of reality is the result of subjective human imagination—subjecting the objective world to the subjectivity of the collective human imagination. As regards the Indian narrative psyche, it not only made God in its own image, but it also conferred godhead on any object which came across its subjective experience. “All things impossible in the everyday rational world of so-called reality are made possible: elephant god, monkey god, stone god, water god, etc. are important players in all Indian narratives” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 8–9). Although one cannot attribute the same to the biblical narrative, there is a world of fantasy where the narrator tries to grasp the visible and invisible realities of the universe through the creative spirit involved in the imagination. The narrative strip given above from David’s Song of Thanksgiving clearly demonstrates this aspect of storytelling.

Fantasy and Reality The creative spirit of the character/narrator in portraying the saving activity of the Lord reaches its pinnacle by resorting to fantasisation. The drastic and terrifying changes taking place when the Lord confronts the enemies is beyond our logic and reasoning. Smoke coming up from his nostrils and devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flaming forth from him and thick darkness under his feet are in fact not what happened. Why then does the narrator/David himself present it as his subjective experience? Apparently, these pictorial images stand for the reality out there: in the life of David, in the life of the community and in the economy of salvation. When it is so presented as the arbitrary experience on the wings of fantasy, then it is an invitation to the receiver/reader to be as creative as the author. So fantasy becomes an interface that the reader’s imagination shares with that of the author. This imagination opens up before the reader a world of realities which each one can grasp according to his/her creative aptitude. Mere recording of the facts, events, emotions and experiences cannot make a creative impact on the reader or the recipient. It does not have any aesthetical or literary appeal. Reading and appreciating literature by itself is a creative activity. In that way the reader is participating in the creative activity of the Author/Narrator.

Transcendental Motif of Fantasisation When we participate in the creative activity of the narrator as we read and reread the above narration from the backdrop of fantasisation, we are invited to enter

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into the reality of the narrative context as it unfolds. David’s Song of Thanksgiving is situated in between the narratives of the exploits of David’s men and the mightiness of David’s men. They are plain accounts of the events and the people. When the narrator wants to give these plain accounts a supernatural point of view and a transcendental motif, he cannot but resort to fantasy. Only fantasy can overcome the plain realities of this world and human historical experience. In order to superimpose a transcendental motif, the character/narrator/implied author resorts to fantasy. In the case of David’s Song of Thanksgiving, David ascribes the credit for his victory to the Lord at the height of his heroic claims praising the valour and mightiness of his men. Here the Lord becomes the real hero and the victory is attributed to Him. Through this attribution a shift of focalisation is entailed in which fantasisation plays a major role. In the Song of Thanksgiving, it is fantasisation which brings the saving economy of the Lord to the physical and mundane planes. As a consequence, action, reaction, emotion and the traits of the Lord are best brought out through fantasisation. Bringing both supernatural and mundane levels together, the narrator falls back on fantasisation. On the one hand, the saving activity and presence of the Lord should be kept intact as supernal and extraordinary, and on the other hand it should be felt at the physical level. Only fantasisation can bring these two different ambiances together and keep the balance.

The Ambiance of Natural and Supernatural This concept is evident from the way the saving activity of the Lord and its consequences on nature have been portrayed. The narrator wants to portray that the saving activity of the Lord is so powerful that it is felt in the foundations of the earth and the heavens, in the flames and in the darkness, in the wind and on the water, on the canopy and the cloud, etc. Walking, breathing, seeing and even the mere presence of the Lord become the subject matter of fantasisation: By the anger of the Lord the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations of the heavens trembled and quaked; smoke went up from his nostrils; devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flamed forth from him; thick darkness was under his feet; he rode on a cherub, and flew; he was seen upon the wings of the wind; he made darkness around him a canopy, thick clouds, a gathering of water; coals of fire flamed forth; the Lord thundered from heaven; he sent out arrows; the channels of the sea were seen; the foundations of the world were laid bare; the blast of the breath of his nostrils; drew me out of mighty waters. This kind of fantasisation brings the reader down to ground reality and at the same time takes him/her up to the reality of supernatural heroism. Here heaven meets earth and the supernatural meets the requirements of

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the natural. As a result, the transcendent aspect of the Lord is safeguarded while the immanent aspect gets its share. A mere fighting between the Lord and the Philistines or any other enemies of Israel (although that is the reality) will not do justice to the transcendent aspect of the Lord or the mightiness which match none of the mighty men of David. Through fantasisation the basic elements of the earth and cosmos such as fire, darkness, wind, cloud, canopy, sea, water, breath, etc. are brought in, so that the ambiance of the supernatural is felt in the natural.

The Legitimisation of David’s Exploits David’s Song of Thanksgiving is preceded by David’s Exploits. The abovementioned transcendental motif is also superimposed on the mighty works and exploits of David and his men; thereby, they are legitimised. As the Israelites are a theo-centric community, it is very important for David to legitimise his exploits, the mighty deeds of his men and the whole paraphernalia by attributing them to the Lord. When David says, ‘the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations of the heavens trembled and quaked, because he was angry … he sent out arrows, and scattered them—lightning, and routed them,’ in a way it is David himself who is angry; it is David himself who has scattered them or routed them. A divine legitimisation is aimed at when they are attributed to the Lord and when it finds its narrative space immediately after the exploits of David’s men and followed by the show of mightiness of David’s men. In this whole narrative enterprise, fantasisation is employed as an effective tool.

A Narrative Break The fantasisation involved in David’s Song of Thanksgiving gives a narrative break to the storyline. It is typical of Indian storytelling and even now it is effectively used in Indian films. In a film, there will be at least two to three songs with dance or similar scenes which take the audience to the height of fantasy. In the midst of fantasy the storyteller introduces his/her focalisation or guides the audience to the narrative motif or sometimes to another plot. This is what happens in the case of David’s Song of Thanksgiving. The last verse of the Song speaks itself of it: “For this I will extol you, O LORD, among the nations, and sing praises to your name. He is a tower of salvation for his king, and shows steadfast love to his anointed, to David and his descendants forever” (22:50–51). A narrative break such as this leads the reader to the world of fantasy and at the peak of fantasy, the narrator/David introduces and infuses his narrative motif.

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Here David affirms his kingship, his anointment and the covenant passed on to his descendants.

Cyclicalisation and Re-Cycling of Literary Artifacts in the Davidic Episode ➢  Understanding the art of narration as an attempt to construct tales in accordance with the fluid notion of forward and backward movement. ➢  The concept of progress as cyclic, as opposed to linear. ➢  The cyclic nature of the universe presupposes the notion that all tales are recycled. ➢  A handy device to string together any number of tales in a particular narrative formula. ➢  The placement of a single story in a chain of stories. ➢  The effort to locate each story in the story of storytelling.

The ancient Indian storytellers had the mental construct of cyclical narration, observing the cyclical motion of the nature, i.e. the day following night and night following day; cyclical rotation of seasons; circular revolutions of the heavenly bodies, etc. Cyclicalisation is a common feature of Indian narration (see Chap 3). As we have already seen, it has become a handy device for stringing together any number of tales in a particular narrative formula. The Jātaka, the Pāli text of the stories of the Buddha’s former births, is exemplary in this regard. Paniker cites the following example (2003 (IN): 11):

Opening of the First Tale

Similar Opening of the Second Tale

Once upon a time, in the city of Benares in the Kasi country, there was a king named Brahmadatta. In those days, the Bodhisatta was born into a merchant’s family, and growing up in due course, used to journey about trading, with five hundred cars, travelling now from east to west and now from west to east. There was also at Benares another young merchant, a stupid blockhead, lacking resource.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was king in Benares in Kasi, the Bodhisatta was born into a trader’s family. When he was grown up, he used to travel about trading with 500 carts …

Figure 36.  Re-Cycling of Stories in Jātaka Tales.

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In the opening of the first tale a particular formula is well set and the following tales strike the same tone. This is part of the re-cycling of the tales and it suggests that a particular way of storytelling is so well-known to everybody and, therefore, the same will be re-cycled in a different way by the same storyteller or somebody else in some other plots of the same story or even in some other stories. Such a narrative device allows the reader to locate the story in the story of storytelling. The biblical narrative too indulges in such a device, which is a vast area still to be explored. Since an elaborated enquiry into it is beyond the scope of this study, it will only try to showcase some specimens from the Davidic Episode. More specifically, three instances of cyclicalisation have been identified, i.e. re-cycling of story, re-cycling of literary patterns and re-cycling of myths, proverbs, etc.

Re-Cycling of Story: The Death of Saul (1 Sam 31 § 2 Sam 1); Saul’s First Encounter with David (1 Sam 16 § 17) Let us take the death of Saul in two varying stories, one in 1 Sam 31 and the other in 2 Sam 1, as a specimen to show how cyclicalisation occurs in biblical narration. An event that happened once and forever has been re-cycled and, thereby, the stories appear in different versions which even seem to contradict each other. As a result of re-cycling, the one and only story has been re-told in two versions in order to adapt to the narrative context where the narrative motive or the point of view gives a new perspective. In this case, the fact that Saul died in the battle against the Philistines got re-cycled by the narrator/s to accommodate a point of view or narrative motive in the varying narrative contexts. According to the ancient Indian and Near East literary traditions, it not only does no harm to the story, but all the more it introduces new themes which give a new twist to the story. When Saul and his three sons who were eligible heirs to the throne died in battle according to 1 Sam 31, the kingship comes to a standstill, opening up new speculations about the future of the kingship in the house of Saul. David’s re-entry here in the context of his apostasy by defecting to the Philistines is called for. The narrator makes it a point that the re-entry of David should be with an indirect reference to Saul’s main sin,4 which costs him his kingship and life. In order to create this narrative context, the previously narrated story of Saul’s death in 1 Sam 31 has been re-cycled. The re-cycled story and related plots speak for themselves:

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Saul as Type fabricates stories to excuse sparing the King Agag of the Amalekites Ref. 1 Sam 15

David as Antitype does not spare the Amalekite Convert, rejecting his fabricated story of the death of Saul Ref. 2 Sam 1

Saul defeated the Amalekites, from Havilah as far as Shur, which is east of Egypt. He took King Agag of the Amalekites alive … Saul and the people spared Agag … (7–9) Saul finds excuses to convince Samuel about his offensive act of sparing Agag, the King of the Amalekites. Then Samuel said, “Bring Agag king of the Amalekites here to me.” … “As your sword has made women childless, so your mother shall be childless among women.” And Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the Lord in Gilgal. (32,33)

After the death of Saul, when David had returned from defeating the Amalekites, David remained two days in Ziklag. (1)

By killing Agag, the king of the Amalekites, Samuel did what Saul was supposed to do. Not acting upon the command of the Lord was Saul’s sin which cost him his kingship and life. Saul lost his kingship

The Amalekite Convert fabricates a story, saying that he killed Saul at the behest of Saul himself who was badly wounded in the battle. Then David called one of the young men and said, “Come here and strike him (the Amalekite Convert) down.” So he struck him down and he died. David said to him, “Your blood be on your head; for your own mouth has testified against you, saying, ‘I have killed the Lord’s anointed.’” (15, 16) By killing the Amalekite Convert, David is caricatured as the one who knows and acts upon the will of God. He not only kills the storyteller, but also the story itself, and thereby, he proves to be eligible for the already assured kingship and gains it. David gained the kingship

Figure 37.  Re-Cycling of Stories in Davidic Episode.

Re-Cycling of Literary Patterns: Saul Pursuing David (1 Sam 24 § 1 Sam 26) There are certain peculiar narrative or storytelling patterns in every literary tradition. Those narrative patterns play an important role in setting the scene and the stories are mostly modelled after them. They are re-cycled repeatedly, which helps the reader familiarise himself/herself with the category, style and mood of the concerned literary work. Such narrative patterns find their place by and large at the beginning of a story, at the entry of a new character, at the description of a somewhat similar event, place or time, etc. Here is one example where two different stories of Saul pursuing David open with a similar pattern:

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1 Sam 24

1 Sam 26

§ Saul was told, “David is in the wilderness of En-gedi.” (v.1)

§ Saul was told, “David is in hiding on the hill of Hachilah, which is opposite Jeshimon.” (v.1)

§ Then Saul took three thousand chosen men out of all Israel, and went to look for David and his men in the direction of the Rocks of the Wild Goats. (v.2)

§ So Saul rose and went down to the Wilderness of Ziph, with three thousand men of Israel, to seek David in the Wilderness of Ziph. (v.2)

§ He came to the sheepfolds beside the road, where there was a cave; and Saul went in to relieve himself. Now David and his men were sitting in the innermost parts of the cave. (v.3)

§ Saul encamped on the hill of Hachilah, which is opposite Jeshimon beside the road. But David remained in the wilderness (v.3)

Figure 38.  Re-Cycling of Literary Patterns in Davidic Episode.

The above illustration shows how one particular narrative pattern is re-cycled so as to tell similar stories. In both stories Saul pursues David intending to kill him. Here we see the placement of a single story in a chain of stories and also it is a handy device to string together any number of tales in a particular narrative formula. Moreover, one could locate each story in the story of storytelling.

Re-Cycling of Myths, Proverbs, Etc.: “Is Saul Also among the Prophets?” (1 Sam 10 § 1 Sam 19) Myths, proverbs, sayings, symbols, metaphors, etc. are as well susceptible to cyclicalisation. One such occurence of a proverb in the Davidic Episode is, ‘is Saul also among the prophets?’ (1 Sam 10:12b; 19:24b). 1 Sam 10

1 Sam 19

§ When they were going from there to Gibeah, a band of prophets met Saul; and the spirit of God possessed him, and he fell into a prophetic frenzy along with them. (v.10)

§ Saul went there, toward Naioth in Ramah; and the spirit of God came upon him. As he was going, he fell into a prophetic frenzy, until he came to Naioth in Ramah. (v.23)

§ When all who knew him before saw how he prophesied with the prophets, the people said to one another, “What has come over the son of Kish? Is Saul also among the prophets?” (v.11)

§ He too stripped off his clothes, and he too fell into a frenzy before Samuel. He lay naked all that day and all that night. Therefore it is said, “is Saul also among the prophets?” (v.24)

§ A man of the place answered, “And who is their father?” Therefore it became a proverb, “is Saul also among the prophets?” (v.12)

Figure 39.  Re-Cycling of Myths, Proverbs, etc. in Davidic Episode.

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Though both plots share the same proverb, their contexts are different. One is in the context of Saul’s anointing by Samuel (10) and the other in the context of Saul chasing David with the intention of killing him (19). On both occasions Saul falls into a prophetic frenzy and starts prophesying. This made the people say, ‘is Saul also among the prophets?’ The re-cycling in this case takes place in contexts of extreme contrast. Ch.10 places the proverb at the beginning of Saul’s ascent (selection) to kingship and, on the other hand, ch.19 at the beginning of Saul’s descent (rejection) from kingship. The reasons leading Saul to a situation of being among the prophets, being possessed with the spirit of God and prophesying, differ in all respects. It clearly shows that the same myths, proverbs, sayings, symbols metaphors, etc. can be part of the phenomenon of cyclicalisation in contexts of extreme contrasts.

Allegorisation in Various Narrative Contexts of the Davidic Episode ➢  Substituting an abstraction for something concrete in order to achieve a broader effect or relevance. ➢  The use of the frame story and the practice of emboxing stories. ➢  Anthropomorphism with regard to the inanimate and non-human creatures to present effectively the moral ideas. ➢  The element of soft satire.

Allegorisation is a predominant feature of the ancient Indian literary tradition, and one which gave the Indian art of storytelling a universal appeal. In this regard, the Pañchatantra5 outmatches all other literature and it opens up a world of allegories. The Biblical world is not totally averse to allegorisation. Some books in their entirety are considered to be allegorical, as late Pope John Paul II, in his review of the books of the Old Testament, observes: “The Books of Tobit, Judith and Esther, although dealing with the history of the Chosen People, have the character of allegorical and moral narrative rather than history properly so called.”6 In the Davidic Episode allegorisation is not so conspicuous; however, some references are notable. The narrator makes use of its narrative scope to get his/her point of view across. In such an attempt, allegorisation finds its expression in different narrative contexts, some of which are picked up for the consideration of this study.

Allegorisation in Order to Impart Moral Precepts and Practices: The Story about a Rich Man and a Lamb by Nathan (2 Sam 12:1–14) Allegorisation has the narrative dynamic to impart moral precepts and practices easily and effectively. That is the reason behind the stories of the Pañchatantra

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getting wider acceptance than any other single Indian religious book. When people from everyday life, animals, birds, anthropomorphic and other-worldly creatures, etc. actively act out the roles of a story through which a moral message is conveyed, then it leaves a lasting impression on the reader or it moves his/her heart to change for the better. This dynamism of allegorisation gave the ancient seers, sages, saints, gurus and prophets a free hand to teach and proclaim moral ideas. In the biblical narrative there are many such expressions and stories where moral ideas were re-presented through allegorisation. The story about a rich man and a lamb by Nathan (2 Sam 12:1–14) shows how allegorisation fits into the overall narrative setting.

Substituting an abstraction …

for something concrete … Storyteller

Story-listener

in order to communicate a moral situation.

David

Nathan, the Prophet David, the King

David, the King

the transgressor

David’s courtiers and concubines

the reality

Uriah the Hittite

the victim

David’s passion for Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah

the reason for the transgression

Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah

a passive object

Nathan

The Moral Guru

David

The Moral Offender

Nathan

Characters: the rich man his folks and herds

the poor man a traveller to the rich man

the poor man’s lamb Storyteller turned Moral sender Story-listener turned Moral Subject

Figure 40.  Allegorisation in Order to Impart Moral Precepts and Practices.

The above graphic gives a general picture of how allegorisation works as a handy tool in the hands of a narrator. Here not only the characters go through the transition, but also the reader, who identifies with the characters.

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Allegorisation in Order to Change the Course of Affairs: The Story of the Woman of Tekoa (2 Sam 14:1–24) “In order to change the course of affairs your servant Joab did this. But my lord has wisdom like the wisdom of the angel of God to know all things that are on the earth” (2 Sam 14:20). This is the answer given by the woman of Tekoa when David knew that she was pretending at the behest of Joab, son of Zeruiah. She narrates a story to David the King with allegorical allusions to the matter of bringing the rebellious Absalom back to the palace. The story with the allegorical allusions is intended to bring about a shift in the course of affairs, i.e. bringing back Absalom, which is considered to be otherwise something impossible. Allegorisation in narrative is an effective device to effect a shift in the normal progressive storyline. David has no other option than to be the active agent of this shift: “Then the king said to Joab, ‘Very well, I grant this; go bring back the young man Absalom’” (v.21). The allegorical figure of the widow in abstraction becomes something concrete in the life of David and thus allegorisation initiates a change in the course of affairs.

Allegorisation in Order to Describe the Virtual Realities: Allegorical Expressions in David’s Song of Thanksgiving (2 Sam 22) In order to describe the virtual realities such as strength, mightiness, anger, protection, salvation, deliverance, hope, love, comfort, consolation, righteousness, etc., allegorisation is extensively used by the biblical narrator/s. They are mostly mere expressions, rather than stories unfolding in and through one or more plots and characters. David’s Song of Thanksgiving (2 Sam 22) contains many such expressions which describe the saving act of the Lord that David experienced in his life. The virtual realities belonging exclusively to the personal experience can find their concrete expression by way of allegorisation. The Actual Narrative 1 David spoke to the LORD the words of this song on the day when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul. 2 He said: The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, 3 my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge, my savior; you save me from violence. 4 I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies. 5 For the waves of death encompassed me, the torrents of perdition assailed me; 6 the cords of Sheol entangled me, the snares of death confronted me.

The Virtual Reality Rock, fortress, shield, and the horn are allegorical substitutes for virtual realities such as strength, protection, mightiness, salvation, refuge, etc. The waves, the torrents, the cords and the snares are allegorical substitutes for the intensity of fear, fall, destruction, defeat, devastation, etc.

Figure 41.  Allegorisation in Order to Describe Virtual Realities.

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Allegorisation in Order to Evoke Narrative Retrospection: Saul Spares the Amalekite King Agag against the Will of the Lord (1 Sam 15) and the Story of Saul’s Death by an Amalekite (2 Sam 1) The Amalekite convert in the story of Saul’s death according to 2 Sam 1 could be allegorical in nature, for another, preceding story of the same event, without the Amalekite, already exists (1 Sam 31). Moreover, there is repeated emphasis on the identity of the man who killed Saul at his request in the form of question-answer: And he said to me, ‘Who are you?’ I answered him, ‘I am an Amalekite’ (v.8). David said to the young man who had reported to him, “Where do you come from?” He answered, “I am the son of a resident alien, an Amalekite” (v.13).

Even the plot starts with the mention of the Amalekites: After the death of Saul, when David had returned from defeating the Amalekites … (v.1).

These repeated mentions of Amalekite call for a narrative retrospection. Saul’s tragic death and his loss of kingship have already been prophesised by Samuel as a necessary consequence of Saul’s sin of sparing the King Agag of the Amalekites: He took King Agag of the Amalekites alive, but utterly destroyed all the people with the edge of the sword. Saul and the people spared Agag … (v.9). And the LORD sent you on a mission, and said, ‘Go, utterly destroy the sinners, the Amalekites, and fight against them until they are consumed.’ Why then did you not obey the voice of the LORD? Why did you swoop down on the spoil, and do what was evil in the sight of the LORD?” (vv.18, 19). And Samuel said to him, “The LORD has torn the kingdom of Israel from you this very day, and has given it to a neighbor of yours, who is better than you (v.28). But Samuel said, “As your sword has made women childless, so your mother shall be childless among women.” And Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the LORD in Gilgal (v.33).

While Samuel in lieu of Saul hewed Agag, the king of the Amalekites, in pieces, a resident alien Amalekite killed Saul. In a way, ‘the resident alien Amalekite’ appears as an allegorical figure. By introducing such a figure, the narrator invites the reader to a narrative retrospection of the repercussion of Saul’s transgression in sparing the King and the spoils of the Amalekites. How this retrospection is related to Samuel, Saul, David and the Israelites can be mapped as below:

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Saul spares the Amalekite King Agag. The empirical allusion to the Amalekites …

“And the Lord sent you on a mission, and said, ‘Go, utterly destroy the sinners, the Amalekites, and fight against them until they are consumed.’ Why then did you not obey the voice of the Lord? …” (1 Sam 15:18, 19a) Samuel hewed the Amalekite King Agag in pieces.

The soteriological allusion to the Amalekites …

“Thus says the Lord of hosts, ‘I will punish the Amalekites for what they did in opposing the Israelites when they came up out of Egypt …’” (1 Sam 15:2) David ordered to strike the resident alien Amalekite down.

The allegorical allusion to the Amalekite

“David said to him, ‘Your blood be on your head; for your own mouth has testified against you, saying, ‘I have killed the Lord’s anointed.’” (2 Sam 1:16)

Figure 42.  Allegorisation in Order to Evoke Narrative Retrospection.

As the above map shows, the character of the alien resident assumes broader effect and relevance through allegorisation in the general setting of the story, both in the retrospective and prospective sense. Moreover, this kind of allegorical retrospection places David in a safer, stronger and acceptable position. Although he conquered the Amalekites (2 Sam 1:1), he does not find great delight in their spoils; although he hears the story of a resident alien Amalekite (2 Sam 1:2–16), he does not spare him; although Saul’s death brings him the kingship, he does not show great delight in the killing of him by the Amalekite (2 Sam 1:11, 12). Here David emerges as the one who does not fall into the trap of the Amalekite/s, the sinners and the enemies of the Israelites, as happened to Saul. Thus, the narrator succeeds in placing David in the limelight as the anointed one, the one who knows the will of God against the sinners and enemies of Israel. The success lies in the allegorisaton of the ‘Amalekite-episode’ cutting through the past, present and future.

Suggestive Allegorisation in Order to Lay Out the Confluence of Paradoxes Another deeper and implied meaning can be attributed to the story of the rich man and the lamb by Nathan (2 Sam 12:1–14). This study prefers to call it suggestive allegorisation (dhvanyātmaka rūpakam) and, thereby, it means that the allegorical story as a whole transcends the mere denotative sense and takes the

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reader to the suggestive sense. The meaning at the first layer does not exhaust the deeper suggestive meaning. In this case of the David-Bathsheba episode, allegorisation is meant to bring about the confluence of paradoxes involved in the role of David and in the question of succession to his throne: paradoxes such as sin and salvation, war and love, moral offender and messiah, curse and blessing, life and death, etc. The protagonist David stands in the midst of all these paradoxes and for the same reason he is a complex character who is not easily apprehended. Therefore, the narrator makes use of suggestive allegorisation to unfold this character and the mysteries enshrouding him and the Davidic Succession. The complex realities enshrouded in the allegorical story and the related semantics can be mapped as given below (vide infra). It is an attempt to show how those complex realities are unfolded in the framework of an allegorical story, mainly, how the paradoxical points of view incite and interact with each other in the narrative trajectory. By such an approach this study intends to avoid making moral judgement upon David regarding the Bathsheba-affair and the consequences thereof. Jumping to the conclusions that either David’s affair was sheer adultery, which totally reverses his attributes and roles as the anointed one, or the whole episode is something divinely intended to keep up his messianic demands, would be reading too much into the text and would not do justice to it. Therefore, this study only proposes the possibilities of allegorisation at the suggestive level by presenting the paradoxical phenomenon permeating the whole story. To show the horizon of such a different perspective, a narrative chart is laid out below.

Characters of the story known through their roles or actions o  the poor man who suffers from the loss of his lamb o  the poor man’s sole lamb made food to the rich man’s banquet o  the rich man who prepares big banquet with the snatched lamb o  the traveller who comes to the rich man

Context of the story in the spatio-temporal realm o  a city where both a rich man and a poor man live o  the poor man’s life with the sole ewe lamb o  the rich man’s life with very many flocks and herds o  the rich man’s banquet for the traveller

Goal-state of the characters in their actantial role o  the poor man’s loss o  the rich man’s gain o  the lamb’s sacrificial consummation o  the traveller’s gratification

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Nathan’s Revelation: “You are the Man!” David and his actions enshrouded by suggestive allegorisation: o  You are the man to whom travellers come and go. o  You are the man from whom the banquet was demanded. o  You are the man who is rich in flock and herd. o  You are the man who found favour of poor man’s ewe lamb. o  You are the man who prepared the banquet with the ewe lamb. o  You are the man who quelled the traveller’s hunger. o  You are the man who must restore the lamb fourfold. o  You are the man who deserves to die. Suggestive allegorisation pointing to the paradoxical realities: sin war moral offender curse death

salvation love messiah blessing life

In the spring of the year, all Israel go In the spring of the year, David remains at Jeruout to battle. salem longing for love. David commits adultery with David inquires (about the woman) and finds the Bathsheba. right woman to bear his child who will be the right person to uphold the Davidic Dynasty. David covers up the illegal affair and has Uriah killed. “… sword shall never depart from your house, for you have despised me …”

Bathsheba-affair and the following events a banquet to Davidic Dynasty. “Now the Lord has put away your sin; you shall not die.”

“The Lord struck the child that “… she (Bathsheba) bore a son, and he (David) Uriah’s wife bore to David … On named him Solomon. The Lord loved him.” the seventh day the child died.” The child born to David in The child born to David (Solomon) in Bathsheba Bathsheba (Uriah’s wife) dies. (David’s wife) lives. Figure 43.  Suggestive Allegorisation and the Confluence of Paradoxes.

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Anonymisation and the Apaurus. eya Nature of the Davidic Episode ➢  A kind of anonymity of the storytellers. ➢  Attribute the authorship of a work to fictitious names. ➢  Objective is to merge the subjective self of the narrator in the collective readership. ➢  Language as an instrument of collective expression. ➢  A great impact on narration and transmission. ➢  A definitive edition of a narrative or identifying a name or a date or a location is not at all a matter of importance. ➢  Allows tremendous flexibility to produce one’s own version and fancy one’s own authorial privilege.

As per the ancient Indian literary outlook, “no author is just an individual, especially when he uses language which is an instrument of collective expression” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 13). This is best expressed in the concept of ‘apauruṣeya’ which means impersonal or collective or universal. The literary trait of apauruṣeya led the ancient Indian authors to maintain a certain anonymity. In this regard, Paniker makes some broad references to certain Indian works: Not only Mahābhārata, but the 18 long Purāṇas, Adhyatma Rāmāyaṇa, and several other works, perhaps even the Vedas, are supposed to have been composed by Védavyāsa, who is oftentimes an internalised character in the stories as well. This may be seen merely as a metaphor of anonymity so that the reader is free to amend or expand or delete what he is reading. (2003 (IN): 13–14)

The popularity these works enjoyed and the cultural and religious influence they still hold show that identifying their exact authorship and origin (date and place) add little to the real quality of the work. The biblical narrative, too, shares this common literary trait of apauruṣeya of oriental nature. Such an apauruṣeya nature or anonymisation can be attributed to the Books of Samuel as well. “In the Babylonian Talmud (b.B.Bat.14b, ca. sixth century CE) the prophet Samuel is identified as the author of those parts of the book that treat events before his death, with the rest being attributed to the prophets Nathan and Gad based on 1 Chr 29:29. Modern scholars consider 1 and 2 Samuel to have been written by several anonymous authors, and generally view it as part of a large composition called the Deuteronomistic History.” (Coogan 2010:399)

There are different theories enquiring into the historical reasons of anonymity. This study, however, tries to look at the anonymity of the authorship in a narrative

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perspective, rather than historical. When we follow such a perspective, the anonymity can no more be seen as defect and deficiency, but rather effect and efficiency. Then anonymity can be admired as a narrative device of anonymisation. Some points for such admiration can be summed up as below.

To Facilitate the Narrative Interventions and Interactions of the Omniscient Narrator—Interprets the Past, Describes the Present and Foresees the Future An omniscient narrator who is obscured throughout the plots frequently intervenes in the storyline and interacts with the reader as the context demands. S/he is the connecting link between the characters and the reader, and s/he interprets the situations and facts in space and time according to the need and occasion. In the post-modern narratological deliberations such narrators have been characterised as intrusive narrators.7 In order to facilitate their interventions and interactions along the storyline, it is better for them to be anonymous. The omniscient narrator being anonymous can have meaningful narrative interferences without any prejudices and that will bring the text more credibility. The point of view and occasional annotations of the anonymous narrator could possibly be prejudiced by his/her lineage, social status or personal traits. This can be avoided by the anonymity of the narrator. Throughout the Davidic Episode, one can experience the presence of an omniscient narrator. However, the reader is left with no idea of the personal identity of the narrator. Some examples will show how the omniscient narrator being anonymous becomes part of the storyline. When the narration progresses, paving the way for the narrative entry of Samuel, Eli and his offspring slowly move into the background (1 Sam 2). Here the omniscient narrator interjects and interprets the situation, so that the reader can mentally and logically prepare for the shift. Thus, we read: “Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the Lord or for the duties of the priests to the people” (1 Sam 2:12, 13a). Then the story again continues narrating the wicked deeds of the sons of Eli followed by the accounts of the childhood of Samuel with Eli. Again the omniscient narrator prepares the reader for something new with regard to the vision of child Samuel to come: “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread” (1 Sam 3:1b). By this narrative intervention, the omniscient narrator sets the vision of Samuel which is about to come in the proper historical context for the reader. Another occasion where the intervention of the omniscient narrator is evident would be when Samuel could not identify the vision: “Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him” (1 Sam 3:7). In order to justify the inability of Samuel to recognise the vision of

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the Lord, the omniscient narrator intervenes. Let us take another example showing the obvious presence of the omniscient narrator: “And Michal the daughter of Saul had no child to the day of her death” (2 Sam 6:23). A narrator, who knows the past, present and future of any character or any event, construes the conduct of Michal’s laughing at the dancing David. Her barrenness has been adjudged to be the consequence of her contemptuous behaviour, i.e. looking at David dancing before the Ark of the Lord as something vulgar and thus despising him. The above examples are just a few among the array of such instances. They show that anonymity could shed the prejudice, preconditioning and physical impediments from the narrator, and give him freedom to move in the narrative trajectory of omniscience.

To Consolidate the Disparate Sources, Collective or Individual— Anonymous Narrative Sources and Anonymous Author Anonymisation is a handy device to consolidate the disparate narrative sources of anonymity and to lay out a storyline. When the author/s stay(s) anonymous, then there is the narrative freedom to incorporate disparate sources as characters or themes in the storyline. Here there is anonymisation on both fronts: on the one hand, the anonymous sources, and on the other hand, the anonymous author/s. Anonymisation in such a case is taken to mean that even those characters or themes that appear to be insignificant, have considerable influence in the progression of the storyline. Those disparate narrative sources make their appearance in the story on different occasions as characters major or minor, round or flat,8 collective or individual, and sometimes even as mere sayings of anonymous sources. They represent some sources emblematically or empirically. To be precise, they are the carriers of narrative dynamism in folk tradition although they seem to be minor characters or secondary themes, or are not specifically named. In the Davidic Episode we come across many such anonymous sources appearing in the story which change the course of affairs positively or negatively. For example, – – – – – – – –

the elders of Israel … (1 Sam 4:3) the Philistines … (1 Sam 4:8) the messenger sources … (1 Sam 4:16,17; 2 Sam 1) the mediums and wizards sources (1 Sam 28) the prophetic sources (Samuel, Nathan, etc.) the sayings and proverbs of anonymity (1 Sam 10:11,12; 19:24) the servants (9) the wise women (14)

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All the above-mentioned sources have contributed much to the story, but at the same time their identity is only partially revealed or they are conspicuous by their anonymity. The elders of Israel, for instance, play an important role in bringing the Ark of God to the warfront which led to the capturing of it by the Philistines and the consequent events. The ‘elders of Israel’ stay as a collective narrative source although their individual identities remain anonymous. In such cases only an anonymous author or narrator can rightly represent all those disparate narrative sources in the formation of a story. Anonymisation in this perspective is a narrative phenomenon as well as a narrative device.

To Merge the Subjective Self of the Narrator in the Collective Readership—No Author Is Just an Individual and Language Is an Instrument of Collective Expression The narrator and the audience/reader/appreciator share a common narrative platform, and hence a narrative work is re-production, re-presentation and re-cycling of the matter derived from that common paradigm. Thereby, the subjective self of the narrator/s is merged in the collective readership, and, therefore, the identity of the narrator/s is of less importance and they stay mostly anonymous. Paniker substantiates this point with some references to the ancient Indian literary tradition: The point behind attributing the authorship of a work to fictitious names, like Brahmā the Creator, Vālmīki the anthill-born, or Vyāsa the diameter or extension, which are loaded with infinite associations, is that no author is just an individual, especially when he uses language which is an instrument of collective expression. (2003 (IN): 13)

In the case of biblical narrative, when those concerned books are called the Books of Samuel, it does not mean that they are written exclusively by the prophet Samuel. Samuel is in fact a collective paradigm where the subjective self of the individual narrator/s or author/s merges with that of the collective readership. To keep this narrative ideal intact, the author/narrator cannot but be anonymous. Thus, Samuel becomes an authorial designation, rather than an individual author. In this whole narrative phenomenon, the subjective self of the individual author/s becomes merged in the collective readership. The clear indications in this regard can be seen throughout the Books of Samuel. Among those indications, two of them are notable: the Books of Samuel continue even after the death of the prophet Samuel and the narration of the raising of the soul of Samuel from Sheol in a book considered to be written by Samuel. The people and the authors of biblical time did not find it incompatible or inappropriate to designate those books after Samuel, because both the narrators

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and the readers find their self or identity in the collective paradigm of Samuel. Therefore, it is comfortable and compatible for both of them to remain anonymous and merge in the common narrative ethos.

To Attribute Impersonal, Universal and Collective Nature to Narrative—A Work of Art Transcends the Temporal and Spatial Limitations A work of art lives in eternity and it transcends the temporal and spatial limitations in which the identity of the author or the date or place of origin adds little to the real quality of the work. Thus, anonymisation was considered to be a sapient narrative device to attribute to a work of art an impersonal, universal and collective nature. This motif has governed almost all ancient Indian narratives whose origins are lost in antiquity. The biblical narrative, too, aspires to the certain condition of anonymity whereby an impersonal, universal and collective nature could be attributed to it. As the Books of Samuel are considered to be part of a larger Deuteronomistic History, the narrative already acquires a collective nature, and it further aspires for impersonality and universality in the hands of several anonymous narrators/authors. Those narrators keep the pace of their predecessors; although they cast their subjective contribution in the narrative, it is elevated to an impersonal (apauruṣeya) level. For example, the narratives such as the prayers of Hannah and David, the Ark Narrative, the Succession Narrative, the battle narratives, oracle of the prophets, the tidings of the messengers, etc. are very much impersonal, having no authorial subjectivity. Although those narratives are unfolded in the spatial and temporal realm, they have a universal appeal and they are not bound to any such authorial limitations of space and time. That is why many of the prayers, songs, oracles, proverbs, sayings, etc. have later on in the subsequent narratives either been re-cycled or re-presented as psalms or as other forms of narration. The narrative impact of anonymisation is also evident in the formation of characters and plots. Whether it is Eli, Samuel, Saul or David, they are portrayed in an impersonal manner, showing both their bright and dark sides. It is the anonymity of the author/s which gives the freedom to narrate without any inhibitions. As a result, the themes, the characters and the plots get a universal and an impersonal appeal and narration as a whole aspires to be collective.

To Leave Room for Internalised Characters to Be Authors—The Transposition of Characters and Authors/Narrators The internalised characters in the story being the authors or the narrators of the same story is a common feature of ancient Indian narrative. Védavyāsa, who is

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considered to be the author of the Mahābhārata and the Purāṇas, is an internalised character of the same story. There are many other instances where the story progresses with the narrator becoming the character and as well the character taking on the baton of the narrator. Such transpositions and role-shifts can easily take place only in the narrative dynamism of anonymisation. It is a common feature of biblical narrative as well. In the narrative orbit of anonymisation, Samuel and Nathan, for example, could shift their roles between characters and narrators. As has already been mentioned, several characters such as messengers, soldiers, concubines, peasants, etc. could be assumed to be part of the authorial enterprise in spite of their authorial identity remaining incognito. Whether the author Samuel is different from the prophet Samuel is a matter for further research.

To Facilitate the Organic Growth of the Urtext—The Text Grows in Its Full Dimension through Various Spatio-Temporal Contexts in the Hands of Commentators (Vyakhyata Vetti or Jañti) To perpetuate and facilitate the organic growth of the Urtext, anonymisation comes in as a handy tool. In the ancient Indian context, a definitive edition of a text is only a myth. A text grows as it encounters different readers, cultures, epochs and, moreover, critics. “This flexibility of narrative details ensures the anonymity of the author” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 14). When anonymity is taken to be an ideal, personal versions enjoy the authorial privilege of the community. Such a privilege preserves the text from corruption, and maintains and sustains the integrity and authenticity of the narrative content. In this narrative design, there is tremendous freedom for expansion, addition and improvisation. Thus, there are different versions of the same texts and same stories of ancient Indian origin and they enjoy the favour of the concerned community and find acceptance. With regard to the Books of Samuel, one can rightly attribute the features of the same organic growth, sometimes clear and sometimes opaque. Various anonymous authors/narrators contribute to their growth notwithstanding their varying perspectives and approaches in dealing with the same event or character. As a result we come across different versions of the same event or a different way of introducing a theme or a character. Two examples may suffice to show the extent of this aspect. There are three versions of David being introduced to the scene— first, as sheep-keeper of his father Jesse (1 Sam 16:11–13); secondly, as lyre-player for Saul, the King (1 Sam 16:14–23); thirdly, as a challenger to Goliath, the Philistine (1 Sam 17). Every time David is introduced one or the other of his traits is highlighted. As a sheep-keeper of his father Jesse, he is introduced as a dedicated

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son and a hardworking young man, and his physical appearance is clearly portrayed: “Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome” (v.12a). Then we see a different David playing lyre at the court of Saul. There his skills and inner qualities are brought into the spotlight: “… skilful in playing, a man of valour, a warrior, prudent in speech, and a man of good presence …” (v.18). Again, David is re-introduced as one who dares to challenge the giant Goliath, the Philistine, and who is determined and with heroic courage. The authors of all these three different portrayals of David may vary, but their anonymity brings them all in one tree where they look like branches of natural growth. Another such growth can be attributed to the narration of David’s anointment. First, Samuel anoints him: “Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers …” (1 Sam 16:13a). Then the people of Judah anoint him: “Then the people of Judah came, there they anointed David king over the house of Judah.” (2 Sam 2:4a). Again the elders of Israel anoint him: “So all the elders of Israel came to the king at Hebron; and King David made a covenant with them at Hebron before the Lord, and they anointed David king over Israel.” (2 Sam 5:3). Though the implications of all these anointments vary, they can be seen as the organic growth of the text in the hands of various anonymous authors.

Spatialisation and the Spatial Precedence in the Davidic Episode ➢  Spatial precedence to temporal one—Specific on place, but imprecise on time. ➢  The narrator is free of the constraints on time and, therefore, can concentrate more on spatial movements as an indicator of shifts in location. ➢  Concentrating more on spatial movements, the scene becomes more crucial in the unfolding of the plot than time. ➢  The events progress not along a rigid straight line, which therefore, allows discontinuities in action.

The spatial concept of reality dominates not only ancient Indian literature, but also all other disciplines of life, i.e. art, architecture, spirituality, politics, etc. The Hindu notion of sacred space is well known, and, moreover, the polycentric conception of sacred space has influenced tremendously the religious ethos of India. Thus the same place, river, tree or forest can be present in many places and the same sacredness or religious value is added to them. “The same power is at work in all the centres, radiating from one and the same source, and manifesting interactively … This is why the same name—Kāshī—is given to the other places of this polycentric network, for the same power is at work in each of them” (Lipner 2010:304). In

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addition to the polycentric conception of space, Lipner points out the interrelation of secular and sacred space and time in Hinduism: Early Vedic religion did not make use of temples. The place where the sacrificial ritual (yajña) was performed became (temporarily) sacred, and was sometimes referred to as the nābhi or navel—the axial point—of the world. The time during which the yajña was performed became sacred time, opening the door to immortality. (2010:306)

In this respect, time and space contribute mutually, however, the reference to time is mostly mythical, and, on the other hand, space is more empirical. From the Narratological point of view, mythical time is imprecise, though it has religious significance and implications. When the plots are laid out in the mythical time-map, the narrator can move freely in the temporal framework of narrative trajectory. In the case of space it should be precise, portraying the real picture of a character or an event. As a result, in narration, more importance is attached to the spatial aspect than the temporal. The Biblical narration shares most of the above features of the Indian narrative paradigm. However, difference is apparent only in the way the spatial and temporal aspects integrate themselves in the narrative pattern. Before going into the details, let us see a specimen showing how the spatial aspect is given precedence in both literary traditions by presenting the following comparative profile between two texts, one of the Pañchatantra tales and Kathasaritsagara, and the other of the Books of Samuel. Indian Example

Biblical Example

The Beginning of the First of the Pañchatantra tales: “Once upon a time, in the southern land flourished the fair city of Mahilarophy, rivalling in splendour even Amaravati, City of the Gods.” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 15)

The Opening of Samuel Books: “There was a certain man of Ramathaim, a Zuphite from the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah son of Elihu son of Tohu son of Zuph, an Ephraimite.” (1 Sam 1)

Pañchatantra, The Weaver and Princess Charming: “In the eastern region known as Gaūḍa, there was a flourishing city called White Lotuses, where lived two friends, a weaver and a chariot-maker …” (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 619)

The Introduction of Saul: “There was a man of Benjamin whose name was Kish son of Abiel son of Zeror son of Becorath son of Aphiah, a Benjaminite, a man of wealth. He had a son whose name was Saul … (1 Sam 9:1,2a)

Kathasaritsagara, The Story of Devasmitā: “Upon this earth a famous city stands called Tāṃraliptā; once a merchant dwelt within the town, possessed of endless wealth, named Dhanadatta …” (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 661)

The Story of David and Goliath: “Now the Philistines gathered their armies for battle; they were gathered at Socoh, which belongs to Judah, and encamped between Socoh and Azekah, in Ephes-dammim …” (1 Sam 17:1)

Figure 44.  Spatial Precedence in the Books of Samuel.

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The above illustration gives a clear picture of the spatial aspect overarching both the narrative paradigms. Being established thus, let us see some of its implications in particular.

Mutuality of Space and Time Space and time go together, mutually moulding and making. As Lipner mentioned, sometimes even the importance of space is attached to time: for example, one place becomes sacred because a particular yajña is performed there at a particular time. But then, time merges in the ocean of the infinite time and withers away, for time is considered as an infinitely repetitive sequence of events. On the other hand, space gets momentum where events, plots and characters unfold themselves and the spatial reference is more precise and particular, as displayed in the above illustration. “The Indian narrative can therefore be said to be a spatial one … Discontinuities in action are tolerated because of a less rigid notion of time and progress in the course of events along a rigid straight line” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 16). This kind of a mutuality of space and time helps the narrator to have a free handling of the narration. In the Bible, time in the conceptual level is highly precise, but, in the narrative level, imprecise. In narrative, space gets precedence over time. Temporal references are vague in details such as ‘now,’ ‘when,’ ‘now when,’ ‘on the day when,’ ‘in those days,’ ‘about a month later,’ ‘after this or that,’ ‘the time that,’ ‘just then,’ ‘some time afterward,’ ‘in the spring of the year,’ ‘some time passed,’ etc. When it comes to space, biblical narrative is extremely prolific in detail. The opening verse of the Samuel Books speaks for itself. “There was a certain man Ramathaim, a Zuphite from the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah son of Jeroham son of Elihu son of Tohu son of Zuph, an Ephraimite” (1 Sam 1:1). All these details are related to the region, race and family, which give spatial specifications. On the other hand, the immediate reference to time is obviously vague and too generic: “Now this man used to go up year by year from his town to worship and to sacrifice to the Lord of hosts at Shiloh, where the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, were priests of the Lord. On the day when Elkanah sacrificed, he would give portions to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters” (1 Sam 1:3, 4). ‘Now,’ ‘year by year’ and ‘on the day when’ are only generic mention of time, and in fact, no specific mention of time can be found. It shows that, though there are many concepts pointing to the mention of specific time which governs the universe, human life and salvific economy in the Bible, the management of the temporal aspect in narration is not as precise as is demanded by the setting of the plot. In spite of the fact that it appears in contrast to the spatial aspect which goes into every detail necessary in the unfolding of the plot, it is in reality complementary. “Since the narrator is not worried too much by the constraints on time, he can

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concentrate on spatial movements as an indicator of shifts in location” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 16). In conclusion, the mutuality of spatial and temporal aspects as we encounter in the biblical narration is complementary.

Polycentric Perception of Space Polycentric perception of space, as mentioned above, is something innate to the Indian religious ethos, and takes various forms of expression in the literature as well. As it is beyond the scope of this study to go into the details of this vast topic, it is only possible to go into some of its implications in the biblical narrative. The polycentric perception of space pertains mostly to the realm of sacred places. The significance of a particular event or phenomenon gets attached to a particular place, and that is transposed into other similar places of religious importance. Though this kind of a phenomenon is not as intense and exposed as in the Indian religious and literary tradition, in the Bible there are narratives and related perceptions which show remote resemblance to it. One such narrative epitome would be the erecting of altars and offering sacrifice in a place where an important event or phenomenon takes place. In the Books of Samuel, the temple or the Ark of God embodies the presence of God and the sacredness attached to it. However, the visible embodiment of God’s presence in those realities is transposed into the newly erected places which have come into prominence later on because of some specific events. Here are some specimens: Transposition of place—Beth-shemesh (1 Sam 6:13–15) Now the people of Beth-shemesh were reaping their wheat harvest in the valley. When they looked up and saw the ark, they went with rejoicing to meet it. The cart came into the field of Joshua of Beth-shemesh, and stopped there. A large stone was there; so they split up the wood of the cart and offered the cows as a burnt offering to the LORD. The Levites took down the ark of the LORD and the box that was beside it, in which were the gold objects, and set them upon the large stone. Then the people of Beth-shemesh offered burnt offerings and presented sacrifices on that day to the LORD. Transposition of place—the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite (2 Sam 24:16,18,25) But when the angel stretched out his hand toward Jerusalem to destroy it, the LORD relented concerning the evil, and said to the angel who was bringing destruction among the people, “It is enough; now stay your hand.” The angel of the LORD was then by the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite. That day Gad came to David and said to him, “Go up and erect an altar to the LORD on the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite.”

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David built there an altar to the LORD, and offered burnt offerings and offerings of well-being. So the LORD answered his supplication for the land, and the plague was averted from Israel.

The above instances point out that whether it is a victory in war, regaining of the Ark or warding off a curse or catastrophe, the places attached to them become the subject transposition. This can be seen as a polycentric perception of space in the biblical narrative.

Cosmocentric and Anthropocentric Spatial Perceptions If at all there is a major difference in the perception of space between ancient Indian and Biblical narrative traditions, then it would be in the cosmocentric and anthropocentric perceptions of space; while the Indian is more cosmocentric, the Biblical is anthropocentric. However, they are mutually inclusive, and it has to be seen as two worldviews contributing to each other. In the hands of an ancient Indian narrator, space revolves around the cosmos, but in the hands of a biblical narrator it revolves around the human being. The cosmic elements and things such as mountains, rivers, oceans, places connected to the cosmic powers, heavenly abodes, etc. appear in the narration as recurring themes in the Indian literary tradition as it deals with space. Biblical narration, on the other hand, attaches spatial importance with the human victory, failure, suffering, call, mission, ancestry, etc. To show this difference, here are two narrative illustrations. The one from the Indian domain is the paraphrased transcription of a story given in Lipner. Cosmocentric Spatial Perception—The Story of the Descent of the Ganges King Bhagīratha needed the sacred waters of the Ganges, who dwelt in heaven, to purify the remains of a large group of his ancestors, which would enable them to reach heaven. But how to induce the Ganges to descend from her heavenly abode to fulfil this need? He decided to persuade her by the acquisition of tapas or spiritual energy. This worked. After 1000 years of arduous austerities on his part, the Ganges agreed to descend to earth at the Himalayas (earth’s high point), but she advised Bhagīratha that, unless Śiva, who dwelt in the Himalayas, cushioned the impact of her torrential fall in his matted locks, the earth would be destroyed. More acquisition of tapas followed, and at last Śiva consented to break the Ganges’ descent to earth. So, in the Himalayas, the Ganges (also known as the daughter of the Himalayas) plunged from heaven towards earth, first crashing into Śiva’s tangled hair and then meandering through so as to fall gently to earth. Bhagīratha led the waters to where his ancestors lay to purify them, and after this to what we now know as the Bay of Bengal so that the ocean’s space could be filled. The world has benefited ever since. (2010:305)

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Anthropocentric Spatial Perception—David Anointed King of Judah (2 Sam 2:1–7) After this David inquired of the LORD, “Shall I go up into any of the cities of Judah?” The LORD said to him, “Go up.” David said, “To which shall I go up?” He said, “To Hebron.” So David went up there, along with his two wives, Ahinoam of Jezreel, and Abigail the widow of Nabal of Carmel. David brought up the men who were with him, everyone with his household; and they settled in the towns of Hebron. Then the people of Judah came, and there they anointed David king over the house of Judah. When they told David, “It was the people of Jabesh-gilead who buried Saul,” David sent messengers to the people of Jabesh-gilead, and said to them, “May you be blessed by the LORD, because you showed this loyalty to Saul your lord, and buried him! Now may the LORD show steadfast love and faithfulness to you! And I too will reward you because you have done this thing. Therefore let your hands be strong, and be valiant; for Saul your lord is dead, and the house of Judah has anointed me king over them.”

The above illustration is not to compare the stories, but to see the difference in the narrative point of view with regard to spatialisation. The role that space plays in the cosmic sphere and in the human sphere makes for a subtle difference in the outlook and worldview. When Indian narration speaks about the sacred waters of the Ganges, heavenly abode, the mountain of Himalaya, and the ocean’s space, the Biblical narration speaks about the cities of Judah, the people of Judah, the house of Judah, the people of Jabesh-gilead, etc. to show the might of the Kings Bhagīratha and King David, respectively. In spite of the stories’ contextual difference, one can rightly deliberate upon the spatial point of view engraved into the very nature of narration, for both stories are related to the assertion and extension of human power. In the whole affair, the role space plays in a narration is a matter of interest. There one comes to the point that the biblical narrative gives more focus to the spatial concept in relation to humans than to the cosmos in general.

chapter seven

Three Classical Theories of Kāvya Śāstra towards the Appreciation of the Davidic Episode

The fourth model which has been proposed by this study consists of three main constructs of the classical theories of ancient Indian poetics, i.e. Rasa, Dhvani and Alaṅkāra. The theoretical part of the same has already been expounded in Chapter 3 of part one. However, in this section, this study undertakes the task of applying those three classical theories of Kāvya Śāstra in the appreciation of the Davidic Episode. Though these theories may have an affinity with some of the Western narrative theories, they offer a unique approach par excellence. It is mainly because they are capable of addressing the issues related to the process of literary creation, expression and reception. Approaching the biblical narrative with the gamut of narrative tools and paramount poetical concepts pertaining to these theories will surely enhance and enrich a meaningful Indian reading of the Bible.

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Rasa (Aesthetic Relish) Appreciation of the Davidic Episode Based on the Purus·a-rthas Abstract ο  Rasa means ‘aesthetic experience,’ ‘aesthetic rapture’ or ‘aesthetic relish.’ ο  Rasa essentially deals with the various kinds of emotions, and how they are depicted, inferred and transmitted through a work of art. ο  Rasa is not merely subjective in character nor objective in nature; rather it is a combination of subjective and objective components. ο  Rasa takes into account the entire literary process from its very conception in the mind of the artist to its final perception in the heart of the perceiver/reader/ appreciator. ο  Rasa is a state of relish which springs from a combination of factors related to the emotive moods (bhāvas), the stimuli (vibhāvas) and the responses (anubhāvas). ο  Rasa comes from the combination of various bhāvas such as sthāyibhāvas (permanent states), vyabhicāribhāvas (transitory states), and sāttvikabhāvas (physical effects resulting from emotion), which act upon each other.

Nine Sthāyibhāvas (Emotive Mood/State)

Nine Corresponding Rasas (Aesthetic Relish/Rapture)

rati (love/attractiveness) hāsa (mirth) śoka (sorrow) krodha (anger) utsāha (being resolute) bhaya (fear) jugupsā (disgust) vismaya (wonder) śama (quietude and equanimity)

śṛṅgāra (love/Eros) hāsya (laughter/humour) karuṇa (compassion/pathos) raudra (fury/violence) vīra (valour/courage) bhayānaka (terror/threat) bībhatsa (loathsomeness/disgust) adbhuta (awesome/admiration) śānta (serenity/tranquillity/ repose)

ο  W hile sthāyibhāvas and vyabhicāribhāvas are the internal factors leading to aesthetic relish, vibhāva and anubhāva represent the external factors of such experiences. ο  The relish lies in the transcendence of sthāyibhāvas and in such a state a heightened sequence of relish is generated, which is nothing but rasa. ο  The task of the narrator is to activate the bhāvas lying dormant in the reader. ο  The heart and mind of the sahṛdaya (appreciator) should stay attuned to the innate feelings and emotions represented in the work of a kāvya. ο  Rasa created by the narrator is re-created by the sahṛdaya. ο  Rasa-evocation is the highest goal of poetic endeavour.

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No literary approach to the biblical narrative can claim to be complete unless it gives its due to the emotive aspect. The conventional historical critical approaches and the subsequent canonical and structuralist approaches have been accused of neglecting this aspect and of rarely providing tools for confronting it. The theory of rasa can provide effective tools in this respect as it exhaustively deals with the basic elements of human emotion involved, especially, in the literary work itself, and in the literary creation, transmission and appreciation as well. Moreover, the universal nature of human emotions surpasses the scope of rasa beyond the spatial and temporal limitations of culture. Only rasa can reach out to the feelings, emotions, sentiments and instincts which are the determinants of producing and savouring an aesthetic relish. Having established the need of such an approach in the appreciation of the biblical narrative, the concern of this study turns to the way the rasa theory can be applied to the biblical narrative, in particular to the Davidic Episode. Approaching the biblical narrative with the tools and terminologies of rasa just for the sake of aesthetic fancy will not do justice to its intrinsic semantic focalisation. Therefore, a reasonable balance should be kept between the mundane plane of rasa and the transcendental plane of rasa. The transcendental plane of rasa can build a bridge between the ocean of aesthetics and the ocean of semantics. More precisely, rasa may not take one directly to the semantic realm (consequently to the theological realm), but it will surely take one to the metaphysical and transcendental realm and from there one can cross over to the semantics of ultimate reality. This kind of an approach is something inherent to the ancient Indian tradition when it is concerned with literature, art, architecture, music and religion. Mukerjee makes this point clear when he writes, A distinctive feature of Indian civilization, connected with its metaphysical and aesthetic rather than its religious and theological character, is represented by its search for the total reality through modes of feeling and experience (rasa), both serene and awesome, charming and repellent. The art of no other culture in the world has shown such courage and sincerity, expressing the entire gamut of nine rasas or moods and emotions. (1965:94, 96)

Channelising the scope of rasa in this way would be the ideal one, as far as this study is concerned, to indulge in the aesthetic relish of the biblical narrative without losing its semantic flavour. In order to enable such an approach to work out, Abinavagupta, the main exponent of the theory of rasa, brings rasa into a proper scheme. He assigns the attributes of nine rasas into the scheme of the four-fold values of life (Puruṣārthas)1 according to ancient Indian wisdom. They are: kāma (desire/passion/pleasure),

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artha (wealth/meaning), dhárma (righteousness/duty) and mokṣa (liberation/ salvation). Accordingly, love and joy of rasa are contributive to the goal of passion (kāma); compassion and fury to the goal of occupation and wealth (artha); valour, terror, loathsomeness, and awesome to the goal of righteousness (dhárma); and serenity or tranquillity to the goal of liberation/self-realization/salvation (mokṣa). How the main characters in the Davidic Episode fulfil these four-fold values of life invoking the rasas, how they are imparted to the reader, and the extent of its impact on the reader would be a matter of interest for further discussion. An enquiry into the dialectical force unfolding in and through various bhāvas of characters and the rasa it creates is a strategy very much dear to the Indian tradition. “For both Indian metaphysics and religion stress the ambivalence of antinomic categories, moods, and values in the dialectical march of the human soul, whose enlightenment is understood and realized as a transcendence of the various pairs of opposites” (Mukerjee 1965:96). It is true with regard to the poetics of rasa as well. Exploring such pairs or antinomic categories in view of opening up the possibility of rasa-evocation will be the task of this study to follow. To delimit the area of discussion, one pair of such categories each will be taken for every Puruṣārtha (e.g. for Kāma, Hannah-David) as specimen. This will certainly suffice to show the nuances of rasa on their dialectical advance towards aesthetical relish, which is also capable of opening up new semantic horizons.

The Rasa Dialectic of Kāma: Hannah (1 Sam 1) and David (2 Sam 11) Two stories concerning the progeny of two decisive successors are also the stories of the Kāma of their progenitors, namely, Hannah and David. The two decisive successors are Samuel in the priestly-prophetic line and Solomon in the monarchic line. Hannah is longing for a child, whereas David is longing for a woman to bear his child who is to-be-successor. In both cases, their going through the different stages of bhāvas leads the reader to aesthetic relish (rasa). The pain of passion coupled with love or Eros (śṛṅgāra) and accompanied by laughter and joy (hāsya) create an inner dialectic of rasa. The inner dialectic lies in the way each of them approaches reality to fulfil one’s passion (Kāma) and the stimuli (vibhāva) that they are supported by and the responses (anubhāva) that they produce. Let us first take the story of Hannah who is so carried away by her Kāma that she pours out herself before the Lord, expressing her various bhāvas. Those bhāvas are contributed by vibhāvas (stimuli), such as her state of being provoked or irritated by Peninnah, the other wife of her husband Elkanah, the sacredness of the temple, the presence of the priest Eli, the atmosphere of worship, sacrifice and prayer, and also perhaps the enticing odour of incense and aura of lamps

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and lanterns. Contributed and supported by these stimuli, the dormant Kāma of Hannah to have a child is evoked and erupts, and it produces various bhāvas such as rati (love), utsāha (being resolute), śoka (sorrow), śama (equanimity) and ends up in hāsa (mirth). The dominant emotive moods are rati and hāsa, though the śoka mood of Hannah seems to be overriding. “If one’s love is pure (in oneside love) it will lead to sacrifice which has a chance of manifesting sorrow …” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:73). In fact the sorrow of Hannah is to show the intensity of her being resolute in following her Kāma, longing for a child. The descriptions of Hannah being ‘deeply distressed’ (v.10), ‘weeping bitterly’ (v.10) and being ‘deeply troubled’ are meant not to impose a pathetic image on her, but to show her resoluteness (utsāha) to fulfil her Kāma. That is evident from expressions such as ‘Hannah rose and presented herself before the Lord’ (v.9), ‘she made this vow’ (v.11), ‘she continued praying’ (v.12), etc. Moreover, she pleads with Eli not to consider her as a worthless woman (v.16). “Rati or love in Indian tradition has always been associated with optimism” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:72). Hannah optimistically following her Kāma is evident from her various bhāvas. When the reader goes through all these bhāvas of Hannah’s, s/he will be ultimately indulging in the rasas of rati followed by hāsya. Śṛṅgāra and Hāsya (love and joy) are dominant in the story of Hannah. According to the Nāṭyaśāstra, “whatever in this world is white, pure, bright and beautiful is appreciated in terms of the Dominant State of love (śṛṅgāra)” (VI 45) (Ghosh 1950:108). In the beginning of the story itself, one is invited to savour the śṛṅgāra of Elkanah towards Hannah: “… but to Hannah he gave a double portion, because he loved her, though the Lord had closed her womb” (v.6). “Her husband Elkanah said to her, ‘Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?’” However Hannah turns her śṛṅgāra towards the Lord: ‘Hannah rose and presented herself before the Lord’ (v.9), ‘I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord’ (v.15). Hannah’s śṛṅgāra (love-making) towards the Lord produces results which lead to hāsya (merry-making): “Then the woman went to her quarters, ate and drank with her husband, and her countenance was sad no longer … Elkanah knew his wife Hannah, and the Lord remembered her. In due time Hannah conceived and bore a son. She named him Samuel, for she said, ‘I have asked him of the Lord’” (vv.18–20). However, when Hannah goes through this transforming experience of śṛṅgāra, the people around her cannot follow it properly. It is because śṛṅgāra rasa is suggested (dhvani) and for the same reason it can be misleading. That is why even the high priest Eli suspects Hannah, seeing the involuntary physical changes in her: “Hannah was praying silently; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard; therefore Eli thought she was drunk … But Hannah answered, ‘… I have drunk neither

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wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord’” (vv. 14, 15). At the peak of śṛṅgāra, one even loses one’s identity. Hannah loses her identity as a person and transcends the physical love (rati). Transcending rati, she gives in to śānta rasa (tranquillity or serenity). Her bhāva of ‘pouring out the soul’ indicates the transcendence of śṛṅgāra into śānta rasa. In this state of transcendence, consummation takes place, both in the spiritual and sexual senses, and through this transcendence Hannah’s ‘closed womb’ (v.5) is opened. As it is a unique consummation, the child born out of this becomes a unique figure in deciding the course of history. Hence, the child she has given birth to, Samuel, becomes the central figure in the story to come. “She named him Samuel, for she said, ‘I have asked him of the Lord’” (v.20b). Samuel is the fulfilment of Hannah’s ‘asking’ with passion (Kāma), expressed in śoka-śṛṅgāra-śānta rasas. Now when we move over to the other side of the dialectic, we meet David in the Bathsheba-episode as one who pursues his Kāma. Here David’s Kāma to have a woman to conceive his offspring, who would be the latent successor to the Davidic throne and legacy, is fulfilled through various bhāvas leading to rasa. The way he pursues his Kāma and the subsequent rasas which come his way differ from Hannah’s story. While Hannah fulfils her Kāma transcending the mere physical level of śṛṅgāra, David follows rati only in the sense of erotic love and that, too, mingled with violence. The reader is exposed to an erotic love (śṛṅgāra), mingled with raudra (fury) and bhayānaka (terror). To make it worse, substantial (ālambana) and enhancer (uddīppana) stimuli (vibhāvas) also put David in such a situation, and as a result vīra (valour), raudra (fury), śoka (sorrow), bhayānaka (terror) and bībhatsa (disgust) are aroused and they eclipse śṛṅgāra rasa. It is not that David pursued his passion (Kāma) to have an upright woman to bear fruit to the Davidic seed which Nathan found offensive, but the ways and means he used to fulfil it. The whole Bathsheba-episode is narratively positioned in the midst of war and violence. As a prelude to this episode, the narrative referring to the custom of kings going out for war is given (2 Sam 11:1). Contrary to the usual practice, Joab is sent forth to Rabbah to wage war against the Ammonites, but David remains in Jerusalem. In the first verse itself the mood is set which is reflected in the coming Bathsheba-episode (2 Sam 11:2–12:25). There we see a David, who stays back in Jerusalem, not going out for war, who wages a war within: An inner battle to fulfil his Kāma accompanied by various emotive moods (bhāvas) and various rasas they produce, śṛṅgā, being the dominant, takes the narration further. Two battles are waged side by side: the outer battle he fights against the Ammonites in Rabbah and the inner battle he fights against himself in Jerusalem. The following diagram will give an outlook of this narrative scheme:

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2 Sam 11:1 In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab with his officers and all Israel with him; they ravaged the Ammonites, and besieged Rabbah. But David remained at Jerusalem.

OUTER BATTLE Battle, Ravage, Besiege … Vīra (valour), Raudra (fury), Bhayānaka (terror), Bībhatsa (disgust) rasas … David remained at Jerusalem

2 Sam 11:2–12:25 Bathsheba-episode

INNER BATTLE Śṛṅgāra, Hāsya rasas … Rati and Śṛṅgāra fulfilled through violence, ravage, besiege, taking by force, etc. (Absence of Śānta rasa)

2 Sam 12:26–31

OUTER BATTLE

Now Joab fought against Rabbah of the Ammonites, and took the royal city. Joab sent messengers to David, and said, “I have fought against Rabbah; moreover, I have taken the water city. Now, then, gather the rest of the people together, and encamp against the city, and take it; or I myself will take the city, and it will be called by my name.” So David gathered all the people together and went to Rabbah, and fought against it and took it. He took the crown of Milcom from his head; the weight of it was a talent of gold, and in it was a precious stone; and it was placed on David’s head. He also brought forth the spoil of the city, a very great amount. He brought out the people who were in it, and set them to work with saws and iron picks and iron axes, or sent them to the brickworks. Thus he did to all the cities of the Ammonites. Then David and all the people returned to Jerusalem.

Took the royal city, Fight against, Encamp against, Take the water city, Take the crown, Bring forth the spoil of the city … Vīra (valour), Raudra (fury), Bhayānaka (terror), Bībhatsa (disgust) rasas …

David returned to Jerusalem

Figure 45.  Rasa Dialectic of Kāma in the Bathsheba-Episode.

In the prelude (v.1), it is not clear whether David is victorious in the real battle fought by his men; however, a mood of war and violence is set which is echoed in the following Bathsheba-episode. Whereas, David’s battle with his own emotions and the consequent violence also keep David in a precarious situation where no

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victory is predictable. The victorious David taking the city of Rabbah comes only at the concluding part of the whole story (12:26–31). This conclusion can be seen as a conclusion to the battle David has been fighting with his rati to fulfil his Kāma as well. There he succeeds in taking possession of Bathsheba, similar to his taking possession of the cities, crowns and spoils of Rabbah. David also succeeds in sowing the seed in Bathsheba so that the name of the Davidic Monarchy would continue through the right progeny (Solomon), just as he takes the city by himself and calls it by his name (12: 28, 29). The war David wages within is expressed through various bhāvas. The rasas they produce make the Bathsheba-episode a rich aesthetic experience. This experience is relished mainly in the śṛṅgāra rasa of David. In spite of the narrator being thrifty in the embellishment of David’s love-making, there are some clear indications which suggest (dhvani) the arousal of śṛṅgāra. The expression ‘in the spring of the year’ (11:1) itself prepares the reader for the śṛṅgāra scene to follow. ‘In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle’, David remains at Jerusalem for a different battle: to indulge himself in śṛṅgāra. The spring season—when the plants sprout, buds emerge, and flowers expel fragrance and beauty—prepares the ground for this love-making battle. They are vibhāvas (stimuli) which arouse śṛṅgāra rasa. It is further enhanced and heightened by the description in the next verse: “It happened, late one afternoon, when David rose from his couch and was walking about on the roof of the king’s house, that he saw from the roof a woman bathing; the woman was very beautiful” (v.2). The illustration of ālambana (substantial) and uddīppana (enhancer) vibhāvas (stimuli) here give a clear picture of śṛṅgāra: ‘Late afternoon’—the time when the tender beams of light and pleasant streams of breeze fondle the body of David; ‘rising from his couch’— showing the mood of warmth and ease; ‘walking about on the roof ’—the best time when fantasy, imagination and romance tickle. Then, the substantial stimulus (ālambana vibhāva) of Bathsheba in bathing attire causes an arousal of David’s erotic love. Then onwards he wages a battle to win her over and to take her to himself. It is interesting to note that there is no mention of the bhāvas of Bathsheba (except the mention of a formal lamentation: ‘she made lamentation for him’ [for her husband Uriah] 11:26). Here lies the significance of Nathan’s story. Nathan gives the ‘story-less’ woman a ‘story’; ‘bhāva-less woman’ a ‘bhāva’. Thus, more than the content of the story, the narrative setting of the story itself gathers significance. The absence of bhāvas in Bathsheba is compensated by the character of the poor man’s ewe lamb in Nathan’s story. The portrayal of the poor man’s ewe lamb, such as ‘the poor man brought it up’; ‘it grew up with him and with his children’; ‘it used to eat of his meagre fare’; ‘it used to drink from his cup’; ‘it used to lie in his bosom’, ‘it was like

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a daughter to him’, is symmetrical to Bathsheba’s supposed bhāvas. Thus, the reader is overwhelmed with the rasa of love, joy and compassion. As for the character Bathsheba, she not only gets an identity (storyful), but also is exposed more to love, joy and compassion, than showing bhāvas directly. The consummation of David’s Kāma takes place by his love-in-union (śṛṅgāra in the sense of Eros) with Bathsheba. Since she is married to another man, violence already exists in this śṛṅgāra. Not only in this case, but in general, fear, anxiety and violence are not inimical to śṛṅgāra rasa. “Besides, since attraction and attachment involve the fear of losing or not getting, the fear of pain is there. The fear of being made a victim is always there. So, when attraction overcomes this fear, there is violence against the self … Thus, in a sense, in love, each is the victim of the other’s attraction.” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:78)

Bathsheba gets pregnant, her husband Uriah is killed, the consequent events of Nathan’s anger and curse that ‘the sword shall never depart from David’s house’ (12:10), the death of the son born out of David’s śṛṅgāra with Bathsheba, the pain and disgust they go through, etc. evoke various contrasting rasas. Since bhayānaka and bībhatsa rasas are not intrinsic to and incompatible with śṛṅgāra rasa, when they come together, there occur fear, disgust and death. That is why the son born out of this kind of union dies, and the one born in the real sense of śṛṅgāra becomes the rightful successor of the Davidic Dynasty: “Then David consoled his wife Bathsheba, and went to her, and lay with her; and she bore a son, and he named him Solomon” (12:24). Here Kāma attains a certain level of śānta rasa and for that reason it is said that ‘the Lord loved him’ (Solomon).

The Rasa Dialectic of Artha: Eli’s Sons (1 Sam 2:11–36) and Samuel (2 Sam 2:11–36; 12:1–5) Rasa-evocation takes place in a dialectical way also in the narrative spectrum of Artha (wealth): one of the four-fold values of human life (Puruṣārtha) with which karuṇa (compassion) and raudra (fury) rasas are associated. The pursuit of wealth and prosperity is esteemed by the people of all ages as a value of life, and in their pursuit of artha they are subject to various bhāvas. The representation of these bhāvas forms part of the narrative as well in all cultures, and the rasas evoked thereby add aesthetic value to the literature. Moreover, in most cases, the rasaevocation becomes more relishable through the progression of the dialectic involved in it. In this regard, Biblical narration has always something to offer. Hence, it is the task of the reader/appreciator to explore those dialectics which are often concealed by the suggestive (dhvani) representation of the realities.

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In the Books of Samuel, there are many instances where the varying bhāvas of the people in pursuit of wealth (artha) occur. This study will take two of them to show how this dialectic could bring about rasa in the narrative economy of a story. They are the story about the downfall of the Sons of Eli (1 Sam 2:11–36) and the story of the rise and triumph of Samuel (2 Sam 2:11–36; 12:1–5). The main characters of both stories are public servants and, therefore, their bhāvas in dealing with public wealth and well-being matters a lot. No narrator can overlook the gamut of bhāvas those characters live through in their pursuit of artha. Thus, this aspect has been well brought out in the case of both characters: the Sons of Eli serving as priests and Samuel serving as priest, prophet and judge. Let us have a look at the bhāvas of the Sons of Eli in their pursuit of artha: Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the LORD or for the duties of the priests to the people. When anyone offered sacrifice, the priest’s servant would come, while the meat was boiling, with a three-pronged fork in his hand, and he would thrust it into the pan, or kettle, or caldron, or pot; all that the fork brought up the priest would take for himself. This is what they did at Shiloh to all the Israelites who came there. (1 Sam 2:12–14)

The above narrative of Eli’s sons Hophni and Phinehas is a clear portrayal of their sthāyibhāvas of anger (krodha) and the consequent śoka (sorrow) in relation to artha. These sthāyibhāvas cause the rasas of fury (raudra) and compassion (karuṇa) to arise. The Nāṭyaśāstra perceives karuṇa as resulting from raudra (VI 40): “… the result of the Furious Sentiment is the Pathetic …” (Ghosh 1950:107). Raudra is always perceived as something negative, for it is associated with evil, violence, oppression and injustice. In this regard, let us see what the Nāṭyaśāstra has to say: Now the Furious (raudra) Sentiment has as its basis the Dominant State of anger. It owes its origin to Rākṣasas (demons), Danavās (monsters) and haughty men and is caused by fights. This is created by Determinants such as anger, rape, abuse, insult, untrue allegation, exorcizing, threatening, revengefulness, jealousy and the like. Its actions are beating, breaking, crushing, cutting, piercing, taking up arms, hurling of missiles, fighting, drawing of blood, and similar other deeds. (Ghosh 1950:112–113)

As the NS maintains, raudra leads to destruction and damage. When the narrator (implied author) says, “Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the LORD or for the duties of the priests to the people” (2:12), we see the Sons of Eli in the permanent mood (sthāyibhāvas) of krodha (anger) involving śoka (sorrow). The behavior of the Sons of Eli is the cause of raudra (fury) which is susceptible to karuṇa (compassion). “… karuṇa is generated from certain causes or vibhāvas

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which are the consequences or the anubhāvas of raudra. Thus, raudra is the source of karuṇa and hence the primary rasa to which karuṇa can be related” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:121–122). The raudra caused by the Sons of Eli will invariably lead to karuṇa. The narrator brings out the concrete actions of the Sons of Eli which generate raudra: ‘they treated the offerings of the Lord with contempt’ (2:17) (by thrusting the three-pronged fork into the sacrificial pot to snatch the biggest and the best portion of the meat and by taking the raw meat by force); ‘they look with greedy eyes at the Lord’s sacrifice and offerings’ (2:29) and ‘they lay with the women who served at the entrance to the tent of meeting’ (2:22). All these show their attitude towards wealth (artha). They abuse their priestly prerogatives. Thrusting the fork so deeply into the meat is with the intention of grabbing the absolute maximum. “The Torah dictates that the Kohen is entitled only to the breast and thigh of a peace-offering. Anything that Eli’s sons took in excess of that was thievery” (Weinberger 2011:43). Their bhāva towards wealth involves injustice, lawlessness and abuse of power. The rasa of fury (raudra) invoked by the evil deeds of the Sons of Eli is not exactly expressed through the people, those who are affected by them, except the narrative accounts such as “I hear of your evil dealings from all these people … it is not a good report that I hear the people of the Lord spreading abroad” (2:23–24). It is in fact the fury of the Lord which carries the intensified emotions and reactions of the people: “‘… if someone sins against the Lord, who can make intercession’ … it was the will of the Lord to kill them” (2:25). Here the raudra of the Lord (in a way, of the people) leads to karuṇa (compassion). The rasa-dialectic lies in the way this karuṇa is translated into action. The way the story is structured and the way the rasas of raudra and karuṇa therein are interwoven, are decisive in the process of aesthetic relish. With regard to raudra, on the one hand, the related various bhāvas are well brought out in the narrative, as it is explicated above. On the other hand, the narrative is not so expressive in the matter of karuṇa. However, compassion (karuṇa) finds its expression in a different way: in the embodiment of Samuel. The interwoven narrative thread of the rise of Samuel is the physical embodiment of karuṇa resulting from the raudra evoked by the scoundrel Sons of Eli. In a way, here karuṇa is suggested (dhvani) and here lies the strength of the mastery of the narrator. Instead of invoking the rasa of karuṇa through the people who are subject to the evil deeds of the Sons of Eli, the narrator paves the way for a slowpaced narrative entry to a paradoxical character, i.e. Samuel. Thus, we encounter the progression of the rasa (mainly raudra and karuṇa) in a dialectical manner. Accordingly, the story is structured as illustrated below:

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1 Samuel 2:11—36 11

Then Elkanah went home to Ramah, while the boy (Samuel) remained to minister to the LORD, in the presence of the priest Eli.

12–17 Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the LORD … 18–21 Samuel was ministering before the LORD, a boy wearing a linen ephod … 22–25 Now Eli was very old. He heard all that his sons were doing to all Israel … 26

Now the boy Samuel continued to grow both in stature and in favour with the LORD and with the people.

27–36 A man of God came to Eli and said to him, “Thus the LORD has said …

Personification

Rasa

Samuel

Karuṇa (prefiguration)

The Sons of Eli

Raudra

Samuel

Karuṇa (embodiment)

The Sons of Eli

Raudra

Samuel

Karuṇa (embodiment)

The Sons of Eli

Raudra

Figure 46.  Rasa Dialectic of Artha in the Story of Eli’s Sons and Boy Samuel.

The narrator has intentionally intermingled two streams of rasa-threads in order to form a story, as is laid out above. One stream brings forth the raudra generated by the evil deeds of the Sons of Eli and the other stream suggestively unfolds the compassion embodied in the character of Samuel. In verse 11, by introducing Samuel at the scene of the temple and priestly ministry, we see in him the prefiguration of karuṇa. In addition, in verses 18–21 and 26, we see the real embodiment of karuṇa in Samuel which is summarized in expressions such as ‘grew up in the presence of the Lord’ (2:21), ‘continued to grow in stature and in favour with the Lord and with the people’ (2:26), etc. Scripture now interrupts its narrative of the evil behavior of Eli’s sons with four verses (18–21) that laud Samuel and describe his swift development as a servant of Hashem. This indicates the stark contrast between Samuel and Eli’s sons, and implicitly commends Samuel for not having been influenced by them … Unlike Eli’s sons, who were preoccupied with culinary delights and the pursuit of shameful pleasures, Samuel busied himself learning Torah and studying the Levitical duties. … (Weinberger 2011:45)

The narrator has presented this contrast in such a way that the reader could relish rasa in a heightened form. Moreover, this narrative journey through the rasa-dialectic prepares the reader for a new shift where karuṇa rasa triumphs. To be precise, raudra meets its natural conclusion—death and destruction: “… in distress you will look with greedy eye on all the prosperity that shall be bestowed upon Israel;

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and no one in your family (Eli’s) shall ever live to old age” (2:32). Through the relish of raudra rasa one comes to the realization that the death and destruction that Eli’s family has to meet with, is the result of Eli’s Sons’ not living up to the values of artha (wealth). “Eli’s family had enjoyed a gluttonous existence at the expense of the Jewish people, now they would witness the tranquility of Jews but would be prevented from sharing in it (Mahari Kara)” (Weinberger 2011:59). In sharp contrast to this, there emerges Samuel who reinstates the value of artha and as a consequence, he lives to old age; and in his farewell address, he himself makes a retrospective remark on artha: “… I have led you from my youth until this day. Here I am; testify against me before the LORD and before his anointed. Whose ox have I taken? Or whose donkey have I taken? Or whom have I defrauded? Whom have I oppressed? Or from whose hand have I taken a bribe to blind my eyes with it? Testify against me and I will restore it to you.” They said, “You have not defrauded us or oppressed us or taken anything from the hand of anyone.” He said to them, “The LORD is witness against you, and his anointed is witness this day, that you have not found anything in my hand.” And they said, “He is witness.” (1 Sam 12:3–5)

In this farewell address of Samuel’s, we get a clear picture of how the boy Samuel has grown as an embodiment of karuṇa fulfilling the values of artha. The rasa-dialectic involved in this fulfillment of the values of artha expands the semantic horizon of the reader who can distance himself/herself from and at the same time actively participate in the story. “In this way, he is capable of relishing even the negative emotions or states which, aesthetically transmuted, can no longer be recognized as negative any more” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:141). This is exactly what the biblical narrator intends to achieve through the evocation of rasa.

The Rasa Dialectic of Dhárma: Saul and David (1 Sam 24) The rasa dialectic involved in the narrative, unfolding the characters in pursuit of Dhárma (righteousness, duty or cosmic rhythmus), is a spectacular characteristic of ancient Indian literature. In this regard, the story of the Mahābhārata is remarkable. There the whole narrative advances through the dialectic of Dhárma, which takes the reader to the highest state of aesthetic relish, i.e. rasa. The dialectic between dhárma (righteousness) and adhárma (unrighteousness) permeates not only the characters, but also the whole narrative strata. Such an inherent and ineluctable dynamism of dhárma is thus seen by Lipner: At the heart of this concept lies two tensions: (i) that between order and chaos, and (ii) that between autonomy (and related concepts such as choice and freedom) and

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obligatedness (or ideas such as duty, etc.). These two dyads overlap in meaning, but are by no means semantically co-extensive. Nevertheless, both are rooted in space and time and in the observance and transgression of boundaries. However idealistic or structural dhárma may be in theory, its actualization is eminently a flesh-and-blood affair, an exercise in objectification; the active agent or subject of dharma must operate under the constraints of the here and now. This is why the dynamics of dharma are best communicated through myth, narrative, event. (2010:99)

As Lipner observes, the actualisation of dhárma is a flesh-and-blood affair. Therefore, its dyads and dialectics involve emotions (bhāvas), and hence are capable of invoking and relishing rasa. Those rasas that mostly contribute to the goal of dhárma are vīra (valour/courageous), bhayānaka (terror/threat), bībhatsa (loathsomeness/disgust) and adbhuta (awesome/admiration). How these rasas meet the demands of dhárma and how they create a semantic spectrum in the biblical narrative are the points of discussion to follow. Dhárma is not a concept totally alien to the biblical narrative, though a single word to conceive all the richness of it is lacking. The biblical concept of ‘righteousness’ comes closer to the Indian concept of ‘dhárma.’ Therefore, mainly based on the said assumption, this study makes an attempt to approach the Davidic Episode. How the rasa dialectic works there towards the goal of dhárma is the central point of this approach. To delimit the area of application, two main characters—Saul and David—and their bhāvas when they live up to the goals of dhárma, are taken for discussion. The encounter of Saul and David in 1 Samuel 24 will be an especially good specimen in order to demonstrate the same. In 1 Sam 24, the bhāvas Saul and David assume can be better appreciated when they are seen based on their adherence to dhárma. Their paths to attain the goals of Dhárma differ, so also their bhāvas and the consequent rasas. Saul deviates from dhárma and David radiates dhárma, though both of them are endowed with the bhāva of utsāha (being resolute), and their activities exhale the bhāvas of bhaya (fear), jugupsā (disgust) and vismaya (wonder). This contrast of their adherence to dhárma brings forth the rasa dialectic, involving mainly the rasas vīra (valour/ courage), bhayānaka (terror/threat), bībhatsa (loathsomeness/disgust) and adbhuta (awe/admiration). Both Saul and David are resolute (utsāha) in their heroic undertakings. But in the matter of pursuing David with the intention of killing him, Saul brings ruin to himself. Saul is esteemed as a man of valour (vīra); however, since he deviates from dhárma, as he pursues David with false perception, he meets with humiliation and moral defeat. “Thus, in vīra rasa, it is the ‘correct perception’ which is the source of directed activity” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:163). The absence of perception leads to distortion and confusion. This is what David means when he says to Saul, “Why

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do you listen to the words of those who say, ‘David seeks to do you harm’?” (v.9). The wrong perception of Saul about David makes him his enemy and Saul yields to the maliciousness of adhárma (unrighteousness). Therefore, it can be rightly pointed out that correct perception adds great value to valour (vīra). The proper representation of vīra rasa is thus conceived by the Nāṭyaśāstra (VI:66): “This is created by Determinants such as presence of mind (correct perception), perseverance, diplomacy, discipline, military strength, aggressiveness, reputation of might, influence and the like” (Ghosh 1959:114). In this manner, Saul falls short of the demands of vīra rasa in his pursuit of dhárma. His false perception leads him to see evil and treachery in David. David refers to this ‘perception’ or ‘knowing’ when he tells Saul, “… you may know for certain that there is no wrong or treason in my hands. I have not sinned against you, though you are hunting me to take my life” (v.11b). It is not the real heroic activity of Saul which arouses the rasas of terror (bhayānaka), disgust (bībhatsa) and admiration (adbhuta), but Saul’s wrong perception and the lack of nobility of action, as the Nāṭyaśāstra (VI: 66) puts it: “Now the Heroic (vīra) Sentiment, relates to the superior type of persons and has energy as its basis” (Ghosh 1959:114). David’s satirical words of surprise in a way reveal the fact that Saul fails to keep up this nobility: “Against whom has the king of Israel come out? Whom do you pursue? A dead dog? A single flea?” (v.14). Indirectly he says that Saul is no more a vīra (hero) and his false heroism will only lead him to adhárma (unrighteousness). The classical rabbinic commentators, too, subscribe to such an elucidation: “After declaring his innocence, David took Saul to task for the manner in which he had pursued him, one that detracted from Saul’s dignity (Malbim)” (Weinberger 2011:486). It firmly affirms that valour with distortion of perception will lead only to disaster. Saul pursuing David intending to kill him, thinking that David would raise his hands against him (vv. 6a, 10b, 12b, 13b), does not correspond to his true sthāyibhāva. His true sthāyibhāva as king should be and must be to act upon, according to the principles of dhárma, that which is innate in him. On the contrary, he gives in to the vibhāvas of anger and fury, as if his vīra state is governed by forces which are out of his control and as if he does not have mastery over his own will, perception and conscience. Thus, Saul is compelled to pursue the path of adhárma, even though he has already experienced and become aware of the loyalty, sincerity and royal commitment of David. It is evident from the words of compassion (karuṇa) he utters as he realises that David has spared his life: “… Saul said, “Is this your voice, my son David?” Saul lifted up his voice and wept. He said to David, “You are more righteous (man of dhárma) than I; for you have repaid me good, whereas I have repaid you evil” (vv. 16–17). Here we see Saul struggling with his confusing and conflicting emotions. In the great epic of the Mahābhārata,

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the complexities of such emotions in relation to dhárma’s demands have been well depicted. The king Duryodhana, after going through such a complex situation, comes to the following wisdom: Janami dharmam na cha me pravrittih Janamy adharmam na cha me nivrittih I know what dharma is, and yet I cannot follow it. I know what is contrary to dharma, and yet I cannot refrain from it. Bhagavad Gītā 3/36

Duryodhana, who belongs to the Kaurava dynasty, follows the path of adhárma (unrighteousness) to seize power from his cousins who belong to the Pāṇḍava dynasty, and it results in a war which the Pāṇḍavas win. He knew what was right but he could not do it; he knew what was wrong but he could not refrain from doing it. In the same way, a kind of dhárma-adhárma dialectic is at work in Saul’s act of directing his valour against David who is his son-in-law (‘Is this your voice, my son David?’) and the chief of his army (who repaid him good by defeating Goliath and won many wars for him). On the other hand, we encounter David in a different state of vīra bhāva—the vīra bhāva conforming to the demands of dhárma. In spite of the fact that David had every chance to kill Saul who is all out to kill him, he refrains from it, i.e. he refrains from doing adhárma. “He (David) said to his men, ‘The Lord forbid that I should do this thing to my lord, the Lord’s anointed, to raise my hand against him; for he is the Lord’s anointed’” (v.6). Here we experience a transformed vīra rasa having the quality of correct perception, prudence and presence of mind. In fact, the mighty men of David stir up David to be resolute (utsāha bhāva), to rise to the occasion and kill Saul: “The men of David said to him, ‘Here is the day of which the LORD said to you, ‘I will give your enemy into your hand, and you shall do to him as it seems good to you.’’”(v.4a). For David, ‘as it seems good to you’ is not to kill Saul. “So David scolded his men severely and did not permit them to attack Saul” (v.7a). He only cuts off a corner of Saul’s cloak (v.4b) to bring Saul to the correct perception that ‘the Lord gave him into his hand in the cave; and some urged to kill him, but he spared him’ (v.10a). In this course of rasa dialectic, the reader is exposed to the character of David as a real hero (vīra). His valour consists in being resolute in following the path of dhárma: (‘you are more righteous than I’ v.17). Once again, David becomes the hero in a different manner than earlier (“Saul has killed his thousands, and David his ten thousands.” 18:7b). Earlier on several occasions he has been acclaimed as a man who fulfills the demands of a hero by defeating the enemies with such valour. Everywhere, whether it is in the case of defeating Goliath (17) or escaping from

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the wrath of the king of Gath (21) or fleeing from Saul (19, 21), he keeps the same presence of mind, correct perception and prudence. Here, in Ch. 24, by sparing the life of Saul, David again acts out vīra in a different manner. It is even acknowledged by Saul and it is evident from his words: “Now I know that you shall surely be king, and that the kingdom of Israel shall be established in your hand” (v.20). This kind of a rasa dialectic between Saul and David unfolds the semantics of dhárma more effectively and takes the reader to the peaks of aesthetic relish (rasa).

The Rasa Dialectic of Moks·a: Various Bhāvas and Related Characters Śama (quietude and equanimity), from which śānta rasa (serenity/tranquillity/ repose) arises, is the sthāyibhāva of mokṣa. This has already been conceived by the Nāṭyaśāstra (VI, after verse 82: as a later interpolation according to J. L. Masson and M. V. Patwardhan): “Now Śānta, which has śama for its sthāyibhāva, and which leads to mōkṣa, arises from vibhāvas such as knowledge of the truth, detachment (vairāgya), purity of mind, etc.” (1969:227). It implies that Śānta rasa is not a state of inertia; rather it is a state of stasis where all other rasas merge. “Śāntarasa is one’s natural state of mind (prakṛti). Other emotions such as love, etc., are deformations (of that original state). The deformations arise out of this natural state of the mind and in the end again merge back into it” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:93). To reach this state of merging one has to go through the sthāyibhāvas or permanent states of the respective rasas. However, those bhāvas are to be transformed and transcended, and as a result, one reaches a heightened state of rasa, which is Śānta. This indicates a state where one has transcended his/her desires, which is the primary prerequisite of mokṣa. “Mōkṣa is the state of bliss when and where there is no distinction between joy and sorrow, where one has transcended the world of binaries and desires” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:63). Ultimately, it points to the fact that all eight sthāyibhāvas contain the potential for transcendence and, thereby, the possibility of the perception of truth. Therefore, Śānta rasa “arises from a desire to secure the liberation of the Self and leads to knowledge of the Truth” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:93). How the fabulas,2 plots and characters of the biblical narrative represent this rasa dialectic and dynamism is the point of the discussion to follow. When a reader/appreciator partakes in this rasa dialectic and dynamism, that will lead him/her towards mokṣa, i.e. liberation or self-realisation as well. “Thus, a reader, a sahṛdaya, if he pursues the path of seeking through literature, can also attain mōkṣa with the help of appropriate works filled with rasa” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:249). This is true with regard to the biblical narrative as well, where one finds fabulas, plots and characters with distinctive rasa orientations, and for that reason the state of mokṣa they experience is also different. The Davidic Episode is

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typical of such a narrative diversity and dynamism. This study has identified four distinctive narrative paradigms where the dialectic dealing with Śānta rasa leading to mokṣa are best featured (see Figure 47).

Figure 47.  Rasa Dialectic of Mokṣa in the Books of Samuel.

Each of the above illustrated narrative paradigms highlights one of the mental dispositions of serenity or tranquillity (Śānta rasa) and they are to be seen differently depending on their substantial and enhancer stimuli (vibhāva). It can be a metaphysical reality like God, or a virtual reality like love or compassion or disgust, or an existential reality like a friend, guru or superior. Accordingly we have to approach the above given narrative paradigms: Hannah towards the Lord (1 Sam 2:1–10), Samuel towards his Life and Mission (1 Sam 12), Jonathan towards David (1 Sam 18:1–4; 20; 2 Sam 1:18–27) and Rizpa towards her Impaled Sons (2 Sam 21:8–14). An extended expounding of the same with biblical reference pointing to the exact bhāvas and the corresponding contexts are given in Figure 48. Hannah towards the Lord (1 Sam 2:1–10)—Bhakti Bhāva (Devotion) Hannah says, “… for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed” (v.3b). It is a kind of realisation of ‘the truth’ Hannah arrives at, which gives rise to śama (quietude and equanimity). “… knowledge of the truth alone is the means of attaining mokṣa and so it would be proper to regard that alone as the sthāyibhāva of mokṣa” (Masson J. L. 1969:130). After going through the stages of distress (‘she was deeply distressed’ 1 Sam 1:10), trouble (‘I am a woman deeply troubled’ 1 Sam 1:15) and misery (‘look on the misery of your servant’ 1 Sam 1:11), Hannah arrives at a state where her prayers are heard and she ‘finds favour

“… for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed.”

Śānta rasa out of the heightened state of devotion.

1 Sam 18:19b

“Here I am; testify against me before the Lord Śānta rasa out of the and before his anointed…” heightened state of disgust. “… the soul of Jonathan was bound to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.”

Śānta rasa out of the heightened state of Philia.

2 Sam 21:20

1 Sam 12:3a

1 Sam 2:3b

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“Then Rizpa the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth, and spread it on a rock for herself, from the beginning of harvest until rain fell on them from the heavens; she did not allow the birds of the air to come on the bodies by day, or the wild animals by night.”

Śānta rasa out of the heightened state of pathos.

Figure 48.  Śānta Rasa Attained through Various Bhāvas in the Books of Samuel.

in the Lord’s sight’ (1 Sam 1:18a), and as a result she ‘conceived and bore a son’ (1 Sam 1:20). All through these happenings she has been in pursuit of the truth (bhakti) and that brings her the knowledge of her own Self (Ātman). “The knowledge of the truth is just another name for knowledge of the Self ” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:130). It is this knowledge of the self that makes her say, “My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God. My mouth derides my enemies, because I rejoice in my victory” (1 Sam 2:1). Her heart, strength, mouth and the mental disposition of joy proclaim one truth: “There is no Holy One like the Lord, no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God. Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed” (1 Sam 2:2,3). This is her victory (in a sense mokṣa) and this victory is not only that ‘the Lord had opened her closed womb’ (1 Sam 1:5), but moreover, in the knowledge that ‘the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed’ (v.3b). The Self can only come to this realisation of knowledge when arrogance and pride are gotten rid of. This is in fact the self-realisation, in which bhakta (devotee) and bhagavan (deity) merge together.3 “Knowledge of the truth is just another name for knowledge of the Self … Therefore, the Ātman (the Self ) alone possessed such pure qualities as knowledge, bliss, etc. and devoid of the enjoyment of imagined sense-objects, is the sthāyibhāva of Śānta” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:130–131). The metamorphosis of Hannah

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in the Canticle (1 Sam 2:1–10) is the result of her realisation of her true Self, and as a consequence all her bhāvas seen in the previous plot merge into one bhāva, i.e. śama, the sthāyibhāva of śānta. She transcends her state of ‘being deeply distressed and troubled’, ‘misery’ and ‘womb being closed,’ and the fulfilment she experiences therein leads her towards the liberation of the Self (mokṣa). This liberation (mokṣa) in the state of Śānta impregnates Hannah with the true perception of the Self and with a dynamism which has been clearly manifested throughout the canticle. Samuel towards His Life and Mission (1 Sam 12)—Vairāgya (Disgust) In Samuel’s farewell address, as he got old and gray, he shows a disgust and detachment (vairāgya) towards his life and mission: “See, it is the king who leads you now; I am old and gray, but my sons are with you. I have led you from my youth until this day” (v.2). These words of retreat imply a kind of indifference he gained through his old age which also endowed him with the ‘knowledge of Truth’ and ‘liberation of the Self ’. “Right knowledge arises from the disappearance of ignorance and of attachment of pleasure. Fear of birth, old age, death, etc. an attitude of disgust towards objects of enjoyment, and indifference to pleasure and pain arise (as its anubhāvas)” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:94). Interestingly, his farewell address finds its narrative space not along with the account of Samuel’s death (25:1), but just at the beginning of Saul ascending as King (12). It is to bring home the point that his vairāgya has social, prophetical and personal implications. Firstly, his life and mission have come to the fulfilment where the people could say, “You have not defrauded us or oppressed us or taken anything from the hand of anyone” (v.4). Secondly, it is an oracle warning against the newly erected kingship. Samuel’s questions are indirect indications of the future kingship: “Whose ox have I taken? (you not, but the King will). Or whose donkey have I taken? (you not, but he will). Or whom have I defrauded? (you not, but he will). Whom have I oppressed? (you not, but he will). Or from whose hand have I taken a bribe to blind my eyes with it? (you not, but he will).” Thirdly, he has reached a saturation point where he is free of all desires (mokṣa) and able to ‘enter into judgment with the people before the Lord and to declare all the saving deeds of the Lord’ (v.7). These three narrative focal points make a portrayal of an aged Samuel who has come to the knowledge of his pure self (sthāyibhāva) and which has led him to a state of repose (Śānta). “‘Purity of mind’ thus is a pre-requisite, as is ‘detachment’ or vairāgya. Purity can be achieved only when one knows what is impure, and, hence, this involves this prior distinction at some point of time (which might lead to disgust and thus to detachment)” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:228). Only one who has attained this state can say, “Here I am; testify against me before the Lord and before his anointed …” (v.3a). “When one is aware that the objects of senses are

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the causes of pain and suffering and so fears them, it leads to disillusionment and hence to vairāgya (or renunciation)” (Krishnamoorthy 2004:233). As the one who has transcended into the bhāva of vairāgya, Samuel expresses his concern over the people and the Lord’s anointed one. Here Samuel’s vairāgya and the newly formed King’s sensual and impure indulgences are juxtaposed. The narrator brings the vairāgya of Samuel to the focal point and the reader’s sensibility is called on to the related issues, as is befittingly depicted in the Viṣṇudharmottarapurāṇa: “O King, they say that Śānta arises from vairāgya. It can be enacted by means of taking on religious paraphernalia and through such means as compassion for all beings, mediation, encouraging others towards the path of mokṣa etc.” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:36). This kind of an enactment is attempted in the farewell address of Samuel by the narrator. Jonathan towards David (1 Sam 18:1–4; 20; 2 Sam 1:18–27)—Mitra (Philia) Love, intimacy and affection in the extraordinary friendship (mitra) between Jonathan and David take the reader to the heights of Śānta rasa, which is a sublime form of Śṛṅgāra. Śānta attained through this state of Philia opens up the possibility of liberation—liberation from the bondages of all other bhāvas related to sensual objects. It is thus said about their friendship: “… the soul of Jonathan was bound to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul” (18:1). Their friendship transcends all bindings and bondages and, hence, is a complete consummation of their love-in-union which leads them to the relish of Śānta. “That man whose love is centred in the Self, who is gratified in his Self, and who takes all delight in the Self—for such a man there is nothing any longer to be accomplished” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:129). When ‘Jonathan loved David as his own soul’, it is something deeply rooted in the Self (sthāyibhāva), where they know no boundaries and that stage will be the locus of all bliss and delight, and they experience a sense of accomplishment and self-realisation. The love which is a sthāyibhāva (a permanent emotion) is altogether different from a mere (one-sided) feeling in the form of a desire felt by one person for another and which is found to be present (only) in the earlier stages of attachment. The love which is a sthāyibhāva progresses continuously from its faint beginnings up to its final realisation and it ends in the attainment of complete happiness. … (Masson and Patwardhan (vol. II) 1970:79)

The friendship between Jonathan and David progressed through many troubles and tribulations and reached the final realisation and continued even after the tragic death of Jonathan, because they let their souls merge in the sthāyibhāva of love. “Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided …”

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(2 Sam 1:23). This state of the soul in the sthāyibhāva of love-in-friendship can also be called self-realisation or true perception of the self or the purity of the soul. No tribulations can shatter this state of equanimity (Śānta). The enmity between Jonathan’s father Saul and David, his repeated attempts to kill David and the already known prophesy that the House of David will take over the Dynasty of the House of Saul do not in any way dissuade them from their bond of friendship. In fact, they strengthen their bond which is obvious in their dialogue: “David also swore, ‘Your father knows that you like me … there is but a step between me and death.’ Then Jonathan said to David, ‘Whatever you say, I will do for you’” (1 Sam 20:3–4). Their friendship, deep-rooted in and transcended to the sthāyibhāva of love-in-union, surpasses all other bhāvas and rasas, and they relish the serenity (Śānta) in the liberation (mokṣa) of souls. That prompted David to say, “… my brother Jonathan; greatly beloved were you to me; your love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women” (2 Sam 1:26). Such is the intensity of the fulfilment of Philia in friendship which brings about the Śānta of souls leading to mokṣa. Rizpa towards Her Impaled Sons (2 Sam 21:8–14)—Vatsa (Pathos) In the character of Rizpa, we see a woman who merges all her emotions and sentiments of the extreme state of suffering into one bhāva, i.e. Śānta. Śānta rasa taking delight in mokṣa predominates the story. Here is the main portion of the story: The king took the two sons of Rizpah daughter of Aiah, whom she bore to Saul, Armoni and Mephibosheth; and the five sons of Merab daughter of Saul, whom she bore to Adriel son of Barzillai the Meholathite; he gave them into the hands of the Gibeonites, and they impaled them on the mountain before the LORD. The seven of them perished together. They were put to death in the first days of harvest, at the beginning of barley harvest. Then Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth, and spread it on a rock for herself, from the beginning of harvest until rain fell on them from the heavens; she did not allow the birds of the air to come on the bodies by day, or the wild animals by night. When David was told what Rizpah daughter of Aiah, the concubine of Saul, had done, David went and took the bones of Saul and the bones of his son Jonathan … (2 Sam 21:8–12a)

Rizpah, who lost two of her sons in a tragic way, falls into a deep state of sorrow where one forgets oneself and one’s passions and pains of the body, and this state can be called the sthāyibhāva of her true self (which is Śānta). “Various feelings, because of their particular respective causes, arise from Śānta (a state of mental calm). But when these causes disappear, they melt back into Śānta” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:99). The different sthāyibhāvas can be the sthāyibhāvas of Śānta because of the different approaches leading to it. In this context, pathos

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motivated by her vatsa bhāva (motherly endearment) is the sthāyibhāva of Śānta. Her act of compassion, affection, resoluteness, determination and bravery is a kind of dhīraśānta (heroic serenity): “Then Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth, and spread it on a rock for herself, from the beginning of harvest until rain fell on them from the heavens; she did not allow the birds of the air to come on the bodies by day, or the wild animals by night. “… those whose hearts are tranquil, to give their all-in-all, i.e. to give their bodies, for the sake of helping another is not contrary to Śānta” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:133). According to the theory of Śānta rasa, “knowledge of the truth is the canvas behind all emotions, and so it is the most stable of all the sthāyibhāvas” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:131). As Rizpa falls back into Śānta caused by pathos, she is endowed with the knowledge of the truth which liberates (mokṣa) her to commit herself to the heroic act. Thus the idea is that (since) somehow the body is to be renounced (sometime or other), if it be given up for the sake of another, what would not be achieved? (i.e. so much is thereby gained) … Therefore whatever deeds, beginning with the imparting of (spiritual) advice and culminating in the renunciation of one’s body, are performed in order to achieve the benefit of others and without reference to one’s own benefit, are certainly inconceivable in the sense of people who have not attained to a knowledge of the true nature of the Atman. For those who know (the Truth), there is liberation in all the (four) stages (āśrama) of life. That is (what is taught) in the Smṛtis and Śrutis. (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:134)

Rizpa spent her days ‘from the beginning of harvest until rain fell,’ not allowing the birds of the air to come on the bodies by day, or the wild animals by night. Her self-renunciation deserves to be called an act of valour (dhīrodātta). “The dhīrodātta (nāyaka) is a great being, very profound, tolerant, not boastful, steady; his sense of ego is kept in check and he is firm in his commitments … ‘Firm in his commitments’ means that he carries out till completion whatever he agrees to do” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:146). Jīmūtavāhana in the Nāgānanda is a character endowed with dhīrodātta (śānta hero): Jīmūtavāhana says, “Blood is oozing from the openings in my veins, and on my body there is still flesh. O Garuda, I see that you are not yet satisfied, so why have you stopped devouring me?” Therefore, because Jīmūtavāhana is predominantly peaceful and because he is very compassionate, he is a Śānta hero, like a sage who has subdued his passions. (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:146–7)

The compassion, affection and indifference to passion and pain make Rizpa a Śānta hero. Thus it has been said: “Indifferent to your own pleasure, you work hard for

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the sake of others. Or perhaps this is your natural disposition. For a tree carries on its head the most intense heat, and cools, through its shade, the heat of those who come to it for protections (from the sun)” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:148). The path of pathos can be taken as the natural disposition of Rizpa who expresses her motherly affection and compassion in an extraordinary way. Although a mood of tragedy and melancholy permeates this story, the heroic serenity of Rizpa takes the story to a level making it capable of relishing Śānta rasa and the sense of mokṣa transcending the suffering and passion. Baharata says, “People devoid of passion (take delight) in mokṣa” (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:137). None other than the great epic, the Mahābhārata, testifies to this aspect: When the great sage (Vyāsa) ends his work in such a way that it make us feel melancholy (vaimanasyadāyinī) by having the Vṛṣṇis and Pāṇḍavas all finish in a pathetic way, and shows how his book puts emphasis that (among the rasas) Śāntarasa is meant to be predominant, and (among the goals of life), mokṣa is primarily intended. (Masson and Patwardhan 1969:105)

Similarly, the story of Rizpa tells of something beyond suffering, tragedy, melancholy, etc. The path of pathos which Rizpa opted for with extraordinary valour is the result of her inner disposition (sthāyibhāva) of Śānta and mokṣa.

Dhvani (Suggestion) Appreciation of the Plot of ‘David and Goliath’ Abstract ο  The sounds that manifest sphoṭa (sound-spurt), the meaning that echoes or the meaning that ‘bursts out’, rings or reverberates are termed dhvani. ο  The theory of dhvani (suggestion) is concerned with the semantic problems of the function of words and their meanings, and its aesthetic experience. ο  Dhvani reaches out to phenomenological problems of discerning the affective response of a perspective reader. ο  In dhvani poetical ideas and descriptions are presented in a new manner so that they get a tinge of rasa. ο  Dhvani conveys a charming meaning which cannot be conveyed by ordinary speech. ο  Dhvani helps to convey such a volume of ideas that it is almost impossible to convey the same by expressed statements. ο  Dhvani reduces semantic and grammatical redundancy to an unusual level in order to communicate the incommunicable. ο  Dhvani brings rejuvenation to the old and hackneyed poetical ideas. The more familiar and the easily accessible have less appeal, whereas the new and the cryptic attract us more.

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ο  The poetical concepts such as vyañjanā (suggestion), sphoṭa (sound-spurt), alaṅkāra (figure of speech) and rasa (aesthetic relish) largely contributed to the moulding of the theory of dhvani. ο  Three types of dhvani in relation to Kāvya are: vastu dhvani, alaṅkāra dhvani, and rasa dhvani. In vastu dhvani some rare fact or idea is implied; in alaṅkāra dhvani some alaṅkāra or figure of speech is suggested; and in rasa dhvani rasa is evoked. ο  The Five Dimensions of Dhvani: (1) Dhvani in the Singular: the aesthetic value or joy of the reader; (2) Dhvani in the Plural: the emotion-feeling content described in the poem; (3) Dhvani as Suggestive: invites us to shift our attention from the suggested to the suggestive (vyañjanā) element; (4) Dhvani as Process: the process (vyāpāra) of suggestion evidenced in all good poetry; and (5) Dhvani in Entirety: The poem, which is the summation of all the above elements, is a poem of the highest order of excellence. ο  The three-fold division of meaning in dhvani based on the three-fold power of the word: (1) Abhidhā (denotation)/Abhidheya or Vācya (denoted)/Vācaka (denotative): The meaning which is conventionally ascribed to a word according to its accepted usage in the world; (2) Lakṣaṇā (indication)/Lakṣya (indicated)/Lākṣaṇika (indicative): An extended meaning inferred from a word under certain conditions, especially, when the primary sense of a particular word (or expression) is inapplicable, and inoperative; (3) Vyañjanā (suggestion)/Vyaṅgya (suggested)/Vyañjaka (suggestive): The meaning that is over and beyond its denoted or indicated senses and in addition to them, especially, when the other two functions—denotation and indication—have exhausted their capabilities of expression.

Ancient Indian poetics have earned the credit of exploring the dynamism of language beyond its denoted and indicated senses profoundly and profusely. The theory of dhvani evolved through the exploration of the symbolic, metaphorical and emotive inner-dynamism of language which ‘bursts out’ or ‘echoes’ or ‘reverberates’ meaning, in addition to its conventional denotation. However, the denotative power of the word is the physical embodiment of any work of historiography such as the Bible. “… Ānandavardhana holds that ‘denotative word’ Vācaka śabda and ‘denoted sense’ Vākya artha are necessary for ordinary descriptions, whereas ‘suggestive word’ vyañjaka śabda and ‘suggested sense’ vyaṅgya artha are to be used for poetic delineations” (Hota 2006:130). The historic characters, events, places, social-cultural-religious practices, etc. of the biblical narrative are denotative constituents of speech-manifestation and they function as a substratum for dhvani language.

An Appraisal of the Prevailing Reading of the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ (1 Sam 17) The conventional biblical scholarship has given deep thought into the subtleties of the historical and structural setting of the story of ‘David and Goliath’ (1 Sam 17)

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and has come to the conclusion that there are in this story extensive redactional manipulations and interpolations. Some see it as an act of corrupting the text and others as the poetic freedom of narrative dynamism in the reshaping and remoulding of the materials. For example, as Damrosch observes, “… the history of David’s Rise, already shows a fully ‘poetic’ reworking of historical material. Its transformation of the story of David and Goliath provides an unusually good opportunity to observe the flowering of Hebrew narrative …” (1987:192). Some even caution against the distortion caused by over-simplification: “The story of David and Goliath has been sensationalized and been used as a metaphor for myriad cases of an underdog triumphing over a superior opponent, … As a result, its true lesson as understood by the sages has been distorted beyond description” (Weinberger 2011:324). Again, this plot is deemed to be the narrative doubling of David’s introduction to the court of Saul. Already in ch. 16 David has been introduced to the court of Saul, where he makes his first appearance playing the lyre at Saul’s court and followed by his appointment as Saul’s armour-bearer. The repetition of David’s introduction as it appears in ch.17 is taken to be a contradiction and something which disrupts the narrative flow of content and form. Some other modern scholars are even of the opinion that the story of David and Goliath in 1 Sam 17 is an insertion and distorted version of the similar account of the Goliath-like Philistine warriors (including another Goliath) in 2 Sam 21:18–20. These intrusions, insertions, conflations and disruptions have traditionally been diversely understood. The main contention is that it is a deliberate attempt of court-poets to justify the dethronement of Saul and the House of Saul by David and to justify and consolidate his right of monarchical succession and power. However, this has been interpreted differently by those people who lean towards a more narrative approach, as reflected in the following quote: … the Goliath story is a key element in the reshaping of the History of David’s Rise. Furthermore, the Goliath motif is reworked by the Deuteronomistic historian when he joins the History of David’s Rise to the other material now around it. The development of the Goliath story thus provides an unusually good opportunity to observe the generic and thematic shaping involved in the creation of the overall story of the rise of the monarchy. (Damrosch 1987:195)

Thus, the story of David and Goliath has been seen as the literary maturing of the Hebrew epic narrative already underway with the Ark Narrative. In the Ark Narrative it is Yahweh and His presence in the form of the Ark who are at the forefront against the Philistines and their god Dagon; while here it is Yahweh and his presence in the form of the latent Davidic Dynasty against the Philistines and their Giant Goliath who are at the forefront. Although the approaches are

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different, the story of David and Goliath has been conceived by all as a metaphor to show the rise of David as a mighty man of valour. ‘Dhvani’ appreciation of the plot of ‘David and Goliath’ could further enhance and embellish the already existing narrative reading of the story. To embark upon such an attempt is the task of the following study. As has already been discussed above, it is an attempt to appreciate the narrative, exploring the suggestive power of language. Accepting the fact that there is thematic and generic shaping involved in the formation of the narrative before it came into the final shape as it stands now, one can see the purposive poetic purport of such an endeavour. It is not just the initial intent of the narrator/poet, but also what the text communicates when it interacts with the appreciator/reader. Such an interaction in an Indian reading of the story based on dhvani can bring the suggestive elements concealed in the text to the fore and consequently the meaning can be decoded. In such an effort, dhvani of the ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra can contribute much and provide concepts and tools to deal with. To go about this approach in view of its application to the story, this study finds it meaningful to discuss the three main types of dhvani individually. They are: vastu-dhvani (in relation to ideas and facts), alaṅkāra-dhvani (in relation to poetic figures), and rasa-dhvani (in relation to aesthetic relish).

Vastu-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ In Vastu-Dhvani, the expressed or the primary sense, by way of denotation or indication of ideas and facts (vastu), subordinates itself to the suggested sense. With regard to the story of ‘David and Goliath,’ there are many historical facts and ideas that support characterisation, plotting and storyline. They are mostly set in the expressed sense of denotation and indication. However, the work of the poetic pratibha in reshaping the narrative material leaves great potential and scope for dhvani. Those facts or ideas in the denotative realm are like a lamp which functions as substratum for the flame it carries. In the same manner, the denotative elements will avail the suggestive elements to come to light. In the narratives leading to and following the plot of ‘David and Goliath,’ the Rise of David is the recurring theme and David’s victory over Goliath is its summit. Although the denotative and indicative elements delineate this theme, its progression is best expressed in the suggestive (dhvani) elements. One such element pertaining to vastu dhvani is expounded in the following deliberation. The questions raised by the people of different ranks and relations bear dhvani of the Rise of David. Though the questions are directed to different people and their direct answers and contexts vary, they reflect a sole suggestive (dhvani) answer, which is David.

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David is the ‘Dhvani’ Answer to the Questions Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” (16:11)

Answers with Dhvani Purport

By David’s Brothers By David By the Philistine By Saul

17:36

By the Israelites

David said to Saul, “… Your Servant has killed both lions and bears; and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, since he has defied the armies of the living God.”

17:32

David said to Saul, “Your servant used to keep sheep for his father; and wherever a lion or a bear came, and took a lamb from the flock, I went after it and struck it down …”

David said to Saul, “Let no one’s heart fail because of him; your servant will go and fight with this Philistine.”

17:26

17:34, 35

Ref.

David said to the men who stood by him, “What shall be done for the man who kills this Philistine, and takes away the reproach from Israel?

17:45

Question by Whom? By the Philistine Goliath

17:55b

Saul said to Abner, “Whose son is this young man?”

17:43

The Philistine said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?”

17:29

What have I done now? It was only a question (talk).

17:28

David’s eldest brother said, “Why have you come down? … you have come down just to see the battle.”

17:25

The Israelites said, “Have you seen this man who has come up? Surely he has come up to defy Israel …”

17:8

He stood and shouted to the ranks of Israel, “Why have you come out to draw up for battle? Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul? Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me.

Ref.

David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts …”

17:58

Questions with Dhvani Purport

And David answered, “I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite.”

Saul said to him, “Whose son are you, young man?” And David answered, “I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite.” (17:58) Figure 49.  Vastu-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’.

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David was first sought after by Samuel to be the successor of Saul by raising a question: “Are all your sons here?”, to which Jesse the father of David answered: “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep” (16:11). Again, David’s first public appearance and acceptance after the victory over Goliath is kicked off by a question by Saul: “… whose son is this young man?” (17:55) or “Whose son are you, young man?”, to which David answered, “I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite” (17:58). In between these questions, one at the secret anointing and the other at the public appearance, lie many direct and indirect questions which bear the spurting and reverberation of dhvani. Whether it is a question of loyalty to the king (‘your servant’ v.34) or of fidelity and dedication to the Lord (kill the one who ‘defied the armies of the living God’ v.36) or of commitment to the people of God (‘your servant will go and fight’ v.32) or of the ability to rise to the occasion (‘what shall be done for the man who kills this Philistine’ v.26) or of relying on the unfailing providence of God and thereby on one’s own strength (‘I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts’ v.45) or of staying on one’s own roots irrespective of the pomp of victory (‘I am the son of your servant’ v.58), David is the Answer. Questions are raised in such a way that the reader can reach out to David by means of dhvani. The plot of ‘David and Goliath’ is not just a narrative account of killing the giant Goliath by the boy David, but it is far more a poetic presentation of the gradual rise of David from the secret anointing to the public debut. It is evident from the fact that the account of killing Goliath constitutes precisely only a small portion of a large narrative, i.e. only three verses (vv. 49, 50, 51) out of 58 verses of ch. 17. Much of its space is devoted to the facts leading David to this arena with Goliath and the related contexts, and responses of different people. It is a clear indication that the narrative thrust and motif is not just the act of killing Goliath, but in fact the implications of the rise of David. In that master-design, everybody—Saul the king, Israel, the enemies of Israel (the Philistines), the kinsfolk and above all Yahweh—has an important role to play, no matter whether it is positive or negative. They all are on the same interrogative trajectory, in spite of their not knowing each other. Therefore, they come up with questions in the suggestive (dhvani) manner which only David can satisfy (see Figure 50). The above illustration shows the unfolding of the plot of ‘David and Goliath’ progressing through the medium of Vastu-Dhvani. There the ideas and facts are primarily conveyed in the denotative sense; however, dhvani takes the reader to a deeper level. Raising questions which may not find answers in the primary sense, or they are found somewhere else in the story which can be traceable only through the medium of dhvani, is a special feature of ancient Indian narrative. The Bhagavad Gītā best represents such a poetic purport. The Biblical narrative can also be thus approached through the medium of dhvani.

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TYPE QUESTION

ANTITYPE ANSWER

Why have you come out to draw up for battle? Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul? Choose a man…

Yes, I am the servant and I am the man…

Have you seen this man who has come Yes, I am the man to kill the one who up? Surely he has come up to defy Israel… defies Israel… Why have you come down?… you have come down just to see the battle…

No, I have come down to fight the Philistine…

What have I done now? It was only a question…

Yes, I have done now something…asking what can be done…

Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks…

Yes, you are a dog…and in the name of the Lord of hosts, I need only a stick…

Whose son is this young man?…

Yes, my name and identity are sought after…

I am David who is anointed by Samuel… I am David whose hands know not only the strings of the lyre, but also sling and stone… I am David who wards off not only evil spirits, but also the monster Goliath… I am David who defends not only the sheep against animals, but also Israelites against enemies… I am David who has come down not to watch the spectacle of the battle, but to fight the battle and win… ………………………………………………………………… I am David, the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite. Figure 50.  Unfolding of the Plot of ‘David and Goliath’ through Vastu-Dhvani.

Alan.ka-ra-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ A poetic work which is assigned to be Alaṅkāra (figure) with suggestive elements is known as Alaṅkāra-Dhvani. It looks charming by reason of its being suggested. Many figures (alaṅkāras) can be brought under dhvani, for example, Upamā (simile), Rūpaka (metaphor), Atiśayokti (hyperbole), Samāsokti (compressed-metaphor), Śleṣa (double entendre), Ākṣepa (paraleipsis), Nidarśana (comparison), paryāyokta (periphrasis), etc. Moreover, Upamā (simile), Rūpaka (metaphor) and Atiśayokti (hyperbole) can invariably be credited to alaṅkāra-dhvani. Not all the Alaṅkāras contain dhvani, however, according to the Dhvanyāloka, they play a part in dhvani, comprising of either a bare idea or another alaṅkāra: All the expressed figures of speech are seen in poetry generally to attain the highest beauty when accompanied by a suggested element. (Dhv. III. 36)

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Those who have defined [the figures] have shown in part (ekadeśena) how the expressed figures of speech attain an extra degree of beauty when accompanied by a suggested element, whether a situation or itself a figure of speech as the case may be. But in general all these [figures of speech], if they are carefully examined in poetic literature, are seen to be of this sort … (Ingalls et al. 1990:601)

By the very fact that a poetic expression is of alaṅkāra nature, it is suggested (dhvani), notwithstanding that the suggested sense is subordinate to the expressed sense. The text here owes its beauty to the expressed sense with its consorted suggestion, which is known as Guṇībhūtavyaṅgya (dependent-suggestion). “Compositions where the suggested sense is unimportant in so far as it merely follows the expressed one are to be regarded as clear instances of dhvani, every other element such as sound and sense will be directed towards this end of contributing to the superior excellence of suggestion” (Krishnamoorthy 1968:136). But, in the alaṅkāra-dhvani, the whole poetical charm is due to the suggested figure alone, and not to the expressed one. As Krishnamoorthy points out from the Dhvanyāloka (II.28), “the moment they (alaṅkāras) partake in the element of suggestion, they shed their extrinsic nature and become intrinsic” (Krishnamoorthy 1968:148). Otherwise when the alaṅkāras constrain themselves solely to the realm of expressed sense, then they serve only as superficial ornamentation and embellishment. An example from the Dhvanyāloka with a commentary by Krishnamoorthy will avail us to have a glimpse of alaṅkāra-dhvani—one of its kind (rupakālaṅkāradhvani): Lit up are the quarters with your lustrous beauty, And your face looks charming with a smile upon it; And still, O darling, if the ocean does not swell, Obviously it is a mass of inertness. Though the idea of the moon-face is not directly stated, it is clearly suggested. It is only when the Metaphor that the lady’s lovely face is identical with the moon is understood, the passage will become fully meaningful. Much of the beauty in the passage is due to this Rupakālaṅkāradhvani. And the figure is not at all to be discovered in the explicit sense. (Krishnamoorthy 1968:106)

Dhvani can occur involving any of such kinds of figures, and the above example is one among them. A dhvani reading of the Bible as well can render the sahṛdaya (appreciator) the savouring of alaṅkāra-dhvani. This study with its limited scope will make a modest attempt to appreciate some of them occurring in the plot of ‘David and Goliath.’ Though David is the protagonist or hero of this plot (1 Sam 17), he is introduced only after a heroic entry of the antagonist and villain Goliath. A flattering description of Goliath’s appearance is an instance of alaṅkāra-dhvani:

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He had a helmet of bronze on his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail; the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels of bronze. He had greaves of bronze on his legs and a javelin of bronze slung between his shoulders. The shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron; and his shield-bearer went before him.

The above narrative segment seems to eulogise the valour of Goliath. If the reader stops by its external embellishment (alaṅkāra), then the explicit sense it conveys— that Goliath is a man of valour—will become the dominant theme of the story. But a close reading of the story will show that it is David who is intended through alaṅkāra-dhvani. While the explicit sense refers to one subject (viz. Goliath), the suggested reference is to another subject (viz. David) altogether. If we take only the primary sense of the alaṅkāra in it, we are left with no other option but to accept Goliath as protagonist and hero and his imminent victory. On the contrary, we meet David as the protagonist and hero in the subsequent story, which implies that the embellishment (alaṅkāra) pertaining to the appearance of Goliath contains suggestive elements (dhvani). Though the idea that David is a man of valour, tactics and above all, a man who strongly believes that ‘the Lord does not save by sword and spear—for the battle is the Lord’s and he will give Goliath into his hands’ (v.47)—is not directly stated in the narrative describing Goliath, it is clearly suggested. The embellishment of Goliath as a man with ‘helmet of bronze,’ ‘weighty coat,’ ‘greaves of bronze,’ ‘javelin of bronze,’ ‘shaft of spear,’ etc. will only add weight to the character and victory of another man (viz. David). A clear reference to ‘that man’ is found in the call of challenge by Goliath: ‘choose a man for yourselves’ (v.8) and ‘give me a man’ (v.10). There is already in the figures (alaṅkāras) of the said narration the dhvani of ‘the man’ Goliath refers to. Since the words of alaṅkāras are deliberately used to convey a suggested sense, the said narrative can be assigned to be Samāsokti (compressed-metaphor). A dhvani reading of the Bible will help the reader to figure out many such kinds of figures with suggestive elements.

Rasa-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath’ Dhvani theory can be deemed to be an extension of rasa and, therefore, rasadhvani occupies the highest position among all those three types and in the whole discussion on dhvani. Ānandavardhana and Abhinavagupta categorically state that

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dhvani is the only way to manifest rasa, because rasa is “an object on which no words can operate directly” (Ingalls et al. 1990:15). Dhvani language in a poetic work is interwoven by the thread of rasa and it opens up a new world where rasa is relished in the manner of realisation by the sahṛdaya (reader/appreciator). The Dhvanyāloka (II. 3) clearly delineates the nature and function of rasad-hvani: Sentiment, emotion, the semblance of sentiment or mood and their (rise and) cessation etc., are all of ‘undiscerned sequentiality’. It is decided that when we have the prominent presence of this variety, we are having the very soul of suggestion. Categories like sentiment shine forth along with the literal import. If they shine also with prominence we have the very soul of suggestion. (Krishnamoorthy 1982:41)

The prominence of rasa in a given narrative is determined on the basis of the narrator’s intention and the level of appeal to the sahṛdaya. If it is dominant in a Kāvya, then it is called rasa-dhvani; and if it is subordinate, then it is called guṇībhūtavyaṅgya. Ānandavardhana picks up a narrative piece from Kumārasambhāva, a Sanskrit play, to expound how rasa-dhvani shows up in a poetic work: While the heavenly visitor was speaking, Pārvatī, Standing with lowered face beside her father, Counted the petals of the lotus in her hand. [Kālidiāsa, Kumārasambhāva 6.84] “… in the context of the advent of spring, we have the description of events beginning with the arrival of Pārvatī wearing spring flowers for jewellery, up to the point where the god of love places an arrow on his bow and takes aim at Śiva. All this, as well as the description of the particular actions of Śiva as his calmness is stirred, is conveyed directly by words. But in the present example the rasa is apprehended through its transient state of mind, which in turn is implied by the inherent capability [of the described action of counting the lotus, etc.]. Therefore, this is a different variety of dhvani.” (Ingalls et al. 1990:311–312)

The shyness of Pārvatī is suggested, which leads to an apprehension of Śṛṅgāra rasa. Here, rasa is ‘apprehended through its transient state of mind’ and not through the power of denotation. Rasa-dhvani, therefore, is the soul of Kāvya. Approaching biblical narrative with such a point of view will be an attempt at soul-searching. Therefore, a brief application of rasa-dhvani to the story of ‘David and Goliath’ is attempted below. The juxtaposition of the narratives describing the battle-garments of Goliath (17:5–7) and those that are being tried by David (17:38, 39) cause an instance of rasa-dhvani to occur.

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1 Sam 17:5–7 Goliath, the Philistine vis-à-vis David

1 Sam 17:38, 39 David, the Goliath vis-à-vis Saul

He (Goliath) had a helmet of bronze on his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail; the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels of bronze. He had greaves of bronze on his legs and a javelin of bronze slung between his shoulders. The shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron; and his shield-bearer went before him.

Saul clothed David with his armor; he put a bronze helmet on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail. David strapped Saul’s sword over the armor, and he tried in vain to walk, for he was not used to them. Then David said to Saul, “I cannot walk with these; for I am not used to them.” So David removed them.

Figure 51.  Rasa-Dhvani Implied in the Story of ‘David and Goliath.’

Saul equips David with his armour for battle so that they match that of Goliath, described in verses 5–7 in detail. The Talmud (Sotah 42b) holds that “the purpose of describing Goliath in such detail is to praise David, who was not afraid to do battle with him” (Weinberger 2011:327). The transposition of Goliath by David brings yet deeper suggestive elements evoking rasa. Already the ancient sages have explored this aspect with similar poetic outlook: “Our Sages state that although Saul was exceptionally tall … his armour fit David perfectly. This was because when a person becomes king he grows taller. The Midrash attributes this change to the action of the anointing oil” (Weinberger 2011:348). Although David is already anointed to be the King, he does not want to give the impression that he could be a Goliath vis-à-vis Saul in the offing in respect to the throne. “The Midrash states that when Saul saw the armour fit David, he cast an evil eye upon him, because he sensed that David was being groomed for the throne. Seeing Saul’s face turn white and intuiting his evil eye, David removed the armour …” (Weinberger 2011:349). It also has other repercussions. “Each incident in David’s career is expressed in terms of his rivalry with Saul. When David defeats Goliath, Saul cannot claim a share of the credit even by supplying armour, for David can do without armour” ( Jobling 1998:91). As a result David becomes a Goliath to Saul, a theme which unfolds itself in the succeeding plots. “In his attempt to destroy his most loyal subject, Saul recreates David in the image of his monstrous double, Goliath” (Damrosch 1987:210). This narrative motif with the element of suggestion (dhvani) is also being continued through the episode of David’s Rise that follows. For example, an incident during his exile narrated in 1 Sam 21, keeps David on par with Goliath: David said to Ahimelech, “Is there no spear or sword here with you? I did not bring my sword or my weapons with me, because the king’s business required haste.” The priest said, “The sword of Goliath the Philistine, whom you killed in the valley of Elah, is here wrapped in a cloth behind the ephod; if you will take that, take it, for there is

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none here except that one.” David said, “There is none like it; give it to me.” David rose and fled that day from Saul; he went to King Achish of Gath. (vv. 9, 10)

In this way the role of Goliath has been juxtaposed with that of David and he himself rises to the occasion to meet the demands of a Goliath or is forced to get into Goliath’s shoes—a Goliath to the enemies of Israel and a Goliath in the sight of Saul. Encountering such a David-Goliath already exposed in the description of the armour and who has valour and is able to draw sympathy and admiration (“Saul has killed his thousands, and David his ten thousands” 18:7b) is the locus of rasa-relish to a sahṛdaya (reader/appreciator). The above discussion on the scope of dhvani in the application of biblical narrative proves beyond doubt that it is able to invoke and instigate the imagination and pratibha of a reader towards a deeper appreciation of the poetic elements latent and dormant in the Bible.

Alan.kāra (Embellishment) Appreciation of the Davidic Episode on the Trinity of Alan.kāras: Svabhāvokti (Natural-Speech), Vakrokti (Roundabout-Speech) and Atiśayokti (Exaggerated-Speech) Abstract ο  Bhāmah (8th c. CE) is the first exponent of this poetic school and his work on the subject is called Kāvyālaṅkāra. ο  Meanings: ‘that which adorns’ or ‘that by which something is adorned’ (etymological), ‘figures of speech’ in the technical sense, overall beauty of sound and sense (śabda and artha), theories of embellishment, etc. ο  Alaṅkāra gives kāvya literariness (Kāvyatā or Kāvyahood). ο  Alaṅkāra focuses on the decorative aspect of the poetic art. ο  Alaṅkāra evokes poetic appeal. ο  Alaṅkāra can be basically classified into śabdālaṁkāra (verbal figures) and arthālaṁkāra (semantic figures). ο  Śabdālaṁkāra: Vakrokti (Equivocation), Śleṣa (Paronomasia), Chitra (Pictorial Effects), Anuprāsa (Alliteration) and Yamaka (Rhyming). ο  Arthālaṁkāra: Vāstava (Realism), Aupamya (Comparison), Atiśaya (Exaggeration) and Śleṣa (Coalescence). ο  The function of the figures of sound and sense (alaṅkāras) contributes to enhancing the expressed sense (denotative) so that it becomes capable of conveying the suggested (dhvani) idea. ο  Poetic figures (alaṅkāras) should be employed to foster the essential content of Rasa and Bhāva. ο  The Trinity of Alaṅkāras: Svabhāvokti (natural-speech), Vakrokti (roundaboutspeech) and Atiśayokti (exaggerated-speech). ο  Svabhāvokti is the naturalistic way of expression, Vakrokti is the tortuous way of expression and Atiśayokti is the extravagant delineation. ο  Alaṅkāra theory was the first attempt to explain the nature of appeal in literature.

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As has been pointed out in the theoretical part (Ch. 3), “in Indian poetics the earliest and possibly the most sustained school that identified the locus of literariness in the ornamentation of the figures of speech is the Alaṅkāra school” (Ray 2008:14). According to this School, Kāvya-śarīra (the body of literature) is made up of śabda and artha (sound and sense); and it is figurative expression or the poetic figures of speech or the rhetorical figures, that gives beauty to them, and that is designated as the soul of literature (kāvyātman). The two important factors which go to make up the kāvya-śarīra, i.e. the ‘body’ or external framework of poetry are supposed to be śabda (word) and artha (sense), and the alaṃkaras or poetic figures which adorn these are taken as forming the essential sign of Kāvya. In other words, poetry consists of a verbal composition in which a definite sense must prevail, and which must be made charming by means of certain turns of expression to which the name of the poetic figure is given. (De 2006:353)

Thus, it has been generally acknowledged that both the figures of speech individually and the poetic beauty as a whole constitute the soul of alaṅkāra. “A very close examination of the Kāvyālaṅkāra reveals that Bhāmah has used the term alaṅkāra in two senses: (i) A figure of speech or a device designed to achieve poetic beauty, (ii) Poetic beauty itself ” (Lele 1999:54). Whichever characteristics render kāvya as attractive (kāvyaśobha) are designated as alaṅkāra by Dāṇḍin (Kāvyādarśa II.1.). He makes a distinction between vārtā (realistic or prosaic-speech) and varṇanā (poetic-speech) (Kāvyādarśa II.13). While the former is considered as śāstrokti, the latter is designated as kāvyokti, which has other interpretations such as vakrokti (roundabout-speech) or camatkāra (embellishment) as well. “Vakrokti is the natural language of all the genres of creative writing. In other words, alaṅkāra and vakrokti are synonymous” (Lele 1999:55). Ancient Indian poetics, therefore, highly esteemed alaṅkāra to be the prime factor in the evocation of poetic appeal, as literature is to appeal not to the intellectual but to the appreciative and responsive reader. However, the great proponents of this theory have already raised concern over “the surface view of alaṅkāra as concerned with empirical use of words and meaning without any inherent aesthetic goal” (Krishnamoorthy 1985:166). The figurative language should be capable of contributing to the beauty of kāvya as well as conveying the suggested idea. “The figures enhance the force of suggestion if used appropriately, or more correctly, the figures form part of the expressed idea which is capable of suggestion” (Vijayavardhana 1970:54). To achieve this goal the forms of figurative language are variously employed in terms of analogy, similarity, identity, comparison, contrast, collision, fusion, tension, etc. by creative writers of all ages and languages.

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These manifold forms which words and sentences assume were called by the Greeks Schema and by the Romans, Figura. Both words have the same meaning, viz., a shape or figure … Applied to words, a figure denotes some form which a word or sentence takes, different from its ordinary and natural form. This is always for the purpose of giving additional force, more life, intensified feeling, and greater emphasis. (Bullinger 1997: v, vi.)

In the West, the primary figure of speech employed commonly and widely is metaphor. “The Alaṅkāra in its finest manifestation has an affinity with the Western concept of metaphor” (Ray 2008:18). Thus, we can assume that the studies made on biblical metaphors, though they are nominal, pertain to the realm of alaṅkāra. The dearth of attention given to metaphor in biblical scholarship accounts for “the negative attitude toward metaphor that remained prominent from antiquity to the mid-twentieth century, an approach that tends to dismiss figurative language as ornamental, deviant, or deceptive” (Weiss 2006:20). But, a shift of perception is notable when it comes to the post-modern narratological approaches to biblical narrative. They recognized the impact of figurative language employed extensively in the biblical narrative and its poetical prominence as a powerful narrative tool. Expressive force exists in all linguistic utterances, in similes, metaphors, etc. (which should not be regarded merely as embellishments), as well as in sounds and rhythm, vocabulary, grammatical forms, syntactical structures and types of sentences. All these aspects of language may be stylistically important. (Bar-Efrat 1989:198)

In fact, it is interesting to note that already way back in 1899 Bullinger had published his extensive and sophisticated study on figures of speech in the Bible, and he was of the opinion that “no branch of Bible study can be more important, or offer greater promise of substantial reward” (1997:vi). He arrived at this conviction because “a figure denotes some form which a word or sentence takes, different from its ordinary and natural form. This is always for the purpose of giving additional force, more life, intensified feeling and greater emphasis” (1997:v). The subsequent narrative approaches to biblical poetics have further explored not only the sound and sense of the word or words, but also the laws which govern their usage and their legitimate departure from the conventional patterns of language. These efforts of the biblical narratologists can be seen on a par with the advances made by the Indian theoreticians in the sphere of alaṅkāra. A comparative outlook of both the ancient Hindu and Hebrew literary traditions in this regard will lead us to believe that they knew and made use of the great potentials of alaṅkāra or embellishment, and more precisely, figures of speech. The potentials they explored were so prolific that they encompass not merely the power of śabda and artha, but also other factors which make up a kāvya. They can be, for example,

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the narrative combinations and relations, and figures from everyday life, rather than literary sources; and vividness and complexity of figures through their indivisible association with or contrast to ideas, symbols or images. The observation made by Weiss points to the same fact: The concrete, figurative language that pervades biblical Hebrew provides a skilled storyteller with a valuable tool for forming meaningful links within a narrative and between separate episodes, developing and focusing attention on key themes, creating contrasts, and producing other effects. (Weiss 2006:215)

However, the biblical scholars find it a pity that the translations of the Bible often cannot do justice to the figurative expressions, because of “a tendency among certain biblical translators to transform the concrete, figurative language found in biblical narrative into abstract expressions” (Weiss 2006:183). Weiss shares the great concern raised by Alter in his work Genesis (1996) and gives some examples: Alter insists that by substituting abstract terms for the concrete language that pervades biblical Hebrew, modern translators end up “subverting the literary integrity of the story” … “… the rhetorical effects generated by metaphor and other tropes are muted or altogether eliminated by converting figurative utterances into abstract statements. To say that Nabal “spurned” instead of “swooped down on” David’s messengers or that the soldier will “grow faint with fear” instead of “melt” diminishes some of the potential power, complexity, and artistry of the narrative.” (Weiss 2006:219)

In spite of such flaws and fallacies occurring at the shift of figurative language in the translation of the Bible, there is the scope of alaṅkāra being employed in the appreciation of kāvya. This is being reflected upon by Fokkelman and he discusses different aspects of this issue: The Bible reader who is dependent on a translation will lose sight of some details. This is a pity, but not fatal. In a book which by definition has to leave Hebrew and Greek aside, I cannot demonstrate the sophisticated word plays and phonetic patterns regularly used by the narrator to underline his points. I cannot appeal to the effects of rhyme and alliteration, and some word repetition disappears in a translation as well … In a translation we can still observe how sentences are grouped, who is allowed to speak when, how the narrator presents his subject matter, what is the valuable object which the hero is after, what makes the characters tick, whether the events are dynamic enough, which reversal takes place, etc. (Fokkelman 1999:28)

This study is of the opinion that depending on translation, especially, in this post-modern age of communication explosion, is not a literary handicap. At the same time, reducing kāvyokti (figurative language) into Śāstrokti (language of

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statement) or into mere vārtā (prosaic-speech) should be condemned as literary distortion. More precisely, any attempt to disrobe the power and beauty of figurative language under the guise of modernisation, inculturation, contextualisation or demythologisation will have drastic consequences on the alaṅkāra of literature. “One should, however, avoid the tendency to delete or de-metaphorize figurative expressions, for figures of speech add insights, contribute impact, provide aesthetic enhancement, and can be very important in contributing in-group identification” (Waard and Nida 1986:155). In spite of such limitations imposed by translation, this study would like to explore the strength of figurative language (alaṅkāra). An appreciation of the Davidic Episode (of course, having the translated version at the disposal) based on the theory of alaṅkāra would be good enough to substantiate the above discussed points. To delimit the area of its application, the plot of Absalom seeking the counsel of Ahithophel and Hushai in the context of the dethronement of David (1 Sam 16:20–17:14), is taken. How this plot can be approached and appreciated from the diverse perspective of the Trinity of Alaṅkāra: Svabhāvokti (natural-speech), Vakrokti (roundabout-speech) and Atiśayokti (exaggerated-speech), is the matter of discussion to follow. As has been pointed out above, there are already some attempts made to re-discover the figurative and metaphorical character of biblical narrative, in which the Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel also finds an important place. For example, the plot of ‘David and the wife of Nabal’ in 1 Sam 25 has been identified as a figuratively flourished narrative by some modern narratologists. Such and other similar attempts have, in fact, showcased many aspects of alaṅkāra. This study has further come to the finding that the plot of ‘Absalom seeking the counsel of Ahithophel and Hushai’ narrated in 1 Sam 16:20–17:14, can be better appreciated, if its inherent aesthetic beauty of alaṅkāra can be identified and unfolded. A close reading of this narrative shows that Svabhāvokti, Vakrokti and Atiśayokti are poetically interwoven in order to enhance kāvyokti. As has already been mentioned in the theoretical part, although Svabhāvokti is the naturalistic way of expression, such narrative is endowed with alaṅkāra depending on the material selected and the point of view of representation, like a photograph (Ch.3); whereas Vakrokti and Atiśayokti transcend the common modes of speech—the former by way of figures of speech proper and the latter by way of extravagant expression. The whole setting of the plot itself demands a kind of vakrokti in speech, for each counsel is intended to impress Absalom and to convince him of the future course of action. Therefore, even the naturalistic way (Svabhāvokti) of narrating the future course of action is adorned with alaṅkāra. The words of counsel of both Ahithophel and Hushai are presented like a work of poetry, where words are carefully chosen and arranged. To enhance and heighten the kāvyaśobha (poetic beauty), figures of

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speech are employed here and there. In fact, both Ahithophel and Hushai compete with each other to make their speech (counsel) more endowed with alaṅkāra. As a result, we encounter a conflation of Svabhāvokti, Vakrokti and Atiśayokti in their counsel. An alaṅkāra reading of the counsels portrayed in Figure 52 will give a picture of the conflation of Svabhāvokti with other alaṅkāras. Conflation of Svabhāvokti with Other Alan˙kāras 2 Sam 17:2,3

2 Sam 17:8,10

Ahithophel said to Absalom,

Hushai said to Absalom,

I will come upon him while he is weary and discouraged, and throw him into a panic; and all the people who are with him will flee. I will strike down only the king, and I will bring all the people back to you as a bride comes home to her husband. You seek the life of only one man, and all the people will be at peace.

You know that your father and his men are warriors, and that they are enraged, like a bear robbed of her cubs in the field. Besides, your father is expert in war; he will not spend the night with the troops. Then even the valiant warrior, whose heart is like the heart of a lion, will utterly melt with fear; for all Israel knows that your father is a warrior, and that those who are with him are valiant warriors.

Figure 52.  Conflation of Svabhāvokti with Other Alaṅkāras.

Again, if alaṅkāras in the form of vakrokti and atiśayokti are individually taken, it is amazing to see that each of them forms powerful imagery which no vārtā or flat expression can produce. In Figure 53, a collection of them is given. The possible renderings of the expressions, whether alaṅkāra in the form of vakrokti or atiśayokti, have been illustrated in the Figure. They give some indication of how we can approach each alaṅkāra mode of expression. For example, the expression, “… they are enraged, like a bear robbed of her cubs in the field …” (17:8) is vakrokti in the form of simile. Instead of saying that David and his men are angry and furious, a figure of speech is employed. With one round-about speech, the whole consequence (if David is attacked by Absalom) is portrayed. Here the narrator evokes the aesthetic sensitivity and creativity of the responsive reader and focuses his/her attention on a wider canvas of alaṅkāra, which contributes to the poetic appeal. This is true in the case of all other alaṅkāra modes of expression. As Bhāmah remarks (vide supra), the figurative language of this narration depicts alaṅkāra not only in the sense of a figure of speech or a device (like the one

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Alaṅkāra-Speech

Alaṅkāra-Type Vakrokti and Atiśayokti

… you have made yourself odious to your father… (16:21)

vakrokti/metonymy

… the hands of all who are with you will be strengthened. (16:21)

vakrokti/metonymy

I will … throw him into panic… (17:2)

atiśayokti

I will bring all the people back to you as a bride comes home to her husband … (17:3)

vakrokti/simile

… they are enraged, like a bear robbed of her cubs in the field … (17:8)

vakrokti/simile

… who ever hears it will say, ‘There has been a slaughter among the troops who follow Absalom.’ (17:9)

atiśayokti

Then even the valiant warrior, whose heart is like the heart of a lion … (17:10)

vakrokti/simile

Then even the valiant warrior…will utterly melt with fear … (17:10)

atiśayokti/metonymy

… all Israel be gathered to you…like the sand by the sea for multitude … (17:11)

vakrokti/simile

… we shall light on him as the dew falls on the ground… (17:12)

vakrokti/simile

… all Israel will bring ropes to that city, and we shall drag it into the valley … (17:13)

atiśayokti

… we shall drag it into the valley, until not even a pebble is to be found there. (17:13)

atiśayokti

… the Lord had ordained to defeat the good counsel of Ahithophel … (17:14)

atiśayokti

Figure 53.  A Collection of Alaṅkāra in the Form of Vakrokti and Atiśayokti.

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given in the above Figure) designed to achieve poetic beauty, but also poetic beauty itself. The narration as a whole enhances the power of suggestion and conveys the idea forcefully. If we compare the way of counsels presented by Ahithophel and Hushai, we come to the startling realisation that the counsel of Hushai contains more powerful figures of speech and imageries than that of Ahithophel. This really helped Hushai to convince Absalom that his counsel is more sensible and practical, although in reality it is folly and absurd. Such is the power of alaṅkāra when it is properly and compellingly employed in speech. Therefore, the plot of ‘Absalom seeking the counsel of Ahithophel and Hushai’ as a whole can be taken as a battle of figures of speech where the most powerful one wins. The above discussion on the viability and workability of the theory of alaṅkāra in the appreciation of the biblical narrative has tried to see the subject from different perspectives: from the perspective of ancient and modern Indian scholars, from the perspective of the biblical scholarship of different ages and schools and their reciprocality. Some critical thought about the tendency of denial of and departure from the figurative language of the biblical narrative, especially in the matter of translation, has been undertaken. Finally, the conviction of this study that the theory of alaṅkāra could serve as a proper poetical tool to explore the rich figurative language of the biblical narrative has been categorically proved through the demonstration of the narrative segment of ‘Absalom seeking the counsel of Ahithophel and Hushai.’

Conclusion

“In order to change the course of affairs your servant Joab did this. But my lord has wisdom like the wisdom of the angel of God to know all things that are on the earth.” —(2 S am 14:20)

As this study reaches its culmination, after taking the Biblical Narrative through the avenues of the ancient Indian poetics, it is befitting to take the plot of ‘the woman of Tekoa’ (2 Sam 14:1–23), in which a story of the story is narrated, as a good analogy to draw some conclusions. This story tells much about the poetics of biblical narration. ‘In order to change the course of affairs’ she tells the story and the way ‘the course of affairs’ changes in and through the story is the subject matter of Kāvya Śāstra. To have an analogous look at some of the characters and concepts, let us hear what the story tells:   1) Now Joab son of Zeruiah perceived that the king’s mind was on Absalom.   2) Joab sent to Tekoa and brought from there a wise woman. He said to her, “Pretend to be a mourner; put on mourning garments, do not anoint yourself with oil, but behave like a woman who has been mourning many days for the dead.   3) Go to the king and speak to him as follows.” And Joab put the words into her mouth.

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  4) When the woman of Tekoa came to the king, she fell on her face to the ground and did obeisance, and said, “Help, O king!”   5) The king asked her, “What is your trouble?” She answered, “Alas, I am a widow; my husband is dead.   6) Your servant had two sons, and they fought with one another in the field; there was no one to part them, and one struck the other and killed him.   7) Now the whole family has risen against your servant. They say, ‘Give up the man who struck his brother, so that we may kill him for the life of his brother whom he murdered, even if we destroy the heir as well.’ Thus they would quench my one remaining ember, and leave to my husband neither name nor remnant on the face of the earth.”   8) Then the king said to the woman, “Go to your house, and I will give orders concerning you.”   9) The woman of Tekoa said to the king, “On me be the guilt, my lord the king, and on my father’s house; let the king and his throne be guiltless.” 10) The king said, “If anyone says anything to you, bring him to me, and he shall never touch you again.” 11) Then she said, “Please, may the king keep the LORD your God in mind, so that the avenger of blood may kill no more, and my son not be destroyed.” He said, “As the LORD lives, not one hair of your son shall fall to the ground.” 12) Then the woman said, “Please let your servant speak a word to my lord the king.” He said, “Speak.” 13) The woman said, “Why then have you planned such a thing against the people of God? For in giving this decision the king convicts himself, inasmuch as the king does not bring his banished one home again. 14) We must all die; we are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up. But God will not take away a life; he will devise plans so as not to keep an outcast banished forever from his presence. 15) Now I have come to say this to my lord the king because the people have made me afraid; your servant thought, ‘I will speak to the king; it may be that the king will perform the request of his servant. 16) For the king will hear, and deliver his servant from the hand of the man who would cut both me and my son off from the heritage of God.’ 17) Your servant thought, ‘The word of my lord the king will set me at rest’; for my lord the king is like the angel of God, discerning good and evil. The LORD your God be with you!” 18) Then the king answered the woman, “Do not withhold from me anything I ask you.” The woman said, “Let my lord the king speak.”

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19) The king said, “Is the hand of Joab with you in all this?” The woman answered and said, “As surely as you live, my lord the king, one cannot turn right or left from anything that my lord the king has said. For it was your servant Joab who commanded me; it was he who put all these words into the mouth of your servant. 20) In order to change the course of affairs your servant Joab did this. But my lord has wisdom like the wisdom of the angel of God to know all things that are on the earth.” 21) Then the king said to Joab, “Very well, I grant this; go, bring back the young man Absalom.” 22) Joab prostrated himself with his face to the ground and did obeisance, and blessed the king; and Joab said, “Today your servant knows that I have found favor in your sight, my lord the king, in that the king has granted the request of his servant.” 23) So Joab set off, went to Geshur, and brought Absalom to Jerusalem. This simple story is capable of unraveling the complexities of the poetics of the biblical narration that this study has so far deliberated upon. The characters and concepts of this story can bring us closer to the science and strategies of narration which we call ‘narratology,’ ‘poetics’ or ‘Kāvya Śāstra.’ The woman of Tekoa as the storyteller, Joab as the story-prompter, David as the recipient of the story, Absalom as the beneficiary of the storytelling, etc. enact the whole drama of poetics. Ultimately, they have to do with narrating, narratability, narrator, narrativeness and narration. First of all, every narration or ‘telling’ has a purpose to fulfill, whether it is aesthetical, eschatological, empirical or epistemological or whether it is Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti or Śāstra, from an Indian perspective. According to the woman of Tekoa’s own words, it is ‘to change the course of affairs.’ In the case of this story, it has brought about a shift in the cognition of David and consequently the defector Absalom is brought back to Jerusalem. There is an ‘Absalom’ in every act of narration who has to be brought back to the memory of the responsive reader or appreciator. When one sets out to indulge in appreciating the biblical narrative, if ‘this Absalom’ is brought to memory as well as to aesthetic appeal by means of history or historiography or any form of rhetoric, then the purpose is fulfilled. Again, the narratability or the tellability of an event, incident, idea or experience is the core of poetics. In this story, the woman of Tekoa has something to tell ‘in order to change the course of affairs.’ Ironically, it is not her story, it is Joab who has ‘put the words into her mouth’ (v.3b). Joab being aware of the potential of the very act of tellability, makes the situation conducive by preparing an appropriate person such as the woman of Tekoa to narrate the story. In the composition of a text and

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in the process of its reception, we encounter such people as Joab who create the story and the woman of Tekoa who act as carriers of the story; David and Absalom who are beneficiaries of the story. They are all exposed to the great potential of narratability or tellability. The ways and means by which they put it into language has been the point of discussion throughout this study. The four models proposed from the Indian Kāvya Śāstra contributed much to this endeavour. The above story analogously relates the nature of the speech-act, i.e. narrativeness. The woman of Tekoa is said to be wise (v.2a) and she is asked to pretend to be a mourner (v.2b). Joab brings her from Tekoa just because she is wise, so that she can narrate the story to David convincingly and pretentiously, which gives her a kind of ambiguity and roundaboutness (vakrokti). This ambiguous character of the woman of Tekoa is analogous to the true nature of kāvya (or Kāvyahood). For a narrative to be a true kāvya, it must be endowed with a kind of ambiguity and vakrokti. The Indian theoreticians will call it vakrokti (roundabout-speech); for some biblical scholars, “as an aesthetic element, ambiguity contributes to an expression’s richness” (Aaron 2001:1). In every narrative, there is the aspect of a ‘woman of Tekoa’ who has something to pretend and to conceal, and the more pretentious it is, the richer it will be in the narrativeness. Suggesting tools and devices to tackle this task of unveiling und unfolding the mysteries and ambiguities pervading the kāvya has been the concern of this study. Especially, those tools and devices which are readily available in the Indian narrative tradition, have been brought into play. This story again points to the poetic role of the narrator in the kāvya. The woman of Tekoa as a super-erzähler (storyteller) takes the course of affairs into her hands and brings about a change playing different roles. Although she is a fictitious character, her varying actantial roles1 cause a shift ‘in the course of affairs.’ This endeavour of shift involves speaking, hearing, invoking, interpreting and being resolute to draw response: “Please let your servant speak a word to my lord the king …” (v.12). “I have come to say this to my lord the king… I will speak to the king …” (v.15). “the king will hear … (v.16), “The word of my lord the king will set me at rest … (v.17). The narrator explores diverse potentials of ‘word’ or speech-act, such as denotative (Vācaka), indicative (lākṣaṇika) and suggestive (vyañjaka). Every reading of the Bible involves such an exploration assuming the actantial roles. In a way, every reader is a narrator like the woman of Tekoa and ‘the words are put into his/ her mouth’ (v.3b). But, the reader-narrator must explore the potentials of the ‘word’ and put it into action like her, ‘in order to change the course of affairs’. At this juncture Kāvya Śāstra with its literary tools and devices comes into play, thus, making the involvement of the reader-narrator more dynamic. In fact, the narration takes place not to set the woman of Tekoa at rest (“The word of my lord the king will set me at rest …”), rather the King David himself. In the woman of Tekoa there is a King

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David concealed, and vice versa. The woman of Tekoa with her various actantial roles and ambiguities is analogue to the reader-narrator. This study has been an attempt to outfit ‘her’ for proper poetic purport and relish. Now, the narration itself calls our attention to some of the main concerns of this study. In the story of the woman of Tekoa, we see that the ideas, emotions, aspirations, etc. evolve around the narration. Narration serves as a powerful tool to express them effectively and lead them into their natural ontogeny. It takes the form of poetic-speech (kāvyokti or vakrokti) endowed with aesthetic appeal (rasa), suggestion (dhvani) and embellishment (alaṅkāra), rather than mere report (vārtā), history or prosaic-speech (śāstrokti). That is why Joab resorts to the strategies of narration to bring out the emotions and the mind of King David regarding the return of Absalom. The narrator could have been satisfied with saying that a woman’s timely and wise act at the behest of Joab has made the return of Absalom back to Jerusalem possible. However, the narrator (the real author) integrates the whole story with every detail and with all requisite poetic paraphernalia. Joab is the one who explores the possibilities of the poetic purport and equips the narrator of this story (implied author)—the woman of Tekoa—with all poetic stimuli. To execute this poetic task, he brings a wise woman (v.2) from Tekoa to Jerusalem, although there are many wise men and women in Jerusalem. Likewise, the biblical narration does not lack any wise exegetical methods and conventional approaches, but at the same time, it does not exhaust the possibilities of ‘a woman of Tekoa’ who can be a tool, as she is a tool at the hands of Joab, to embark upon a different approach to it. A similar attempt, from an analogical point of view, has been made by this study by calling forth a ‘wise woman’, viz. Indian Kāvya Śāstra, in order to approach biblical narration from an extended or different point of view. This ‘wise woman’ is capable of invoking the lord (the King) who “has wisdom like the wisdom of the angel of God to know all things that are on the earth” (v.20b). Yes, indeed, the giants of biblical exegesis who are the lords of conventional wisdom could be invoked and inspired by this woman, viz. Indian Kāvya Śāstra, and offered some tools in order to change the course of affairs in the field of biblical poetics. This study has let this woman interact, mostly, with the biblical narration and, of course, with the traditional biblical scholarship, and with the modern and post-modern Narratological insights. They all may be ‘the lords of Jerusalem who have the wisdom of the angel of God to know all things that are on the earth,’ but still ‘the wise woman of Tekoa’ has a role to play in Jerusalem ‘to change the course of affairs.’ The ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra may be a Tekoa-Stranger in the ‘Jerusalem of Biblical Scholarship,’ but this study has come to the finding that it can also play a role in the poetics of biblical narration. Hoping to ‘find favour’ in the sight of Indian biblical scholarship, like Joab who ‘found favour in the sight of the King David’ for his poetic

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strategy of storytelling (v. 22), this study has proposed four poetic models, pertaining to the Indian Kāvya Śāstra in a broader sense. Those four models are churned out from the poetic kernel of Indian Kāvya Śāstra and they can be seen as the result of an attempt similar to Joab’s poetical strategy and the wise woman of Tekoa’s poetical manoeuvre. Each model approaches biblical narrative with a different strategy. Firstly, the Four-S Model towards narrative formation—Śruti, Sūtra, Smṛti and Śāstra—delineates the nature of various sprouts in the poetic growth of a narration and the way they make up a poetic whole in their diachronic dynamism. Secondly, the basic models of Indian narrative paradigms—Vedic (Cryptic), Purāṇic (Mythic) and Itihāsic (Epic)—bring home distinctive narrative artistry which came about as a result of the confluence of various narrative traditions. Thirdly, the main distinctive features of Indian Narratology—Interiorisation, Serialisation, Fantasisation, Cyclicalisation, Allegorisation, Anonymisation, Spatialisation, Stylisation and Improvisation and Elasticisaton of Time—map out the main narratological tools and devices employed by Indian literary tradition. Fourthly, three classical theories of Ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra—Rasa (Aesthetic relish), Dhvani (Suggestion) and Alaṅkāra (Embellishment)—unravel the mysteries enshrouded in literary creation, expression and reception. Joab came upon the idea of carrying out the task of sending a wise woman to David with a story by the perception of the context where, when and to whom it has to be applied: “Now Joab son of Zeruiah perceived that the king’s mind was on Absalom” (v.1). Inspired and informed by this perception, he undertakes the task of sending the wise woman. Similarly, an attempt is made in the first part of this study to introduce such a perception of Biblical and Indian literary, exegetical, linguistic, cultural, aesthetical, narratological and semantic contexts. Those areas can be brought under the broad umbrella of poetical nomenclature. This study has come to the finding that in the Indian context, they can be accommodated in the nomenclature of Kāvya Śāstra. Therefore, the Indian literary context, which makes up the main concepts of Kāvya Śāstra, has been the subject of enquiry and elucidation of the first three chapters. They give a vista of ancient Indian literary heritage and of its modern makeover, and of the literary fabrics and the raw materials that constitute Kāvya Śāstra. As has already been mentioned, this study has assumed the concept of Kāvya Śāstra not in the strict sense of ancient classical theories of poetics, but rather in a broader sense, which embraces the poetical features of various streams of ancient Indian literary sources. In spite of the fact that the scenario and the scope of those sources are so vast, this study does succeed in narrowing those narrative features down to four models without excluding their major poetical gamut.

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This study has endeavoured to explore narrative tools and devices proper to ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra for a definitive purpose. The first two chapters have already made some references to this purpose by giving an appraisal of the modern trends in an Indian reading of the Bible and the methods and approaches employed thereof. It is like the woman of Tekoa who, in the beginning of the story, makes some metonymic reference to the King David, but when the King comes to the knowledge that the story is directed to him, she totally attributes the story to David. He wants that the woman ‘does not withhold from him anything he asks her’ (v. 18). Thus, the purpose of the story is served: ‘In order to change the course of affairs.’ With regard to this study, the purpose is served and the course of affairs makes a real turn as a result of its findings, when the second part is set apart for the application of the four models to the biblical narrative. With the application, the four models reveal themselves and come to an open interaction with the biblical narration of the Davidic Episode, and, therefore, they can no more withhold anything from the Indian appreciator of the Bible and Old Testament in particular. The Books of Samuel in the Old Testament where the Davidic Episode unfolds itself with all its antecedents is the locus of the proposed models’ application. As the woman of Tekoa’s story finds its fulfillment in David making up his mind to apply the intent of the story and consequently bringing Absalom back to Jerusalem, this study finds its fulfillment when the four models guide the reader through the individual plots, characters and other literary and rhetorical artifacts for an Indian appreciation of biblical narrative. It was amazing to see that the tools and devices these models propose could bring many ‘estranged Absaloms of biblical appreciation’ back to ‘the Jerusalem of biblical scholarship.’ More precisely, the narrative discrepancies, deviations and dislocations of which the biblical narrative is accused, which brought about many estrangements, could be understood in a new perspective and appreciated; as a result the biblical narrative could enjoy a better place in the aesthetical milieu of the responsive reader or appreciator (as Absalom back in the kingly palace of Jerusalem). To materialise such a task, this study has taken the freedom to define or re-define, interpret or re-interpret the poetical concepts and motives of the Indian literary tradition. As Patnaik points out, “this is nothing strange to our (Indian) tradition. Bhartṛhari (4th century AD), an ancient philosopher of language, in his work Vākyapadīya (II.314) has said that ‘meaning of words are determined from … propriety, place and time, and not from the mere form’” (2004:10–11). Thus, those literary concepts and motives could be better adopted and accommodated in the appreciation of the Davidic Episode. From the vast body of ancient Indian literature, some anthologies, characters and narrative segments have been taken at random to illustrate and elucidate the

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biblical narrative. In addition to the theoretical schematisation of the four models in Ch. 3, abstracts or recapitulations of them are given at the beginning of every theme to be launched for application in the second part. To show the complexity and richness of thematic relations and formation of a particular plot or narrative unit, this study has resorted extensively to diagrammatic illustrations (Figures). The major portion of this study thus involves the application of the four models to the concrete texts of the Books of Samuel. That itself shows that the poetics proposed by these models is feasible and workable to engage in an Indian reading of the Bible. An Indian reading of the Bible with the tools and devices derived out of Indian Kāvya Śāstra was the focal point of this research. As a result, this study comes to the finding that such a reading is not only possible, but also needs more attention for two main reasons: firstly, the Indian ethos is married to stories, rather than dogmas and doctrines; secondly, the biblical narrative is multifarious which needs multifaceted tools and devices to deal with it. Kāvya Śāstra can take both features into account and offer the Indian reader a better understanding of the Bible. The readings offered by the existing biblical scholarship in India, influenced by its Western counterpart, have mostly been overburdened with ideological, ethical, historical and sectarian interests. Therefore, this study has been throughout the research cautious about such pitfalls and focused mainly on the aesthetical beauty and the literary richness of the biblical narrative. This approach stands closer to the Indian literary ethos and for the same reason the ideas, messages, history, etc. conveyed by the Bible will also be appreciated. Furthermore, one cannot overlook the limitations faced by this research. Since this research is limited by confining itself to providing poetical tools and devices pertaining to Kāvya Śāstra, it could not go into the details of many of the literary, cultural and historical aspects of the Indian tradition. Moreover, the extent of the literary streams, theories, schools and concepts and their critical traditions is so vast that it was impossible for this study to give them their due in the discussion. Details have been delved into only to the extent to which they were demanded by the exploration of the four models. Another limitation felt was the difficulty in rendering the Sanskrit words, concepts and expressions into English. English translations of many of them could not convey the exact meaning of the original concept in Sanskrit. Therefore, this study had to rely upon using those Sanskrit words repeatedly in the appreciation of biblical narratives. This study is also aware of the limitations it faces, as it has to depend totally on the English translation (NRSV) of the Bible, which to a certain extent fails to contain the literary nuances of the original language/s, as is the case with any translation. In spite of these limitations, this study came to the finding that the language and the literature to a great extent share a common horizon where semantics and

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semiotics can meet and interact with each other. In particular, the Hindu and the Hebrew traditions which are the main concerns of this study, have the advantage of being Oriental in outlook and approach. This has been proved by the ease and efficacy with which the four models proposed by this study fit into the poetics of the Davidic Episode. And it widens the scope for further research and exploration in the field of comparative philology, narratology, semantics and semiotics. It must be noted that this study in no way intended to minimize or underestimate the religious, ethical or the so-called ‘spiritual’ worthiness of the Bible as a religious book. Unearthing the religious and spiritual meaning though, was just beyond the scope of this study and such an undertaking would have deviated from the nature and purpose of this study. Therefore, a deliberate attempt has been made to avoid such a temptation. However, this study can proudly say that the poetical discussions supported by the four models could lead to more deep, divergent and substantive religious and ethical conclusions. Thus, it can serve a religious purpose as well. As a concluding remark, it can be substantiated that from the vantage point of ancient Indian Kāvya Śāstra, as has been proposed by this study, the biblical narrative can be seen from different angles: author-based, text-oriented and readerresponse. The illustrative and elucidative application of the canons of Indian Kāvya Śāstra to the biblical narrative, viz. the Davidic Episode in the Books of Samuel, has categorically proved that they could open up a new horizon to an Indian reading of the Bible.

chapter two

Glossary of Sanskrit Words

A abhidhā denotation abhidheya denoted Abhijñana Sākuntalam Sanskrit play by Kālidāsa (ca.1c. BCE–4c. CE) Abhinavbhāratī A commentary on Nāṭyaśāstra by Abhinavagupta (ca.10c. CE) abhiṣeka consecration ācāra practice adbhuta awesome adhárma not-dhárma Adhyatma Rāmāyaṇa spiritual version of the story of Rāmāyaṇa embedded in Brahmānda Purāṇa āgama scriptures or ‘canonical’ works Agastya one of the seven vedic sages (saptarshis) agneya consecrated to agni (fire) aham brahmāsmi I am brahman ākhyāna narration akhyayika tale/story/short narrative

akṣara immutable or alphabet Ākṣepa paraleipsis ālambana vibhāva substantial stimuli Alaṅkāra embellishment alaṅkārya that which is adorned or embellished ālasya indolence amaṣa indignation Ambikā goddess-mother Ānandavardhana (9c. CE) the author of Dhvanyāloka aṅga-aṅgī subordinate—dominant angika bodily expressions antasannivesha interiorisation anubhāva response anuprāsa alliteration anyapadesa allegorical apabhraṁśa non-grammatical/vernacular apasmāra epilepsy apauruṣeya anonymisation apsaras celestial nymph, ārathi waving oil-lamp around a person/image/deity

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ārsabharatha Indiannesss emanated from ṛsis or seers artha ‘wealth’ in the ordinary usage and ‘sense’ in poetics arthālaṁkāra semantic figures arthaśāstra political science Āśramas the four stages of life and their duties aśrupāta weeping asūya envy atiśaya exaggeration atiśayokti hyperbolic/exaggerated-speech Ātman the Self aucitya propriety Aucityavicāra-caracā Kṣemendra’s (11c. CE) work on poetics aupamya similitude/comparison autsukya impatience avahitthatā dissimulation āvega agitation ayana stories or adventures ayurvéda science of life

B Bālakānda the book of childhood/the first episode of Rāmāyāṇa bhagavad of the Lord Bhagavad Gītā ‘song of the Lord’/a part of Mahābhārata bhagavan deity bhagavata related to divine/sacred bhajana adoration/Hindu devotional song bhakta devotee bhakti mārga devotion-path bhaktiyoga religious devotion bhāṣya commentary bhāva mental state/emotive mood/ psycho-physiological state bhavisyad future/prophecies bhaya fear bhayānaka terrifying bheda contrast/difference bībhatsa disgusting

Brahma the ultimate reality acc. to Véda brahmacharya the student phase/chastity brahmanas the priestly class brahmanda joy in Brahman brihatkatha great narrative

C cakravartin universal ruler camatkāra embellishment caṃpū literature comprised of both prose and verse capalatā inconstancy chitra pictorial effects Cilappatikaram the tale of an anklet/one of the five great epics of Tamil literature, written by Ilango Adigal (2c. CE) cintā anxiety

D dainya depression danavās monsters darśan seeing/audience/auspicious sight darśanas six systems of thought in the ancient Hindu philosophy darśan dena give darśan darśan lena take darśan Daśrūpa Dhanjaya’s (10c. CE) work on poetics Deva the Divine/deity dhárma right living/righteousness/morality Dhárma-Śāstras the treatises and codes for right living Dhárma Sūtras the first four texts of the Dhárma-Śāstra literary tradition in the form of pithiness dhármic pertaining to dhárma dhīraśānta heroic serenity dhīrodātta the act of valour ‘dhri’ to sustain or to uphold dhṛti contentment

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dhvani suggestion Dhvanyāloka (9c. CE) Ānandavardhana’s work on poetics dhvanyātmaka rūpakam suggestive allegorisation dhyana meditation/contemplation dipaka illuminator

G garuḍa eagle garuḍa-dhvaja the eagle-bannered gītā song glāni weakness grava arrogance grihastha the householder stage guṇa-doṣa poetic excellence-poetic flaw guṇībhūtavyaṅgya dependent-suggestion

H harṣa joy hāsa laughter hāsya comic Hṛdayadarpaṇa Bhaṭṭa Nāyaka’s (10c. CE) work on poetics

I iha and para here and distant Itihāsic ‘thus-indeed-it-was’ or ‘thus-verily-happened’/epic itihāsic epical itivrtta history

J jaḍatā stupor japa muttering prayers

Jātakas the Pāli texts of the stories of former births of Buddha jñāna mārga wisdom-path jñañayoga self-realisation by attaining wisdom jugupsā disgust/revulsion jyotisha astrology

K kāla the concept of time/root word ‘kāl ’ means to calculate or count kāma desire/pleasure/sensual or erotic desire Kāmaśāstra literary works on kāma karma action/deed/spiritual principle of cause and effect karma mārga work-path karuṇa compassionate Kathasaritsagara (11c. CE) ‘ocean of the streams of stories’/a compilation of lively tales of wisdom, wit and delight Kauravas the descendants of King Kuru/one branch of the royal family of Purus kavi author/poet Kāvyādarśa Dāṇḍin’s (8c. CE) work on poetics kāvya darśana poetic, yet philosophic Kāvyakautuka Bhaṭṭa Tauta’s (10c. CE) work on poetics kāvyakriyā the act of producing kāvya kāvyālaṅkarā the ornaments of poetry or a figure of speech Kāvyālaṅkāra the works on poetics by Bhāmah (8c. CE) and Rudrata (9c. CE) Kāvyālaṅkārasaṁgraha Udbhaṭa’s (8c. CE) work on poetics Kāvyālaṅkārasūtra Vamana’s (9c. CE) work on poetics Kāvyamīmāṁsā Rājaśekhara’s (10c. CE) work on poetics Kāvyānuśāsana Hēmacandra’s (10c. CE) work on poetics Kāvyaprakāśa Mammata’s (11c. CE) work on poetics

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kāvyāśarīra the body of literature Kāvya Śāstra the science of literature/poetics kāvyaśobha poetic beauty kāvyātman the soul of literature kāvyokti figurative language khudga scorch kirtana hymn koodiyattam the traditional presentation of Sanskrit drama in Kerala Krauñcha heron/the bird in the krauñchavadha episode of Rāmāyaṇa krauñchavadha the murder of krauñcha kriyākalpa the procedure of how a kāvya is to be composed krodha anger kshatriya the warrior class kul-dhárma duties of a clan Kumārasambhāva a Sanskrit epic poem by Kālidāsa (5c. CE) kurma tortoise Kurukshethra the place of the epic battle of Mahābhārata

Manavantaras the ages of the different human ancestors Mantras sacred utterance/sacrificial formula maraṇa death Mārkaṇḍeya an ancient ṛsis (seer) in Purāṇas mati assurance matsya fish Mīmāṁsā ritualistic interpretation of the Védas Mitrá vedic deity of covenant, contract, oath or friendship Mitra-dhárma duties of the friend moha distraction mokṣa spiritual liberation muktakas kāvya of four-lined stanzas

N

lakṣaṇā indication lākṣaṇika indicative lakṣya indicated linga gender/genesis Lopamudra the wife of the vedic sage Agastya (1c. BCE)

nābhi navel Naradiya relating to sage Narada in Purāṇas and epics Nāṭyaśāstra a treatise on drama and dramaturgy by Bharata (1c. BCE) nāyaka leader/hero Nidarśana comparison nidrā sleeping nirvana final liberation nirvéda disgust/not scriptural niṣkāma desireless/unselfish nyāya logical inference/justice

M

P

mada intoxication Mahābhārata (ca. 400 BCE–400 CE) one of the two great Sanskrit epics of ancient India by Vyāsa Maha Kāvya Grand Narrative Mahiṣa buffalo Mahiṣāsura a demonic being who can change the form between buffalo and human

padārtha-mīmāṁsā inquiry into the nature of substances or the categories of knowledge padma lotus-hued one Paiśācī literary language of antiquity of the middle kingdoms of India pañcalakṣaṇa the five defining marks pañcama véda the Fifth Véda (Nāṭyaśāstra) Pañchatantra five principles/animal fables in original Sanskrit (3c. BCE)

L

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Pāṇḍavas sons of Pānḍu/one branch of the royal family of Purus Paramartha final goal paryāyokta periphrasis phalaśruti benefits of listening/hearing pooja veneration/worship prabandhas full-scale discourses praja-dhárma the duties of the people prakaranas episodes Prākṛta vernacular/unrefined/primordial Middle Indo-Aryan languages prakṛti natural state of mind pralaya flood (‘fainting’ as one of the eight Sāttvikabhāvas) prāmāṇya-mīmāṁsā inquiry into the validity of critical statements pratibha genius/creativity/intelligence prati-sarga regeneration of creation prāyaścitta penance prayojana purpose purāṇa primitive/ancient/old/saga Purāṇas 18 Purāṇas: Bhagavata, Padma, Vaisnava, Naradiya, Garuda, Varaha, Matsya, Kurma, Linga, Vayu, Skanda, Agneya, Brahmanda, Bhrahma-vaivarta, Markandeya, Bhavisyad, Vamana and Brahma purāṇic mythic Pururavas the ancestor of Kauravas and Pāṇḍavas puruṣārtha ends or aims of human life/four statuses of life

R Raghuvamsa stories related to the dynasty of Raghu/Sanskrit epic poem by Kālidāsa (ca.5c. CE) rāja-dhárma duty of a king/state rākṣasas demons Rāmāyaṇa (ca. 4c. BCE) one of the two great Sanskrit epics of ancient India by Vālmīki/the story of Rāma rasa aesthetic relish/a theory of Kāvya Śāstra Rasagaṅgādhara (17c. CE) Paṇditarāja Jagannātha’s work on poetics

rasāsvāda argument on aesthetics/ appreciation rati delight/erotic love raudra furious Ṛgvéda (ca. 15c. BCE) Véda of praise/the most ancient sacred book of Hindus rīti style/a theory of Kāvya Śāstra romāñcha horripilation ṛsis seers ṛta rhythm of being rūpaka metaphor

S Śabda sound Śabdālaṁkāra verbal figures Śabda-mīmāṁsā inquiry into the nature of language sādhanā perfect bliss and pure consciousness sādhāraṇa dhárma general/universal dhárma sadhu saint/holy man sādṛṥya resemblance sāhita coherence or togetherness Sāhityadarpaṇa Viśvanātha’s (14c. CE) work on poetics sāhitya rasāsvāda literary appreciation sāhiṭyavidya another term for Kāvya Śāstra or the science of literary criticism or poetics sahṛdaya good hearted/appreciator Śakti power/energy śama quietude and equanimity Samāsokti compressed metaphor sāṁkhya numeral/enumeration/one of the six orthodox schools of Indian philosophy samskāra culture saṃskrṭa refined/adorned/sophisticated saṃskṛti culture sanāthana dhárma absolute/eternal dhárma sancāribhāva transitory state/mood Śanka apprehension sannivesha placement śānta serenity/repose/tranquillity sannyasa asceticism sannyasin ascetic

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Saraswathikandabharanam Bhojadeva’s (11c. CE) work on poetics sarga nature/natural property/creativity sarvam khalvidam brahma all of this is brahman Śāstra science/treatise/theory/scripture śāstrokti enjoined by śāstra/language of statement sāttvikabhāvas physical effects resulting from emotion Shantiparvam 12th episode of Mahābhārata shara shayya bed of thorns shudra the worker class ṥilpa sculpture sinddhānta doctrine Skanda another name of Kartikeya, a son of Shiva and Pārvatī śleṣa paronomasia/coalescence Śloka verse/poetry smṛti recollection/remembrance/tradition Śoka sorrow/anguish soma camphor/Soma plant/drug of supposed magical properties sphoṭa sound-spurt/burst sphoṭavāda the doctrine of sphoṭa Śrama weariness/toil śṛṅgāra love/erotic sentiment/sexual passion Śṛṅgāraprakāśa Rājā Bhoja’s (11c. CE) work on poetics srnkhala chain/fetter śruti esoteric hearing stambha paralysis sthāyibhāva permanent emotive states/mood stupa dreaming sūtra aphoristic svabhāvokti matter-of-fact; natural-speech svarbhaṅga change of voice svéda sweating

T tatvadarśana empirical perception of reality tharkaśāstra logic/philosophic treatise trāsa fright/anxiety

U udaaharana illustration/example uddīppana vibhāva enhancer stimuli ugratā cruelty unmada insanity upākhyānas sub-narratives upamā simile uparisannivesha exteriorisation Urvasi one born from Lord Vishnu’s thighs/a celestial maiden (apsaras) in Indra’s court utsāha enthusiasm/zeal/heroism

V vācaka denotative vācikābhinaya drama vācya denoted vag-yogavid the one who knows the secret of words vaimanasyadāyinī melancholy vairāgya detachment vaiśeṣika atomism vaishya the agricultural or merchant class vaisnava relating or belonging to Vishnu vaivarṇya change of colour/diversity vāk logos vākika that are expressed by words/surface meaning vakrokti roundabout/deviance/equivocation Vakroktijīvita Kuntaka’s (11c. CE) work on poetics vākya denoted or primary Vālmīki ant-hill/author of the epic Rāmāyaṇa vamana dwarf vaṃśānucarita the history of the lunar and solar dynasties of kings vanaprastha the stage of retirement/man who has retired into forest to lead a secluded life of prayers varaha boar/relating to the boar form of Vishnu

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varṇa the rules of the class-based social system/any one of the four traditional social classes of India varnamala the wreath of letters/alphabets varṇanā poetic-speech varṇāśrama dhárma four paths of life vārtā matter-of-fact expression/prosaic-speech varuna oceanic/relating to the god of water vāstava realism/naturalism vastu matter of fact/natural disposition vastuśāstra science of architecture vatsa offspring/breast vatsa bhāva motherly endearment vayu air/breath/wind véda knowledge/sacred knowledge/wisdom védanta end of the véda/Upaniṣads/works on the védanta philosophy Védas (ca. 15c. BCE) the oldest scriptures of Hinduism vepathu trembling vibhāva stimuli vibodha awakening vīra valour/heroic virodhī-avirodhī contrary—non-contrary viṣāda despair vismaya wonder/astonishment vitarka deliberation vrīḍā shame

Vṛṣṇis an ancient Indian clan/Kṛṣṇa belongs to Vṛṣṇi clan vṛtra the enveloper/a serpent or dragon vruṣṭi rain/shower Vyabhicāribhāvas transitory states vyādhi sickness Vyaktiviveka (11c. CE) Mahimabhaṭṭa’s work on poetics vyaṅgya suggested vyañjaka suggestive vyañjanā suggestion vyāpāra process Vyāsa width and breadth/compiler/the author of Mahābhārata (3c. BCE) and the one who classified the Védas vyavahāra procedure

Y yajña sacrificial ritual/offering/act of worship or devotion Yama twin/a god of death belonging to Ṛgvédic deities yamaka pun/rhyming Yami associated with yama, her twin brother yoga union/techniques for meditation and transcendence yugas epoch or era

Notes

Introduction 1. In the strict sense of classical Sanskrit Poetics, Kāvya “is distinguished from three other branches of composition: (1) scriptures or ‘canonical’ works āgama; (2) traditions or history Itihāsic; (3) systematic treatises on any subject Śāstra.” (Warder 1989 (vol. 1): 1)

Chapter One 1. The word Vyāsa also means split, differentiate, arrange, distribute or describe. The sage Vyāsa is here represented not as the author but as the arranger or the compiler of the Védas, the Itihāsics and the Purāṇas. Traditional Hindu belief is that Vyāsa categorised the primordial single Véda into four, so “Splitter of the Védas.” The “splitting” being an effort which permitted people to understand divine knowledge of the Véda was to be viewed as something positive, not as an act of distortion, which historical critiques say about the formation of biblical literature. 2. This trend has been critically evaluated by Prof. George M. Soares-Prabhu, who was one of the pioneers of an Indian approach to biblical exegesis and I myself was a student of his in Pune. He argues: “His (Indian seminary Professor’s) theology and exegesis, when it is not mere theological reporting, operates on borrowed models, usually (like the armaments sold by the Great Powers to the Third World) last year’s models; for theological trends take time to cross the sea.” (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 2): 9)

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3. This document provides in its endnote (1) the logic behind the categorisation as ‘method’ and ‘approach’: By an exegetical method, we understand a group of scientific procedures employed in order to explain texts. We speak of an approach when it is a question of an inquiry proceeding from a particular point of view. (“The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church,” Pontifical Biblical Commission to Pope John Paul II on April 23, 1993, Online Source, Origins, January 6, 1994). 4. Breaking the history of biblical exegesis into pre-critical, critical and post-critical by some theologians itself shows the paramount concern over Historical-critical method in recent years. But such verbal construction is no less biased and is also viewed with suspicion. 5. The quest for new ways got momentum, gaining spirit and orientation from such polemics, and there erupted numerous methods, models, approaches, analytical tools and devices in the realm of biblical exegesis. They were born and brought up mostly around the ambience of secular studies as the offshoots of ‘human sciences’ such as sociology, psychology, anthropology, existential philosophy, linguistics, semiotics, cultural science, literary criticism, narratology, etc. The pioneering work of Brevard Childs’ ‘Biblical Theology in Crisis’ in 1970 opened up the discussion, throwing suspicion on historical-critical method’s efficacy. Then Hans Frei’s ‘Eclipse of Biblical Narrative’ (1974) followed suit, paving the way for Gerhard Maier’s ‘Das Ende der historisch-kritischen Methode’ (1974) and for Walter Wink to declare, ‘historical Criticism is bankrupt’ (1975). 6. Soares-Prabhu remarks on the critics’ syndicate operating with the emergence of the Historical Critical Method: “He (the exegete) has become responsible to the guild of his fellow scholars, for whom he writes, and whose approval he urgently seeks in his desperate attempt to survive in the highly competitive jungle (‘publish or perish’) which the academic world has inevitably become in the competition driven consumer-capitalist society of the West” (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 2): 9). 7. The exegetical method proposed by Soares-Prabhu for India: Ruling out the Historical Critical Method he proposes the hermeneutical method as a viable alternative. The hermeneutical method, he suggests, consists of a three-dimensional reading: a religious reading, a social reading and an inter-textual reading (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 2):xv). 8. Hence it should not be the poverty as per the norms of the Capitalists the main concern of the Indian biblical interpretation. Soares-Prabhu thus argues: “This particular dimension of Indian interpretation (poverty and commitment to the poor) has been treated so thoroughly and so perceptively by the liberation theologians of Latin America, that it would be pointless to duplicate their efforts here. It is certainly part of the Indian horizon, and is to be fully accepted as such. But an Indian hermeneutic must take note of other dimensions of the Indian situation as well.” (Padinjarekuttu 1999 (vol. 4): 35) 9. “In the late nineteenth century Brahmabandhab Upadhyay (1861–1907), an influential Bengali-Brahmin convert to the Roman Catholic faith, devoted the last decade or so of his life to trying to show that he was both Hindu and Catholic. For him to be Hindu was to have a certain kind of cultural and intellectual orientation, not a particular set of theological beliefs. Today in India a significant number of Christians, both Catholic and Protestant, are inclined to make similar claims” (Lipner 2010:15). 10. When Alan Sealy, writing in English, adopts a model for his narrative from Kalidasa’s Rtusamhara, it is a great occasion for celebration: the pattern of six seasons providing a model for the narration of a story in the novel form (Paniker 2003 (IN): 153).

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11. Varṇāśrama-Dhármas is a combination of two systems: Varṇas and Āśramas. The four Varnas: the priestly (brahmana) class, the warrior (kshatriya) class, the agricultural or merchant (vaishya) segments of society, and finally the worker (shudra) segments of society. Four stages of life called āśramas: the student phase (brahmacharya), the householder (grihastha) stage, the retirement (vanaprastha) stage of life and complete renunciation (sannyasa). In this way, human life and society are directly related to the cosmic body of the universe and are meant to maintain the order in life and society, and thereby cosmic order. That is an act of dhárma. 12. The six Darśanas are: (1) Vaiśeṣika or Atomism, (2) Nyaya or Logic, (3) Sāṁkhya or the enumeration of the various cosmic principles, (4) Yoga or techniques for meditation and transcendence, (5) Mimamsa or ritualistic interpretation of the Védas, and (6) Védanta or metaphysical speculation.

Chapter Two 1. “Kāvyam sastrethihasavcha kāvyasastram thadhaiva cha.” Kāvyethihas: sastrethihasasthathapi shadvidham. 2. Kriyā is in the sense of kāvyakriyā, and which means the act of producing kāvya and therefore kriyākalpa may mean the procedure of how a kāvya is to be composed. 3. The word Alaṅkāra is used in two senses: a thing of beauty and a figure of speech. It is so called since it expounds the things of beauty in a kāvya. 4. The word Sāhitya is employed in different senses: (1) literature in general (kāvya is the quintessence of Sāhitya); (2) the science of poetics; (3) śabda (sound) and artha (sense) together. 5. avalokya matāni satkavinam avagamya svadhiyā ca kāvyalakṣna Sujanāvagamāya bhāmahena grathitaṃ rakrilagomisūndaram. 6. There are critics, on the other hand, who strongly believe that the contemporaneous literary works in vernacular languages garnered the least attention from the Sanskrit literary theorists and the use of Prākṛta dialects were allowed by them only in the speeches of women and low characters (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 32). 7. There is clear evidence from which we can draw the conclusion “that Poetics as a technical discipline must have been of comparatively late origin, and probably began to develop in the first few centuries of the Christian era. With the flourishing of Sanskrit learning and literature in the 4th and 5th centuries under the Gupta emperors, its development probably proceeded apace …” (De 2006:12). 8. “From internal evidence as well as from the testimony, which admits of little doubt, of some of the ancient authorities on Poetics, it is clear that the theoretical background of the discipline was, to some extent, founded on the philosophical speculations on linguistics, so that Grammar, one of the oldest and soundest sciences of India, was its god-father and helped it towards ready acceptance” (De 2006:7). 9. The work of Ferdinand de Saussure concerning linguistics is generally considered to be a starting point of 20th century structuralism. His initiative gave thrust to the linguistic researches which appeared in different parts of the world: For example, in America: Leonard Bloomfield; in Denmark: Louis Hjelmslev; in Norway: Alf Sommerfelt; In France: Antoine Meillet and Émile Benveniste; Prague School: Roman Jakobson and Nikolai Trubetzkoy.

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10. This approach is marked by the scientific examination of the various elements of language present in a text related to each other ‘synchronically,’ rather than ‘diachronically.’ 11. From Saussure’s classic dichotomy of ‘signifier’ and ‘signified’ derived a major theory associated with Structuralism known as binary opposition. This theory proposes that there are certain theoretical and conceptual opposites, often arranged in a hierarchy, which structure a given text. Such binary pairs could include, for example: storydiscourse, narratednarrating (récithistoire), malefemale, speechwriting, rationalemotional, etc. 12. “Discourse narratology analyzes the stylistic choices that determine the form or realization of a narrative text (or performance, in the case of films and plays). Also of interest are the pragmatic features that contextualize text or performance within the social and cultural framework of a narrative act. Story narratology, by contrast, focuses on the action units that ‘emplot’ and arrange a stream of events into a trajectory of themes, motives and plot lines” (Manfred 2005: Version 1.8, N2.1.3). 13. Jakobson (1896–1982) was born in Russia of Jewish descent. As a student he was a leading figure of the Moscow Linguistic Circle and later he was influenced by Ferdinand de Saussure. He relocated to Prague where he became one of the founding fathers of the Prague School of linguistic theory along with Vilém Mathesius, Nikolai Trubetzkoy, René Wellek and Jan Mukarovsky (Information collected from Wikipedia on the Internet). Prague School structuralism lies mainly in phonemics. It seeks to examine the relation of the sounds that occur in a language and it tries to analyze the inventory of sounds in a language in terms of a series of contrasts. 14. “Moreover, a number of wide-ranging changes or ‘turns’ in literary and cultural theory have been conducive to fostering interest in both Narratology and the cultural and historical significance of narratives. These complex changes in the theoretical and critical climate, which have been dubbed ‘cultural turn’ (Schmidt, Vosskamp), ‘historical turn (Fluck), ‘anthropological turn’ (Schlaeger), ‘ethical turn,’ ‘moral turn,’ and ‘narrativist’ or ‘narrative turn,’ have greatly increased interest in what Bruner (1991) has called ‘The Narrative Construction of Reality’” (Nünning, in Kindt and Müller (eds.) 2003:240). 15. Some examples of the proliferation of Narratology: Structuralist Narratology, Postclassical Narratology, Socio-narratology, Psycho-narratology, Feminist Narratology, Contextualist Narratology, Transmedial Narratology, Pragmatic Narratology, Ethnic Narratology, Meta-narratology, Cognitive Narratology, Linguistic Narratology, Phenomenological Narratology, Comparative Narratology, Applied Narratology, Diachronic Narratology, etc. 16. “A totalizing concept puts all phenomena under one explanatory concept (e.g. it’s the will of God). An essentialist concept suggests that there is a reality which exists independent of, beneath or beyond, language and ideology—that there is such a thing as ‘the feminine,’ for instance, or ‘truth’ or ‘beauty.’ A foundationalist concept suggests that signifying systems are stable and unproblematic representations of a world of fact which is isomorphic with human thought.” (Lye 2008). 17. “… structuralist Narratology was a more or less unified discipline which was interested mainly in the synchronic dimension of the poetics of narrative, evading both moral issues and the production of meaning (cf. Ginsburg/Rimmon-Kenan 1999:71), most of the new approaches that have been subsumed under the wide umbrella of the term ‘postclassical narratologies’ represent interdisciplinary projects which display a keen interest in the changing forms and functions of a wide range of narratives and in the dialogic negotiation of meanings” (Nünning, in Kindt and Müller (eds.) 2003:244–245).

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18. ‘Story’ refers to the actual chronology of events in a narrative; discourse refers to the manipulation of that story in the presentation of the narrative. These terms refer, then, to the basic structure of all narrative form. 19. Ferdinand de Saussure, the originator of the 20th century reappearance of structuralism, argued that linguistic signs were composed of two parts: a signifier (the sound pattern of a word, either in mental projection—as when we silently recite lines from a poem to ourselves—or in actual, physical realisation as part of a speech act), and a signified (the concept or meaning of the word). This was quite different from previous approaches which focused on the relationship between words on the one hand and things in the world that they designate, on the other. (Evidence of this can be found in Course in General Linguistics, written by Saussure’s colleagues after his death.) 20. Fabula refers to the chronological sequence of events in a narrative; sjuzhet is the re-presentation of those events (through narration, metaphor, camera angles, the re-ordering of the temporal sequence, and so on). The distinction is equivalent to that between story and discourse, and was used by the Russian Formalists, an influential group of structuralists. 21. A narrator is the speaker or ‘voice’ of the narrative discourse (Genette 1980 [1972]: 186). He or she is the agent who establishes communicative contact with an addressee (the ‘narratee’), who manages the exposition, who decides what is to be told, how it is to be told (especially, from what point of view, and in what sequence), and what is to be left out. If necessary, the narrator will defend the ‘tellability’ of the story (Labov 1972) and comment on its lesson, purpose or message. 22. “… in written narrative, certain features and combinations of the linguistic signs making up the narrative constitute signs of the narrating (or narrating, for short): they represent the narrating activity, its origin and its destination. Other features and combinations constitute signs of the narrated (or narrated for short): they represent the events and situations recounted” (Prince 1982:7). 23. Plato distinguishes between lexis (the manner of speaking) and logos (that which is said, the thought content). Under the category of lexis he locates diegesis, or simple narration by a poet in his own words, and mimesis, which is an imitation in direct discourse of another speaking. 24. Pratt defines the location of narrative in the context of the author/reader relationship and seeks to understand, in a broad sense, what occurs in an event of narration. In contrast to standard speech acts, such as asserting or representing, she characterizes an act of naration as “verbally displaying a state of affairs” (Pratt 1981:73). 25. parole: specific instances of spoken language; langue: the idealized abstract grammar relating all the specific instances of speech. 26. Narrative has been mainly used in the theoretical sense, while story signifies concreteness and storytelling.

Chapter Three 1. “Plato uses this term in several different ways, and this makes it difficult to translate. Since the Greek word mimēsis originally signified ‘miming’ or ‘acting like’ someone (or something) in speech or in action, it is often translated as ‘imitation’. But Plato turns this word

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into a technical term, and gives it a much broader range of meaning. He re-conceived mimēsis in philosophical terms: in its primary sense, it is the artistic representation—be it visual or verbal—of agents and events in the world. The literary author ‘imitates’ or, more precisely, ‘represents’ these things in the medium of language” (Waugh 2006:38). 2. Paniker writes about his book Indian Narratology: “This monograph presents the result of the research undertaken by me with a fellowship from the Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts, New Delhi” (2003:Preface). Since there is another book (Interiorization) by Paniker published in the same year, the reference to them in this study will be (IN) and (Int) respectively. 3. For example, Tirukkural by Tiruvalluvar—the southern counterpart of the Védas, Kuruntokai of Sangam period, etc. 4. Aitareya Brahmana (6.17) of the Ṛgvéda deals with this point (Sastri 1988: 54). 5. Purāṇa means in Sanskrit ‘old’ which is just opposite to the term ‘novel’ in the West. There are 18 Purāṇas and in which Bhagavata is outstanding. The other Purāṇas in addition to Bhagavata are: Padma, Vaisnava, Naradiya, Garuda, Varaha, Matsya, Kurma, Linga, Vayu, Skanda, Agneya, Brahmanda, Bhrahmavaivarta, Markandeya, Bhavisyad, Vamana and Brahma. 6. “In experimental western fiction of the twentieth century, the notion of time was not a rigid one: Marcel Proust, James Joyce and Virginia Woolf had a more elastic idea of narrative time than Charles Dickens or William Makepiece Thackeray or Thomas Hardy” (Paniker 2003 (IN): 14–15). 7. Vyāsa in the Sanskrit language means the diameter or extension. 8. The Sanskrit term used for Anonymisation is Apauruseya. Apauruseya can be understood as ‘not personal,’ ‘impersonal,’ ‘universal’ or ‘collective.’ 9. “Bharata’s Nāṭyaśāstra (of the first centuary B.C. to first centuary A.D.) is a unique work which sets the ground and the parameters for Sanskrit aesthetic theories. Since the Védas were out of bounds to women and the lower castes, the Nāṭyaśāstra, a treatise on drama and dramaturgy was called pañcama véda, the Fifth Véda, accessible to one and all … He articulates his dramatic method which defines the process of impersonalization that the emotions undergo in theatre in order to get to the status of rasa. Since then the notion of transforming emotions into rasa has become the central focus of early Indian poetics” (Sharma 2008 (vol. 2): 21). 10. Here are some frequently quoted verses from the notable poetical works on rasa since Bharata: “nahi rasadate kascidapyarthah pravartate” No meaning can proceed from speech in the absence of Rasa. (Bharata, Nāṭyaśāstra VI. 31) “rasa eva vastuta atma vastvalamkara dhvani tu sarvatha rasam prati paryavasyete” Rasa basically is the soul, the two other elements of suggestion, those of astu and alaṅkāra become poetry only when they remove themselves into the suggestion of Rasa. (Abhinavagupta, Dhvanyāloka, 85) “kavin prabandham—upanibadhnata sarvatmana rasa—paratantre na bhavitavyam”  While writing poetry, a poet should completely subordinate himself to Rasa. (Abhinavagupta Dhvanyāloka, 183).

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“śabdarthau te sarriram … rasa aima” The word and meaning are the body and Rasa is the soul. (Rājaśekhara, Kāvya Mīmāṁsā, III 6) “kāvyasyatmani sanjnini rasadi-rupe na kasyacid vimatih” Nobody can dispute that the soul of poetry is Rasa. (Mahimabaṭṭa, Vyaktiviveka, I. 118). “vakyam rasatmakam kāvyam” A sentence, the soul of which is Rasa. (Viśvanātha, Sāhiṭya Darpaṇa, I. 23). 11. “ratir hasas ca sokas ca, krodhotsahu bhayam tathajugupsa vismayas ceti sthyibhāvan prakirtitah” (Love, laughter, grief, anger, fortitude, fear, disgust and wonder, these are known as Sthayibhāvas) ( Jagannātha, Rasa Gaṅgādhara, 37). Śama (quietude and equanimity) is considered as ninth Stāyibhāva, but believed to be later interpolation. 12. In NS VI 70 Bharata enumerates various such physical changes which can accompany each of the stāyibhāvas. 13. Abhinavagupta’s theory of manifestation of rasa is found in Abinavabhāratī, Chapter VI (GOS Edition (vol. I) 274–287). 14. Here are some frequently quoted verses from the Dhvanyāloka which serve as the basis for all later deliberations on dhvani. Translations are taken from Sreekantayah 2001: yatrarthah sabdo va tamarthamupasarjanikrtasvarthau | vyanktah kāvyavisesah sa dhvaniriti suribhih kathitah ||1.13|| That kind of poetry in which the (denoted) meaning or the (denoting) word makes itself subservient and reveals the suggested sense is called dhvani by scholars. pratiyamanam punaranyadeva vastvasti vanisu mahakavinam | yattatprasiddhavayavatiriktam vibhati lavanyamivanganasu ||1. 4|| In the words of great poets there is a meaning cognized separately (from the literary meaning). It shines like the beauty of fair women which is clearly distinct from that of their individual limbs. śabdarthasasanajnanamatrenaiva na vedyate | vedyate sa tu kāvyarthatattvajnaireva kevalam || 1.7|| It is not apprehended by a mere knowledge of grammar and dictionary. It is apprehended only by those who know the essence of poetic meaning. 15. The main ideas of the five-dimensional aspect of dhvani have been paraphrased by this study from Krishnamoorthy 1985:196–197. 16. The main ideas of the three-fold division of meaning in dhvani have been paraphrased by this study from Vijayavardhana 1970:101–106. 17. ‘sākṣātsaṁketitaṁ yo’ rthamabhidhatte sa vācakaḥ’ [That which denotes the direct conventional meaning is the ‘Expressive’ word] (Mammata II.7). 18. The main ideas of the poetical purport of dhvani have been paraphrased by this study from Sharma 1968:72–76. 19. “Alankrtasya kāvyatvam iti sthithi na punah kāvysya alankaryogah” [What is embellished is regarded as kāvya. There is nothing like a pre-existing kāvya to which ornaments can be superadded] (Kuntaka, Vakroktijīvita I.6 in Krishnamoorthy 1985:163) 20. Ref. Kāvyadarsha 1.62 in Chaturvedi 1996:120 (Kāvyādarśa 1.62 in Chaturvedi 1996:120)

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Introduction to Part Two 1. The New Oxford Annotated Bible, New Revised Standard Version (Fully Revised Fourth Version), Coogan, Michael D. (ed.). Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2010.

Chapter Four 1. The Brahma Sūtras are also known by other names, mainly: Vedānta Sūtras and Uttara Mīmāmsā-sūtras. 2. As we have already seen, the Védas belong to the Śruti tradition beyond any dispute, but in the case of the Bhagavad Gītā which is an outgrowth of the Mahābhārata epic (Smṛti), whether it belongs to Śruti or Smṛti is a matter of contention. 3. According to the Historical Critical method 1 Sam 2:12–17, 25–26; 4:1b—7:1 is considered to be the Ark Narrative. The rendering ‘Temple Narrative’ is arbitrary. 4. Manu Smṛiti or Manu Samhita (c. 300–600 BCE) written by Manu is the most exerting text of Dhármaśāstra. It seems that the name Manu and words such as man in English, manuṣya in Sanskrit and Mensch in German have a common etymon. Manu, an administrative demigod, is regarded as the ruler of mankind and the first law-giver. 5. For the etymology and the general concept of Dhárma, refer to the section ‘Dhárma Weltanschauung’ of the first chapter. 6. Varṇa—the rules of the class-based social system, such as the specific duties given to each class and the rules for intermarriage. Āśramas—the four stages of life (the student, the householder, the forest dweller, and the renouncer) and the duties expected during each stage. 7. The Nāradasmṛti is a part of the Dhármaśāstras, an Indian literary tradition that serves as a collection of legal maxims relating to the topic of dhárma. This text is purely juridical in character in that it focuses solely on procedural and substantive law. (The Nāradasmṛti (hereafter Nsm) in Lariviere 2003:261) 8. The Mahābhārata has 18 Parvams (Episodes) and Shantiparvam is the 12th one.

Chapter Five 1. Hereafter in the succeeding part of this section it will be referred to with the abbreviation, DST (David’s Song of Thanksgiving). 2. “Although there is scholarly debate about the dating of this poem, the consensus puts it in or close to David’s own time in the tenth century. The mystifying features of the language certainly suggest great antiquity, and it is just possible that the poet was really David. The exact application of “the last words of David” is unclear. In terms of the narrative, they are not literally his last words because he will convey a deathbed testament to Solomon (1 Kings 2). The phrase might be intended to designate the last pronouncement in poetry of David the royal poet” (Alter 1999:345). 3. “The Song in chapter 22 is found also in the Psalm 18, with small variations. Its position here at the end of the books of Samuel links it to the song of Hannah at the beginning

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(1 Samuel 1:1–10), which is also in psalm form. Hannah’s song not only reflects her own situation but foreshadows the subsequent plot about kingship; it ends with the expectation that YHWH ‘will give strength to his king, and raise the horn [i.e. exalt the power] of his anointed’ (1 Sam. 2:10). David’s song is related to a specific occasion (‘on the day when …’) though in fact it celebrates occasions of deliverance throughout his life, including escape from Saul. It, too, reaches its climax with ‘YHWH’s anointed’, now specified as David himself (2 Sam. 22:51)” (Gunn and Fewell 1993:123). 4. The five defining marks (pañcalakṣaṇa) of Purāṇic subject matter are: (1) Sarga: Creation or the generation of being; (2) Pralaya & Prati-sarga: The dissolution and the regeneration of the creation; (3) Vaṃśa: Genealogies of the celestials or gods, sages and other ancestral beings; (4) Manavantaras: The ages of the different human ancestors; and (5) Vaṃśānucarita: The history of the lunar and solar dynasties of kings. (Matsya Purana 53.65) 5. Robert Oden claims that there is a real possibility that mythical thought and mythical literature are the very heart of Israel’s religion. Almost as direct is the statement of Mark Smith, who says “the Baal cycle expressed the heart of the West Semitic religion from which Israelite religion largely developed.” And J. W. Rogerson says that a study of myth may yield “insights that will assist biblical interpretation” (Oswalt 2009:29–30). 6. The Pāṇḍavas attend the contest for the hand of king Drupads’s daughter, called Draupadī, where Arjuna wins her by a feat of archery and the five brothers jointly marry her. 7. The sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra (Kauravas) are jealous of their cousins (Pāṇḍavas) and plot to assassinate them by setting fire to the house made of lac in which the five Pāṇḍavas and their mother are staying, but they escape secretly through an underground passage. 8. The growing power of the Pāṇḍavas inflames the jealousy of the Kauravas, whose uncle gives them the idea of challenging the Pāṇḍavas to a game of dice. Yudhiṣṭhira, the eldest brother of Pandava who had a weakness for gambling, loses all his wealth and then pledges his brothers and himself as stakes. Again he stakes Draupadī, their joint wife, only to lose her too. 9. ‘पुराणमितिव्रुत्तमाख्यायिकोदाहरणं धर्मशास्त्रं चेतीतिहास’ (Arthaśāstra, Book 1, Chapter 5). The corpus of itihāsa consists of the chronicles of the ancients, history, tales, illustrative stories, the canon of Righteous conduct, the science of Government. 10. Gītaic is used in the sense of ‘that which pertains to Gītā’ and Gītā denotes the Bhagavad Gītā, the third episode of the Bhīṣmaparvan of the Mahābhārata.

Chapter Six 1. Narration in the sense that it contains the essence of narration in its embryonic form. Paniker calls it cryptic narrative—the smallest manifestation of the narrative. 2. Kāla etymologically comes from the root kāl which means to calculate, to count or to bring about. 3. Some passing biblical reference to the impressive imageries of fantasy: ο  the beast having four wings of a bird on its back and four heads (Daniel 7:6) ο  make the sun go down at noon (Amos 8:9) ο  mountains of bronze (Zechariah 6:2)

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ο  four living creatures having human form, each of them having four faces and four wings (Ezekiel 1:5–6) ο  a lioness, the mother of princes, depicted as a vine and the vine is transplanted into the wilderness where fire has gone out from its stem that consumed its branches and fruit (Ezekiel 19). ο  a flying scroll having the power of consuming timber and stone houses (Zechariah 5:1–4) ο  the falling stars from heaven (Matthew 24:29) ο  the sun becoming black as sackcloth, the full moon becoming like blood (Revelation 6:12) ο  the sky vanishing like a scroll rolling itself up, and every mountain and island is removed from its place (Revelation 6:14) ο  a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on his heads sweeping down a third of the stars of heaven and throwing them to the earth with his tail (Revelation 12:3–4) ο  the earth opening its mouth and swallowing the river (Revelation 12:16) 4. The Midrash (Midrash Shmuel 24:7) enumerates five sins for which Saul deserved death (homiletically based on the verse in 1 Chronicles [10:13,14]): (1) authorizing the murder of the Kohanim of Nob; (2) having mercy on Agag; (3) not hearkening to Samuel’s command to wait for him …; (4) inquiring of the ov sorceress; and (5) not inquiring of the Urim VeTumim in the war against the Philistines (12:19,20) … (Weinberger 2011:610). 5. The oldest version of the Pañchatantra is attributed to Vishnu Sharma of the third century BCE. It is a collection of animal fables narrated in a frame story format. 6. The Light of Revelation in the Old Testament, General Audience May 8, 1985. 7. “ominiscient narrator. A narrator who knows (practicaly everything about the situations and events recounted (Tom Jones, The Mill on the Floss, Eugénie Grandet). Such a narrator has an omniscient point of view and tells more than any and all the characters know. ¶Booth 1983; Chatman 1978; N. Friedman 1955b; Genette 1980; Prince 1982; Todorov 1981” (Prince 2003:68–69). 8. intrusive narrator. A (distancing or engaging, ironic or earnest) narrator commenting in his or her own voice on the situations and events presented, their presentation, or its context; a narrator relying on and characterized by commentarial excursuses or intrusions (Eugénie Grandet, Barchester Towers, Tom Jones). ¶Blin 1954; Genette 1980; Prince 1982; Warhol 1986, 1989” (Prince 2003:46–47). 9. According to E. M. Forster (Aspects of the Novel, London, Methuen, 1927) there can be mainly two kinds of characters: Round and Flat. Round Character: A complex, multidimensional, unpredictable character, who is capable of convincingly surprising behaviour. Flat Character: A character endowed with one or very few traits and highly predictable in behaviour (Prince 2003:31, 85).

Chapter Seven 1. For the basic notion of puruṣārtha, refer to Chapter 1, Part I under the heading, ‘Dhárma Weltanschauung.’

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2. Fabula. The set of narrated situations and events in their chronological sequence; the basic STORY material (as opposed to PLOT or SJUZET), in Russian Formalist terminology (Prince 2003:29,30). 3. The Sanskrit words bhakta (devotee), bhagavan (deity), bhakti (devotion), etc. are derivations of the root ‘bhaj’ whose meanings include ‘to share in,’ ‘to take part in,’ ‘to belong to,’ ‘to engage in,’ ‘to form part of,’ ‘occupy with,’ ‘attached to,’ ‘distributing,’ etc. [MonierWilliams, Sanskrit Dictionary, 1899].

Conclusion 1. actantial role: “A formal position occupied by an actant along its narrative trajectory; a particular state assumed by an actant in the logical unfolding of a narrative. In its trajectory, for example, the subject is instituted as such by the sender and can be modalized (qualified, made completed) along the axes of desire, ability, knowledge, and obligation, realized as a performing Subject, recognized as one, and rewarded … the actant, which constitutes a fundamental role at the deep structure level, is specified through a series of actantial roles along a narrative trajectory and further specified as one or more actors at the surface structure level” (Prince 2003:2–3).

chapter two

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Oeming, Manfred. 2006. Contemporary Biblical Hermeneutics—An Introduction. Translated by Joachim F. Vette. Aldershot/Burlington, Vermont: Ashgate. ———. 2003. Narratoloy or Narratologies? In Kindt, Tom/Müller, Hans-Harald (ed.). What Is Narratology? Questions and Answers Regarding the Status of a Theory. Berlin/New York: Walter de Gruyter, 240–275. O’Flaherty, Wendy Doniger. 1988. The Origins of Evil in Hindu Mythology. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. ———. 1975. Hindu Myths: A Sourcebook. Harmondsworth [Eng.]: Penguin. Oswalt, John N. 2009. The Bible among the Myths: Unique Revelation or Just Ancient Literature? Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan. Padinjarekuttu, Isaac (ed.). 1999. Biblical Themes for a Contextual Theology Today— Collected Writings of George M. Soares Prabhu S. J., Vol. 1–4. Pune: Jnana-Deepa Vidyapeeth Theology Series. Page, Hugh Rowland Jr. 1996. The Myth of Cosmic Rebellion, A Study of Its Reflexes in Ugaritic and Biblical Literature. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Pandey, Kanti Chandra. (vol. 1) 2008, (vol. 2) 1972. Comparative Aesthetics (Indian Aesthetics). Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series Office. Paniker, K. Ayyappa (ed.). 2007. Making of Indian Literature. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. ———. 2004. Indian Sahitya Sidhantham—Prasaktiyum Sadhyathayum (Malayalam). Thiruvananthapuram: Kerala Bhasha Institute. ———. 2003. Indian Narratology. New Delhi: Sterling Publishers. ———. 2003. Interiorization (Antassannivesha), Essays on Literary Theory. Translated from Malayalam by Krishna Rayan. Kariavattorm, Kerala: International Centre for Kerala Studies, University of Kerala. Panikkar, Raimundo. 2001. The Vedic Experience—Manthramañjari: An Anthology of the Vedas for Modern Man and Contemporary Celebration. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Parashar, Sadhana. 2002. Kavyamimamsa of Rajasekhara. New Delhi: D. K. Printworld. Patnaik, Priyadarshi. 2004. Rasa in Aesthetics, An Application of Rasa Theory to Modern Western Literature. New Delhi: D. K. Printworld. Prasad, K. S. (ed.). 2002. The Philosophy of Language in Classical Indian Tradition. New Delhi: Decent Books. Pratt, Mary Louise. 1981. Toward a Speech Act Theory of Literary Discourse. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Prince, Gerald. 2003. A Dictionary of Narratology (Revised Edition). Lincoln/London: University of Nebraska Press. ———. 1982. Narratology, The Form and Functioning of Narrative. The Hague: Mouton. Propp, Vladimir. 1968. Morphology of the Folktale. Austin, Texas: University of Texas Press. Radhika, P. 1999. Story-Teller to Visionary: Angus Wilson’s Narrative Craft. Thiruvananthapuram: Department of Publications, University of Kerala. Raghavan, V./Nagendra. 1970. An Introduction to Indian Poetics. Bombay: Macmillan. Rajappan, Regha. 2007. Morphology of the Kathāsaritsāgara (Doctoral Thesis). Kalady: Sree Sankaracharya University of Sanskrit, Kalady. Rajendran, C. 2001. Studies in Comparative Poetics. Delhi: New Bharatiya Book Corporation.

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Ramachandrudu, P. 2008. The Contribution of Panditaraja Jagannatha to Sanskrit Poetics. Delhi: New Bharatiya Book Corporation. Ramakrishana, E. V. (ed.) 2005. Narrating India: The Novel in Search of the Nation. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. Ramanujan, A. K. 1991. Folktales from India: A Selection of Oral Tales from Twenty-Two Languages. New York: Pantheon Books. Rao, Ramakrishna A. 1992. Comparative Perspectives on Indian Literature. New Delhi: Prestige. Ray, Mohit K. 2008. A Comparative Study of the Indian Poetics and the Western Poetics. New Delhi: Sarup & Sons. Rayan, Krishna. 1991. Sahitya, A Theory for Indian Critical Practice. Delhi: Sterling Publishers. ———. 1987. Text and Sub-Text—Suggestion in Literature. Delhi: Arnold Heinemann. Richardson, Brian. 2000. Recent Concepts of Narrative and the Narratives of Narrative Theory. Style, Volume 34, No. 2, Summer 2000: 168–175. Maryland: The Johns Hopkins University Press. Rimmon-Kenan, Shlomith. 2003. Narrative Fiction. London/New York: Routledge. Roy, Krishna. 1993. Hermeneutics: East and West. Jadavpur: Allied Publishers in collaboration with Jadavpur University. Rudrum, David. 2002. Narratology (1960). In The Literary Encyclopedia. 1 November 2002. accessed 30 October 2015. Royal Holloway University of London: The Literary Dictionary Company. Sadhale, Nalini. 1986. Katha in Sanskrit Poetics. Hyderabad: Sanskrit Academy. Sankaran, A. 1929. Some Aspects of Literary Criticism in Sanskrit or The Theories of Rasa and Dhvani. Madras: University of Madras. Sastri P. S. 1989. Indian Theory of Aesthetic. Delhi: Bharatiya Vidya Prakashan. ———. 1988. Rgvedic Aesthetic. Delhi: Bharatiya Vidya Prakashan. Sastri, S. M. 2005. Hindu Feasts, Fasts and Ceremonies. Delhi: Winsome Books India. Sastrulu, V. V. (Trans.). 2008. Kavyadarsh of Dandin. Delhi: Baratiya Kala Prakashan. Sastry, P. V. Naganatha. 1991. Kavyalankara of Bhamaha. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Seth, Kailash Nath/Chaturvedi, B. K. 2000. Gods and Goddesses of India. New Delhi: Diamond Pocket Books. Sharma, M. M. 1968. The Dhvani Theory in Sanskrit Poetics. Varanasi: Chaukhamba. Sharma, T. R. S. (ed.). 2008. Ancient Indian Literature—An Anthology (Volumes 1, 2 & 3). New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. Shastri, Gaurinath. 1959. Philosophy of Word and Meaning. Calcutta: Sanskrit College Research Series 5. Singer, Alan/Dunn, Allen. 2000. Literary Aesthetics: A Reader. London: Blackwell Publishing. Singh, Maan. 1979. Subanadhu and Dandin. New Delhi: Meharchand Lachhmandas Publications. Singh, Satya Prakash. 1981. Upanishadic Symbolism. New Delhi: Meharchand Lachhmandas. Ska, Jean Louis. 1990. “Our Fathers Have Told Us”, Introduction to the Analysis of Hebrew Narratives. Roma: Editrice Pontificio Instituto Biblico. Smethurst, Mae J. 1989. The Artistry of Aeschylus and Zeami—A Comparative Study of Greek Tragedy and Nō. New Jersey: Princeton University Press.

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Sreekantaiya, T. Nanjundaiya. 2001. Indian Poetics. Translated by N. Balasubrahmanya. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. ———. 1980. “Imagination” in Indian Poetics and Other Literary Studies. Mysore: Geetha Book House. Sridhar, M. 1999. Literary Theory and F. R. Levis—Language, Criticism and Culture: “Organic Community” in F. R. Leavis. New Delhi: Prestige. Sternberg, Meir. 1985. The Poetics of Biblical Narrative. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Subrahmanyam, Korada. 2008. Theories of Language Oriental and Occidental. New Delhi: Printworld (P) Ltd. Subramanian, A. V. 1988. The Aesthetics of Wonder—New Findings in Sanskrit Alankarasastra. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Sudhi, Padma. 1988. Aesthetic Theories of India, Vol. 2 & Vol. 3. New Delhi: Intellectual Publishing House. Tharakan, K. M. 2008. Western and Eastern Poetics: A Comparative Study of Reader Response in I.A. Richards and Abinavagupta. New Delhi: Prestige. Tiwary, R. S. 1984. A Critical Approach to Classical Indian Poetics. Delhi: Chowkhamba Orientalia. Tolmie, D. F. 1999. Narratology and Biblical Narratives: A Practical Guide. San Francisco/ London/Bethesda: International Scholars Publications. Vatsyayan, Kapila. 2007. Bharata: The Natyasastra. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. Verma, S. K./Krishnaswamy, N. 2007. Modern Linguistics. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Vijayavardhana, G. 1970. Outlines of Sanskrit Poetics. Varanasi: Chaukhamba. Virkler, Henry A./Ayayo, Karelynne Gerber. 2009. Hermeneutics—Principles and Processes of Biblical Interpretation (Second Edition). Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic. Vyas, Bhaskar/Vyas, Rajni. 2004. Space Time and Consciousness: The Fifth Dimension. Delhi/ Varanasi: Bharatiya Vidya Prakashan. Waard, Jan de/Nida, Eugene A. 1986. From One Language to Another: Functional Equivalence in Bible Translating. Nashville, Tennessee: Thomas Nelson Publishers. Walsh, Jerome T. 2010. Old Testament Narrative—A Guide to Interpretation. Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press. Warder, A. K. (vol. 1) 1989, (vol. 2) 1990, (vol. 3) 1977, (vol. 4) 1983, (vol. 5) 1988. Indian Kavya Literature. New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Waugh, Patricia (ed.). 2006. Literary Theory and Criticism—An Oxford Guide. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Weinberger, Rabbi Josef. 2011. Shmuel I—I Samuel/A New Translation with a Commentary Anthologized from Talmudic, Midrashic, and Rabbinic Sources—ArtScroll Tanach Series. New York: Mesorah Publications. Weiss, Andrea L. 2006. Figurative Language in Biblical Prose Narrative, Metaphor in the Book of Samuel. Leiden/Boston: Brill. White, Hugh C. 1991. Narration and Discourse in the Book of Genesis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Winternitz, Maurice. 1990. A History of Indian Literature. Vol I. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Yamne, David. 2000. Narrative and Religious Experience. Oxford Journals, Sociology of Religion—A Quarterly Review, Volume 61, Issue 2, 171–189.

Index

A Abhinavagupta 37, 73, 78, 80–81, 238, 259, 272–273, 282–283, 285 Absalom 144, 190, 245–249, 251–255 aesthetic 5–6, 20–21, 34–35, 51–53, 62, 66, 72–74, 78–79, 81–83, 86–87, 89–90, 94, 114, 123, 167, 208–210, 214–215, 217, 219, 223, 230–231, 233, 242, 245–246, 251–254 ākhyānas 27 alaṅkāra 20, 35–36, 52, 72–73, 81–83, 87–90, 166, 207, 231, 233, 236–238, 241–248, 253–254, 259, 269, 272, 279 Alaṅkāra-Dhvani 83, 87, 233, 236–238 Alaṅkāraśāstra 34, 288, 66 allegorisation 52, 66, 71, 166, 188–194, 261 Amalekite 111, 186, 191–192, 256 anonymisation 52, 66, 71, 166, 195–200, 254, 259, 272 anthologies 12, 255 anthropocentric 24

ārathi 24, 259 Aristotle 59, 38, 40 ark 96, 99, 101–102, 124, 131–136, 146–147, 153–154, 197–198, 204–205, 232 Ark Narrative 101–102, 106, 130–137, 199, 232, 274 ãrsabharatha 32, 260 Arthaśāstra 28, 109, 143, 260, 275 Aryan 22, 119 Asian context 45 aucitya 36, 66, 72–73, 260 avatars 11, 177 Ayurvéda 28, 260

B Bathsheba 145, 149–150, 189, 193–194, 212–215 Battle of Kurukshethra 138–139, 141–142 Bhagavad Gītā 28, 50–51, 100, 104, 141, 156–159, 164, 222, 235, 260

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bhagavan 225, 260 bhajana 24, 260 bhakta 225, 277 bhasya 56, 260 bhāvas 74–77, 79–80, 208, 210–212, 214–217, 220–221, 225–228 sthāyibhāvas 75–79, 208, 216, 223, 228–229 vyabhicāribhāvas 76, 78, 83, 208 sāttvikabhāvas 76–77, 208 Bhishma 110, 113 Biblical and Hindu world views 24 biblical exegesis 15, 17, 19–20, 22–24, 253, 267–268 exegetical methods 15, 252 exegetical approaches 15 biblical narrative 1–7, 9, 11–14, 17, 19, 21–25, 27, 29, 31–33, 47–51, 53, 60, 94, 100, 104–105, 111, 114, 116, 130–131, 135, 142, 154, 157, 164–166, 179–181, 185, 189, 195, 198–200, 203–207, 209, 220, 223, 231, 235, 239, 241, 243–245, 248–249, 251, 254–257, 268, 279–280, 282–283, 288 Books of Samuel 2, 6–7, 91, 93–97, 99, 103, 107, 111, 125, 137, 143, 167, 169, 173, 175, 195, 198–200, 202, 204, 216, 224–225, 245, 256–257, 274, 282 Brāhmaṇa 152, 260, 269, 272 Brihatkatha 25–26, 260 Buddhism 22, 27

D

C

E

campu 5, 260 canonical criticism 14, 16 centrifugal 26, 38, 40, 59 Christianity 22, 32, 279 cosmic order 28, 30, 141, 152, 154–155, 269 cosmocentric 24, 27–28, 30, 205 critical approaches 14, 209 cyclicalisation 52, 66, 70, 166, 184–185, 187–188, 254

elasticisation 52, 66, 69, 177–178 Eli 98, 102, 105–107, 131, 133–136, 216–218

darśan/a 24, 27, 31–32, 62, 260–261, 269, 282 David 2, 6, 14, 46, 60, 91, 93–96, 98–99, 101, 105, 111–116, 119–126, 142–246, 251–255, 257, 274–275, 279, 282–283 Davidic episode 2, 6, 60, 91, 93–95, 98–99, 101, 105, 111, 114–116, 120–126, 151, 154, 156–159, 161, 164, 166, 168–170, 172, 179–180, 184–188, 196–197, 201, 207–210, 223, 241, 245, 255, 257 deities 32, 68, 119, 127–130, 265 Deuteronomistic 95, 142, 195, 199, 232 Devi 127–130, 177 diegesis 4, 38, 271 dharma 24, 29–31, 58, 97–99, 104, 107–113, 141, 151–155, 161, 164, 175, 210, 219–223, 259–260, 262, 265, 274, 276, 279–280, 284 Dharmaśāstra 58, 107–111, 143, 152, 274 dhármic 51, 260 dhvani 20, 36, 52, 66, 72–73, 80–81, 83–84, 86–87, 90, 166, 207, 211, 214–215, 217, 230–231, 233–241, 253–254, 261, 272–274, 279, 283, 287, 303, 330 dhyana 24, 261 discourse 4, 31, 38, 42, 270–271 drama/s 5, 36, 41, 43, 73, 155, 262, 264, 285 dramatic 4, 27, 38, 61, 73, 121, 126, 160, 272 dramaturgy 262, 272 Dravidian 22, 60, 69

F fable/s 4, 26, 38, 41, 262, 276 fantasisation 52, 66, 70, 166, 179–183

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French Structuralism 39 Ferdinand de Saussure 38–39, 42, 269–271 film/s 42, 126, 148, 183, 270, 281 Form criticism 14 Four-S Model 52–54, 59–60, 94–96, 114, 254

G Geschehen 42 Geschichte 42 Gītā 28, 50–51, 100–101, 103–104, 141–142, 156–159, 161–162, 164, 175, 222, 235, 260–261, 274–275 gītāic genre 156–164 Goliath 121, 200–202, 222, 230–241 guṇa 20, 36, 66, 72–73, 89, 261, 284

I improvisation 13, 52, 66, 69, 166, 175–176, 200, 254 Indian biblical exegetes 17, 19 Indian classical criticism 19–20 Indian poetics 1, 3, 6, 20, 33, 35, 50–51, 53, 72, 94, 166, 207, 231, 242, 249, 272, 280–281, 286–288 Indian Weltanschauung 24–25, 27, 31–32 Indra 116–117, 119, 123, 127–129, 264 improvisation 13, 52, 66, 166, 175–176, 200, 254 interiorisation 52, 66–68, 122, 166–167, 169–172, 254, 259 Islam 22, 32 Itihāsa 275 itihāsic 25–26, 52, 60, 65, 101, 115–116, 137, 139, 142–145, 147–151, 155–156, 158, 164–165, 254, 261, 267

H Hannah 96–99, 102–106, 120, 125–126, 131, 136, 158–159, 176, 199, 210–211, 224–226, 274–275 Hebrew 2, 7, 50–51, 93, 115, 120, 130, 152, 169, 173, 177, 232, 243–244, 257, 279, 282–283, 287 Hellenistic 51 hermeneutics 19, 24, 285–288 Hindu 2, 18, 23–28, 31–32, 50–51, 58, 104, 118, 177, 201, 243, 257, 260, 263, 267–268, 282, 284, 286–287 Hinduism 22, 27, 58, 104, 202, 265, 279, 282 histoire 38, 42, 270 holistic 2, 11, 23–24, 27–29, 53, 90 House of David 123, 148, 150–151, 153–154, 162, 174, 228 House of Israel 174 House of Saul 145, 150–151, 153, 185, 228, 232

J Jainism 22, 27 japa 24, 261 Joab 144, 146, 149–150, 153, 178, 190, 212–213, 249, 251–254 Jonathan 120, 146–147, 157–158, 161, 224–225, 227–228 Judaism 22, 32 Jyotisha 28, 261

K kāma 29, 31, 152, 209–215, 261 Kāmaśāstra 28, 261 karma 24, 30, 104, 108, 261 kathā 287 Kathasaritsagara 26, 60, 202, 261, 286 Kauravas 138–139, 151, 261, 263, 275

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kāvya 4–5, 35, 62, 73, 79, 81–83, 87–90, 208, 231, 239, 241–244, 252, 262, 267, 269, 273, 288 Kāvyādarśa 317 Kāvyālaṅkara 34, 36–37, 87, 241–242, 261, 284 Kāvya Śāstra 1–7, 35–37, 47, 50, 52–53, 66, 72, 81, 86, 90–91, 94, 207, 233, 249, 251–257, 262–263 Krauñcha 96–97, 262 krauñchavadha 96

L langue 38, 42, 271 literary attributes metaphor, parable, proverb, paradox, irony, satire, simile, truism, parallelism, synonymy, metonymy, hyperbole 12 literary contents history, historiography, tragedy, comedy, epiphany, biography, liturgy, creed, code, cult, sermon, letter 12 literary genres folk tale, legend, myth, epic, saga, poetry, ballad, hymn, psalm, short story, elegy, apolcalypse, oracle, proverb, epigram 12 logos 38, 42, 47, 55–56, 62, 96, 117, 264, 271 logic/al 24, 28, 30, 49, 65–66, 69–70, 88, 106, 131, 137, 154, 262, 264, 269, 285

M Mahābhārata 13, 25, 27, 30, 51, 58, 60–61, 64–65, 69, 71, 100, 103–104, 110, 116, 137–141, 145, 151, 155–159, 162, 175, 195, 200, 219, 221, 230, 260, 262, 264–265, 274–275, 280 mantras 124–125, 262

Messianic 152, 170–172, 193 metaphysics 24, 210 midrashic 14, 288 mimesis 4, 21, 38, 59, 271–272 mimetic 21 mokṣa 23, 31, 47, 152, 210, 223–230, 262 monotheistic 24 Morphology 39, 266 muktakas 4, 262

N Narrative criticism 14, 16 narrativist turn 40 Narrativity 43–44 Narratology 5–6, 14, 16, 33, 37–47, 51–52, 54, 60, 63, 66–67, 138, 166, 168, 251, 254, 257, 268, 270, 272, 279, 283–288 Nathan 149–150, 188–189, 192, 194–195, 197, 200, 212, 214–215 Nāṭyaśāstra 35–36, 72–74, 82, 87, 211, 216, 221, 223, 259, 262, 272, 282, 288 niṣkāma 104, 262

O Old Testament 12, 21, 42–43, 50, 64, 112, 130, 188, 255, 276, 280–281, 283, 288

P Pañchatantra 26, 60, 71–72, 102–103, 188, 202, 251–252, 262, 268, 276 Pāṇḍavas 110, 138–139, 151, 222, 230, 263 parole 38, 42, 271 Philistines 122, 124, 131, 133–136, 146, 153–154, 157–160, 167–168, 174, 176, 178, 183, 185, 197, 199, 202, 232, 235, 276 philosophers 20

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philosophic/al 20, 24–26, 32, 35, 52, 59, 62–63, 103, 130, 156, 261, 264, 269, 272, 279 Plato 38, 40, 59, 271 poetics 1, 3, 5–6, 20, 24, 26, 33–36, 38, 40, 42, 46–53, 66, 72, 78, 81–82, 87, 89, 94, 114, 134, 166, 207, 210, 231, 242–243, 249, 251, 253–254, 257, 260–261, 263–265, 267, 269–270, 272, 280–281, 283–288 polytheistic 24 pooja 24, 263 Postclassical Narratology 40, 45, 47, 270, 283 Poststructuralist 37, 40 prophetic religions Sihism, Bahaí, aboriginal tribal faiths, 22 Proprium 41, 51 pundits 19, 20, 25, 53, 109 Purāṇa/s 25–26, 28, 56, 60, 62, 63–65, 70–71, 100, 126, 128–130, 137, 143, 195, 200, 259, 262–263, 267, 272, 275 purāṇic 52, 60, 63–65, 101, 115–116, 126–127, 129–135, 139, 254, 269, 275 Puruṣārtha/s 31, 152, 209–210, 215, 263, 276

R Rāmāyaṇa 25, 27, 34, 60–61, 65–66, 68–69, 71, 81, 96–97, 103, 116, 137, 155, 195, 259–260, 262–264, 282 rasa 20–21, 35–36, 52, 62, 66–67, 72–84, 86–90, 97, 107, 110–117, 121–125, 134, 166, 207–225, 227–231, 233, 238–241, 253–254, 263, 272–273, 276– 280, 281, 284–287, 288–291, 293–296, 300, 302–303, 306, 312–315, 329 rasadhvani 69, 312–313 rasāsvāda 5, 263 readings of the Bible 14, 51 récit 40, 42, 270 redaction criticism 14 rhetorical criticism 14, 16 Ṛgvéda 29, 55, 60–62, 116, 119, 263, 272

righteous duties 30 rīti 36, 66, 72 ṛsis 31, 32, 260, 262–263 ṛta 28, 30, 263 Russian Formalism 39

S sacrificial celebrations 30 sādhanā 24, 118, 263 sadhus 20 sādṛṥya 62, 263 sāhitya 5, 34, 263, 269, 273, 280–282, 286–288 Sāhiṭyavidya 34, 263 sahṛdaya 20, 62, 74, 78–80, 85, 208, 223, 237, 239, 241, 263 sāma 208, 211, 223–224, 226, 263, 273 Sãmkhya 263, 269, 27 samṣkrṭa 34, 59, 263 Samuel Books 93–94, 120, 125, 168, 174–175, 202–203 Samuel 93–94, 96, 98–99, 102–103, 111–113, 119–120, 125, 131, 133–134, 136–137, 145–146, 151–152, 155, 157–162, 164–165, 167–168, 172–173, 177–178, 180, 186, 188, 191–192, 195–201, 210–212, 215–220, 224, 226–227, 234–236, 275–276, 280, 285, 287–289, 295, 297, 307–309, 320, 331–332, 334 Sanskrit 26, 30, 33–35, 50, 52, 56, 62, 72, 86, 90, 104, 118, 239, 256, 259, 262–263, 267, 269, 272, 274, 277, 280, 281–288 sargabandha 4 śāstra 4, 28, 34, 51–54, 57–59, 95, 98, 100– 102, 105, 107, 108–114, 251, 264, 267 satsanga 24 Saul 96, 111–113, 120–122, 145–148, 151, 153–155, 157, 161, 168–170, 172–174, 176, 185–192, 197, 199–202, 219–223, 226–228, 232, 234–236, 240–241, 275–276

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schools of ancient Indian philosophy 27 science of narrative 40, 45 science of salvation 47, 48 semantic/s 20, 35, 43, 49, 52–53, 55, 62, 73, 86, 88, 90, 118, 120, 123, 134, 145, 193, 209–210, 219–220, 223, 230, 241, 254, 256–257, 260, 279–280 semiology 38 semiotic 17, 20, 35, 52, 55, 62, 257, 268, 282 Semitic tradition 22, 31 serialisation 52, 66, 68–69, 166, 172, 254 Sheol 120, 123, 125, 190, 198 Shramana tradition 22 signifier and signified 38, 42, 270–271 smṛti 51–54, 57–59, 76, 95, 98, 100–107, 111, 114, 156, 229, 251, 254, 264, 274 source criticism 14 spatialisation 52, 66, 71, 166, 201, 206, 254 spiritual disciplines 24 spiritual practices 23–24 śruti 24, 51–59, 64–65, 95–105, 108–109, 111–114, 156, 229, 251, 254, 264, 274 story of God 3, 48, 70 stylisation 52, 66, 59, 166, 175, 254 sūtra 51–54, 56–59, 95, 98–102, 105, 111, 114, 152, 251, 254, 264, 274

T Targumic 51 Temple Narrative 101–102, 106 theologising 21, 45

U upākhyāna 65, 69, 140, 264 Upanishads 26, 282 upanishadic 287

V vāk 55–56, 62, 96, 98, 117–119, 124–125, 264 Vakrokti 20, 36, 72–73, 88, 90, 241–242, 245–247, 252–253, 264 Vastuśāstra 28, 265 Vedãnta 27, 265, 269, 274, 282 Védas 25–26, 35, 58, 61, 70–71, 100–101, 103–104, 108, 116, 124, 126, 195, 262, 265, 267, 269, 272, 274, 284, 286 Vedic Hymns 32, 51 Vedic Tradition 22 Vyāsa 13, 50, 64–65, 71, 198–199, 230, 262, 265, 267, 272

W Woman of Tekoa, 150, 190, 249, 250–255

Y Yahweh 93, 120, 123–124, 134–135, 160, 232, 235 yoga 265, 269 Yudhiṣṭhira 110, 113, 138, 140, 275

Biblical Index

1 Samuel 1 Sam 1.. 96–99, 101, 202–203, 210, 224–225 1���������������������������������������������������������203 3, 4�����������������������������������������������������203 5���������������������������������������������������������225 5, 6������������������������������������������������������ 99 6b�������������������������������������������������������� 98 10�������������������������������������������������������224 11�������������������������������������������������������224 15�������������������������������������������������������224 15b������������������������������������������������������ 98 16�������������������������������������������������������� 99 18a������������������������������������������������������225 19�������������������������������������������������������� 99 20�������������������������������������������������������225 1 Sam 1–3...........................................101 1 Sam 1–7...........................................101 1 Sam 2��������������99, 103, 105, 107, 176, 196, 215–224, 225–226, 274–275 1..........................................................225

1–10.....................103, 105, 176, 224, 226 2, 3......................................................225 10........................................................275 11–36..........................................215, 216 12–14..................................................216 12–17, 25–26.......................................274 21......................................................... 99 27–36..................................................103 1 Sam 3...............................................96, 196 1........................................................... 99 1b.........................................................196 7..........................................................196 1 Sam 4............................... 96, 101, 130, 197 3..........................................................197 8..........................................................197 16, 17...................................................197 21, 22.................................................... 99 1 Sam 4–7.................................. 101, 130 1 Sam 6.............................................107, 204 13–15..................................................204

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1 Sam 8 9..........................................................173

1 Sam 24............186–187, 219–220, 289, 291 1 Sam 25...................................................245

1 Sam 9 1, 2a.....................................................202 1 Sam 10..................................... 96, 187, 197 11, 12...................................................197 12b......................................................187 1 Sam 12................... 103, 155, 219, 224–226 1–12....................................................103 3–5......................................................219 3a.........................................................225 17b–18................................................155 1 Sam 15.................... 96, 107, 111, 186, 191 2..........................................................192 18, 19a.................................................192 1 Sam 16..............96, 122, 176, 200–201, 245 11–13..................................................200 13a.......................................................201 14–23..................................................200 18........................................................122 20........................................................245 1 Sam 17....124, 200, 202, 231–232, 237, 240 1..........................................................202 5–7......................................................240 38, 39...................................................240 46........................................................124 1 Sam 18...........................................122, 224 1–4..............................................224, 227 14, 28...................................................122 19b......................................................225 1 Sam 19...................................................187 1 Sam 20 3–4......................................................228 1 Sam 21...................................................240

1 Sam 26...........................................186, 187 1 Sam 28.............................................96, 197 1 Sam 31................................... 176, 185, 191

2 Samuel 2 Sam 1.............153, 155, 161, 176, 185–186, 191–192, 197, 224 1..................................................155, 192 2–16....................................................192 11, 12...................................................192 16........................................................192 18–27..........................................224, 227 21........................................................155 23........................................................228 25........................................................161 25........................................................214 26........................................................228 2 Sam 2..................... 144, 201, 206, 215–216 1–7......................................................206 4a.........................................................201 11–36..................................................216 2 Sam 6 23........................................................297 2 Sam 7 18–29..................................................176

Author Index

A Aaron 252, 279 Alter 168, 173, 244, 274, 279

B Bar-Efrat 3, 243, 280 Barthes 39, 40–41, 280 Barton 14 Berlin 48–49, 280 Blücher 27, 280 Briggs 11, 280 Brockington 139, 156, 280 Bullinger 243, 280

C Chan 45, 281 Chase 43, 281

Chaturvedi 273, 281 Coats 4, 48, 281

D D’sa 28–29, 282 Damrosch 6, 115, 135, 142–143, 168, 232, 240, 281 De 242, 269, 281 Dev 18–19, 25, 282

E Eck 31, 282

F Fokkelman 120, 177, 244, 282

298 

| 

indian poe tics ( k āvya śāstr a ) and narr atolo g y

G

M

Genette 4, 40, 46, 271, 276, 282 Ghosh 211, 216, 221, 282 Gunn 14, 144, 275, 283

Masson 223–230, 283, 285 Mieke Bal 42, 279 Misra 25, 55, 285 Mukerjee 21, 209–210, 285

H Harris 168, 283 Harrison 48, 283 Henn 12–13, 143–144, 283 Hota 231, 283

I

N Navone 47, 285 Nünning 40, 45, 47, 270, 285

O Oswalt 130, 131, 275, 286

Ingalls 237, 239, 283

J Jobling 240, 283 Josselson and Lieblich 43

K Kindt and Müller 41, 45–46, 270 Krishnamachariar 118, 284 Krishnamoorthy 78, 80–81, 87–88, 211, 215, 217, 219, 220, 223, 226–227, 237, 239, 242, 273, 284

L Lariviere 274, 284 Legrand 50, 284 Lele 34, 242, 284 Lipner 55–58, 104, 118, 139, 141, 155, 177, 201–203, 205, 219–220, 268, 284

P Padinjarekuttu 18, 20, 22–23, 28, 267–268, 286 Paniker 60–61, 63, 66–71, 138, 166–167, 172, 181, 184, 195, 198, 200, 202–204, 268, 272, 275, 286 Panikkar 56, 286 Patnaik 77, 255, 286 Prince 4, 41–44, 46, 271, 276–277, 286

R Ray 73, 242–243, 287 Richardson 38, 287 Rudrum 39, 287

S Sastri 62, 272, 287 Sharma (1968) 48, 76, 82, 116, 120

au t h o r i n d e x  | 299

Sharma (2008) 5, 65–66, 59–60, 67, 95–96, 103–104, 126, 128, 138–139, 142, 157, 202, 269, 272–273, 276, 288 Sternberg 46, 53, 288

T Tiwary 78, 89–90, 288

V Vatsyayan 74, 79, 288 Vijayavardhana 80, 82, 90, 242, 273, 288 Vladimir Propp 39

W Warder 267, 288 Waugh 272, 288 Weinberger 217–219, 221, 232, 240, 276, 288 Weiss 243–244, 288 White 42, 288

Y Yamne 44, 288

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