1. Teleology of Poetics in Medieval Kashmir Lawrence MacCrea J. (Thesis)

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THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO

THE TELEOLOGY OF POETICS IN MEDIEVAL KASHMIR

VOLUME ONE

A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO

THE FACULTY OF THE DIVISION OF THE HUMANITIES

IN CANDIDACY FOR THE DEGREE OF

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

DEPARTMENT OF SOUTH ASIAN LANGUAGES AND CIVILIZATIONS

BY

LAWRENCE J. MCCREA

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

MARCH 1998

UMI Number: 9829467

UMI Microform 9829467 Copyright 1998, by UMI Company. All rights reserved.

This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.

UMI 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, MI 48103

Copyright @ 1998 by Lawrence J. McCrea All rights reserved

TABLE OF CONTENTS

VOLUME ONE

Chapter I. INTRODUCTION.

II. EARLY ALAMKARASASTRA AND THE PROBLEM OF RASA .. 36

III. MIMAMSA AND THE TELEOLOGY OF LANGUAGE .. .. 66

IV. ANANDAVARDHANA' S DHVANYALOKA AND THE TELEOLOGY OF POETIC LANGUAGE .. .119

V. ANANDAVARDHANA'S POETICS AND THE PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE. .194

VOLUME TWO

VI. THEORY AND CRITICISM IN THE DHVANYALOKA .258

VII. MUKULABHATTA AND PRATĪHĀRENDURĀJA. .304

VIII. KUNTAKA'S VAKROKTIJĪVITA. 390

IX. ABHINAVAGUPTA. .431

X. MAHIMABHATTA'S VYAKTIVIVEKA 471

EPILOGUE. .521

BIBLIOGRAPHY .531

iii

CHAPTER ONE INTRODUCTION

It has long been recognized that the Dhvanyaloka of the

ninth-century Kashmiri Anandavardhana marks a crucial turning

point in the development of Sanskrit literary theory

(Alamkārasāstra) . Anandavardhana's view Of dhvani

(suggestion), and particularly suggested rasa (aestheticized

emotion), as centrally important in the composition of

effective poetry comes ultimately to gain near-universal

acceptance among the practitioners of Alamkārasāstra. The

great seventeenth-century poet and literary theorist

Jagannātha Panditarāja speaks for most of the later

Alamkarikas when he declares Anandavardhana to have been "the

establisher of the course for Ālamkārikas" (alamkārika-sarani-

vyavasthapaka) .1

Modern scholars have likewise recognized the commanding

role played by the Dhvanyaloka in the development of

Alamkārasāstra. P.V. Kane hails it as "an epoch making work

in the history of Alamkara Literature" which "occupies the

same position in the Alamkarasastra as Pānini's sūtras in

Grammar and the Vedantasutras in Vedānta. #2 According to S.K.

De,

No other work on Sanskrit Poetics has indeed exerted so

1Jaggannatha Panditaraja, Rasagangadhara, ed. Kedāranātha

II, p. 559. Ojha, SarasvatI Bhavana Granthamala 113, Varanasi, 1981, Vol.

2P.V. Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, Delhi, Motilal Banarsidass, 1971 [fourth ed.], p. 161.

1

2

much influence as the Dhvanyaloka, which brought to a focus the tentative efforts of earlier thinkers, and by its thoroughness and masterly exposition eclipsed all its predecessors, dominating, as it did, thoughts of generations of theorists even down to the present time.3

K. Krishnamoorthy proclaims Anandavardhana's dhvani-theory to

be "the most perfect literary theory"4 and "the highest point

reached by Sanskrit literary criticism. "5

Yet I will argue that, despite the widespread recognition

of the crucial importance of Anandavardhana's work in the

development of Sanskrit literary theory and the attention that

has been lavished upon it, the transformation brought about in

the field of Alamkarasastra by the Dhvanyaloka has so far been

poorly understood. There are, as I see it, two main factors

which have impaired most previous efforts at assessing

Anandavardhana's role in the history of Alamkārasāstra. The

first is the largely unqualified adulation with which

Anandavardhana's dhvani-theory has generally been viewed; this

has led most scholars of Alamkārasāstra to denigrate and

downplay the significance of alternative theories of literary

aesthetics (both those of Anandavardhana's predecessors and

those of later theorists).

It is certainly true that Anandavardhana's theory

3S.K. De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, Calcutta, Firma KLM Private Ltd., 1976, Vol. II, p. 175.

'Krishnamoorthy, The Dhvanyaloka and its Critics, Mysore, Kavyalaya Publishers, 1968, p. 45.

5Krishnamoorthy, Essays in Sanskrit Criticism, Dharwar, Karnatak University, 1964, p. 62.

3

ultimately came to exercise virtually universal sway in the

field of Alamkarasastra, superseding all rivals, and an

important part of the task facing the historian is to explain

why Anandavardhana's theory was found preferable in comparison

with others. Nevertheless, the history of Alamkārasāstra is

far from a one-sided story of the dhvani-theory's triumph.

The earlier Alamkarikas whose theories Anandavardhana sought

to displace exercised great care and sophistication in their

study of literary language; the issues raised by their

analysis of the formal components of poetry remain central for

all later Ālamkārikas, including Anandavardhana and his

followers. Powerful critiques were raised against

Anandavardhana by rival Alamarikas, particularly in tenth and

eleventh century Kashmir (as we shall see).6 The dhvani-

theory gained general acceptance only after a long struggle

with proponents of these rival theories, and was shaped in

important ways by the need to effectively counter the anti-

dhvani arguments raised by these opponents. Devotion to the

6In addition, outside of Kashmir, alternative traditions

Anandavardhana's views gained supremacy among the Kashmiri of literary analysis persisted for some time after

Ālamkārikas, most notably that pioneered by Bhoja (c. 1050 AD) in his Śrngaraprakasa and Sarasvatikanthabharana. Later works which carry on more or less in the tradition of Bhoja's work include the anonymous SahityamImamsa (not to be confused with Ruyyaka's lost work of the same name -- cf. Raghavan, Bhoja's Srīgaraprakasa [Madras: Punarvasu, 1978, third ed., pp. 92-96, 683-686]), the Rasarnavālamkara (ascribed to Prakāsavarsa -- cf. ibid., pp. 365-366, Simhabhupala's (c. 1330 AD) Rasarnavasudhakara (cf. ibid., pp. 387) , and, to some extent,

696-698 and De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 239-241).

4

dhvani-theory has made it difficult for many modern scholars

to take these rival theories seriously as alternatives to

Anandavardhana's, and their accounts of the dhvani-theory's

struggle for supremacy suffer as a result.

A second and perhaps more important factor hindering the

construction of a meaningful historical account of the

development of the dhvani theory, and of Alamkarasastra

generally, has been the general tendency among modern scholars

to explain and evaluate the aesthetic views of Anandavardhana

and the other Alamkärikas almost solely in terms of what each

took to be the fundamental principle of poetic beauty -- the

essence or "soul" (atman) of poetry. It is on the basis of

their views (or their presumed views) regarding the "soul" of

poetry that the various Alamkarikas have been categorized and

grouped into "schools".7 Those who emphasize the importance

of figures of speech (alamkäras) in poetry are labelled the

"Alamkara School", Anandavardhana and his followers are called

the "Dhvani School", and so on. The grouping of Alamkarikas

into "schools" on this basis is arbitrary and rather crude; it

serves to mask important disagreements between members of the

same so called "school", and important areas of agreement

between members of rival "schools". The Ālamkārikas in

7Cf. Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 352-355; De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 322-323, Vol. II, pp. 32ff, 75ff, 139ff; Krishnamoorthy, op. cit., pp. 11, 17; and Mukunda Madhava Sharma, The Dhvani Theory in Sanskrit Poetics (Chowkhamba Sanskrit Studies LXIII, Varanasi, 1968), pp. 6ff.

5

question do not group themselves into schools on this basis.

It is simply assumed that what really counts in any

Alamkarika's system is what he believes to be the essence or

soul of poetry, and that Alamkärikas who are agreed on this

point are on the same team, regardless of their differences on

other matters.

This rather single-minded focus on the general question

of the essence or central principle of poetic beauty is not at

all characteristic of the Alamkarasastra tradition itself.

Throughout its long history, Alamkārasāstra has always

remained firmly grounded in the detailed and precise analysis

of specific literary features. A great many Alamkārikas do

not discuss the "soul" of poetry at all. Even for those (such

Vamana and Anandavardhana) who do single out a particular

element or group of elements as the soul of poetry, discussion

of this central principle does not displace detailed formal

analysis; the element which serves as the soul of poetry must

itself be divided into types and subtypes (each of which must

be defined and exemplified), secondary poetic features must

likewise be categorized, defined, and exemplified, and their

relations with this "essential" element must be specified.

This pervasive and relentless engagement with the

specifics of poetic expression is so much at odds with the

general predilection of modern scholars for discussions of

general principles that it sometimes (most notably in S.K.

De's works) seems to provoke a certain hostility toward the

6

entire field of Alamkārasāstra. According to De, "Sanskrit

Poetics, attempting to solve the riddle of Poetry, did hardly

solve it, but delighted itself with the pleasure of abstract

thought and formal calculation. "8 And again,

We have now surveyed what, from the viewpoint of aesthetic, is worth while [sic.] in the speculations of Sanskrit poetics. We cannot but be struck by the smallness of the number of theorists who have seen the nature of the theoretic problem clearly. The majority hardly take poetry as a living discourse, in itself indivisible, among expressive organisms, but consider it as a series of dead abstractions capable of scientific dissection. They demonstrate, in short, a curious confusion of the artistic process with that of natural science. Many incidentally had a flash of the truth and offered just remarks; made conscientious collections and useful analyses of empirical canons. But the main problem is approached from a restricted angle, and has not been formulated clearly or in its entirety.9

For De, the essence or fundamental principle of poetic

expression is "the theoretic problem", and consequently the

persistent refusal of the Ālamkārikas to focus on this

problem, and their preference for "formal calculation" and the

"dissection" of poetic language, are baffling and frustrating.

Even Anandavardhana is not left entirely free from

criticism on these grounds. Krishnamoorthy, troubled by the

attention Anandavardhana devotes to what he sees as

insignificant minutiae, offers the following apologia:

We, who study the Dhvanyaloka at this distant date, separated by more than a thousand years from its author, are apt to take objection to one feature in which the

8De, Some Problems in Sanskrit Poetics, Calcutta, Firma KLM, 1959, p. 52.

'De, Sanskrit Poetics as a Study of Aesthetic, Berkeley and Los Angeles, University of California Press, 1963, p. 47.

7

work abounds, viz., the preponderance of minute classification, subtle hair-splitting and at times even logic-chopping; It may rightly appear to us so much waste of energy on matters insignificant in respect of literary criticism. But while making such an estimate we should not blind ourselves to the fact that Anandavardhana is an ancient writer living in an age when the whole atmosphere was permeated with a love for philosophical argument and logical subtlety; and if Anandavardhana errs, sometimes on the side of too much brevity and at other times on the side of over-subtlety, it is because he was a typical product of that age and he was merely following the zeit geist.10

Ānandavardhana's work devotes inordinate attention to "minute

classification", "subtle hair-splitting" -- matters of little

or no aesthetic importance. The only justification

Krishnamoorthy has to offer is that Anandavardhana can't

really help it; the intellectual climate in which he works

forces him to waste his effort on trivial matters.

Yet such "minute classification" and "subtle hair-

splitting" is the mainstay of Sanskrit literary theory

throughout its history. The view of Sanskrit poetics

represented by De and Krishnamoorthy is one which treats what

all Alamkarikas do most of the time as marginal to the "real"

or "proper" concerns of Alamkarasāstra. Not surprisingly,

this marginalization of the most persistent concerns of actual

Ālamkärikas results in a rather reductive account of the

history of Alamkāraśāstra.

Indeed, the belief that the proper concern of poetics is

to explain in general terms the fundamental principle of

10Krishnamoorthy, The Dhvanyaloka and its Critics, Mysore, Kavyalaya, 1968, p. 214.

8

poetic beauty, along with the favoritism most modern scholars

hold for Anandavardhana's dhvani-theory, tends to promote a

view of the history of the discipline in which there is only

one really significant event: Anandavardhana's discovery of

dhvani, the real "soul" of poetry. The general view of

earlier authors is that they are excessively concerned with

the detailed analysis of specific formal features, and

therefore overlook or talk around the fundamental question of

Alamkarasastra -- that of the essence or soul of poetry.

Vamana, as the only one of these authors to take an explicit

stand on the soul of poetry, is singled out for some praise;

however, his claim that the soul of poetry is ritill is still

dismissed as inadequate and obviously inferior in comparison

with Anandavardhana's view. For P.V. Kane, "The riti school

marks a very real advance over the alamkära school. Though it

did not reach the real essence of poetry, it approached very

near it." Nevertheless, he argues that the riti school "had

only a glimmering or hazy notion about the real essence of

poetry. #12 De takes a similar view:

To Vamana belongs the credit of being the first writer on Poetics who, before the Dhvanikara"3 and Anandavardhana,

il"Style", understood as a constellation of particular qualities [gunas] -- "sweetness", "strength", etc.) ; cf. below, Chapter Two, pp. 44-45 and Chapter Four, pp. 144-146.

12Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., p. 381.

13De is among those who hold that Anandavardhana composed only the prose vrtti portion of the Dhvanyaloka; "the Dhvanikara" is his name for the supposed anonymous author of the karika verses of the Dhvanyaloka -- cf. below, Chapter

9

gave us a well thought-out and carefully outlined scheme of Poetics, no longer naive or tentative, which in spite

valuable. of its theoretic defects, is in some respects unique and The enquiry as to what is the "soul" or essence of poetry is for the first time definitely posed and systematically worked out by Vāmana; his predecessors, to whom the "body" of poetry was more important, never having troubled themselves with this question. 14

But,

... it is obvious that the fundamental doctrine of the RIti school could not have been accepted in its entirety. Nor could it have competed against that of the Dhvanikara, because Vamana comprehended poetry only from the formal point of view, whereas the former showed a deeper insight into its inner nature. The more or less objective definition of the Riti, given by this school, was hardly enough to satisfy the search for ultimate principles. 15

For these authors, "the real essence of poetry" is dhvani, and

the theories of the early Alamkarikas, because they overlook

this fact (either setting up something else as the essence of

poetry or neglecting the question of poetry's essence

altogether) cannot but be seen as insufficient.

The general view of the post-Anandavardhana period in the

history of Alamkarasastra has been similarly reductive. Once

the "real essence of poetry" has been discovered by

Four, p. 120.

14De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 89-90. Vamana's treatment of poetic topics is not notably more systematic or logical than those of his predecessors. It would appear that for De, it is the discussion of the "soul" of poetry itself which makes Vamana's theory "well thought-out and carefully outlined" (and that it is the failure to discuss this "soul" which makes the theories of Vamana's predecessor "naive" and "tentative") .

15Ibid., p. 106.

10

Anandavardhana (or, at any rate, once Anandavardhana's dhvani-

theory has been defended against its critics and

authoritatively systematized by his followers Abhinavagupta

[c. 1000 AD] and Mammata [c. 1100 AD]), there is little

opportunity for significant contributions from later

Ālamkārikas. These Ālamkārikas must either reject

Anandavardhana's dhvani-theory, or accept Anandavardhana's

general view of the soul of poetry and direct their attention

toward matters of detail. Commenting on the predominance of

the dhvani-theory, S.K. De says, "Here and there an isolated

theorist arose who dared to question the general creed, but he

was at once put down as a heretic and condemned to neglect and

oblivion. "16 De labels those Alamkärikas who challenge the

dhvani-theory as "reactionary" theorists "whose feeble

opposition languished for want of support even in the time of

Mammata. "17 If Anandavardhana's dhvani is seen as the "real"

soul of poetry, then any attack on the dhvani-theory can only

be viewed as the result of the stubborn refusal to see the

light.

Yet those later Alamkarikas who accept Anandavardhana's

dhvani-theory are likewise looked down on. They can make no

further contribution to the "fundamental problem" of poetics --

that of the soul of poetry. We have seen that detailed

16De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 175.

17De, ibid., Vol. I, p. 325; cf. also Vol. II, pp. 179ff.

11

analysis and classification of the features of poetic

language -- the mainstay of Alamkarasastra from its origins --

has generally been viewed as a distraction from the proper

concern of literary aesthetics; yet, once the problem of the

"soul" of poetry has been definitively settled, matters of

detail are all that remain to be discussed. Consequently, the

works of the later pro-dhvani theorists are generally

stigmatized. As usual, De is most sweeping in his

condemnation:

With regard to matters of general theory and the main problems, the decadent Post-dhvani writers as a rule thought that there was nothing new to set forth; they consequently fell back on matters of detail which helped to satisfy their growing speculative passion for fine distinctions and their scholastic bent for controversy. It would be tedious, as well as useless, therefore, to treat them here at any great length, for they repeat more or less the same idea in their own way, sometimes in the same stock manner and phraseology, and differ from each other only in matters of importance. 18 no great theoretic

Krishnamoorthy likewise finds little of value in the

works of the later Ālamkārikas. He argues that once the

dhvani-theory has gained widespread acceptance, "original and

creative criticism is at an end; the earlier ideas are re-

interpreted in consolidated form. "19 Like De,

Krishnamoorthy sees these authors as overly concerned with the

analysis and classification of formal features:

18De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 216.

cit., p. 298. 19Krishnamoorthy, The Dhvanyaloka and its Critics, op.

12

it is significant to note that all these later writers swear to the all important nature of Dhvani in theory though in practice they indulge only in the classification, distinction, and illustration of the alamkāras. Thus the mighty stream of Dhvani which started with Anandavardhana was made to run in a narrow channel prescribed by Mammata, and the channel went on becoming narrower and narrower until at last the waters almost dried up in the sands of endless alamkāras.20

On this view, the post-dhvani Alamkārika is placed in a

seemingly inescapable bind; if he challenges the existence of

dhvani or its status as the soul of poetry he is labelled as

a reactionary, but if he accepts Anandavardhana's argument for

dhvani as the soul of poetry and turns his attention to other

matters his work is seen as unoriginal, overly scholastic, and

essentially trivial. If, as most sholarship on Alamkārasāstra

tends to assume, Anandavardhana's dhvani is the "real" soul of

poetry, then once this truth has been discovered there is no

real opportunity for further meaningful contributions to what

is widely seen as the fundamental problem of poetics. It

would seem that once the dhvani-theory has been propounded,

reaction and decadence are the only options available to an

Ālamkārika.

It should be clear from the foregoing that a rigid notion

of what should count as "properly aesthetic" concerns has

tended to produce a distorted and reductive account of the

history of Alamkarasastra. For the most part, scholars have

posed only one major question to the tradition -- What is the

"soul" of poetry ?-- and have been inclined to accept only one

20Ibid., p. 303.

13

answer -- dhvani. That most works of Alamkarasastra do not in

fact concern themselves with this question, or do so only in

passing, has been seen not as evidence for the need to

reevaluate the questions we pose to the tradition, but as a

sign of the primitive, inadequate, or decadent nature of these

works. If we wish to produce a serious account of the history

of Alamkāraśāstra, we must allow the Alamkārasāstra texts

themselves to tell us what the main concerns of Alamkarasastra

are. The works produced in the tradition of Alamkārasastra do

not simply provide various answers to a fixed question or set

of questions. The questions Alamkarikas pose in their

analyses of literature, as well as the tools and methods they

deploy in these analyses, develop significantly over time, and

any meaningful history of Alamkarasastra must attempt to chart

these developments and offer some explanation for them.

An important challenge to the dominant, monolithic,

dhvani-centered view of the history of Alamkārasastra has been

offered by Edwin Gerow.21 Gerow's primary concern is to

relegitimate the formalist aesthetic of the pre-Anandavardhana

Ālamkārikas. He sees the mode of analysis practiced by these

Ālamkārikas as particularly appropriate to the classical

Sanskrit poetry with which it was designed to deal, and argues

that it has been unfairly denigrated by modern scholars

21Primarily in his Glossary of Indian Figures of Speech (The Hague: Mouton, 1971) and his Indian Poetics (Vol. V, fasc. 3 in A History of Indian Literature, ed. Jan Gonda, Otto Harrassowitz: Wiesbaden, 1977).

14

partial to the later dhvani-theory (cf. below, Chapter Two,

pp. 39ff).

Certainly Gerow is right that the works of these

Alamkarikas ought to be be viewed on their own terms and not

as more or less defectively approximating (or more or less

egregiously removed from) the later dhvani-theory; and Gerow

has made important strides in recovering the distinctive

understanding of literary analysis found in the works of these

early Ālamkarikas. Nevertheless, Gerow's account of the rise

of Anandavardhana's dhvani-theory and the displacement of this

earlier mode of literary analysis is no more satisfying than

that offered by proponents of a dhvani-centered view of the

history of the discipline.

Because Gerow is arguing for the "adequacy" of pre-

Anandavardhana Alamkārasāstra to the analysis of classical

Sanskrit poetry, he is reluctant to acknowledge that the

approach of the early Alamkarikas was ultimately found wanting

in comparison with that of Anandavardhana and his followers.

For Gerow, the dhvani-theory comes to displace this earlier

poetic not because it provides what comes to be seen as a more

satisfying analysis of existing poetry, but because it follows

the rise of a new kind of poetry -- devotional poetry or "the

religious lyric" -- to which the new poetic is specifically

appropriate (as the earlier poetic was to the poetry of the

classical era).

Gerow observes (rightly) that Anandavardhana's dhvani-

15

theory combines existing poetic theory (Alamkarasastra) with

elements drawn from the historically distinct but related

discipline of dramaturgy (Natyasastra) ; he assumes that this

convergence between poetic and dramaturgical theory

necessarily implies a collapse in practice of the distinction

between drama and poetry (which he sees as merging to form a

new kind of "dramatic" devotional poetry).

But the theory does not develop in a vacuum. interest in elaborating a theory whereby one can unify The

the arts (or at least drama and strophic poetry) should presuppose some strategic event occurring in the arts themselves which at least suggests the opportunity for such rapprochement. It is not difficult to link what we know to have happened to Sanskrit letters in the post- Gupta and pre-Islamic period with the theoretical

With reevaluation that we find full-blown in Anandavardhana. the collapse of the stable, wealthy sophisticated Gupta monarchy, and the time of troubles and

that ensued, Sanskrit drama lost both its audience (never more than the society of sophisticates attracted to the imperial courts and cities) and its means of support (what we presume to have been societies of wealthy literati -- and of course the king himself) ... continued to be written, but we presume, were rarely Dramas

performed ... But oddly enough, as drama ceased to be a living art form, and was brought more and more into conformity with the rather academic style of the non- sophisticate [?] pundit, its distinctive principle22 was being used as the basis for explaining the growing rapprochement of genres ...

On the side of strophic poetry, changes too were taking place, reflecting the new contexts in which poetry was used. We see growing devotionalism, and the employment of song, and also music, even marked shifts away from Sanskrit to various vernaculars. Poetry was becoming de- sophisticated (though poetry on classical lines continues to be written in an increasingly academic and un-

22T.e. rasa (aestheticized emotion), which was first discussed in the field of dramaturgy, and which Anandavardhana takes to be the primary determinant of poetic excellence.

16

'courtly'23 vein, paralleling the drama); its socially alive forms did move with the times, and came under the sway of social, inevitably popular religious, movements that were seeking new ways to express their needs. [emphasis mine] 24

As Gerow sees it, it is this new "de-sophisticated"

poetry which is the appropriate subject matter for dhvani-

based poetics and which accounts for the rise of the dhvani

theory.

It is our view that this marriage of two distinct traditions25 would not have been possible, theoretical exercise, if the genres to even as a which they referred had not in fact largely lost their respective identities. Poetics, in India as anywhere else, follows poetry ... There was no genre in early classical times which corresponded to that implied by the dhvani theory ...

The poetic form properly corresponding to the dhvani theory is a genre which developed slowly in the late classical period and later became the only really viable literary art in India, the renascent lyric (older stotras, as those of Bana or Mayura, are definitely within the classical kavya style). The lyric devotional. poem is best epitomized in the marvelous Gitagovinda of Jayadeva, but is more voluminously represented in the several vernacular literatures. This genre is in fact dramatic poetry; poetry with a narrative basis in the divine event and intended to convey the emotional fervor of the bhakta ... The poetry itself begins and ends in the service of an increasingly religious ideal: devotion to a personal God ... The poetics of devotional poetry has never been more profoundly explored than in the dhvani school which continues today to dominate Indian

23In what sense un-'courtly'? Royal patronage of Sanskrit poetry "along classical lines" continues unabated throughout the medieval period; this remains the primary basis of support for the producers of "academic", "sophisticated" poetry.

24Gerow, Indian Poetics, op. cit., pp. 251-252.

25I.e. Alamkārasāstra and Nātyasāstra, elements of which are mingled in the dhvani-theory.

17

thinking on poetics. [emphasis mine] 26

Because Anandavardhana's dhvani-theory (unlike the formalist

aesthetic of his predecessors) lays special emphasis on the

emotional content of poetry, Gerow sees it as particularly

apprpriate to the analysis of poetry designed to portray and

evoke the emotion of religious devotion (bhakti) . His

assumption that any significant alteration in poetic theory

necessarily presupposes some transformation in poetry itself

leads him to believe that it is the rise of devotional poetry

which explains the genesis of the dhvani-theory and its

displacement of the figure-centered poetic of the early

Ālamkārikas.

Gerow's account of the rise of the dhvani-theory is

untenable on several grounds. First and foremost, in the

world of Sanskrit, Prakrit and Apabhramsa literature -- that

literature with which all Sanskrit Alamkarasastra is

exclusively concerned -- the shift in literary practice which

Gerow sees as explaining this theoretical transformation

simply does not occur. Gerow mentions only one Sanskrit

example of a "lyric devotional poem", the (twelfth century)

Gitagovinda. While this work (which, of course, post-dates

Anandavardhana by several hundred years) certainly proved to

be important and popular, it is far from a typical

representative of Sanskrit poetry of its own period or of any

26Gerow, A Glossary of Indian Fiqures of Speech, op. cit., p. 80.

18

other; indeed, apart from a few later imitative works,27 it

is virtually in a class by itself. The overwhelming

preponderance of later Sanskrit poetry is, in Gerow's phrase,

"poetry on classical lines" and "within the classical kāvya

style", and it is this poetry (and not Gerow's "socially

alive" and "really viable" devotional lyrics) which continues

to absorb the attention of the Ālamkārikas (including

Anandavardhana and his followers)

As Gerow himself rightly notes, the kind of "devotional

lyric" he sees as the appropriate object of dhvani-based

literary analysis is typical not of Sanskrit poetry, but of

the poetry of the various regional vernaculars. Yet this

regional vernacular poetry is wholly ignored by

Anandavardhana, and, in fact, by all Sanskrit Ālamkārikas. It

is hard to see how one can reasonably argue that

Anandavardhana's reformulation of poetic theory was shaped by

a body of literature of which he displays no awareness

whatsoever.

There is no evidence in the Dhvanyaloka itself that the

question of religious devotion (bhakti) plays any special role

in Ānandavardhana's poetics (and Gerow makes no attempt to

find any). Certainly there are among the many poetic examples

cited in the Dhvanyaloka several benedictory or other verses

dedicated to the praise of one god or another (which might

27Cf. M. Krishnamachariar, History of Classical Sanskrit Literature, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1989 [reprint], pp. 343-4.

19

therefore reasonably be described as "devotional"). But this

is true of the works of Anandavardhana's predecessors as well;

there is nothing in Anandavardhana's selection of examples to

suggest that he sees "devotional" poetry as an especially

important type of poetry, or as an especially appropriate test

case for his aesthetic theory.

While Anandavardhana's poetic theory, with its emphasis

on rasa, does give greater prominence to the emotional content

of poetry than those of earlier Ālamkärikas, there is nothing

in Anandavardhana's presentation of this theory to indicate

that religious devotion is in any way privileged over other

forms of emotional content; quite the contrary.

Anandavardhana's acceptance of Udbhata's typology of rasas and.

rasa-like phenomena28 would seem to indicate that for him, as

for Udbhata, religious devotion is not a rasa at all; on this

view love for a god, like all forms of non-sexual love (e.g.

love for a parent, child, or teacher) is a manifestation of

the bhava rati ("attraction") which, not being directed toward

an appropriate sexual partner, cannot develop into full-

fledged śrīgāra- ("erotic") rasa.29 Of course, this

28T.e. rasa, bhava, rasa- and bhava-abhasa, and rasa-, bhava- and abhasa-prasama; cf. below, Chapter Two, pp. 52-58 and Chapter Four, p. 133.

29Certainly this is the view of Anandavardhana's most important followers, Abhinavagupta and Mammata (cf. Locana on Dhvanyaloka 2.5 [ed. Pattābhirāma SāstrI, Kashi Sanskrit Series 135, Benares, 1940], pp. 191-2], and Kavyaprakāsa, Mysore: Oriental Research Institute Series 120, 1974, Vol. I, pp. 284-5).

20

conclusion regarding Anandavardhana's view of religious

devotion is necessarily hypothetical, since Anandavardhana

nowhere explicitly discusses such devotion or its role in

poetry.

The term bhakti, in its sense of religious devotion,

occurs only once in the Dhvanyaloka, in a verse of his own

which Anandavardhana cites as an example of the merging

(samkara) of an expressed alamkāra with a type of dhvani;30

the devotional character of the verse has no bearing on its

exemplary function, and Anandavardhana allows it to pass

without comment. It seems clear, then, that there is nothing

in Anandavardhana's selection of literary examples, or in his

presentation of his aesthetic theory, to suggest that the role

of devotionalism in poetry concerned him at all, let alone

that it was a major driving force in his formulation of this

theory.

Furthermore, Gerow' s claim that Anandavardhana's

transformation of literary theory is driven by changes in

literature itself completely ignores, and flies in the face

of, Anandavardhana's own explanation of the significance of

his theory and its relation to literary practice.

Anandavardhana defends his theoretically novel concept of

dhvani not with reference to some new body of dhvani-centered

poetry, but by attempting to demonstrate the pervasive

presence of dhvani in the recognized classics of Sanskrit

30Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 508-9.

21

literature -- the very same literature with which earlier

Alamkarikas were most centrally concerned. Anandavardhana

repeatedly argues that dhvani has played a central role in

poetry from its very origins.31 By his account, previous

Ālamkārikas failed to discuss dhvani not because they dealt

with an earlier literature in which dhvani played little or no

role, but because their analysis focussed on the directly

expressed level of meaning in poetry, rather than its

implicit, suggested meaning (conveyed by dhvani) .32

So, Anandavardhana's own account of his theory stresses

its applicability to just that literature for which Gerow

finds it to be inappropriate. There is nothing in

Anandavardhana's explanation of dhvani, or in his selection of

verses which exemplify it, to indicate that his innovations in

aesthetic theory are prompted by the rise of a new kind of

"devotional lyric" poetry. It is hard to see anything in

Anandavardhana's aesthetic theory or analytic practice which

would support Gerow's account of the rise of dhvani-based

poetics. What really drives this account is not a close

analysis of the works of Anandavardhana and his followers, or

of the development of Sanskrit literature during this period,

but an unquestioned assumption about the relationship between

poetic theory and practice.

31Cf. Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 84-93, 364-5, 529ff. and below, Chapter Four, p. 132.

32Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 47-49.

22

It is Gerow's contention that "Poetics, in India as

anywhere else, follows poetry"; for him, a major shift in

poetic theory necessarily presupposes, and can only be

explained by, a change in poetic practice. Anandavardhana' s

work certainly represents such a theoretical shift, so some

such change in literary practice must have taken place.

Devotional fervor is an emotional state, and Anandavardhana's

theory gives greater prominence to the emotional content of

poetry than its predecessors, so the rise of the "devotional

lyric" (though evident primarily in the vernacular

literatures -- ignored by the Ālamkārikas -- and certainly not

typical even of late Sanskrit poetry) seems a likely candidate

for such a theory-transforming change. The assumption that

changes in literary theory necessarily derive from changes in

literary practice forecloses another possibility: that a shift

in theory may be prompted by developments within the community

of theoreticians. As we shall see, this possibility opens a

far more promising avenue for explaining the rise of the

dhvani-theory and the eventual displacement of the formalist

poetic of the early Alamkarikas -- one which certainly finds

far more support in the works of Anandavardhana, his critics,

and his followers.

A useful model for analyzing the theoretical

transformation in ninth-century Kashmiri Alamkarasāstra can be

found in the works of the historian and philosopher of

science, Thomas Kuhn. In his The Structure of Scientific

23

Revolutions, Kuhn outlines a pattern of historical development

he finds to be typical of the sciences. Kuhn argues that,

contrary to the stereoptypical view, scientific knowledge does

not advance through a steady process of cumulative discovery.

Rather, an examination of the history of scientific knowledge

in any field reveals a discontinuous pattern of development:

long periods of theoretical and methodological stability

punctuated by occasional crises in which new theories and

modes of scientific practice displace existing ones -- what

Kuhn calls scientific revolutions. I would argue that the

rise of the dhvani-theory and its displacement of the

formalist mode of aesthetic analysis practiced by the early

Älamkärikas may profitably be viewed as something very like a

Kuhnian "scientific revolution".33

For Kuhn, the discontinuous, non-cumulative development

of scientific knowledge is explained by nature of scientific

33Whether or not we would wish to describe Alamkārasāstra as a science, the community of Alamkārikas possesses many of the features Kuhn sees as typical of scientific communities, and as crucially relevant to the pattern of development they display (cf. Kuhn, op. cit., pp. 162ff). Alamkārasāstra is practiced by a small community of highly trained specialists; the primary audience for Alamkara works (or at least the audience whose judgement seems to count most in determining the success or failure of such works) is the Ālamārika community itself. For long periods of time, members of the community operate under conditions of general agreement regarding the nature of their subject matter and the methods appropriate to their field. Kuhn himself observes that the kind of community structure he sees as typical of the sciences

Western may sometimes be observed in other fields; for example, in painting during the period when representation was presumed to be its proper goal (ibid., p. realistic

161. .

24

communities and of the "paradigms" which guide their

researches. For Kuhn, what defines a mature scientific

community is its operation in accordance with a particular

paradigm -- a body of theoretical and methodological premises,

largely tacit, which regulate the activities of members of the

communities. The paradigm is a "constellation of group

commitments" which not only shapes a scientific community's

view of the world, but provides criteria for deciding what

problems constitute the legitimate concerns of scientific

research and what kinds of explanations may be countenanced as

solutions to such problems."4

A scientific community whose activities are governed by

a stable paradigm is practicing what Kuhn calls "normal

science". During periods of normal science the currently

reigning paradigm is assumed without question to be adequate

to the task of explaining those phenomena with which the

scientific community in question is concerned. Normal

scientific activity is not designed in any way to test the

validity of the paradigm or to seek alternatives to it; as

Kuhn says, "Normal science does not aim at novelties of fact

or theory and, when successful, finds none. "35 Rather,

taking the validity of the paradigm for granted, members of

the scientific community seek, through their researches, to

34Cf. Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, Chicago University of Chicago Press enlarged ed.], 1970], pp. 40-42, 181-187. [second

35Ibid., p. 52.

25

extend the application of the paradigm to previously

unexplained phenomena, to derive more precise predictions from

existing theory (and to produce more precise experimental data

to confirm these predictions), and to show how any apparently

anomalous data can be adequately accounted for in terms of

existing theory.36

It is precisely because they accept the validity of their

paradigm without question that normal scientific communities

are so successful in producing detailed and specific

explanations of the phenomena with which they deal. According

to Kuhn,

once the reception of a common paradigm has freed the scientific community from the examine its first principles, need constantly to re- the members of that community can concentrate exclusively upon the subtlest and most esoteric of the phenomena that concern it. Inevitably that does increase both the effectiveness and the efficiency with which the group as a whole solves new problems.37

And,

By focusing attention on a small range of relatively esoteric problems, the paradigm forces scientists to investigate some part of nature in a detail and depth that would otherwise be unimaginable.38

The existence of a shared paradigm allows for a concentration

of professional attention and investigative effort which would

not otherwise be possible, and thereby greatly enhances the

problem-solving ability of the community for which the

36Ibid., pp. 23ff.

37Ibid., pp. 163-4.

38Tbid., p. 24.

26

paradigm is operative.

Yet a shared paradigm will not always guide research

effectively. The paradigm creates a set of expectations,

often very specific, regarding experimental results: when

observed data fail to conform to these expectations, they

represent an anomaly which poses a problem for scientists.

All scientific theories are regularly confronted by such

anomalies, but these do not ordinarily threaten the stability

of the dominant paradigm; it is assumed that they will

eventually be resolved by further research or by elaboration

of the theory in question. However, if such anomalies prove

to be sufficiently numerous or intractable, they create a

sense of crisis in the field, possibly paving the way for the

rise of a new paradigm.39

It is only when the dominant paradigm is faltering in

this way that the opportunity for radical innovation arises;

as long as the current paradigm serves as an effective guide

for research, there is nothing to prompt a search for

alternatives.40 Under such conditions of crisis, a new

theory may be propounded -- one under which the anomalies

confronting existing theory are satisfactorily accounted for.

If the new theory is able to gain even a few converts, and if

it proves for them to be an effective guide for further

research, it will gradually come to be seen as an attractive

39Cf. ibid., pp. 66ff. and pp. 77-80.

40Cf. ibid., p. 76.

27

alternative to the currently dominant theory. The new theory

(and, with it, a new set of research practices and

methodological commitments) will gain more and more adherents,

especially among new entrants to the field, and eventually

will come to dominate the field. Adherents of older theories

or modes of practice will fade from relevance and eventually

die off, and the community will embark on a new period of

normal scientific research, under the guidance of a new

paradigm.

This kind of shift in group commitments, in which one

paradigm is abandoned in favor of another, is what Kuhn calls

a "scientific revolution". The shift to a new paradigm

entails not merely an addition to or expansion of existing

scientific knowledge, but rather a fundamental transformation

and reconfiguration of it. Indeed, as Kuhn sees it, the

transformation of existing knowledge brought on by a paradigm

shift is so radical that, in a very real sense, scientists

operating under a new paradigm are living in a new and

different world.i1

Seen in the light of the Kuhnian model of paradigm-guided

research, the development of Kashmiri Alamkārasastra and

Anandavardhana's role within it become more readily

explicable. Those features of pre-Anandavardhana and of post-

Mammata Alamkārasāstra which have so troubled and even

repelled modern scholars -- its persistent focus on matters of

41Ibid., pp. 111ff.

28

detail and its near total unconcern with fundamental aesthetic

questions -- become not merely understandable but entirely

predictable. During these periods, the behavior of

Ālamkārikas is precisely what one would expect of a research

community engaged in "normal science". As long as the

formalist paradigm governing the researches of the early

Ālamkārikas was functioning effectively, they might be

expected to ignore fundamental questions and concentrate their

attention on more specific and esoteric problems.42 It is

only when the dominant paradigm is faltering and a new

paradigm candidate is struggling for acceptance that one would

expect consideration of fundamental theoretical issues to come

42Given the tendency to divide the early Alamkārikas into rival schools (the alamkara-, rīti- and rasa-schools -- cf. above, pp. 36-37), one could argue that the history of the field before Anandavardhana might more appropriately be viewed as its "pre-paradigm period" -- a time when research is carried on under multiple, incompatible theories, and their is as yet no single dominant paradigm (ibid., pp. 10ff). I will argue, however (below, Chapter Two, pp. 45-47), that the grouping of the early Alamkarikas into "schools" is superficial and masks a basic agreement among them regarding the nature of poetic beauty and the proper methods of poetic analysis. case, significant deviation from an alamkāra-based poetic In any

emerges only in the works of Vamana (c. 800 AD) and Rudrata (c. 825 AD) -- Dandin [c. 750 AD], often classified with Vamana as a member of the "riti-school", states clearly that all elements which beautify poetic language, including gunas, are alamkāras (cf. Kāvyādarša 2.1-3). Both Vamana and Rudrata incorporate thorough analyses of the alamkaras in their work, but give prominence to other poetic elements which they treat as distinct from the alamkaras: gunas ("qualities", the formal constituents of ritis) in Vamana's case, rasa in Rudrata's. Both these authors are near predecessors of Anandavardhana, and the deviations from alamkära-based analysis in their works may be seen as a preliminary indication of breakdown in the dominant paradigm; as Kuhn says, "proliferation of versions of a theory is a very usual symptom of crisis" (Ibid., p. 71).

29

to the fore -- exactly what happened in Kashmiri Alamkārasastra

beginning in the mid-ninth century. When, in the wake of

Mammata's Kavyaprakaśa, controversy over Anandavardhana's

dhvani subsides and the new paradigm reigns unchallenged,

questions regarding the fundamental bases of the field recede

from prominence and attention is once again directed toward

more specialized problems.

The transformation of Alamkāraśāstra initiated by

Ānandavardhana also resembles a scientific revolution in that

it totally reconfigures existing knowledge in the field,

rather than merely adding something to it. Anandavardhana's

work does not simply add a previously unrecognized poetic

element -- dhvani -- to those already dealt with by earlier

theorists; rather, it develops a completely new understanding

of the nature of poetic beauty and of the kind of question

with which literary analysis must deal.

For the early Ālamkarikas, poetry is language rendered

beautiful by the incorporation within it of a variety of

individually beautiful formal components (figures of speech,

etc.); these beautifying components function independently,

and without regard to the contexts in which they are employed.

The role of literary analysis, as these early theorists see

it, is to provide a catalogue, as exhaustive as possible, of

the formal elements which poets have employed or may employ to

beautify their works (and of those features [dosas -- "poetic

defects"] which detract from the beauty of a work and should

30

be avoided) .

Ānandavardhana completely overturns this particularistic

understanding of literary beauty. For him, the formal

components of a poetic work do not operate independently;

rather, they are part of a hierarchically ordered and

functionally unified whole. Any coherent literary work must

be directed toward a single, overriding goal -- typically, the

communication of a single, dominant rasa -- to which all the

component elements of the work must be directly or indirectly

subordinated. Hence, the alamkäras and other formal poetic

features analyzed by previous Alamkārikas are to be valued not

for their intrinsic beauty, but for their ability to

contribute to the overall goals of the particular works in

which they are employed. Questions of context, wholly

irrelevant to earlier literary analysis, suddenly assume

tremendous importance. Features which are aesthetically

valuable in one setting may be detrimental in another,

depending on the larger aesthetic goals of the works or

passages in which they are introduced. Obviously, literary

analysis can no longer limit itself to the cataloguing of

discrete formal features. These features must be considered

not in isolation, but with a view toward their functional

relationships with each other and with the larger textual

units in which they are embedded. One must always ask not

only whether a particular element is beautiful in and of

itself, but whether it is appropriate to the aesthetic

31

objective of the work viewed as a whole. By shifting the

focus of attention from the isolated components of poetic

language to the complete, functionally unified text,

Anandavardhana opens up new possibilities in the area of

literary criticism; literary analysis demands, in addition to

the study of generalized and repeatable poetic features, the

examination of particular existing literary compositions,

viewed as wholes. Thus Anandavardhana's revolutionary

transformation of poetic theory entails a completely new

understanding of the nature of literary beauty and of the

proper task of literary analysis.

In his application of Kuhnian paradigm-analysis to the

history of political theory, J.G.A. Pocock introduces several

notions which would seem to shed a useful light on the

development of Kashmiri Alamkarasastra from the ninth to the

eleventh century. One is the idea that paradigms may

sometimes be transferred from one discipline to another; he

argues that the paradigms of legal, theological, or economic

theory have at times been brought into play in the realm of

political thought, shaping its development in important ways.

Another is the idea that paradigm transference of this kind

may have consequences unforeseen and unintended by those who

bring it about. For Pocock, the paradigms governing political

theory are "languages", sets of conceptual terms and

categories through which discussion is conducted; when a new

"language" is introduced, it brings with it a new set of

32

presuppositions and implications, foregrounding certain issues

and marginalizing others. By applying a new conceptual

vocabulary within an existing field, one alters the

possibilities of expression within that field in ways one

cannot control.43

The transformation of Kashmiri Alamkärasastra in the

ninth century involves a paradigm transfer of this kind. As

we shall see, the hierarchical model of textual organization

on which Anandavardhana bases his approach to literary

analysis is not original to him. It is rather the

application, within the realm of Alamkārasastra, of a model

first developed in the field of MImamsa (Vedic exegesis). For

the Mimamsakas any coherent text (Vedic or otherwise) must be

functionally unified; the text must have a single, overriding

purpose, and all its component elements must ultimately

subserve this purpose. Interpretation must proceed

teleologically: the significance of every sentence, every

word, every morpheme in a text must be assessed in terms of

its relation to some single, ultimate goal. The need to

maintain the functional unity of complete texts guides the

43Cf. J.G.A. Pocock, Politics, Lanquage and Time (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989 [second ed.]), pp. 3-41 (especially pp. 21-26). The usefulness of Pocock's paradigm analysis for the history of political theory is best displayed in his The Macchiavellian Moment: Florentine Political Thought and the Atlantic Republican Tradition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975), which carefully charts the deployment of the conceptual vocabulary of Italian republicanism in seventeenth century English constitutional renaissance

theory and its effects on the subsequent development of British and early American political thought.

33

Mīmamsakas at every turn in their interpretation of particular

Vedic words and sentences. Anandavardhana applies the same

understanding of textual coherence to the analysis of literary

works and, with it, many of the specific interpretive concepts

and techniques devised by the Mīmamsakas. The language of

Mīmāmsa interpretive theory suddenly assumes a major role in

the discussion of literary texts, a role which it continues to

bear in the works of later Ālamkārikas.

However, the adoption of the Mimamsakas' mode of talking

and thinking about texts pushes Alamkārasastra in directions

seemingly unintended by Anandavardhana himself.

Anandavardhana's interest in teleological text analysis of the

kind practiced by the Mīmamsakas stems primarily from its

usefulness as an evaluative tool. It provides a reliable

criterion for literary criticism -- one may judge existing

literary works in terms of the effectiveness with which their

individual components work together to convey a single,

predominant rasa -- and a basis for the formulation of rules to

guide future poets in composing aesthetically effective

works -- certain features of composition may be shown to be

appropriate for works intended to convey one rasa but

inappropriate for works intended to convey another. But the

adoption of the Mimamsa interpretive paradigm raises new

theoretical questions which increasingly absorb the attention

of the Kashmiri Alamkarikas, and which serve ultimately to

marginalize considerations of literary criticism and

34

compositional rules.44 Discussion comes to focus more and

more on the cognitive process by which poetic meaning is

understood, and less and less on the requirements of poetic

composition; Alamkārasāstra becomes something like an

epistemology of poetic comprehension, just as Mimamsa serves,

in effect, as an epistemology of Vedic comprehension.45

Chapter Two of this dissertation will examine the

paradigm guiding the analyses of Anandavardhana's predecessors

in the field of Alamkarasastra, and the anomalies which faced

these authors in their efforts to explain the role of rasa in

poetry -- anomalies which paved the way for Anandavardhana's

theoretical innovations. Chapter Three will briefly examine

the Mimamsakas' approach to textual analysis. Chapters Four

through Six will deal with Anandavardhana's application of

this teleological mode of analysis to the study of poetic

975 44The one major exception to this tendency is Kuntaka (c.

Anandavardhana's pioneering efforts in the area of literary AD) who, in his Vakroktijīvita, follows up on

criticism and for the most part sidesteps the questions of semantic theory with which his contemporaries concern themselves. But, as we shall see (cf. below, Chapter Eight), Kuntaka's avoidance of these questions is coupled with a general rejection of Anandavardhana's teleological, Mīmāmsa- derived model of textual coherence. Precisely because he rejects the Mimamsa paradigm and avoids the semantic questions it raises, Kuntaka's work, whatever its intrinsic merits, is largely irrelevant to what have by his time become the central

Ālamkārikas. questions of Alamkarasastra, and is generally ignored by later

45The real mission of Mimamsa is not to discover the proper procedure for particular rituals enjoined in the Veda -- this is already common knowledge -- but to show how exactly we can know that the Vedic text authorizes just this procedure and no other.

35

language, the encounter with extra-poetic language philosophy

precipitated by his new theory of literary semantics, and his

efforts in the area of literary criticism. Chapters Seven

through Ten will examine the response to Anandavardhana's

theoretical innovations in the works of the major Kashmiri

Alamkärikas up to the end of the eleventh century (after which

time the controversy raised by Anandavardhana's work subsides

and the dhvani-theory gains more or less universal

acceptance) .46

46The confinement of attention to Kashmir is justifiable. During this period Kashmiri Alamkarasastra is entirely self- contained; while literary and dramatic theorists working outside Kashmir (e.g. Rajasekhara [c. 900], Dhanika [c. 1000], and Bhoja [c. 1050]) are well aware of recent developments in Kashmiri aesthetic theory and respond to them in their works, the Kashmiri theorists wholly ignore these non-Kashmiri works. This intellectual isolation is not general: while the Kashmiri Ālamkārikas pay no attention to non-Kashmiri works on aesthetic theory, they quickly become aware of, and draw examples from, new literary works from outside Kashmir -- e.g., while Rajasekhara's work on poetics is entirely overlooked, his plays, especially his Balaramayana, are among the most frequently quoted texts in late-tenth and eleventh century Kashmiri works on aesthetic theory.

CHAPTER TWO EARLY ALAMKARASASTRA AND THE PROBLEM OF RASA

The Alamkarikas who predate Anandavardhana have, by and

large, fared poorly at the hands of modern scholars. Because

Anandavardhana's theory of rasa-dhvani has been so widely seen

as the crowning triumph of Indian aesthetic theory, the works

of earlier Alamkārikas have tended to be viewed almost

exclusively through the lens of this later development. These

works have been scoured for any stray observations which may

be seen as anticipations or primitive formulations of elements

of the dhvani theory, while the task which absorbs most of the

attention of these Ālamkārikas -- the definition,

exemplification, and categorization of those phonetic and

semantic features which add beauty to poetic language and of

those features which detract from it (and are thus to be

avoided) -- has been for the most part denigrated and seen as

marginal to the "real" concerns of aesthetic theory.

There are five pre-Anandavardhana Ālamkarikas whose works

survive: Bhamaha (c. 700 AD), Dandin (c. 750 AD), Udbhata (c.

800 AD), Vamana (c. 800 AD), and Rudrata (c. 825 AD). Of

these, Bhamaha, Udbhata, and Rudrata are usually labelled as

"The Alamkara School" (because they are thought to regard

figures of speech [alamkäras] as the primary determinant of

beauty in poetic language) 1, and Dandin and Vamana as "The

1Cf. Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 372ff, and De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 32ff.

36

37

Rīti School" (because they are thought to ascribe a central

role in creating poetic beauty to riti ["style", understood as

a particular constellation of poetic qualities (gunas) --

tenderness, strength, clarity, and so on] ) .2

Although these writers are rigidly divided into "schools"

based on what each appears to regard as the fundamental

principle of poetic beauty (alamkāra or rīti), they are

generally seen as paying insufficient attention to these

fundamental principles, and as overly concerned with the

minutiae of definition and classification, to the exclusion of

properly aesthetic or poetic questions (in contrast to

Anandavardhana, who is seen as showing a proper concern for

his central aesthetic principle, dhvani, and as relatively

unconcerned with such "external" features as alamkaras)

Krishnamoorthy sums up the conventional appraisal of these

authors quite well:

Most of these early theorists are fond of formalism and attention to minute details. In their treatment of individual excellences we miss a philosophical approach. They are content with enunciating rules of rhetoric and illustrating them with examples taken at random ... Their tone smacks of dogmatism while their discussion is scholastic, aesthetic analysis remaining perfunctory ...

2Cf. Kane, ibid., pp. 378ff, and De, ibid., pp. 75ff. All these authors deal with many factors in poetry and, with the exception of Vamana, do not explicitly declare any one of these elements to be the "soul" or essence of poetry, so there is some disagreement regarding the "schools" to which certain authors should be assigned; Dandin is sometimes said to belong to the "Alamkara-" rather than the "Riti-school" (cf. Kane, op. cit., pp. 373-374), and Rudrata is sometimes grouped with Bharata (reputed author of the dramaturgical Natyasastra) as

11). a member of the "Rasa-school" (cf. Sharma, op. cit., pp. 10-

38

Though we cannot say that they lacked in literary insight, we feel the lack of depth in their formal categories. The value of these theories is in the good promise they held out for a future writer, the author of the Dhvanyaloka, to rise on their shoulders and perfect a theory free from their drawbacks. "3

The effort these authors devote to the careful differentiation

and definition of figures of speech (alamkāras) and poetic

qualities (gunas) is seen as marginal to those questions which

ought to be of most concern to literary aestheticians.4 It

is recognized that these authors' approach to poetic analysis

differs markedly from that of Anandavardhana and his

followers, but this approach is not considered as a serious

3Krishnamoorthy, The Dhvanyaloka and its Critics, op. cit., pp. 21-22. Cf. also De on Bhamaha (History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 38-9), "We must not yet look to his work, nor to that of his follower Udbhata, for a thoroughly critical system. conceptions, but We can deduce certain broad the practical object, underlying the speculation of this school in general, and its more or less normative character did not allow sufficient scope for purely theoretic treatment"; and on Rudrata (Ibid., p. 66), "Indeed, the practical nature and scope of his work, like that of Udbhata's, leave hardly any room for discussion of general principles or of speculative aspects of the involved. questions Rhetoric rather than Poetics appears to be his principle theme, as it is of most writers of this system who concern themselves entirely with the elaboration of rhetorical categories in which they suppose the whole charm of poetry lies."

The occasional observations these authors make in passing on what appear to be fundamental aesthetic principles are sometimes treated as their most important contributions to the development of Alamkarasastra. E.g. Bhamaha's mention (in Kāvyālamkāra 2.85) of vakrokti ("oblique expression") as an element common to all figures (cf. De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 47ff, 102, and below, Chapter Six, pp. 276-277) and Vamana's description (Kavyalamkārasutra 1.2.6) of rīti as the "soul" (atman) of poetry (cf. Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 380-381 De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 102-3; also above, Chapter One, pp. 7-9 and below, Chapter Four, pp. 144-146).

39

alternative. It is treated only as a failure to hit on the

"right" approach -- i.e. Anandavardhana's approach.

One of the few serious attempts to circumvent this

tendency can be seen in the works of Edwin Gerow.5 Gerow sees

the formalist poetic of the early Alamkārikas as a useful and

viable approach to literary analysis, one that he argues is

entirely appropriate to the stanzaic poetry typical of

classical Sanskrit. He criticizes the standard view of the

early Ālamkārikas as skewed by a focus on later developments:

Contemporary critics have too long been dependent on the reformulation of the alamkara theory proposed by the dhvani writers, Anandavardhana and Abhinavagupta, for whom the alamkārika6 viewpoint is deprived of its independent status and reduced to a moment in a more all- embracing view. Histories of Indian poetics have been little more than attempts to justify this ex post facto subordination. The theory should be considered in its own terms and not for what defects may be predicated of it in terms of another aesthetic.7

Gerow argues, rightly, that if we wish to fully understand the

works of these Alamkärikas we must make an effort to view them

in their own terms, not in those of later theorists; I will

5Chiefly in his Glossary of Indian Figures of Speech (The Hague: Mouton, 1971) and Indian Poetics (Vol. V, fasc. 3 in A History of Indian Literature [ed. Jan Gonda], Wiesbaden, Otto Harrassowitz, 1977) .

6Gerow generally uses the term alamkārika to refer only to the pre-Anandavardhana aestheticians (because, in comparison with later authors, they stress the importance of figures of speech -- alamkāras -- in poetry). restricted usage has no precedent in the Sanskrit tradition, But this

in which the term Alamkarika refers to any practitioner of Alamkarasastra, regardless of his views on the relative importance of alamkāras in poetry.

Gerow, A Glossary of Indian Fiqures of Speech, op. cit., p. 70.

40

argue further that we cannot properly make sense of the

radical transformation of Alamkārasāstra brought about by

Anandavardhana's Dhvanyaloka unless we understand the internal

logic of his predecessors' approach to poetic analysis. These

early Ālamkārikas were not misguided or ineffective

practitioners of discipline later perfected by

Ānandavardhana; they were engaged in a quite different

enterprise.

The Formalist Paradigm of Literary Aesthetics

The early Alamkarikas were not striving for, and failing

to achieve, a holistic theory of poetic beauty; their

understanding of the nature of poetic language made the

articulation of general or underlying principles largely

superfluous to the business of literary analysis. Again,

Gerow is instructive:

Indeed, if the older alamkārika poetic is, as we assert, a study of the capacities of poetic diction, little purpose would be served in expounding a universal theory, (such as "ambiguity, ") for it is only in variety that figuration constitutes a "universe" of discourse Bhamaha's mention of vakrokti is a summation, 'theory' ... Put in another way, telling a poet he must nota

speak "deviously" does not help us understand what in fact he says. The interest, both for poet and for audience, is in how he does it in practice, not in his intention.ª

@Gerow, Indian Poetics, op. cit., p. 235. Yet even Gerow cannot resist the temptation to see in these authors' works a more "general" concern than the definition and exemplification of particular figures and qualities. He sees the analysis of these particular elements as driven by the need to find criteria for the differentiation of poetic from non-poetic discourse: "Having situated the poetic problem in a formalistic context, we must now pose the question (following the Indian tradition) : What is the specific characteristic of poetic usage, its visesana ?... Indian writers, from the

41

It is with the analysis of specific features of poetic

language that these Alamkarikas are concerned; their interest

is in specifics as specifics, not as instances of some more

general phenomenon. Subsuming these particular formal

features of poetic language under some general label (such as

vakrokti ["oblique expression"]) contributes nothing useful to

the enterprise of defining and categorizing them. Thus, when

these Ālamkärikas do refer to more general principles, they

tend to do so only in passing, quickly returning to the

analysis of specifics.

Underlying this particularistic approach to poetic

analysis is a certain understanding of literary aesthetics --

one which differs markedly from that of Anandavardhana and

most of the later Alamkarikas and which has been poorly

articulated by modern scholars. This aesthetic is revealed in

the basic metaphor in terms of which the early Alamkārikas

beginning, conceived their problem as that of 'poetic differentia', the visesana, which both establishes the poetic genre as a proper subject matter and which, by normative application, distinguishes the finest examples of poetry." (A Glossary of Indian Figures of Speech, op. cit., p. 16 -- cf. also Indian Poetics, op. cit., pp. 223-4, 233). Gerow provides no textual backing for this claim, and I can see nothing in the works of any Alamkarikas (pre- or post- Anandavardhana) to justify it. The differentiation of poetic from non-poetic discourse is treated as unproblematic, certainly by the early Alamkärikas; to describe it as what the Ālamkarikas "from the beginning, conceived as their problem" seems bizarre. The task to which these authors apply themselves is not to develop criteria for determining what is poetry and what is not but, taking this distinction for granted, to determine what specific, isolable linguistic features add to the beauty of poetic texts, and what features detract from it.

42

describe the relation between the poem and those linguistic

features which render it beautiful: that of bodily

ornamentation. The words and meanings which make up a poem

are described as its "body" (sarira)9, while those phonetic

and semantic factors which, when introduced into poetic

language, render it more beautiful are called "ornaments"

(alamkāras) .10 Discussions of the "body" of poetry are, for

the most part, perfunctory;1l for all of these Ālamkārikas

attention is focussed primarily on those formal features which

ornament and beautify this "body". A poem, for them, is a set

of words and meanings, a text, into which have been introduced

certain phonetic and semantic patterns each of which adds some

element of beauty to this text; poetry is languge made

beautiful by the inclusion within it of a variety of

individually beautiful elements. The object of their poetic

analysis, therefore, is to isolate, define, classify, and

exemplify as many such elements as possible, thus providing

9Cf. Bhāmaha, Kāvyālamkāra 1.23; Dandin, Kavyadarsa 1.10; Vāmana, Kavyalamkarasutravrtti on 1.2.6 and 2.1.1.

10The treatment of alamkaras and gunas as separate classes of beautifying elements does not really disrupt this metaphor. The only one of the early Alamkarikas to draw a definite categorical distinction between the is Vāmana (Kāvyālamkārasūtra 3.1.1-3), and even he allows that all two

beautifying elements (both figures and qualities) may be covered by the general label "ornamentation" (alamkāra) (Ibid., 1.1.1-3). Dandin, who lays great emphasis on gunas as the basis for differentiating poetic styles, and has often on those grounds been seen as a forerunner of Vamana's, indicates unambiguously that gunas are Kāvyādarśa 2.1-3. a kind of alamkara -- cf.

11Cf. Bhamaha 1.16-30; Dandin 1.10-39; Vāmana 1.3.21-32.

43

something approaching a complete inventory of those concrete

linguistic devices by which poets make their poetry beautiful

and hence desirable.

Once it is understood that for these Ālamkārikas the

beauty of a whole text is a function of the individual beauty

of its component elements, their approach to literary analysis

makes perfect sense. It explains the relentless "formalism

and attention to minute details" which has so troubled modern

analysts of their works. If it is the addition to it of

beautiful phonetic and semantic elements which makes a

literary text beautiful, then it is on the analysis of these

individual elements that literary analysis must concentrate.

There is no need to dwell on the analysis of literary

compositions as wholes; only take care of the details, and the

whole will take care of itself.

What really separates this kind of aesthetic analysis

from that of Anandavardhana and those who come after him is

the total irrelevance of contextual considerations within it.

Anandavardhana, drawing (as we shall see) on a Mimamsa-derived

understanding of the nature of textual coherence, formulates

a model of literary aesthetics according to which the

individual elements of a poem are valuable only insofar as

they subserve a single, overriding purpose: ideally, the

communication of some particular rasa (aestheticized emotion --

cf. below, Chapter Four, pp. 140ff). Thus, for him, the value

of alamkäras and other formal elements of a poem is not

44

intrinsic; it is context dependent. Where a particular figure

would enhance the capacity of the whole text to convey its

intended rasa, it should be used. Where it would detract from

this capacity, it should be avoided. For the early

Alamkārikas, however, alamkāras and gunas are intrinsically

valuable. A properly constructed metaphor is beautiful in and

of itself. It will add to the beauty of a text whenever and

wherever it is used. Its context has no bearing whatsoever on

its aesthetic value. Thus for them the core of literary

analysis is the precise analysis of individual figures and

qualities, rather than of the higher order textual units in

which they are employed.

This particularistic, formalist aesthetic, with its

consequent de-emphasis of context, is common to all the pre-

Anandavardhana Ālamkārikas. In this respect, the tendency of

modern scholars to divide these authors into the alamkära and

rīti "schools" has obscured the basic unity of their

understanding of the nature of poetic beauty and of the

imperatives of aesthetic analysis. The "Riti School",

especially as exemplified in the work of Vamana, is generally

portrayed as a decisive "advance" over the "Alamkara School",

because Vamana speaks of riti ("style") as the "soul of

poetry" (thus foreshadowing Anandavardhana's use of the same

phrase to describe his dhvani), and because he regards certain

poetic features (gunas ["qualities"], the constituent elements

of riti ["style"]) as essential to good poetry, and others

45

(alamkāras) as inessential.12

Yet what is really striking about Vamana's categorical

distinction between gunas and alamkāras is that it has no real

effect on his analyses of elements of either category. In his

examination of both gunas and alamkāras Vamana follows exactly

the same procedure as his predecessors. His analysis of each

consists of the same three components: definition,

classification, and exemplification. The labeling of elements

of the first category as "essential" and those of the second

as "inessential" produces no noticeable alteration in the

treatment of either. Both are beautiful and hence desirable

in poetry, and both are so intrinsically. There is still no

hint of context as a factor governing the value of particular

features in particular settings. The "inessential" status of

alamkāras does not necessitate that their selection be in any

way guided by their appropriateness to particular gunas or

rītis, or to anything else. They are still treated as

elements aesthetically valuable in and of themselves.

Thus Vamana's emphasis on guna and riti does not really

entail any significant departure from the formalist aesthetic

of "The Alamkara School". Whatever their differences with one

another on matters of detail, all of the pre-Ānandavardhana

Alamkārikas are basically at one in their understanding of the

nature of literary aesthetics and in their approach to

12Cf. Vāmana, Kavyalamkarasutra, 3.1.1-3; also below, Chapter Four, pp. 144-146.

46

literary analysis. For all of them, poetic language is

beautiful because it incorporates a series of individually

beautiful phonetic and semantic elements and the primary

object of poetic analysis is to isolate, classify, and

exemplify as many such elements as possible.

This particularistic model of literary aesthetics leads

naturally to the view that where alamkāras and other

beautifying elements of poetic language are concerned, more is

better. If such elements are to be valued for their intrinsic

beauty, rather than for their appropriateness to particular

contexts, then one should incorporate as many such elements as

one can into one's poetry. This attitude can be seen in

Bhamaha's discussion of samsrsti, the combination of multiple

alamkaras in a single verse: "The best ornament [vibhūsā] is

samsrsti, because of its combination of many alamkāras; thus

it is said to be constructed like a string of gems."13 I£

each alamkära is desirable in and of itself, then the

combination of several of them will be preferable to any one

singly. The same idea can be seen in Dandin's and Vamana's

comparative evaluation of regional styles of poetry; for both,

the Vaidarbhi style is superior to all others because it is

characterized by a greater number of gunas.14 This attitude

is the logical outcome of these Ālamkarikas' model of literary

13Bhamaha, Kavyalamkāra 3.49.

14Cf. Dandin Kāvyadarsa 1.40ff and Vamana, Kāvyalamkarasutra 1.2.9-14.

47

aesthetics. If each guna or alamkāra has a certain intrinsic

beauty which it imparts to those compositions in which it is

employed, then the way to maximize the beauty of any

composition is to maximize the concentration of gunas and

alamkāras within it.

The Problem of Rasa

That feature of literature to which Anandavardhana would

later assign a preeminent role, rasa (aestheticized emotion),

receives comparatively scant attention from Bhamaha, Dandin

and Vamana. It is given somewhat greater prominence by

Udbhata and becomes a major topic in Rudrata's Kavyalamkāra.

Yet, for all of these authors, rasa poses something of a

theoretical problem. It represents a particular kind of

thematic content, and cannot easily be dealt with in terms of

the formalist aesthetic of these Alamkārikas. The anomalous

status of rasa becomes increasingly evident in their works,

culminating in that of Rudrata who effectively abandons the

effort to present an integrated poetic; Rudrata elaborates two

separate modes of literary analysis, one formalist and

alamkära-based and one based on rasa, and makes no attempt

whatsoever to relate the one to the other. As we shall see,

one of the great strengths of Anandavardhana's

reconceptualization of Alamkārasāstra is that it succeeds in

integrating a rasa-based approach to literary aesthetics with

the formal categories of the early Ālamkārikas.

The idea of rasa did not originate in the realm of

48

Alamkāraśāstra. It was first developed in the field of

dramaturgy, specifically in the Natyasastra (ascribed to

Bharata) .15 According to the Natyasastra, there are eight

basic emotions (sthayibhāvas) 16 which may be presented in

drama and, corresponding to them, eight rasas17 (literally,

"flavors"; aesthetic moods or aestheticized emotional

states) 18 which may be created by a performance. The concept

of rasa plays a central role in the dramatic theory developed

in the Natyasastra, and comes ultimately to play a pivotal

role in Alamkārasāstra as well.

15The work is encyclopaedic, and is presumably a compilation rather than the work of a single author. It is impossible to date it with any precision, but the text probably took on something like its present form in the mid- first millennium AD. The earliest known commentator on the Natyasastra is Udbhata (c. 800 AD -- although there are stray references in the works of Abhinavagupta and others to early writers on dramaturgy who may have commented on it: cf. Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 48ff. and De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. 1, pp. 31ff. The earliest extant commentary is the AbhinavabhāratI of Abhinavagupta (c. 1000 AD) .

16Desire (rati), humor (hāsa) , (krodha), daring (utsaha), fear (bhaya), disgust (jugupsa) , grief (śoka) , anger

and astonishment (vismaya) -- cf. Natyasastra 6.17, 7.8ff (ed. M. Ramakrishna Kavi, Gaekwad's Oriental Series 36 [Vol. I], 1956 [second ed.], pp. 267, 350ff.).

17Erotic (śrīgāra), comic (hāsya), pathetic (karuna) furious (raudra) , heroic (vira) , frightful (bhayanaka), disgusting (bibhatsa) , and wondrous (adbhuta) -- cf. Nātyasastra 6.15, 6.45ff. (ibid., pp. 266, 299ff.).

18The exact nature of rasa, as well as its locus (i.e., whether the term designates an emotional experience of the character portrayed, the actor, or the spectator), were topics hotly debated by later writers on dramaturgy; the most important such views are summed up by Abhinavagupta in his AbhinavabharatI (ibid., pp. 272-286). Also cf. below, Chapter Nine, pp. 455ff.

49

Bhamaha and Dandin are aware of the Natyasastra (or, at

least, of the discipline of dramaturgy) and refer to it in

passing, but neither seems to see it as especially relevant to

poetic analysis or devotes any significant attention to it.

Having mentioned drama (nātaka) as part of his list of

literary genres, Bhamaha says, "This is said to be [a work]

whose meaning is to be enacted [abhineyārtha]; a full analysis

[vistara] of this has been made by others. "19 Dandin refers

on one occasion to several of the elements of drama discussed

in the Natyasastra (sandhis ["plot junctures"] and so on); he

states that these "have been explained in another text" and

notes, without further elaboration, that they should all be

regarded as alamkäras.20 Thus, while both are aware of the

dramaturgical tradition and its potential bearing on literary

analysis, neither wishes to devote much attention to it; they

seem content to allow for a division of labor, referring

readers to the Natyasastra itself for a detailed discussion of

dramaturgical questions. Both Bhamaha and Dandin find a place

for rasa in their taxonomy of poetic figures, yet both seem to

have difficulty explaining rasa in formalist terms, and their

rasa-based alamkaras occupy an anomalous position in their

systems .

Most of the meaning-based alamkaras dealt with by Bhamaha

and the other early Ālamkarikas consist of the use of

19Kāvyālamkāra 1.24.

20Kavyadarsa 2.364.

50

particular propositional structures: e.g. upama ("simile" -- in

which one entity is compared with another on the basis of

shared properties), rūpaka ("metaphorical identification" -- in

which one entity is identified with another on the basis of

shared properties), or samāsokti ("condensed expression" -- in

which the attributes ascribed to one entity bring to mind a

second which is not explicitly mentioned) .21 These

propositional structures impose no restriction on content; in

principle, anything at all may be made the subject of a

comparison or a metaphorical identification. However, in the

beginning of the third chapter of his Kavyalamkara, Bhamaha

deals with a small group of figures which do not conform to

this pattern: figures which consist not in the relation of

unspecified entities in a particular propositional structure,

but in the selection of a particular kind of subject matter --

which specify not the manner, but the content, of expression.

These figures are preyas ("affectionate"), rasavat

("possessing rasa"), urjasvin ("forceful" or "haughty"), and

samāhita ("completed" or "brought together") .22 The

problematic status of these figures can be seen in Bhamaha's

atypical (and rather cryptic) treatment of them. Departing

from his usual procedure, Bhamaha provides no definition at

all for three of these figures (preyas, ürjasvin, and

21Cf. Bhāmaha, Kavyālamkāra, 2.30, 2.21, 2.79.

22Ibid., 3.5, 3.6, 3.7, 3.10. All four alamkaras are explained in terms of rasa and its permutations by Udbhata and by the later Alamkara tradition -- cf. below, pp. 52-58.

51

samahita); in each case, we are given only the name of the

alamkāra and a brief example.23 For the fourth figure,

rasavat, the definition he provides is purely tautologous

("rasavat is that in which the rasas, śrīgara etc., are

clearly shown"). Bhamaha's treatment of all these figures is

extremely terse and opaque, but it is clear that each involves

a particular kind of emotional or dramatic content (e.g. the

presentation of affection, of haughtiness, or of one of

Bharata's eight rasas) .

In Dandin's treatment of the same four alamkāras, their

anomalous, content-based character is likewise apparent.

Dandin treats three of these figures (preyas, rasavat, and

urjasvin) as a group, defining them in a single verse. The

definitions he provides for these figures are (like Bhamaha's

definition of rasavat) purely tautologous: "Preyas

['affectionate' ] is a very affectionate statement; rasavat

23This creates interpretive problems for later Alamkārikas who base their treatment of these figures on that of Bhamaha. In at least one case, that of samahita, it is not at all clear what Bhamaha's understanding of the alamkara is. Bhamaha's example of the figure is as follows: "Narada appeared before the ksatriya-women going to be united with Rama" (in the absence of context, the point of the example is not entirely clear, but it would appear that Narada is to take or direct the women to Rama's location). Dandin and Udbhata have very different definitions of samähita, but both seem designed to fit this example. Dandin (2.296) takes samahita to mean "serendipity" -- the fortuitous "coming together" of several factors so as to produce a desired result; Udbhata (4.7) understands samahita as the "completion", i.e. the subsidence, of some rasa or rasa-like emotional state. Bhamaha's example can be seen as meeting both definitions: the meeting of the ksatriya women with Narada is fortuitous for them, and puts an end to their anxiety to find Räma.

52

['possessing rasa' ] is adorned with rasa; urjasvin ['haughty' ]

is that in which there is strong pride -- and these three are

joined with intensity. "24 All three alamkäras consist in the

depiction of a particular emotional content. As Dandin

explains it, the figure samahita is not specifically concerned

with the emotional content of a verse, but is nevertheless

content-based: "For a person undertaking some task, the

attainment of the means [to achieve] that [task], by the power

of fate -- that is what they [the Alamkārikas] call samāhita

['coming together']."25 This alamkära, then, consists in the

depiction of a particular kind of narrative event; the

fortuitous achievement, by some character, of the means to a

desired end.

It is Udbhata, in his Kāvyalamkārasarasamqraha, 26 who

first explicitly explains all four of these alamkāras in

connection with the dramaturgical concept of rasa. The end of

the eighth and the beginning of the ninth century saw the

beginning of a renaissance in Kashmir, in both Alamkārasāstra

24preyah priyatarākhyānam rasavad rasapeśalam/ ūrjasvi rūdhāhamkāram yuktotkarsam ca tat trayam// Dandin, Kavyadarsa, 2.273 (unless otherwise noted, all translations are my own).

25Kāvyādarsa 2.296.

26Udbhata's only other known work on Alamkārasāstra, his commentary on Bhamaha's Kavyalamkara, survives only in a single, extremely fragmentary, manuscript (cf. Raniero Gnoli ed., Udbhata's Commentary on the Kavyalamkara of Bhamaha, Rome, Instituto Italiano per il Medio ed Estremo Oriente, 1962). That portion of the commentary which would have dealt with this group of alamkaras unfortunately, lost. (on Bhamaha 3.5-10) is,

53

and Natyasastra, and Udbhata played an important role in both

areas; he was, as far as is known, the first person to write

on both Alamkārasāstra and Nātyasāstra. 27 In his work, and

in those of the later Alamkarikas of Kashmir, we see an

increasing erosion of the distinction between poetic and

dramaturgical theory; questions originally raised in the realm

of dramaturgy, particularly the question of rasa, come to play

an increasingly prominent role in Alamkārasāstra during this

period.

Udbhata's analysis of preyas (which he calls preyasvat,

"possessing affection"), rasavat, ūrjasvin, and samāhita

represents the most sophisticated attempt to "formalize" these

apparently content-based (and therefore anomalous) figures.

As he explains them, each of these figures entails not the

depiction of a particular emotional content, but a particular

mode or aspect in which any emotional state may be presented.

He defines preyasvat as follows: "The wise call that poem

27Udbhata was a major figure (sabhäpati -- leader of the royal assembly of scholars) in the court of JayapIda of Kashmir (r. c. 776-807 AD) -- cf. Rajataranqini 4.495 (on Jayapida's date, see Stein's translation of Rajatarangini, Introduction, pp. 94-96). Udbhata's dramaturgical work, a commentary on Bharata's Natyasastra, is lost, but is known from references in Abhinavagupta's commentary on the same work (cf. Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., p. 49). He appears to have written on Carvaka (Materialism) as well; he is presumably the same Udbhata mentioned by Cakradhara (in his commentary [Granthibhangal on Jayantabhatta's NyayamañjarT) and in Devasūri's Syadvadaratnākara commentary Brhaspati's Nyayamanjarī ed. Gaurinath Sastri, Sivakumarasāstrigranthamalā on (lost) as the author of a Lokāyatasūtra -- cf.

5, Vol. 1, p. 100, Vol. 2, pp. 195, 257, and 262; also, NyamanjarIgranthibhanqa (ed. Nagin J. Shah, L.D. Oriental Series 35, Ahmedabad, 1972), Introduction, pp. 5-7.

54

preyasvat which is composed with [aesthetic factors] such as

anubhavas, 28 which are indicative of the emotions [bhavas],

attraction [rati] etc. 29 The dramaturgical tradition

distinguishes between bhavas, emotional states, and rasas, the

aesthetic "moods" developed from them in a dramatic

performance, and Udbhata explains the relation between rasavat

and preyasvat in terms of this distinction.

In the figure rasavat, one of the nine30 possible

aesthetic moods (rasas) is fully developed by means of the

appropriate factors (vibhavas and so on) ;31 in the figure

preyasvat, an emotion (any emotion) is depicted, but not

developed into a full-fledged rasa. Udbhata does not explain

28anubhavas are those visible symptoms (crying, laughter, etc.) which are indicative of particular emotional states. The other major factors recognized by the dramaturgical tradition as involved in the portrayal of emotional states are vibhavas ("stimulants", factors which are understood to create an emotional response in a character -- e.g. a beloved person [in the case of love] or a dangerous animal [in the case of fear] ) and vyabhicaribhavas ("variable emotions", those transient emotional states associated with a more persistent underlying emotion -- e.g. [in the case of love] eagerness, anxiety, and so on).

29ratyādikānām bhāvanam anubhavādisūcanaih/ yat kavyam badhyate sadbhis tat preyasvad udahrtam// Udbhata, Kåvyalamkarasarasamqraha, 4.2 (Bombay Sanskrit and Prakrit Series No. LXXIX, 'ed. N.D. Banhatti, Poona, Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, 1982 [reprint], p. 50).

30To the eight rasas listed by Bharata (above, p. 44), Udbhata adds a ninth, santa ("quiescence") . This ninth rasa is accepted by most of the later Ālamkārikas.

31Ibid., p. 52.

55

the basis for differentiation,32 but his examples for these

alamkäras make the nature of the distinction clear, at least

as applied to srīgara- ("erotic") rasa and its underlying

emotional state, rati ("attraction"). Udbhata's example of

rasavat33 depicts Siva's love for Parvati -- a clear case of

srīgāra-rasa; his example of preyasvat34 describes Pārvatī

affectionately playing with a young deer, treating it as if it

were her own child. The latter example depicts attraction,

but attraction which, unlike that in the example of rasavat,

is not directed toward an appropriate sexual partner, and thus

cannot manifest itself as full-fledged srīgāra. 35 Thus the

bhava rati is conveyed without developing into a rasa. As

Udbhata's commentators explain, his definition of the figure

32His commentator Pratiharenduraja explains that only when there is "full development" or "ripening" (pariposa) of rati and other bhavas do they become rasas -- ibid., p. 52.

33Ibid., p. 53.

34 Ibid., p. 52.

35This explanation of the relationship between sexual and non-sexual love is accepted by Mammata and, following him, most of the later Alamkärikas. According to Mammata, when love is directed toward such objects as a god, a king, a parent, or a child, the bhava rati will be suggested; only when love is directed toward a "beloved" (kanta) -- i.e. an appropriate sexual partner -- is the rasa śrngära suggested (cf. Kavyaprakasa, Mysore: Oriental Research Institute Series 120, Vol. I, pp. 284-5). A few Ālamkārikas, most notably Rudrata and Bhoja, take a different approach, making preyas ("affection") a full-fledged rasa in its own right, rather than simply of Kāvyālamkāra a permutation Rudrata, 15.17-19 srngara (cf.

Śrīgāraprakāsa [Madras, Punarvasu, 12.3, and V. Raghavan, Bhoja's 1978 (third ed.) ], pp. 402ff; also V. Raghavan, The Number of Rasa-s [Madras, Adyar Library and Research Centre, 1975 (third ed.) ], pp. 119ff.).

56

preyasvat demands that we understand the word preyas

("affection") in the figure's name as an indicator

(upalaksana) of emotional states in general.36 Any bhava

which, for whatever reason, fails to develop into a rasa, will

fall within the scope of this figure.

Similarly, Udbhata's treatment of ūrjasvin makes this

figure consist not of the introduction of a specific emotional

content, but of a particular mode in which any emotion at all

may be presented. He defines the figure as follows: "The

composition of rasas or bhavas which are manifested

inappropriately due to some cause such as desire or anger is

called ūrjasvin. "37 His example of the figure describes the

love-struck Siva's momentary impulse to seize Pārvatī by

force. Ūrjasvin, then, entails the presentation, not of any

particular emotional state (such as pride), but rather of any

kind of emotional excess; any rasa or bhäva, if manifested in

defiance of accepted norms and limits, will constitute a case

of ūrjasvin.

Udbhata explains samahita too as an aspect in which any

36Cf. Pratiharendurāja's Laghuvrtti (ibid., pp. 51-2) and Udbhatalamkaravivrti (printed in Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha, ed. K.S. Ramaswami Sastri, Gaekwad's Oriental Series 55, Baroda, 1931), p. 32. The latter commentary is anonymous but, as Ramaswami Sastri demonstrates (ibid., intro., pp. 34-38), it is almost certainly the work of Ruyyaka's father Tilaka (occasionally referred to in J Ruyyaka's Alamkarasarvasva) . Jayaratha's commentary on

37Anaucityapravrttānām kāmakrodhādikāranāt/ bhavanām ca rasanam ca bandha urjasvi kathyate// Udbhata, Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha 4.5 (op. cit., p. 54).

57

emotional state may be presented: "Samahita is the composition

of the cessation of the operation of rasa, bhava, or the

semblance of these [tadabhasa], in a form devoid of the

anubhavas of any other [rasa, bhava, or abhasa] . "38 The

portrayal of the subsidence of an emotional state of any sort,

if it is not accompanied by the depiction of conditions which

indicate the arising of some new emotional state, will fall

within the scope of this alamkāra. Udbhata's example

describes Siva's casting off of the disguise he had taken on

while observing ParvatI; as the commentator Pratiharenduraja

explains, this verse shows the subsidence of "concealment"

(avahittha), one of the variable emotional states (vyabhicāri-

bhavas) associated wich srīgara-rasa.39

So, Udbhata explains all four of these alamkāras in terms

of rasa and other closely related emotional phenomena. Yet he

clearly tries to avoid tying any of these figures to a

specific emotional content -- preyasvat consists not

specifically in the depiction of "affection" (preyas), but in

the depiction of any bhäva at all in such a way that it does

not give rise to rasa; likewise ūrjasvin and samāhita consist

38rasabhāvatadābhāsavrtteh prasamabandhanam/ anyānubhāvanihsūnyarūpam yat tat samāhitam// Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha 4.7 (ibid., p. 56) . The "semblances" or abhasas of rasas or bhavas are those rasas or bhavas which are inappropriately manifested, as in the alamkāra ūrjasvin. The categories of rasa- and bhava-abhasa play an important role in the rasa theory of the later Alamkärikas; both the term and the concept seem to have been coined by Udbhata in his explanation of urjasvin.

39Laghuvrtti, ibid., p. 56.

58

in the depiction of the inappropriate manifestation and the

cessation (respectively) of any emotional state at all.

However, even as they are explained by Udbhata, these

alamkāras are still content based; Udbhata greatly expands the

scope of these alamkaras, but each still consists of a

statement about something in particular (e.g. an

inappropriately manifested emotion, the cessation of an

emotion), rather than a particular kind of statement (e.g. a

simile) which may be used to describe anything at all.

The categories of emotional experience Udbhata elaborates

in connection with these alamkāras (rasa, bhava, rasabhasa and

bhāvābhasa, rasa-, bhava-, and abhasa-prasama) are adopted by

Ānandavardhana and subsequent Alamkārikas,40 but Vamana and

Rudrata, Udbhata's successors among the pre-Anandavardhana

Ālamkārikas, do not accept his treatment of these alamkāras --

both abandon altogether the attempt to account for rasa and

related emotional phenomena within the framework of the

alamkāras.

Vamana (c. 800 AD) was, like Udbhata, active at the court

40Cf. Dhvanyaloka 2.3 (Kashi ed., pp. 175ff). Abhinavagupta expands the list of categories to include the "arising" (udaya) , the "mixing" (sandhi), and the "juxtaposition" (sabalata) of emotional states; some later alamkara-theorists introduce new figures corresponding to these additional categories (cf. Ruyyaka, Alamkarasarvasva, Kāvyamāla 35, pp. 190ff; Visvanātha, Sahityadarpana, ed. Sālagrāmasāstrī, Delhi, Motilal Banarsidass, 1982 [reprint], pp. 367-368; Appayadīksita, Kuvalayananda (Vidyabhavana Samskrta Granthamala 24, pp. 272-274) . 105-107

59

of Jayapida of Kashmir,41 so the two must have been at least

roughly contemporary. Unlike Udbhata, Vamana has very little

to say regarding rasa. In his taxonomy of the poetic figures,

Vamana simply omits rasavat, preyasvat, ūrjasvin, and

samahita. Rather than treating rasa and other varieties of

emotional content as figures of speech, Vamana incorporates

them in his scheme of semantic qualities (artha-gunas) .

Vamana defines the semantic quality of kanti ("splendour") as

"possession of resplendent rasas" (diptarasatvam) 42 He has

nothing more to say regarding rasa, and nothing at all to say

regarding those rasa-related phenomena (bhāva, rasābhāsa,

etc.) described by Udbhata ..

While Vamana shows little interest in the role of rasa in

poetry, his work serves in one important respect to make the

status of rasa-theory in Alamkārasastra a more pressing

question -- Vamana essentially obliterates the categorical

distinction between drama and poetry. We have seen that

Bhamaha and Dandin, while they acknowledge in passing the

literary status of drama, allow for a division of labor

between poetic and dramatic theory, and recognize the analysis

of drama as the proper domain of Natyasastra, rather than

Alamkarasastra. While Udbhata, in his commentary on Bhamaha's

Kāvyalamkāra, quotes many example verses from existing poetic

41Cf. RajataranqinI 4.497.

42Kavyālamkārasutra 3.2.15 (Kashi Sanskrit Series 209, Varanasi, Chaukhambha Sanskrit Sansthan, 1989 [fourth ed.]), p. 116.

60

works, he cites no verses from drama. Vamana, by contrast,

draws freely from plays43 as well as non-dramatic poetry to

find examples for the poetic features he explores. For

Vamana, drama is not merely one type of poetry among others;

it is, in fact, the very best kind of poetry.44 By breaking

down the genre distinction between dramatic and non-dramatic

poetry, Vamana helps to erode the basis for the separation

between the two modes of critical analysis devised to explain

them; if there is no fundamental distinction between dramatic

and non-dramatic poetry, there is no reason why the role of

rasa should be any less significant in the latter than in the

former. Vamana's practice of freely mixing examples drawn

from dramatic and non-dramatic poetry is adopted by

Anandavardhana and most of the later Alamkarikas; for these

authors, rasa-based analysis is no less relevant to non-

dramatic poetry than to drama, and alamkara- and guna-based

analysis is no less relevant to drama than to non-dramatic

poetry.

The increasing prominence of rasa in the analysis of non-

dramatic poetry can be seen clearly in the work of Vamana's

nearest successor, Rudrata (c. 825 AD) .45 Rudrata is the

43E.g. Kālidāsa's Abhijñānasākuntala (1.2.11, 3.2.6, 4.2.14) and Vikramorvaśīyam (3.1.10, 4.3.29), Bhavabhūti's Mahavīracarita (1.2.12) and Uttararamacarita (4.3.6).

44Cf. Kāvyālamkārasūtra 1.3.30.

45Rudrata gives no information on the time and place in which he was writing, but he is generally thought to have been a Kashmiri, largely because of his name (the suffix -ta being

61

first of the Ālamkarikas to make rasa a primary category of

analysis (rather than incorporating it within the framework of

alamkaras or gunas). Like Vamana, he omits the alamkāras

rasavat, preyasvat, urjasvin and samahita from his discussion

of the figures. The first eleven chapters of Rudrata's

Kavyalamkara deal with alamkaras, poetic flaws (dosas) and

other formal aspects of poetry, very much in the manner of

earlier works on poetics. Having concluded his discussion of

these matters, he introduces rasa as an altogether separate

topic. The remaining portion of his work (apart from a brief

concluding discussion of genre-typology) deals with the role

of rasa in poetry, along with related questions of plot and

characterization, largely (thought not exclusively) modelled

on the treatment of the same topics in the Nātyasastra.

Rudrata makes no attempt of any kind to connect his

analysis of rasa and related factors with his earlier

discussion of alamkäras and other formal poetic features. The

disjunction between these two sections of Rudrata's

Kāvyālamkāra is absolute; so much so that if its first eleven

most common in Kashmiri names) -- cf. Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., p. 153, De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. I, p. 85, and Gerow, Indian Poetics, op. cit., p. 239). In any case, he Anandavardhana. seems to have been known to In the vrtti on Dhvanyaloka 2.21 (Kashi ed., p. 239), Anandavardhana refers in passing to vakrokti as an alamkāra involving the use of punning expression; Rudrata was the only one of the early Alamkarikas to define the figure vakrokti in this way (cf. Rudrata, Kavyalamkāra 2.14-17) . Thus it would appear that Anandavardhana was familiar with Rudrata's treatment of this figure (contra De -- cf. History of Sanskrit Poetics, Vol. I, p. 85).

62

chapters were severed from its last five, there would be

nothing to indicate that either segment was part of a larger

work. What Rudrata presents, then, are two entirely separate

schemata in terms of which poetry may be analyzed; one dealing

with alamkaras and other formal aspects of poetry and modelled

on the work of Bhamaha and the other early Ālamkarikas, and

one dealing with rasa and related elements of narrative

content and drawing largely on the dramaturgical theory

embodied in Bharata's Natyasastra. Faced with the problem of

integrating content-based rasa-analysis with formal alamkāra-

and guna- analysis, Rudrata simply abandons any effort at such

integration. In this way he avoids the difficulties faced by

the early Alamkärikas in their attempts to explain rasa in

terms of gunas and alamkaras, but only at the expense of

introducing a certain incoherence; he delineates two distinct

modes of poetic analysis, and gives absolutely no indication

as to how, if at all, these two can be related to one another.

Conclusion

Even in the earliest works of Alamkārasastra, the status

of rasa is already problematic; this can be seen in Bhamaha's

anomalous treatment of rasavat and the other emotional-

content-based alamkāras. The problems associated with the

attempt to treat rasa in formalist terms become more

pronounced in the works of the early ninth-century Kashmiri

Ālamkārikas, as the division between poetic and dramaturgical

theory begins to erode and the question of rasa's role in non-

63

dramatic poetry becomes more pressing. This trend reaches its

height in the work of Rudrata, who altogether abandons the

attempt to formulate an integrated approach to poetics,

leaving formalist and rasa-based analysis as two separate and

unrelated analytic modes.

It is against this background that Anandavardhana's

revolutionary reconceptualization of Alamkārasāstra must be

viewed. The most obvious strength of Anandavardhana's

approach to literary theory in comparison with that of his

predecessors is that it successfully integrates formalist and

rasa-based analysis in a single, coherent framework. It does

this by abandoning the particularistic aesthetic which had

informed the work of the early Ālamkārikas. For

Ānandavardhana, poetry is not simply a text made beautiful by

the incorporation within it of a variety of individually

beautiful elements. The individual phonetic and semantic

components which make up a poem are to be valued not for their

intrinsic beauty, but for their ability to contribute to the

overall purpose of the text of which they form a part; this

overall purpose, at least ideally, will be the effective

communication of some particular rasa. Thus, in

Anandavardhana's work, rasa is not simply one more poetic

element among others; the need to convey rasa becomes the

central organizing principle which guides (or ought to guide)

poets in their selection and deployment of alamkāras and other

formal poetic elements, and provides a clear criterion in

64

terms of which the aesthetic usefulness of the specific

features of any poetic work may be judged.

This re-envisioning of the poem as a functionally unified

text with the communication of rasa as its overriding goal

does not merely provide a useful means of integrating rasa-

based poetic analysis with the analysis of alamkāras and gunas

which had so far been the primary focus Of interest in

Alamkāraśāstra. It demands an entirely new understanding of

the nature of poetic texts and of the imperatives facing

practitioners of Alamkārasastra. If poems are to be seen not

as texts made beautiful by the incorporation within them of

individually beautiful phonetic and semantic features, but as

functionally unified wholes in which all elements operate

together to achieve single, coherent aesthetic effect, then

poetic analysis cannot limit itself to the study of

particular, isolable, linguistic elements employed in poetic

texts, but must concern itself with the functional relations

between these individual poetic components, and the factors

which govern their ability to further (or detract from) the

overall aesthetic objectives of the works in which they are

employed.

As has already been noted, Anandavardhana's view of

unifunctionality as the basis of textual coherence, while new

to Alamkāraśāstra, is not without precedent in the world of

Sanskrit linguistic theory. The practitioners of Mīmāmsa (a

school of textual exegesis concerned chiefly with the

65

interpretation of the Vedas) had long before developed a

system of textual interpretation which took unity of function

as the principle which integrates the individual elements of

any meaningful text into a coherent whole. As we shall see,

Anandavardhana brings into the realm of literary analysis the

Mīmamsakas' general understanding of textual coherence, along

with many of the specific interpretive techniques and concepts

they derive from it. Before we turn to examine

Ãnandavardhana's work and its impact on the subsequent

development of Alamkārasāstra in Kashmir, we must briefly

explore the interpretive theory and method of the MImamsakas.

CHAPTER THREE MIMAMSA AND THE TELEOLOGY OF LANGUAGE

The most detailed and sophisticated theory of non-poetic

language interpretation in pre-modern South Asia is that

devised by the MImamsakas in their exegesis of Vedic texts.

Many of the rival schools of Sanskrit philosophical and

scientific thought formulated their own theories of language.

But the Mimamsakas, because their raison d'etre was to provide

a thorough exegesis of a substantial body of existing texts,

had to do more than provide an account of the general

principles by which language operates; they were forced to

confront a vast array of specific interpretive problems, and

to devise a system of hermeneutical procedures complex and

precise enough to resolve all such problems. In consequence,

the semantic and interpretive theory they created is, in its

sophistication and subtlety, unequalled in South Asian

intellectual history. While the primary focus of attention in

Mīmamsa is on Vedic texts, the hermeneutical principles

developed in the course of analyzing these texts are

formulated so as to be applicable to language in general, and

are recognized as such by scholars in other fields. For this

reason, Mīmamsa is frequently designated as vākya-sastra ("the

science of sentences").

As we shall see, Anandavardhana's radical reconfiguration

of literary theory and of the process of poetic analysis

draws, in many crucial respects, on the hermeneutical theory

and practice of the Mīmamsakas. We shall therefore, before

66

67

embarking on a detailed analysis of Anandavardhana's work,

examine briefly the Mimamsa approach to textual analysis.

The oldest surviving Mimamsa text is the Mimamsasutra of

Jaimini (c. 200 BC?) . The work is a collection of brief,

often cryptic, aphorisms arranged in twelve adhyayas, each

dealing with a different issue in the interpretation of ritual

texts, and each further subdivided into four or eight pādas.

The Sabarabhasya of Sabara (c. 400 AD) is an extensive

commentary on Jaimini's aphorisms, and serves as the basis for

all later work in the field of MImamsa. The seventh century

produced two important commentators on Sabara's work:

Kumarilabhatta and Prabhakara, founders of the two major

schools of Mīmāmsā (called Bhatta and Prābhakara,

respectively) .1 Kumārilabhatta was author of the

Ślokavarttika (on the first pada of the first adhyaya), the

Tantravarttika (on the remaining pādas of the first adhyāya

along with the second and third adhyayas), the Tuptika (on

adhyayas four through twelve), and the Brhattika.2 Prabhākara

1The two authors are at least roughly contemporary; Prabhäkara is traditionally believed to have been a pupil of Kumārila, and was probably a junior contemporary of his, although some modern scholars (most notably Ganganath Jha) have argued, on doctrinal and stylistic grounds, that Prabhakara was the earlier of the two (cf. Jha, The Prabhakara School of Purva Mimamsa, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1978 [reprint], pp. 11-17, and Purva-Mimamsa in its Sources, Varanasi, Benaras Hindu University, 1964 [second ed.], pp. 13- 17).

2The last work is not extant, but is frequently cited by later authors both within and outside the field of Mimamsa (for a survey of citations from this work in later Buddhist philosophical literature, cf. Erich Frauwallner, "Kumarila's

68

wrote two complete commentaries on Sabara's Bhasya, called the

Nibandhana and the Vivarana, but more popularly known as the

BrhatI (the "great" commentary) and the Laghvi (the "light"

commentary).3 Nearly all later Mimämsakas identify themselves

as followers of one or the other of these two. While there

are important differences between these two schools of MImamsa

on certain matters of epistemological and cognitive theory,

they are largely in agreement on questions of textual

interpretation.

Mīmamsa, perhaps because it deals so intimately and

exhaustively with the arcane details of Vedic ritual, has

received comparatively little attention from modern scholars

of Indian philosophy, and what little attention it has

received has focussed almost exclusively on matters dealt with

in the first pada of the first adhyaya of the Mimamsasutra

(the so-called tarka- ["reasoning"] päda), in which the

epistemological and ontological views which form the

groundwork of the system are explained and defended. The

standard practice in general surveys of Mimamsa' (and in the

BrhattIka," Wiener Zeischrift für die Kunde des Süd- und Ost- asiens 6 (1962) , pp. 78-90).

3The BrhatI is only partly extant (up to the first pāda of the sixth adhyaya), and the Laghvi is altogether lost

AD) (although the last six adhyayas of Salikanathamisra's (c. 800 commentary on it [called Dīpaśikhāl, containing substantial quotations from the Prabhakara's text, survives).

4E.g. A.B. Keith, The Karma-Mimamsa, Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal, 1978 Introduction [second ed.] ; Pashupatinath Shastri, to the Purva MImamsa, Chaukhambha Oriental Research Studies 19, Varanasi, 1980 [second ed.]; G.P. Bhatt,

69

summaries of Mīmāmsa views included in most histories of

Indian Philosophy) has been to draw a sharp distinction

between "philosophical topics" (i.e. topics dealt with in the

tarka-pada) and "Mimamsa topics proper" (i.e. the interpretive

questions dealt with in the remaining fifty-nine pädas of the

Mimamsāsūtra) , and to treat the latter topics as of minor

importance or to ignore them altogether. Even those authors

(Jha, Keith) who include a cursory survey of these "MImamsa

topics proper" usually provide only a summary of the

conclusions reached by the Mimamsakas on various points of

Vedic interpretation, rather than a serious examination of the

interpretive principles and methods by which they arrive at

these conclusions.5

This narrow focus on the tarka-pāda is perhaps

understandable; commentaries on this section of the

MImamsasutra tend to engage and counter the views of rival

schools of thought more explicitly than those dealing with the

main body of Jaimini's rules. It is nonetheless unfortunate;

Epistemology of the Bhatta School of PūrvamImamsa, Chowkhamba Sanskrit Studies XVII, Varanasi, 1962; Ganganath Jha, The Prabhakara School of Purva Mimamsa, op. cit. and Pūrva-MImamsa in its Sources, op. cit.

5A rare exception is G.V. Devasthali's Mimamsa: The Ancient Indian Science of Sentence Interpretation (Delhi: Sri Satguru Publications, 1991 [second Devasthali's study rightly treats Mimamsa hermeneutics as a revised ed. ] ) .

general theory of textual interpretation, rather than merely a collection of ad hoc observations on Vedic ritual procedure, and assembles and correlates discussions of various interpretive concepts found throughout the twelve adhyayas of the Mīmāmsa system.

70

the epistemological and ontological postulates defended in the

tarka-pada, while certainly not unimportant, are little more

than a necessary prolegomenon to the real business of Mimamsa.

The most distinctive and ultimately the most influential

contribution of the Mimamsakas to Sanskrit philosophical and

linguistic thought, their theory of textual interpretation,

has been largely overlooked by modern scholars. A thorough

investigation of the principles and methods of text

interpretation devised by the Mimamsakas would be the work not

of one book but of many -- obviously well beyond the scope of

the present study. The most that can be attempted here is a

general examination of some of the interpretive problems posed

by the Mimamsakas and the key concepts and techniques they

devise for dealing with them, focussing particularly on those

elements of Mimamsa interpretive theory which come to play a

significant role in the development of Kashmiri

Alamkāraśāstra.

The Movement from Universal to Particular

One of the key tenets of Mimamsakas is that the Vedas are

eternal and authorless. It is on the basis of their

authorless character that the absolute inerrancy of the Vedas

is asserted. . The accuracy of texts composed by authors is

limited by the knowledge and trustworthiness of those authors.

By contrast, statements made in the Vedas are not made by

anyone (who might potentially be mistaken or deceitful) -- they

simply are. Thus there is nothing which would allow us to

71

call into question the truthfulness of these statements.6 If

the Vedic texts are eternal (and hence authorless), then the

words of which they are composed, and the meanings conveyed by

these words, must likewise be eternal. It is for this reason

that the Mimamsakas must argue that the meaning conveyed by

any word is a universal (akrti, jati), rather than a

particular (vyakti).7

The actual referent of a word such as "cow" must be not

any particular cow or group of cows, but rather the universal

class-property "cow-ness". If, in learning the proper use of

the word "cow", we came to associate it with one or more

individual cows known to us, we could not use or understand

the word to refer to other, previously unknown, cows. If the

word were taken to be associated with all particular cows

(past, present and future), no one could ever understand its

meaning (since no one could ever apprehend all cows for the

purpose of learning this association). The word must, then,

refer to whatever it is that all cows, and only cows, have in

common -- by definition, the universal class-property "cow-

6The epistemological presuppositions of this argument are most clearly articulated and ably defended by Kumārila in his development of the theory of svatahpramanya, the intrinsic validity of all cognitions (cf. Ślokavārttika, Codanāsūtra 33ff. [Prācyabhāratī ed., pp. 41ff.]) . The best English exposition of the theory is found in Bhatt, Epistemology of the Bhatta School of Purva MImamsa, op. cit., pp. 73-111.

7Cf. Ślokavārttika, Ākrtivāda 1 (op. cit., p. 385).

72

ness".8 The meanings conveyed by words can only be universal

class-properties, which are unitary and eternal, rather than

particulars, which are multiple and ephemeral.

But this creates an interpretive problem. Sentences

(Vedic or otherwise) describe or enjoin particular entities or

actions, rather than universal class-properties. When a

person says, "The cow is white," it is a particular cow

(rather than the universal "cow-ness") to which the quality of

whiteness is ascribed; when one person orders another to

"Bring the cow!", it is a particular act of bringing and a

particular cow that are intended; it would be impossible for

anyone to bring the universal "cow-ness". So, while words can

denote only universals, sentences, at least typically, refer

to particulars.9 How can this be so?

The particularity of sentence meaning can be explained as

follows. Sentence meaning is not directly conveyed by the

words which make up a sentence. As Sabara explains, "Words,

having denoted their respective word-meanings, cease

functioning; then the word-meanings, once they have been

understood, cause one to understand the sentence meaning. "10

Words can convey only those universal meanings with which they

ªCf. Śābarabhāsya on Mimamsasutra 1.3.30-35 with Tantravarttika (Anandasrama Sanskrit Series 97, 1970 [second ed.], Vol. II, pp. 229ff.) and BrhatI (Madras University Sanskrit Series 24, 1962, pp. 146ff.) .

9Sābarabhāsya on 1.1.24 (Ānandāśrama Sanskrit Series 97 [second ed.], Vol. I, p. 111-112).

10Tbid., p. 116.

73

are eternally linked; they cannot function collectively to

convey a connected sentence meaning. It is the individual

word-meanings which cause us, by a further mental operation,

to understand the meaning of the sentence as a whole.

Taken separately, individual words convey no useful

information; they can only produce mental impressions of

eternal and ubiquitous class-properties. However, these

universal word-meanings, construed with one another, can, by

a process of mutual specification, cause one to understand

some particular entity in which these universals are

instantiated. For example: having heard the words "cow"

(gauh) and "white" (suklah) juxtaposed with one another, we

understand that the speaker is referring to a particular

entity possessing both "cow-ness" and "whiteness", i.e. a

white cow. Similarly, having heard the words "bring!" (anaya)

and and understood their individual meanings, we

understand that the speaker is issuing a command for a

particular act of bringing, having a particular cow as its

object. Thus, while individual words can have only universals

as their meanings, these word-meanings can, in conjunction

with one another, designate particular entities and actions.

To quote Sabara again, "A word designates a universal; a

sentence designates a particular. The sentence-meaning is the

fixing of word-meanings, which function generally, in some

particular ... Word-meaning is apprehended directly, but

74

sentence-meaning is inferential [anumanika] . "ll It is our

mental reflection on and association of the individual word

meanings, rather than the words themselves, which create an

awareness of the (particular) sentence meaning.

This mental progression from universal to particular

meanings through mutual specification is basic to linguistic

comprehension as the Mimamsakas understand it. It is not only

basic to the process of sentence comprehension, but recurs at

other levels of language as well -- both within the words that

make up sentences and between multiple sentences within a

text. While morphologically simple words such as "cow" can

have only universals as their meanings, it is argued that

morphologically complex words (yaugika-sabdas -- that is, words

whose meanings can be derived etymologically from the meanings

of their parts) can, like sentences, refer to particulars.12

For example: the word goman ("cow-possessor") is composed of

two meaningful parts, the word go ("cow") and the possessive

suffix -man. The first can directly convey only the universal

"cow-ness", and the second only "possessor-ness", but because

these two component meanings delimit one another (just as the

individual word-meanings which make up a sentence do), the

word can refer to a particular possessor of particular cows.

As we shall see (below, pp. 106ff), the individual meanings of

the sentences which make up a particular Vedic text delimit

11Sabarabhāsya on 3.1.12 (op. cit, Vol. IV, p. 53).

12Cf. Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. IV, pp. 35ff.

75

one another in much the same manner; one and the same sentence

can convey any of a number of significantly different

meanings, and the precise meaning it conveys in any given

instance (what the Mimamsakas call vacana-vyakti, the

"sentence-particular") can be ascertained only with reference

to its context (prakarana) -- that is, to the surrounding

sentences. So, the progression from morpheme- to word-

meaning, from word- to sentence-meaning, and from sentence- to

text-meaning consists of a succession of stages in which

groups of linguistic elements specify and delimit each others'

meanings so as to produce a single, unified sense.

Unity of Purpose as the Basis for Mutual Specification

Thus it is established that it is only through the

interaction and mutual delimitation of individual semantic

components that language can convey specific sentential and

textual meanings. But what governs this interaction? Just

what is it that leads us to construe a group of word meanings

with one another, and how are we to know which semantic

elements specify which? For the Mimamsakas, that factor which

connects the individual meanings of words and other linguistic

elements is unity of purpose. Unless the individual meanings

of the words in an utterance are linked to some common goal,

there will be nothing to induce the hearers of the utterance

to construe these separate meanings into a connected whole;

only the unrelated word-meanings would be understood. As

Kumarila says, "As long as unity of purpose [prayojana] is not

76

relied upon, the independent word-meanings will not be able to

attain unity. #13

It is an important tenet of the Mimamsakas that every

sentence must be interpreted so as to convey a functionally

unified and coherent meaning. Any interpretation which fails

to maintain the unity of the sentence (ekavākyata) will be

vitiated by the flaw of väkyabheda, "the splitting of the

sentence".14 In fact, this unity is for them constitutive of

the sentence. Jaimini characterizes the sentence as follows:

"A single sentence [exists] because of unity of purpose; it

would stand in need [akänksa] if there were a division [of its

parts] . #15 So it is functional unity that determines the

unity of the sentence. The individual parts of the sentence

connect with the whole because they subserve the overall

purpose of the sentence and are thus "needed" by it. It is

only in response to this "need" (akanksa) that any expressive

element of language can associate itself with any other;

according to Kumarila, "Connection is, in every case,

dependent upon need. "16

Because this need is always driven by some purpose (since

13Tantravarttika on 2.1.46 (op. cit., Vol. II, p. 467) .

14For a summary of these two key Mimamsa interpretive concepts, see Devasthali, op. cit., pp. 163-180; also, below, pp. 79ff.

15Mīmamsasutra 2.1.46 [Ānandasrama Sanskrit Series 97, Vol. II, p. 431).

16Tantravarttika on 2.2.3 (op. cit., Vol. III, p. 24) .

77

anything that is needed is always needed for something),

connections between words or other linguistic elements are, by

necessity, hierarchical. The point is made concisely by

Śālikanathamisra (in his commentary on Prabhakara's BrhatI) ,

"No connection is possible without a relation of primacy and

subordination. #17 Whenever two or more linguistic elements

combine with one another to produce a connected meaning, one

of these elements will be predominant and the others

subordinate to it; the former will be that which stands in

need and the latter the element or elements capable of filling

this need. Elements of equal predominance cannot be connected

with one another, because that need which is the driving force

behind the connection of all linguistic elements does not hold

between them. 18

The hierarchical character of all linguistic relations,

coupled with the required functional unity of sentences

(ekavakyata), makes it necessary that in every sentence there

should be one predominant element, to which all others are

subordinate. As Kumarila puts it, "This being the case [i.e.

the functional unity of the sentence being established], only

one word-meaning will be predominant, and the others will be

17Rjuvimalapañcika on 3.1.1 (in BrhatI, Madras University Sanskrit Series 25, 1964, p. 628).

18Cf. Sābarabhasya and Tantravarttika (op. cit., Vol. IV, pp. 11-113) and BrhatI (Madras University Sanskrit Series 25, op. cit., pp. 698-701) on Mimamsasutra 3.1.22.

78

mentioned as qualifiers [visesanas] [of that] . #19 This

conclusion, of course, raises the further question: in a given

sentence, which element will be predominant?

The Mimamsakas argue that in any sentence it is the

element of "becoming" or "bringing into being" (bhava or

bhavana) expressed by the verb (or, more precisely, the verbal

suffix) which is predominant; all other word- or morpheme-

meanings serve, directly or indirectly, to qualify this

element, and are hence subordinate to it.20 It is from this

element of bhavana that that "need" which determines the

functional unity of the sentence and causes a hearer to

connect the individual meanings of its component words arises.

The "event" expressed by the verb can transpire only through

the working of those already existing entities connected with

it. For example, in the sentence, "Devadatta cooks rice in a

pot by means of fire," the act of cooking expressed by the

verb is made possible only through the interaction of

Devadatta, the rice, the pot, and the fire;21 by contrast,

these four elements, expressed by nouns, do not depend on the

1sTantravarttika on 2.1.46 (op. cit., vol. II, p. 437) .

20Cf. Śābarabhāsya on 2.1.1-4 [Bhāvārthādhikarana] (op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 333-358, especially pp. 340-341 and 355- 358); also Ślokavarttika, Vakyādhikarana 330ff. (op. cit., pp. 661f£ . )

21Because it is only through the interaction of such existing elements that the action expressed by the verb can come into being, these elements are referred to in Sanskrit grammatical and linguistic theory as productive or active factors (kārakas) .

79

act of cooking, or on each other, for their very existence.

They are already established (siddha), while the action is "to

be established" (sadhya). Thus it is the verbal element that

stands in need of the others, and they aid in, and hence are

subordinate to, that "coming into being" which is expressed by

the verb. This reasoning is summed up in the often-cited

bhuta-bhavya-nyaya ("principle of that which exists and that

which must be brought into being"): "When something which

exists and something which must be brought into being are

mentioned together, that which exists is pointed out for the

sake of that which is to be brought into being."22

The "need" generated by the bhavana, the "bringing into

being" expressed by the verbal suffix, is threefold. When we

hear such a suffix it raises the following questions: What is

to be brought into being, by what means is it to be brought

into being, and how (that is, by what specific procedures) is

it to be brought into being?23 The answers to these

questions are not provided by the verbal suffix itself and

must be sought in the surrounding words of the same sentence

and, if necessary, in surrounding sentences; it is in this way

that the need arising from the bhavana unites disparate words

22bhūtabhavyasamuccarane bhutam bhavyayopadisyate; cf. Śabarabhāsya on 3.4.40 (op. cit., Vol IV, p. 423). For a collection of citations and references in Mīmamsa works, see Kevalānandasarasvatī's Mīmamsakosa (Delhi: * Sri Satguru Publications, 1992 [reprint]), Vol. 6, pp. 3063-4.

23Śabarabhāsya, cit., p. and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 350ff. op. Vol. II, 341

80

and sentences into functionally unified wholes.

Consider, for example, a typical Vedic injunction: "One

who desires heaven should sacrifice with the Jyotistoma"

(jyotistomena svargakāmo yajeta) .24 What is it that is to be

brought into being by the action enjoined in this sentence?

It might at first seem as if it is only the sacrificial

performance that is to be brought into being; it is, after

all, the verbal root denoting sacrifice (vyaj) to which the

optative (injunctive) suffix -eta, the element expressive of

bhavana, is appended. But this will not do. If the

injunction is to function properly (i.e. if it is to motivate

its hearers to action), then the ultimate object to be

achieved by its performance must be something desirable in

itself. The only element in the sentence suitable for this

role is heaven (svarga-); thus we must understand attainment

heaven to be the ultimate result of this sacrificial

performance. 25 People will undertake sacrificial action (or

24Cited in Sabarabhasya on 6.1.1 (op. cit., Vol. V, p. 173) .

25Śabarabhāsya, op. cit .. Vol. II, p. 340 and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 350. Prabhakara's view of the sacrificer's motivation is more complex; he agrees that the expectation of some desirable result (phala) is necessary to prompt one to undertake a sacrificial action enjoined by the Veda, but nevertheless argues that it is primarily the sense of obligatoriness created by the injunctive verbal suffix, rather than the ultimate result, which motivates the sacrificer. Some Western scholars (beginning with Stcherbatsky) have seen this notion of obligatoriness as analogous to Kant's categorical imperative. This discussion of motivation is one of the few points of Prabhakara's system to have received serious attention from modern scholars; cf., for example, Hajime Nakamura, "Problem of the Categorical

81

any action at all, for that matter), only if they can expect

to accomplish some desirable result by doing so. If the thing

to be brought into being by the performance of this Vedic

injunction were merely the sacrificial act itself, no one

would be prompted to action by it; the injunction would then

serve no purpose whatsoever. The injunction will be

purposeful only if we understand the sacrifice to be capable

of satisfying the stated desire of the sacrificer; thus in the

sentence, "One who desires heaven should sacrifice with the

Jyotistoma," the object of the bhavana, the thing to be

brought into being, must be heaven, understood as the ultimate

result of the sacrifice here enjoined.

The sacrificial performance itself, expressed by both the

verbal root Vyaj ("sacrifice") and the word jyotistoma (the

proper name of a particular sacrifice), must be understood as

fulfilling the second "need" generated by the bhavana, that of

a means or instrument by which the result can be brought into

being.26 Thus the injunction, "One who desires heaven should

Imperative in the Philosophy of Prabhakara School: A Brief Note, " in R.C. Dwivedi ed., Studies in Mīmāmsa (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1994), pp. 169-183 (itself a summary and critique of Th. Stcherbatsky, "Über die Nyayakanika des Vacaspatimisra und die Indische Lehre vom kategorischen Imperativ," in Beitrage zur Literaturwissenschaft und Geistesgeschichte Indiens, Bonn: Kommissionsverlag Fritz Klopp, 1926, pp. 369- 80), and Irene Wicher, "Svargakäma," Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde Südasiens 38 (1994), pp. 509-522. Prabhakara's main discussion of the question is found in BrhatI on sūtras 6.1.1- 3 (Madras University Sanskrit Series 26), pp. 1-54.

26Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 351-352. Because the intended result does not appear immediately at the conclusion of the sacrificial performance, the sacrifice

82

sacrifice with the Jyotistoma," properly analyzed, can be

restated as follows, "One should bring heaven into being by

means of the Jyotistoma sacrifice" (jyotistomena yāgena

svargam bhavayet) .

There is nothing in the sentence itself to fulfill the

third need generated by the bhavana, that of a specific set of

procedures to be followed in order to bring about the intended

result. We know that we are to perform the Jyotistoma

sacrifice in order to attain heaven, but we do not know yet

precisely what is entailed by the performance of this

sacrifice. For this information, we must turn to the

sentences surrounding this primary injunction, sentences which

will specify the preparation and offering of various

sacrificial materials, the deities to which these materials

are to be offered, the ritual formulas (mantras) to be recited

in the course of these offerings, and so on. It is only when

all three "needs" of the bhavana have been filled in this way

that the Vedic injunction becomes fully comprehensible and,

thus, performable.

Since the complete understanding of the bhavana generated

by a single Vedic injunction requires the hearer to draw on

information from multiple surrounding sentences, it should be

cannot be regarded as the immediate cause of the result. Thus the Mimamsakas postulate, as the immediate result of the sacrifice, an imperceptible force which they call apūrva (the "new thing" created by the sacrifice); the sacrifice produces the apurva, and the apurva, at some time in the future, produces the desired result. Cf. Sabarabhāsya, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 340 and pp. 358ff.

83

obvious that all bhavanas do not operate equally and

independently. All of the sentences which surround a primary

injunction, and from which the specific procedures of the rite

it enjoins are arrived at, must have some bhavana of their

own; however, these differ from the bhavana conveyed by the

primary injunction in that they are ultimately subordinated to

it. On this basis the Mimamsakas divide the verbs contained

in the Veda, which express bhavana, into two main classes,

primary (pradhana) and secondary (guna) .27 Verbs expressive

of actions which entail the modification or preparation of

materials28 to be used in other actions are regarded as

secondary. Such actions do not in and of themselves produce

any beneficial sacrificial result (phala) for their

performers; they are to be performed because they make

possible (by providing suitable materials) other, primary,

actions which do produce such results.

As with the connection of elements within a single

sentence, connections between multiple sentences are

ultimately determined by unity of purpose within a given text.

The actions enjoined by secondary injunctions have the

production or modification of substances as their immediate

object but, as these substances themselves play an essential

27Sabarabhāsya on Mīmamsasutra 2.1.6-8, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 379ff.

28Including preparation by the recitation of appropriate mantras or by the mental dedication of substances to particular deities.

84

role in the action enjoined by some primary injunction, the

secondary injunctions ultimately subserve the purpose of the

primary injunction with which they are connected (i.e., the

production of a particular result for the sacrificer). And,

once again, we see that the connections between sacrificial

elements (and, thereby, between the texts which enjoin

them) 29 are necessarily hierarchical. A secondary action is

subordinate to the substance it modifies, the substance is

subordinate to the primary action in which it is used, and the

primary action is subordinate to the sacrificial result it is

meant to produce. 30 Mult e actions may be seen as

constituting a single, complex, ritual performance only

insofar as they all, directly or indirectly, subserve a single

ultimate purpose; likewise, multiple sentences may be seen as

constituting a single, coherent text only insofar as they all

ultimately subserve a single ultimate purpose (i.e., the

injunction of a complex ritual performance which will produce

a particular sacrificial result for its performer).

So, the process by which individual sentence meanings

combine to form a functionally unified text parallels that by

29In Mimamsa text analysis, there is always a parallelism between the hierarchical organization of the elements of a ritual action and that of the textual elements by which they are described or enjoined: if action A is subordinate to action B, then the sentence or sentences enjoining action A are subordinate to those enjoining action B.

30The chain of subordination may be extended indefinitely; the performance of any secondary action may require materials which may themselves require ritual preparation by further secondary actions.

85

which individual word meanings combine to form functionally

unified sentence meanings. This parallelism is highlighted by

the Mimamsakas' use of the term maha-vakya ("great-sentence")

to designate a collection of sentences which form a

functionally unified text. At all levels of language, it is

only subservience to a single purpose which allows disparate

semantic units to combine into coherent wholes.

Sentential Coherence and the Splitting of Sentences

The need to read sentences as functionally coherent

wholes plays a central role in Mimamsa text analysis. Any

interpretation which requires a sentence to serve multiple

injunctive functions will be vitiated by the flaw of vākya-

bheda ("splitting of the sentence"), and hence must be

rejected as untenable. As we shall see, determining the

precise nature of the unity required of sentences is a complex

matter which requires careful analysis; nevertheless, the

requirement of functional unity within sentences provides one

of the most basic tools the Mimamsakas bring to bear in the

resolution of particular interpretive problems.

One of the seminal treatments of vakya-bheda in the

Mīmamsa system is found in the Vajapeyādhikarana (MImāmsāsutra

1.4.6-8).31 The example under discussion is the following

sentence: vājapeyena svārājyakamo yajeta ("One who desires

sovereignty should sacrifice with vajapeya"). The word

31Sābarabhāsya and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 290-294, and Brhati, Madras University Sanskrit Series 24, pp. 222-228.

86

vajapeya ordinarily signifies a kind of gruel made from rice

or other grains; can we understand it here as enjoining the

use of this substance in some sacrifice, or must we take the

word vajapeya to be the proper name of a sacrifice? At first

glance, the answer seems obvious. Sacrifice, by definition,

entails the offering of some substance to some deity. The

word vajapeya denotes a substance suitable for such an

offering. The sentence, then, may be interpreted as enjoining

a sacrifice, having sovereignty as its result, and in which

vajapeya is the substance to be offered.

But this will not do. If the sentence were interpreted

in this way, it would suffer from the flaw of vakya-bheda.

This reading requires the sentence to enjoin two quite

separate things: the performance of the sacrifice for the sake

of sovereignty, and the use of vajapeya as the offering-

material in this sacrifice. In effect, it treats the

utterance as if it were made up of two separate sentences:

"One who desires sovereignty should sacrifice" (svarājykāmo

yajeta), and "One should sacrifice by means of vājapeya"

(vājapeyena yajeta) . 32

It would not be possible to understand the word yajeta

("One should sacrifice"), uttered only once, as construing

with both svārājyakama and vajapeya, as the word would be

called upon to play different and mutually exclusive

functional roles in connection with these two; it would

32Śābarabhāsya, ibid., p. 292.

87

function as a predicate (vidhi) in the first sentence, and as

a subject of predication (anuvada -- i.e. that in connection

with which something is predicated) in the second.

Kumārila explains the problem as follows: in the

expression, "One who desires sovereignty should sacrifice, "

the act of sacrifice is predicated (vidheya) and presented as

something to be taken up (upādeya) as the means to a

particular result (i.e. sovereignty), and is therefore

subordinate (gunabhuta) with respect to that result; the

result (sovereignty), by contrast, is made the subject of

predication (anūdya or anuvadya) and presented as the point of

reference (uddesya) with a view toward which the sacrifice is

taken up, and is therefore predominant (pradhanabhūta) with

respect to the sacrifice.33 On the other hand, in the

expression, "One should sacrifice by means of vajapeya, " it is

the vajapeya that is predicated, that is to be taken up (as a

means to accomplishing the sacrifice), and is therefore

subordinate; the sacrifice expressed by the word yajeta is the

subject of this predication, the point of reference with a

view toward which the väjapeya is taken up, and is therefore

predominant with respect to it.

33Tantravärttika, ibid., p. 292. These two incompatible sets of semantic roles come to be known in the later Mimamsa literature as the viruddha-trikas, the "contradictory triads"; cf., for example, (on 1.4.8) Somesvarabhatta's Nyayasudha (in Mīmamsadarsanam, PracyabharatI Granthamala 22, Vol. II [1986] ) , p. Madhava' s Jaiminīyanyayamalavistara (Vrajajīvan Prācyabhāratī Granthamāla 35, 1989 [reprint] ), pp. 103,

55-56, and Bhavanatha's Mimamsanayaviveka (New Delhi: Rastriya Samskrta Samsthanam, 1977), p. 201.

88

Thus, if, in the sentence vajapeyena svārājykāmo yajeta

("One who desires sovereignty should sacrifice with

vajapeya"), the word vajapeya were taken to denote the

substance by means of which the sacrifice is to be performed,

then the word yajeta ("One should sacrifice") would be called

upon to play two contradictory semantic roles within one and

the same sentence. The requirement of sentential unity would

thereby be violated, and the sentence would suffer from the

flaw of vakya-bheda. This interpretation is therefore

dismissed as unacceptable; we must find a way to make sense of

the terms of the sentence without forcing a sentential split.

If the word väjapeya is understood to be the proper name

of a sacrifice, rather than to designate a particular

sacrificial material, the difficulty will vanish. One will

recall that for the Mimamsakas a sentence such as "One who

desires heaven should sacrifice" (svargakamo yajeta) , properly

analyzed, can be restated as "One should bring heaven into

being by means of sacrifice" (yagena svargam bhavayet).

Analogously, "One who desires sovereignty should sacrifice

with the Vajapeya" (vājapeyena svārājyakāmo yajeta) can be

reformulated as "One should bring sovereignty into being by

means of the sacrifice [named] Vajapeya" (vājapeyena yāgena

svārājyam bhavayet). On this reading, the term vajapeya and

the verbal root Vyaj ("sacrifice"), despite their disparate

syntactical treatment in the Vedic injunction, are co-

89

referential (samanadhikarana) .34 Thus, the sentence enjoins

a single bhavana with a single result (sovereignty) and a

single means (the sacrifice called Vajapeya) -- hence, no

vākya-bheda.35

Thus any given sentence can contain only a single

injunction directed toward a single result. But what exactly

constitutes a "single injunction"? Need the "single thing"

enjoined by a sentence be confined to a single word (such as

yajeta, "One should sacrifice") or a set of co-referential

elements (such as the name vajapeya and the verbal root Vyaj) ?

The answer is no. Only a single action can be enjoined by a

given Vedic sentence, but such an action may sometimes be

enjoined along with one or more of those productive factors

(kārakas -- cf. above, p. 78) which are directly linked with

it, and subordinate to it. This is known in Mīmāmsa parlance

as visista-vidhana ("qualified injunction").

As an example, consider the following sentence: "One

34On the co-referentiality of sacrificial names with the verbal root vyaj, see especially the Udbhidadhikarana (1.4.1- 2) -- Sabarabhasya and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 268-277, and Brhati (Madras University Sanskrit Series 24), pp. 180-196. Sacrificial names are not, properly speaking, injunctive. They (typically, at least) convey no new information about the actions they designate; they perform a referential function within Vedic texts, serving to link sentences connecting a sacrifice with a particular result (as here) with others which specify materials or procedures for the same sacrifice.

35By contrast, if the word väjapeya were taken to denote a substance, the sentence would express two separate bhavanās, one with sovereignty as its result and sacrifice as its means, and another with sacrifice as its result and vājapeya as its means.

90

purchases the soma with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old [cow] "

(arunayā pingāksyā ekahāyanyā somam krīnāti) .36 Here, it is

argued, "One purchases with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old

[cow] " forms a single, complex predicate, enjoined in relation

to the soma, a substance to be used as a sacrificial offering

as part of the Jyotistoma (the sacrifice being described in

the passage in which the foregoing sentence is found). It

might be objected that accepting such a complex predicate

would expose one's interpretation to the same flaw of vākya-

bheda discussed above. The act of purchasing would be

predicated (vidheya) with respect to the soma, but would serve

as the subject of predication (anuvada) in relation to which

its qualifiers (the pink-eyed, one-year-old cow and the

redness of the cow) are enjoined;"7 it would thus be forced

to play contradictory semantic roles, just like the word

"sacrifice" in "One who desires sovereignty should sacrifice

with vajapeya." How can this or any sentence be interpreted

as a "qualified injunction" without destroying the unity of

the sentence meaning?

36The sentence is analyzed in one of the most important and most frequently cited sections of the Mimamsa system, the Arunādhikarana (3.1.12) -- cf. Sabarabhasya and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. IV, pp. 33-65, and Brhati, Madras University Sanskrit Series 25, pp. 658-668; cf. also Mīmamsakośa, op. cit., pp. 529-622. Other important discussions of visista- vidhana are found in the Paurnamasyadhikarana (2.2.3-8 -- 'cf. Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. III, pp. 32-27) and the Paśusomādhikarana (2.2.17-20 -- cf. Tantravārttika, ibid., pp. 74ff) .

37Cf. Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. IV, p. 55 (on 3.1.12) .

91

The avoidance of vakya-bheda in cases of qualified

injunction is explained as follows: while, properly speaking,

only a single element can be enjoined by a single sentence,

that element which is enjoined (in this sentence, the act of

purchase), is qualified (visista) by several subordinate

elements. The qualified action can be enjoined only if its

qualifiers (visesanas -- e.g. the one-year-old COW, the

redness, etc.) are likewise understood to be enjoined.

Thereby, a sentence containing a qualified injunction, even if

it can (in accordance with the principle of ekavākyatā)

explicitly enjoin only a single element, can cause one to

understand, by implication, the injunction of those qualifiers

connected with it. As Kumārila explains, "This [i.e. the

injunctive word in a qualified injunction], having enjoined

once and ceased functioning, because its own meaning would

otherwise be incompatible, gives rise [by implication] 38 to

other injunctions bearing on each of the qualifiers; thereby,

without abandoning the unified form understood from the Vedic

38This kind of implication is what the Mimamsakas call arthapatti -- the necessary presumption of something otherwise unknown. When one knows of the existence or occurrence of something which would not be possible without the existence or occurrence of a second, unknown, thing, one may legitimately presume that this thing exists or has occurred. For example, if we are told that "Fat Devadatta doesn't eat by day, " we may legetimately presume that he does eat at night -- otherwise his fatness would be inexplicable (cf. Ślokavarttika, Arthapatti 51ff). The Mimamsakas argue that arthapatti is a means of valid knowledge in its own right, and must be recognized as something Ślokavärttika, distinct from inference (anumāna) -- Arthapatti Śalikanathamisra's cf.

pp. 273-278. Prakaranapañcika (Benares Hindu University Darsana Series 4), 10-35 and

92

recitation, it is able to achieve the same result as if it

were repeated [in connection with each of these

qualifiers] . #39 Thus, the sentence, "One purchases the soma

with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old [cow]" is able to enjoin

the act of purchase, the pink-eyed, one-year-old cow, and the

redness of the cow, without violating the requirement of

sentential unity.

This theory of visista-vidhana obviously provides a

powerful interpretive tool for dealing with complex

injunctions without violating the requirement of ekavākyatā;

indeed, it might at first seem, too powerful. What is to

prevent one from interpreting a sentence such as "One who

desires sovereignty should sacrifice with vajapeya" as a case

of "qualified injunction"? On this interpretation, a single

element (sacrifice), qualified by a particular offering

material (vajapeya), would be enjoined with a view toward a

single result (sovereignty) . Hence there would be no

splitting of the sentence, and no reason to interpret the word

vājapeya as the name of a sacrifice, rather than as

designating a substance to be used in the sacrifice -- the

accepted interpretation of this and similar sentences, and the

argument for the very existence of sacrificial names, would

collapse.

Obviously, such an interpretation cannot be accepted; but

39Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 33; cf. also Tantravārttika, Vol. IV, pp. 95-96 (on 3.1.15).

93

how can one justify the disparate treatment of sentences such

as "One purchases the soma with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old

[cow]" (where visista-vidhana is allowed) from those such as

"One who desires sovereignty should sacrifice with vajapeya"

(where it is not)? The question is not dealt with as clearly

as one might wish in the Mimamsa literature, but the crucial

difference would seem to be this: In the sentence "One

purchases the soma with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old [cow] ",

despite the complex, multi-partite predicate, there is only a

single thing which must be brought into being (i.e., the act

of purchasing) and, consequently, a single bhavana. This

purchasing is performed for the sake of the soma (i.e., in

order to make it available for later sacrificial use), and is

hence subordinate to it, but the soma itself is not produced

by this action; the only new thing brought into being by the

performance here enjoined is the act of purchase itself. By

contrast, in the sentence "One who desires sovereignty should

sacrifice with vājapeya," (if vājapeya is taken to denote a

substance) there are two distinct things to be brought into

being, sacrifice (by means of vajapeya) and sovereignty (by

means of sacrifice) : there is no way these two products can be

connected with a single bhavana, and hence no way to arrive at

a unitary sentence meaning. It is the impossibility of

arriving at a single bhävana with a single result which

prevents one from interpreting this and similar sentences as

94

cases of qualified injunction.40

To return to the example in question: in the sentence

"One purchases the soma with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old

[cow]," the ability of "One purchases with a red, pink-eyed,

one-year-old [cow] " to operate as a single, complex predicate

depends on its having a functionally unified, hierarchical

structure of its own (just as complete sentences and higher

order textual units must be hierarchically ordered towards a

single purpose if they are to convey a coherent sense). The

complex predicate must contain a single predominant element,

to which all its other components are subordinated. As

before, it is the active, verbal element which assumes the

predominant role. It is primarily the act of purchase which

is predicated here; the other elements of the complex

predicate serve only as qualifiers of this action, and are

hence subordinate to it.

This understanding of the structure of complex predicates

forces the MImamsakas to challenge and ultimately reject some

of our more basic intuitions regarding the relationship

between words in a sentence. Consider the three subordinate

terms in "One purchases with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old

[cow]" (arunayā pingāksyā ekahāyanyā krīnāti). Two of these

40At is the explanation given by Bhavanätha, in the only explicit discussion of the question I any rate, this

have been able to find. Bhavanatha explains the distinction between the two sentences in his commentary on the Arunadhikarana (3.1.12) -- cf. Bhavanatha, Mimamsanayaviveka,

506-7. unpublished manuscript, Adyar Library 1.A.27, Vol. II, pp.

95

terms, pink-eyed (pingaksya) and one-year-old (ekahayanya),

are morphologically complex and are therefore to be

interpreted, for reasons already discussed, 41 as referring to

a particular substance (here understood, by context or

implication, to be a cow), qualified by the attributes denoted

by the components of these words (pink eyes and one year of

age) . Both words are marked with the instrumental case-

ending, indicating that they denote the means by which the

action of purchasing is to be performed. The substance they

denote can be exchanged for the soma to be purchased, and is

thereby able to perform the role assigned it by the

instrumental case-marking; thus there is no difficulty in

connecting these terms with the verb "One purchases" (krināti)

as subordinate elements.

But consider the remaining term in the predicate, "red"

(arunaya). This word denotes not a substance but a quality,

a color. At first, it seems natural to assume that "red" is

a qualifier of the pink-eyed, one-year-old cow; color is,

after all, a property of substances. But the Mīmamsakas'

analysis of the structure of complex predicates does not allow

for such an interpretation. If "red" is to form part of a

single, functionally unified predicate, it must be interpreted

as a qualifier not of the cow, but of the primary element of

the predicate, the act of purchase. If one were to interpret

the word "red" as a qualifier of the cow, rather than of the

41Cf. above, p. 74.

96

act of purchase, a splitting of the sentence would result; the

cow would be enjoined in connection with the act of purchase,

yet would serve as the subject of predication (anuvada) in

connection with which the quality of redness is enjoined.42

The cow cannot serve as qualifier and qualified in the same

sentence without creating a vakya-bheda. Furthermore, the

word "red", like "pink-eyed" and "one-year-old", is marked

with the instrumental case-ending; thus its referent, like

theirs, must be directly connected with the act of purchase

and must serve as a means toward the accomplishment of this

action.43

But against this interpretation the following objection

can be raised. Redness'is a property which can belong only to

substances; it is, in and of itself, formless (amūrta). It

would not be possible for such a formless, insubstantial

property to serve as a means of purchasing, or of any other

action. 44 Given this impossibility, the fact that the word

"red" is marked with the instrumental suffix cannot be

regarded as significant -- as Sabara's hypothetical opponent

puts it, "An unperformable thing cannot be enjoined even by a

hundred sentences. #45 "Redness" can in no way be used as a

means of purchase; if it is to convey any useful meaning

42Cf. Śābarabhāsya, op. cit., pp. 51, 55, and 62.

43Cf. Śabarabhāsya (on 3.1.12), op. cit., Vol. IV, p. 50.

44Ibid., pp. 40-41.

45Ibid., p. 43; cf. also p. 50.

97

(which, as part of the uniformly authoritative Veda, it must)

it must be connected with some substance -- either with the cow

mentioned here, or with other substances mentioned in the same

context (prakarana) .

Sabara answers the objection as follows: It is true that

qualities such as color must always qualify some substance or

other. But this connection between quality and substance is

not what the Vedic injunction expresses. sses. The The word "red"

(arunaya), like the words "pink-eyed" (pingaksya) and "one-

year-old" (ekahāyanya) (which refer directly to the cow), is

marked with the instrumental case-ending, indicating that it

is a means for the act of purchasing. This is a direct,

explicit statement of the Veda, and cannot simply be set

aside; we must find some way to make sense of this overt

declaration.

accomplish The meaning conveyed by the Veda is such: "One should purchasing by means Of the quality of redness. " One must try to find a way SO that [purchasing] can be accomplished by this [redness]. And a quality cannot accomplish any action except by qualifying some [material] means [sadhana] - - implication, thus, by [redness] becomes qualifier of the [material] means [i.e. the cow] 46

All the Vedic injunction tells us is that the act of

purchasing the soma is to be performed by means of a pink-

eyed, one-year-old cow, and by means of the quality of

redness. Our own understanding of the nature of qualities

leads us to understand that the redness mentioned must belong

46Ibid., p. 62.

98

to some substance and thence to connect the redness with the

pink-eyed, one-year-old cow mentioned in proximity to it; but

this connection is not directly conveyed by the Vedic

injunction itself. What is here enjoined is a single action

(purchase), qualified by a set of subordinate factors which

serve as a means to this action; thus "One purchases with a

red, pink-eyed, one-year-old [cow]" can be understood as a

single, complex, but functionally unified, predicate, enjoined

in relation to the soma. Again, it is the need to understand

all units of language as hierarchically ordered toward a

single purpose which governs interpretation.

Any meaning-elements which cannot be integrated into such

a functionally unified structure must be considered incidental

to the actual purport of the Vedic text which conveys them,

and must consequently be disregarded. Such elements, although

they are actually expressed (vacya) by the Vedic text in

question, are not part of what is "intended to be expressed"

(vivaksita) by it.

Consider the following example. In a passage describing

the Jyotistoma sacrifice, this sentence is found: "One wipes

the spoon with a woolen strainer" (dasapavitrena graham

sammärsti) .47 Here the following question is raised: Should

47The example is in Grahaikatvādhi-karana discussed (MImāmsāsūtra at length the 3.1.13-15) -- Sabarabhsya and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. IV, pp. 65-96, cf.

and Brhati, Madras University Sanskrit Series 25, pp. 668-686. The discussion immediately follows that of "One purchases the soma with a red, pink-eyed, one-year-old [cow]," to which it provides a counter-example.

99

one wipe one and only one spoon, or all of those spoons to be

used in the Jyotistoma sacrifice? The answer may seem obvious

at first. The word spoon (graha-) is marked with the

accusative singular case-ending (-m) ; part of what this suffix

conveys is that the noun to which it is attached refers to a

single entity; hence only one spoon should be wiped.48 But

the Mimamsakas argue that, in spite of the use of the singular

suffix, all spoons connected with the Jyotistoma should be

wiped; the singleness expressed by the suffix is not "intended

to be expressed" (vivaksita) by the Vedic injunction, and

hence must be dismissed as insignificant.49

In defense of this conclusion the MImamsakas turn, once

again, to the notion of vakya-bheda. The sentence in question

enjoins the act of wiping in connection with the spoon or

spoons designated by the word graha -; if the singleness

48Śabarabhāsya, ibid., pp. 70-71.

49But what does it even mean to speak of expressive intent (vivaksa) in connection with the eternal, authorless Vedic texts? Sabara does not directly address the question, but Kumārila considers the problem in some detail, and offers several possible explanations (cf. Tantravarttika on 3.1.13 -- op. cit., Vol. IV, 65-70) . The intentionality to the Vedas may be metaphorical; just as we pp. ascription of

may say of a river bank which is on the verge of collapse, "It wants to fall" (pipatisati), likewise we may say of a particular Vedic text that it "wants" or "does not want" to express some particular component of its expressed meaning, depending on whether or not this component can or cannot form part of a coherent injunction, without literally ascribing consciousness of desire to the text. Alternatively, the intentionality referred to may be that of competent Mīmāmsakas and ritualists, who have transmitted and interpreted the Vedas from time immemmorial. Or, one might even suppose that the Vedic texts are themselves conscious beings capable of literally holding intentions.

100

expressed by the nominal suffix were enjoined in connection

either with the act of wiping or with the spoon/s, a splitting

of the sentence would result. As Śabara explains, if this

singleness were enjoined in connection with the act of wiping,

it would have to be either predominant or subordinate with

respect to that action.50 The former would be impossible.

There is no way in which the act of wiping could assist or

modify "singleness" at all. And even if there were, this

"singleness" itself could serve no useful purpose here or

elsewhere.51 The spoons in connection with which the act of

wiping is enjoined are used as sacrificial implements in the

performance of the Jyotistoma, a rite which has heaven as its

result; thus, via its role in preparing these spoons for

ritual use, the act of wiping ultimately assists in the

achievement of a desirable result. The "singleness" expressed.

here, unlike the spoons, does not aid in the performance of

any fruitful ritual act, so, if the act of wiping were

enjoined with respect to it, this act, too, would be

ultimately useless.

Nor, Sabara argues, can this "singleness" be enjoined as

a subordinate element in connection with the act of wiping.

"Singleness" is a formless (amūrta) quality, and thus cannot

assist in accomplishing the act of wiping. Here, an obvious

50In accordance with the principle that relations between elements of a text are invariably hierarchical -- cf. above, pp. 76-77.

51Śabarabhāsya, ibid., pp. 84-85.

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objection arises: it has just been established, in the

discussion of "One purchases the soma with a red, pink-eyed,

one-year-old [cow]," that even a formless quality such as

redness can (indirectly) assist in the accomplishing of an

action, by qualifying some substance to be used in that

action. Śabara responds as follows:

Even if [in other sentences] some other formless [quality] accomplishes an action by qualifying its means [sadhana], nevertheless, this is not possible [here]. For here the spoon is not [enjoined] for the sake of wiping; here wiping is enjoined for the sake of the spoon. For the spoon has a purpose [in the larger ritual context]. One would have to postulate a purpose for the wiping [if it were not performed for the sake of the spoon]. If the spoon assisted the act of wiping, then [the singleness] would assist [the wiping] by means of assisting this [spoon]; thus the singleness would be an assistor of the act of wiping. But this is not the case. Therefore there is no connection between singleness and wiping.52

The crucial difference between this case and that of the red

cow lies in the inversion of the hierarchical relationship

between substance and action.

In the case of the red cow, the insubstantial quality

redness can be understood to assist in the act of purchase

because it qualifies the particular material to be used as the

means of purchase (i.e. the cow). In this sentence, the spoon

is not enjoined as a means for accomplishing the act of

wiping -- rather, the wiping is to be performed for the sake of

the spoon (or spoons). Other sentences in the passage

describing the Jyotistoma enjoin the use of the spoons to pour

52Ibid., p. 85.

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liquid sacrificial offerings -- thus they serve a known purpose

in the larger ritual context. The same cannot be said for the

act of wiping. No result is mentioned in connection with this

action; if it were not presumed to be performed in order to

prepare the spoons for use elsewhere in the Jyotistoma, one

would have to postulate for it some unspecified transcendent

result. In accordance with the principle of economy of

hypothesis (kalpana-laghava), one ought to avoid postulating

such unstated results wherever possible. Thus one must

conclude that the wiping is to be performed for the sake of

the spoon/s. Furthermore, the word spoon (graha-) is marked

with an accusative case ending, indicating that it is not a

means for act of wiping, but rather its direct object -- that

toward which the act of wiping is directed.53 Since the

53The Sanskrit grammarians define the direct object as "that which is most desired by the actor" (kartur Ipsitatamam -- cf. Panini's AstadhyayI 1.4.49) . Nevertheless, it is the usefulness of the spoons in the larger ritual context, rather than the accusative case ending, which ultimately determines its predominance with respect to the act of wiping. When there is no such usefulness in the larger context, even a substance expressed by a word in the accusative case will, perforce, be understood as a means for the action expressed in the sentence, and hence as subordinate to it; in such cases, the accusative case-ending must be interpreted figuratively as expressing not predominance with respect to the action, but relation to the action in general (karaka-samanya -- cf. below, pp. 114-115) . qualities associated with this substance (number, gender, Hence any

color, etc.) will likewise be subordinate to the action, and will consequently be "intended to be expressed" (vivaksita). E.g. in the sentence "One should sacrifice a domestic animal (pasum alabheta) the word for "domestic animal" (pasu) is marked with the masculine, singular, accustive case-ending -m. The animal in question is not used elsewhere in the ritual context (such that the act of sacrifice could be understood as a preparation of the substance for subsequent ritual use);

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spoon or spoons are not subordinate to the act of wiping, the

singleness expressed by the nominal suffix cannot, by

qualifying this spoon/s, indirectly subserve the act of wiping

(as redness can subserve the act of purchase by qualifying the

cow). Hence singleness cannot be enjoined in connection with

the act of wiping.

Nor can it be enjoined in connection with the spoon/s.

If the act of wiping and the quality of singleness,

unconnected with one another, were both enjoined in connection

with the spoon/s, another splitting of the sentence would

result. One cannot argue that the spoon/s is/are enjoined in

connection with two subordinate elements, forming a case of

qualified injunction (visista-vidhana) ; here, the spoons are

not enjoined at all. The spoons are enjoined in other

sentences describing the procedures of the Jyotistoma, as a

means for pouring liquid offerings. In this sentence the

spoons, a known element, are not part of what is predicated;

rather they serve as the subject of predication (anuvada),

that in relation to which the act of wiping is predicated

here, the animal is the material offering which makes the act of sacrifice possible, and therefore must be understood, despite the use of the accusative case, as a means for the act of sacrifice. Hence those qualities mentioned in connection with it (i.e. the singleness and masculine gender expressed by the suffix) are intended to be expressed, and one must sacrifice a single, male animal. The sentence is discussed as a counter-example to "One wipes the spoon" (under Mimamsasūtra 3.1.15 -- cf. Sabarabhasya and Tantravarttika, Vol. IV, op. cit., pp. 95-96) and at more length in the Pasvekatvadhikarana (MImamsasutra 4.1.11-16 -- cf. Sabarabhasya and Tuptika, op. cit., Vol. V, pp. 12-16 and BrhatI, Madras Sanskrit Series 25, op. cit., pp. 971-974).

104

(vidheya) and enjoined as something to be performed. If, in

this single sentence, the act of wiping and the quality of Ehe a singleness were each predicated in relation to a single

subject of predication, the requirement of sentential unity

would be violated.

Thus there is no way to interpret this sentence such that

the quality of singleness can be integrated with the other

elements of the sentence to form a functionally unified whole.

As Sabara says, " [Here], taking the spoon as its point of

reference, the act of wiping is enjoined in connection with

it. If, in addition, connection with singleness were enjoined

with respect to either the substance [i.e. the spoon/s] or the

act of wiping, then, because two connections would be

enjoined, the sentence would be split ... Thus this singleness

is unconnected with either. #54 Since it cannot be integrated

into the sentence meaning without producing a vakya-bheda, we

must understand that singleness, although it is expressed by

the nominal suffix, is "not meant to be expressed"

(avivaksita) ;55 it is incidental to the overall purport of

54 Śabarabhāsya, op. cit., Vol. IV, p. 86.

55The concept of vivaksa ("expressive intent") plays an important role in the Sanskrit grammatical tradition as well as in MImamsa. It is important, for our purposes, to note the very different uses to which the notion of vivaksā is typically put in these two traditions. The grammarians' primary task is to explain the derivation of proper morphological and syntactic structures, and they are consequently interested in the determinant of grammatical form -- role of vivaksā as a in certain cases, the presence of a specific expressive intent determines the selection of one possible form, which expresses the intended

105

the sentence, and so must be disregarded. Hence all the

spoons employed in connection with the Jyotistoma are to be

wiped.

The Ultimate Meaning of a Text

As we can see, it is only in terms of the larger

purposive structure of an entire text that the exact

significance of, and the precise relations between, the

various elements expressed by the individual words and

morphemes of a given sentence can be determined. Considered

in isolation from its context, even a comparatively simple

sentence such as "One wipes the spoon, " could bear any of a

wide range of possible significations -- the act of wiping,

qualified by the spoon/s and/or the singleness expressed by

the nominal suffix, could be enjoined as a single complex

predicate; either the wiping, or the singleness, or both,

could be predicated and enjoined in connection with the

spoon/s; the wiping, qualified by singleness, could be

enjoined in connection with the spoon/s, or, qualified by the

sense, over another, which does not (cf., for example, Patañjali's Mahabhasya on Panini 1.2.69, where the role of vivaksa in determining the formation of ekasesa compounds is discussed). By contrast the Mimamsakas, being primarily concerned with the interpretation of existing texts, use the notion of vivaksa to differentiate between the relevant and irrelevant meanings of a particular expression in a specific context -- of the many possible senses an expression actually does convey, some are "meant to be expressed" [vivaksita] and some are not (and may hence be disregarded). It is in the latter, Mimamsa-derived, sense that Anandavardhana applies the notion of vivaksa to poetic analysis, using it to classify the meanings conveyed by particular verses as either intended or unintended -- cf. below, Chapter Five, pp. 198-203 and Chapter Six, pp. 285-286.

106

spoon/s, could be enjoined in connection with singleness.

Kumārila lists dozens of possible variations in the precise

injunctive meaning which might be understood from this single

sentence.56

The job of the Mimamsaka is, by a careful analysis of the

functional connections between such a sentence and other

surrounding ones, to settle upon one of these many possible

meanings as contextually appropriate; one must determine which

elements of the sentence are predicated (vidhi) and which form

the subject of predication (anuvada), which are primary and

which are subordinate, which are qualified and which are

qualifiers, which are "intended to be expressed" (vivaksita)

and which, if any, are "not intended to be expressed"

(avivaksita). The specific meaning arrived at when all of

these variables have been fixed for a particular sentence in

a given context is called by the Mimamsakas the "sentence

particular" (vacana-vyakti) . As the term itself would

suggest, the process by which sentence-meanings mutually

specify one another to produce a specific textual meaning is

analogous to that by which individual word meanings within a

sentence mutually specify one another so as to refer to

particular entities.

As we have seen, according to the Mīmāmsakas'

understanding of verbal signification, an individual word can

refer only to a universal class property (jati, akrti), never

56Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. IV, pp. 75-76.

107

to a particular (vyakti) ; however, the several class

properties denoted by the individual words of a sentence can,

by specifying and delimiting one another, designate one or

more particulars in which these class properties are

instantiated. Similarly, a text consists of a collection of

sentences, each of which, taken individually, could convey any

of a wide range of meanings; functioning collectively,

specifying and delimiting one another, the general meaning

conveyed by each can be reduced to a particular sentence

meaning (vacana-vyakti), in which the relations of subject and

predicate, primary and subordinate, etc. are definitely fixed.

The determination of the precise vacana-vyaktis of

particular sentences in particular contexts is fundamental to

the Mimamsa project of Vedic interpretation. As Kumārila

says

In a single sentence, out of the many meanings understood from the hearing of stems, suffixes, and words, which is comprised in the injunction or useful [in connection with what is enjoined], and which is not ?-- in considering this, because all [of these meanings] are seen [in the sentencel, it is only by the differentiation of vacana- vyaktis that one can determine which is enjoined [vihita] or used [viniyukta], and which is not. 57

Thus it is only by determining the vacana-vyaktis of the

sentences that make up a Vedic text that one can ascertain

definitely what is to be done and what is not to be done in

57Tantravarttika, ibid., p. 74. For more on vacana-vyakti cf., for example, Sabarabhasya on 1.1.1 (op. cit., pp. 5-6), 3.1.12 (Vol. IV, p. 55), and 6.1.1 (Vol. V, p. 174); Tantravarttika on 1.3.7 (op. cit., Vol. II, p. 135), 1.4.10 (p. 299), 2.2.6 (Vol. III, p. 36), 2.2.10 (p. 46), 2.2.16 (p. 54-55), and 3.1.8 (Vol. IV, p. 26).

108

performing the ritual enjoined by that text.

So, in the comprehension of any complete, coherent text

(Vedic or otherwise) -- that is, a text whose parts are

hierarchically ordered toward a single ultimate goal -- the

hearer or reader of the text must pass through a series of

interpretive stages. One first comprehends the universal

meanings of individual words and morphemes. Certain of these

meanings (i.e. the bhavanas expressed by verbal suffixes -- cf.

above, pp. 78ff) generate a psychological expectancy which one

seeks to fill by connecting these meanings with those of

surrounding words or morphemes. Groups of words, united by

their capacity to fulfill this expectancy generated by

bhavana, specify one another and form particular, coherent

sentence-meanings. These sentence meanings are likewise

joined with one. another by their capacity to fulfill the

expectancy generated by some bhavana (since, if the three

"needs" generated by a bhavana cannot be filled by the words

within a sentence, one must look to surrounding sentences for

the requisite information -- cf. above, p. 82), and further

specify one another so as to convey particular vacana-vyaktis.

At this point all semantic components of the text are

integrated into a single, functionally unified structure,

organized toward a single end (in the case of a Vedic text,

the injunction of a complex ritual act which will produce a

particular sacrificial result for its performer)

This final stage of textual comprehension, in which the

109

precise, hierarchical relations of all semantic components of

a text, both within and between sentences, have been

definitely ascertained, the Mīmamsakas call paryavasāna58

("completion" -- as opposed to avāntara-vākyārtha, 59

"intermediate sentence meaning", a meaning understood from a

part of a text which must ultimately be revised or restricted

in the light of context). Paryavasäna is the end point of the

hermeneutical process, the point at which all interpretive

questions have been settled and the ultimate, functionally

integrated meaning of the entire text becomes clear.

Figurative Expression60

It is only in connection with the need to arrive at a

single, functionally unified, textual meaning that the

question of figurative or non-literal expression (laksanā or

gunavrtti) 61 arises. Each of the individual words and

58Cf., for example, Sabarabhsya on 3.1.12 (op. cit., Vol. IV, p. 56); Slokavārttika, Vakyadhikarana 342 (op. cit., p. 664); Tantravärttika on 1.4.24 (op. cit., Vol. II, p. 328), 2.1.1 (pp. 334, 338, 342, 349), 2.2.6 (Vol. III, p. 33), 2.2.18 (p. 72), 2.2.19 (p. 79), 2.2.21 (p. 83), and 3.1.14 (Vol. IV, p. 84); BrhatI on 1.3.33 (pp. 168, 171) .

59Cf., for example, Tantravarttika on 1.2.7 (op. cit., Vol. II, p. 16) and 1.3.7 (p. 135) .

60The most important discussions of figurative expression can be found under MImamsasutra 1.4.23 (cf. Sabarabhasya and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 113-127 and BrhatI, Madras University Sanskrit Series 24, pp. 255-267) and Mimamsāsutra 3.2.1 (cf. Sabarabhasya and Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. IV, pp. 123-130, and BrhatI, Madras University Sanskrit Series 25, pp. 707-716) .

61The MImamsakas (especially Kumārilabhatta and his followers) draw a distinction between gunavrtti (metaphorical expression) and laksanā (non-metaphorical figurative

110

morphemes of which any given text is composed will express a

single literal meaning -- that meaning with which it is

eternally and invariably connected. As we have seen, these

meanings, mutually specifying one another, combine to form

coherent (that is, uni-functional) sentential and textual

meanings. Any meaningful component of a sentence or text

which, interpreted literally, could not be satisfactorily

integrated within the overall meaning of that sentence or

text, must be interpreted as conveying some secondary or

figurative meaning which can be integrated within that overall

meaning. Thus, figurative interpretation is always a last

resort -- whenever it is possible to do so, one must interpret

expression -- metonymy, synecdoche, etc.); nevertheless, the processes of gunavrtti and laksana are basically the same and are governed by the same contextual conditions. Kumārila explains the distinction as follows: "The use [of a word] in a meaning necessarily connected with its literal meaning is called figurative expression [laksanā]; but usage arising from contact with indicated qualities [laksyamāna] [gunas] which are figuratively

(Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 313). is metaphorical [gauna] " Metaphorical expression involves a two-stage figurative process. In the sentence "Devadatta is a lion" (simho devadattah) the word "lion" first figuratively indicates the qualities associated with a lion (fierceness, bravery, etc.) ; the word "lion", indicating these qualities, refers, by a further figurative indication, to Devadatta (understood as the possessor of these qualities). "Devadatta is fierce, brave, etc." Thus we understand the sentence to mean So, while metaphorical usage is a multi-stage process and is thus somewhat more complex than metonymical or other figurative expression, it involves the same basic operation -- the replacement of a contextually inapplicable literal sense with a closely connected meaning which is suitable to the context.

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literally. 62

There are three conditions which must be met if one is to

interpret any word or expression figuratively. First, as just

discussed, there must be no possibility of understanding the

word or expression in its literal sense

(mukhyarthasambhava) .63 Second, there must be some

connection (sambandha -- e.g. physical proximity, similarity,

cause/effect relation) 64 between the literal meaning of the

word or expression and the figurative meaning to be understood

from it -- otherwise any word could figuratively convey any

meaning at all, and there would be no way of settling on a

particular meaning as the correct one. Third, the meaning to

be understood figuratively must have some purpose

(prayojana) -- that is to say, it must, unlike the primary

meaning of the expression in question, connect usefully with

the overall meaning of the text in question and thus form part

62Thus, the process by which one moves from literal to

91). figurative interpretation is one of arthapatti (cf. above, p. Where an expression, interpreted literally, would make no sense, one must assume that some figurative meaning is intended -- otherwise, the use of words or expressions which can convey no contextually appropriate literal meaning would not be explicable. Cf. K. Kunjunni Raja, Indian Theories of Meaning (Madras: Adyar Library and Research Centre, 1977 [second ed.]), pp. 258-9.

63Cf. Devasthali, Mimamsa: The Ancient Indian Science of Sentence Interpretation, op. cit., pp. 58-59 and K. Kunjunni Raja, Indian Theories of Meaning, op. cit., pp. 258ff.

64Cf. Śābarabhāsya (on 1.4.23), op. cit., Vol. II, p. 316. Mimamsasutra 1.4.23 provides a list of possible connections which may hold between literal and figurative meanings. Similar lists may be found in Nyayasutra 2.2.62 and in Patañjali's Mahabhasya on Panini 4.1.48.

112

of a functionally integrated, coherent text.65 So the

literal meaning, which cannot connect with the overall

purposive structure of the text, is replaced by a second,

related, meaning which can connect with it.

For example, consider the sentence, "The grass-bundle is

the sacrificer" (yajamanah prastarah) .66 If both words in

this sentence were interpreted literally, we would have to

understand the sentence either as assigning the role of the

grass-bundle to the sacrificer, or as assigning the role of

the sacrificer to the grass-bundle. The grass-bundle is used

to form a bed on which the sacrificial spoons are placed when

not in use; if the sacrificer were used as a bed for the

spoons, he would be unable to perform the actions required of

him in the course of the ritual performance. The grass-bundle

is insentient, and incapable of performing the actions

required of the sacrificer. Thus, considered in the light of

the larger ritual context, there is no way to derive an

acceptable meaning from the sentence if both its component

words are understood literally.

However, if the word "sacrificer" is interpreted

figuratively, the interpretive problem can be resolved. The

65Cf. Śābarabhāsya on 6.4.43 (op. cit., Vol. V, p. 297) and Devasthali, op. cit., p. 66. The same three conditions for figurative expression are recognized by Anandavardhana and the later Ālamkārikas but, as Devasthali notes, their understanding of prayojana differs markedly from that of the Mīmāmsakas (cf. below, Chapter Five, p. 228) .

65 Sabarabhāsya, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 113ff.

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grass-bundle assists in the accomplishment of the sacrificer's

purpose (the performance of the sacrifice and the enjoyment of

the appropriate sacrificial result), and may on this ground be

metaphorically described as "the sacrificer". The

identification of the grass bundle with the sacrificer

emphasizes the importance of its role in the sacrifice and may

thus serve as a form of praise; this praise helps to motivate

the sacrificer to use the grass-bundle as part of the

sacrificial performance. Thus, if the word "sacrificer" is

interpreted figuratively, the sentence can be seen as serving

a useful function and subserving the overall purpose of the

text. 67

This replacement of a figurative meaning for an

unconstruable literal one can occur at any level of language.

Words, whole sentences, or even individual morphemes may, if

their literal meaning cannot be integrated with those of

surrounding elements, be understood as conveying a secondary

or figurative sense. Figurative expression at the word level

67The interpretation of this and similar sentences as praising elements of the sacrifice is a crucial element of the Mīmāmsā to Vedic exegesis The Mīmāmsakas' understanding of the nature of the Veda demands that any approach

element of any Vedic text subserve, directly or indirectly, the injunction of one sacrificial action or another. Yet many Vedic sentences do not directly enjoin anything -- e.g. statements of fact, narratives of the acts of the gods, etc. Such statements, it is argued, figuratively and understood as praising particular sacrificial must be interpreted

acts or substances (or as dispraising acts or substances to be avoided), and thus indirectly subserving one sacrificial injunction or another. Such passages are known as arthavādas. Cf. Śabarabhasya on 1.2.1-18 (op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 1-32) ; also Jha, Purva-Mimamsa in its Sources, op. cit, pp. 177-182.

114

is seen in the sentence just discussed. The figurative

interpretation of whole sentences must often be resorted to in

the interpretation of arthavāda passages -- passages which

consist of merely declarative statements, and thus,

interpreted literally, could not be seen as subserving the

overall purpose of the text in which they occur (namely, the

injunction of some particular sacrificial action); such

statements are to be understood as figuratively conveying

praise for those elements of the sacrifice with which they are

connected and hence indirectly subserving the overall purpose

of the texts to which they belong.68

For figurative expression at the morpheme level, consider

the sentence "One offers the grains as an oblation" (saktuñ

juhoti) .69 Here the word "grains" is marked with the

accusative case-ending. The accusative case ordinarily

indicates that the referent of the word marked by it is

predominant with respect to the action expressed by the verb

(cf. above, pp. 102-103) . But here the accusative ending

cannot be interpreted literally. The grains mentioned in this

sentence serve no purpose in the larger ritual context; if the

offering as an oblation were performed for their sake, it too

would fail to connect usefully with the larger ritual context,

and the sentence as a whole would be purposeless (anarthaka).

68Cf. Kunjunni Raja, op. cit., p. 269.

69Cf. Śābarabhāsya on 2.1.11-12 (op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 384-389) .

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Thus, the grains cannot be predominant with respect to the act

of offering, and the literal interpretation of the accusative

case-ending must be rejected as untenable. We must interpret

the case-ending as figuratively conveying general connection

with the action (karaka-samanya), rather than the specific

connection with the action literally expressed by the

accusative. 70

So, figurative signification may operate at any level of

textual organization, but the resort to figurative

interpretation is always driven by the same basic need -- the

need to integrate all the components of a given text into a

hierarchically ordered unit directed toward a single ultimate

purpose. It is only when the literal meaning of any component

cannot be fitted into such a framework that the device of

figurative interpretation is acceptable.

However while, in theory, figurative interpretation may

be resorted to only when absolutely necessary, in practice,

the need to resort to it proves to be pervasive. As we have

seen (above, pp. 70ff), the Mimamsakas argue that individual

words can directly refer only to universal class-properties;

it is only through the interaction and mutual specification of

these universal meanings that words, construed in functionally

unified sentences, can designate particulars. Śabara takes

this process to be one of figurative signification. Words can

literally express only universals; when they are used to refer

70Cf. Tantravarttika, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 386-387.

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to particulars (as they generally are) they are being used

figuratively. As he says, "People figuratively employ

[upacaranti] the word domestic-animal [pasu], which expresses

a class-property [akrti], with reference to a particular

substance having horns, a tail, hair, and four feet."71

Kumarila and the Bhatta-Mimamsakas, following this line of

reasoning, argue that all sentence-meanings are conveyed

figuratively. 72 The construing of word-meanings intoa

unified sentence-meaning always involves the replacement of

unconnected, universal meanings with particularized and

contextually delimited meanings connected with these

universals -- hence sentence meanings are invariably conveyed

71Śabarabhāsya (on 2.2.17), op. cit., Vol. III, p. 68.

72However, Prabhakara and his followers do not agree that all sentence meaning is conveyed figuratively. The Prābhakaras' understanding of the nature differs markedly from that of the Bhattas. sentence-meaning Prabhākara held the view that the words of a sentence express their meanings already construed with one another (anvitabhidhana-vada) . This is contrasted with the Bhatta view that the words of a sentence express their individual meanings, which are only subsequently construed (abhihitānvaya-vāda) into a coherent sentence-meaning Thus for Prabhakara the understanding of the sentence-meaning does not arise, by a process of figurative expression, after the individual word-meanings have been understood: the complete, construed sentence-meaning is conveyed directly and immediately by the words themselves. It is hard to see how this theory can be squared with statements of Sabara such as that quoted above, and with the Mīmamsa view

as their that individual words can have only universal class-properties meanings; nevertheless, the theory has been vigorously defended by the later Prabhakaras, most notably by Śālikanāthamiśra in his Vakyarthamatrkavrtti (in Prakaranapañcikā, ed. A. Subrahmanya Sastri,Benares Hindu University Darsana Series 4, 1961, pp. 376-450). On abhihitānvaya-vāda and anvitābhidhāna-vāda, cf. also Kunjunni Raja, Indian Theories of Meaninq, op. cit., pp. 193-213.

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by a process of laksana.73 One may resort to figurative

interpretation only when forced to do so, but, in practice,

one is always forced to do so. Thus the device of figurative

interpretation is basic to all language exegesis. And, like

all Mimamsa exegetical techniques, it is guided in every case

by the need to integrate all elements of a text into a single,

uni-functional whole.

Prospectus

As we shall see, the MImamakas' teleological, goal-

oriented method of textual interpretation serves as a model

for Anandavardhana in his radical approach to the analysis and

criticism of literary texts. Anandavardhana adopts the

Mīmamsa view that any coherent text must be understood as

directed toward a single, ultimate goal; for him, all the

components of a work poetry (ranging from the individual

phonemes to the overall plot-structure) ought to be selected

and designed so as aid in the conveying of some particular

rasa.

In connection with his incorporation of the central,

teleological principle of Mīmāmsā hermeneutics into

Alamkarasastra, Anandavardhana applies many of the fundamental

interpretive concepts and devices of Mimamsa in the realm of

literary analysis. Beginning with his work, the paired terms

73Cf. Vacaspatimiśra, Tattvabindu (ed. V. Ramaswami Sastri, Annamalai University Sanskrit Series 3, 1936), pp. 131, 153 (where he quotes a statement of Kumarila to this effect), 156-7, 161; cf. also Kunjunni Raja, Indian Theories of Meaning, op. cit., pp. 218-219.

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primary and subordinate (guna/pradhana, anga/angin),

predicate and subject of predication (vidhi/anuvada), intended

and unintended meanings (vivaksita-/avivaksita- artha) become

part of the basic conceptual vocabulary of Alamkārasastra.

One of the most striking aspects of Anandavardhana's

reformulation of Alamkāraśāstra (albeit one which has drawn

little notice from modern scholars) is the sudden

transformation in the idiom of literary analysis ushered in by

his work. Anandavardhana not only introduces a new aesthetic

theory and a new approach to literary analysis, he does so in

what is, for the Alamkarikas, a new language -- that is, by and

large, the language of Mimamsa hermeneutics.

ANANDAVARDHANA' S DHVANYĀLOKA AND THE TELEOLOGY OF POETIC LANGUAGE

We have seen that growing recognition of the importance

of rasa in poetry becomes problematic for the Alamkärikas of

early ninth century Kashmir. The anomalous status of rasa in

poetic theory reaches its apex in the work of Rudrata (c.

825). Rudrata's Kāvyalamkāra presents two separate schemata

of literary aesthetics, one based on the formal analysis of

poetic language in the tradition of such earlier authors as

Bhämaha, Dandin, and Udbhata, and the other based on the

analysis of rasa (and those aspects of plot and

characterization connected with it) deriving primarily from

the tradition of Natyasastra (dramaturgy). These two modes of

analysis are presented independently, and no attempt

whatsoever is made to relate them to one another. It is in

the Dhvanyaloka of Anandavardhana that these two modes are for

the first time successfully integrated.

Anandavardhana is mentioned in Kalhana's Rajatarangini as

one of the court poets of Avantivarman of Kashmir (r. 855-

883),1 and his literary activity can thus be dated from mid

to late ninth century. His known poetic works are

Arjunacarita (a Sanskrit mahākāvya), Visamabānalila (a Prakrit

poem), and Devisataka (one hundred Sanskrit verses dedicated

1Rajataranqinī 5.34.

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120

to the goddess Durga), of which only the last is extant.2 He

was also the author Of several philosophical works: the

Tattvāloka, 3 and a commentary on Dharmottara's

Pramanaviniścayatīka. The Dhvanyaloka is his only known work

in the field of Alamkarasastra. The Dhvanyaloka consists of

a series of mnemonic verses (kārikās) with a running prose

commentary (vrtti) .4

Ānandavardhana integrates formalist and rasa-based modes

of literary analysis by viewing each literary work as a

functionally unified whole directed toward a single goal, the

conveying of a particular rasa to the readers or hearers of a

poem. Rather than attempt to treat rasa within the framework

2Published in Kavyamalagucchaka 9, Nirnayasagar Press, 1893. Interestingly, the work is a citra-kāvya ("picture poem", one which depends on complex verbal tricks for its effect), a genre which Anandavardhana himself dismisses as mere "imitation of poetry" (kāvyānukāra).

3The work is mentioned by Abhinavagupta in his commentary on the Dhvanyaloka, but little is known of its contents.

4There is a long running controversy regarding the authorship of these kārikās. Buhler, Jacobi, De and Kane, among others, contend that the verse portion of the Dhvanyaloka is a self-sufficient work (of unknown authorship), and that Anandavardhana is the author of only the prose commentary. distinction The claim is based on the terminological drawn by Abhinavagupta between karika-kara ("author of the kārikā") and vrtti-kāra ("author of the commentary") in his own commentary on the Dhvanyaloka (despite the fact that Abhinavagupta himself cites both kārika and vrtti as Anandavardhana's work in his commentary on the Natyasāstra). A detailed discussion of the arguments surrounding this issue is beyond the scope of the present work. Krishnamoorthy (Dhvanyaloka and its Critics, Kavyalaya Publishers, 1968, pp. 46-95) provides the best available survey of the controversy, and capably for Ānandavardhana's authorship of both kārika and vrtti. argues

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of alamkära-analysis, as earlier theorists had attempted to

do, he sees it as the outcome of a previously unrecognized

process of suggestion (dhvani). Although it plays a pivotal

role in all great literature, suggested meaning has, according

to Anandavardhana, been entirely overlooked by previous

theorists. He proceeds to demonstrate not only that this

suggested meaning is pervasively present in the classics of

Sanskrit and Prakrit literature, but that the entire array of

formal elements meticulously defined and described by his

predecessors becomes aesthetically effective only insofar as

it aids in the conveying of this suggested meaning.

By establishing suggested meaning generally, and rasa in

particular, as the ultimate goal of all aesthetically

effective literature, Anandavardhana departs radically from

pre-existing modes of literary analysis. Prior Ālamkārikas

approached the analysis of literary language by attempting to

isolate those discrete elements which give beauty to

particular verses or expressions, and to describe and

categorize these elements as exhaustively as possible.

Anandavardhana's teleological model of literary aesthetics

necessitates a complete re-configuration of the descriptive

categories and analytic methods of his predecessors. If

poetry is geared solely toward the communication of rasa, then

the discrete, isolable elements of poetic language described

by earlier Alamkarikas are to be employed not for any

intrinsic beauty they possess, but only for their ability to

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contribute toward this overriding goal.

In this chapter I will examine Anandavardhana's departure

from earlier modes of analysis and his attempt to revalue

existing poetic categories by integrating them into a

unifocal, rasa-centered model of literary aesthetics. His

arguments for the existence of a realm of suggested meaning

unrecognized by earlier critics, and for the treatment of rasa

as a type of suggested meaning, will be briefly surveyed. I

will then discuss his application of the Mimamsakas'

teleological approach to text-analysis in the realm of poetry,

his establishment of the communication of a single rasa as the

goal which determines the unity and aesthetic coherence of a

particular literary work, and the mechanisms by which the many

rasas existing in such a work are subordinated to a single

overriding rasa. We will consider Anandavardhana's use of

hierarchical methods of text-analysis to differentiate the

various types of suggested meaning from the alamkāras (figures

of speech) described by previous theorists. The subordination

of alamkaras and other recognized features of literary

language to the communication of rasa will then be considered

in detail.

Proof of the Existence of Dhvani ("Suggestion") in Poetry

Ānandavardhana's first order of business, as he commences

the Dhvanyaloka, is to establish that the poetic phenomena he

analyzes and shows to be central in both the production and

appreciation of great poetry are totally distinct from the

123

features of poetic language treated of by his predecessors in

the field of Alamkārasāstra. A radical departure is made from

the field as it has so far been known, and it is essential

that Anandavardhana demonstrate that the categories and

methods of previous Alamkärikas are inadequate to the kind of

analysis pursued here. He argues that the most crucial

feature of great literature is dhvani, the suggestion or

revelation of some meaning which is not directly stated, and

that this mode of expression, despite its centrality, has been

entirely overlooked by earlier poetic theorists.

In the vrtti on the first verse of the Dhvanyaloka,

Anandavardhana examines three possible arguments against the

existence of dhvani, all of them designed to uphold the

adequacy of earlier aesthetic categories. First, it may be

argued that poetics has already provided an exhaustive

characterization of the possible features of poetic language.

Poetry consists of words and their meanings. Factors which

lend beauty to these words and meanings (sabdālamkāras and

arthalamkaras, respectively) , have been defined and

illustrated. The arrangement of phonemes and words for

aesthetic effect (vrttis and gunas) and the differences of

style that depend upon them (rītis) have likewise been

thoroughly analyzed. This characterization of the linguistic

features operative in poetry is total, and there is simply no

scope for the introduction of any additional concepts such as

124

"dhvani " 5

The second argument, while closely related to the first,

attempts to preclude the possibility of dhvani on definitional

and sociological grounds. The categories outlined by the

Ālamkārikas are constitutive of poetry; anything which falls

outside their scope would be excluded by definition from the

realm of poetry. "The defining property of poetry is that it

consists of words and meanings which are pleasing to the

hearts of connoisseurs (sahrdayas). This is not possible for

any mode of composition apart from the procedures already

described (by the Ālamkarikas) ."6 The dhvani-theorist may

stipulate that only those who accept his view can truly be

called connoisseurs, but this will not render his view

acceptable to the general community of cultured persons.

The third argument would seem to follow from the first

two. "It is not possible that this dhvani could be anything

new, since anything which does not fall outside the realm of

beauty will be included in the causes of poetic beauty already

described. If, on the other hand, you are merely giving a new

name to one of these recognized causes of beauty, there is no

significance in this."7 The dhvani-theorist is placed on the

horns of a dilemma. Existing poetic categories (alamkāras,

5Dhvanyaloka [ed. Pattabhairama Sastrī, Kashi Sanskrit Series 135, Benares, 1940], pp. 16ff.

6Ibid., p. 22.

7Ibid, pp. 24-25.

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gunas, etc.), construed broadly, will encompass any feature of

sound or meaning which gives beauty to a poem. To place

dhvani outside these categories is to deprive it altogether of

aesthetic significance. To accept its inclusion within these

categories is to render it superfluous -- no more than a re-

designation of what has already be described. At best, dhvani

can be seen as a heretofore undescribed sub-type within one or

another of these categories. "Even if, given the infinite

variety of modes of expression, there is some minor type that

has not been described by the well-known definers of poetry,

we see no reason for people to dance about, saying 'Dhvani,

dhvani', closing their eyes in the false belief that they are

connoisseurs. Varieties of alamkara by the thousands. have

been and continue to be shown by great people, and we do not

hear of them behaving in this way. "8

These arguments all serve to render the formalist

paradigm of previous Alamkarikas immune to any fundamental

revision. Theoretical innovation and progress are possible,

but only at the level of detail: existing categories may be

more precisely defined, recognized figures of speech may be

analyzed into subdivisions, and so on. Any challenge to the

basic principles and methods of aesthetic analysis, however,

is summarily ruled out. This form of analysis and its object,

poetry itself, are well-known and established forms of

discourse, and anything falling outside their recognized

8Ibid, pp. 25-26.

126

confines will be of no significance for the production or

appreciation of aesthetically effective literature.

Anandavardhana's primary defense against this line of

criticism hinges on a re-examination of poetic practice.

Dhvani, it is claimed, does not emerge from the re-

interpretation of the concepts and categories of earlier

Ālamkārikas, but is concerned with a realm of poetic meaning

which, although deeply ingrained in the works of the greatest

poets, has heretofore remained totally unknown to the

"definers of poetry" (kavyalakşanavidhayinah -- the term by

which Anandavardhana generally refers to his formalist

predecessors) .

[Karikā:] That meaning, honored by connoisseurs, which is established as the soul of poetry , having is regarded as two "understood" types , "expressed" [vacya] and [pratIyamana] ... Of these two, expressed called

meaning, which is well-known, has been analyzed in many ways, by means of sub-divisions -- simile, etc. -- by others. [Vrtti:] By the definers of poetry. [Kārikā: ] Therefore it will not be dealt with extensively here. [Vrtti:] It will only be reviewed insofar as this is useful. [Kārika:] But the "understood" is a distinct element in the language of great poets, which appears separately from the well-known parts [of a poem], like beauty [lāvanya] in women.10

Prior analysts of meaning in poetry have focussed on that

'Anandavardhana's description pratIyamana artha as the "soul" of poetry has been severely of both vācya and

criticized, and created difficulties for his defenders. It is in apparent contradiction with his frequent description of dhvani alone (i.e. pratīyamana artha) as the soul of poetry. In his commentary on the passage Abhinavagupta attempts, through a convoluted interpretation, to show that here also only the pratIyamana artha is taken as the soul -- cf. below, Chapter Nine, pp. 443-444.

10Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 42ff.

127

which is directly stated -- the realm of dhvani, of suggested

meaning, has not been misunderstood by them, but has rather

remained beyond their notice.1l This point is underlined by

the analogy of female beauty. It is impossible to give a

satisfactory account of personal beauty by even the most

detailed description of physical features. There is always a

certain quality which will elude this sort of analysis.

Similarly, in poetry, the whole is greater than the sum of its

parts. The analysis and description of the formal features of

a poem, however precise, will not provide a full account of

its aesthetic effect.

Anandavardhana sets himself the task of showing that this

suggested meaning is pervasively present in the recognized

classics of Sanskrit and Prakrit literature and, furthermore,

that it is the predominant feature of these works, playing a

central role in their aesthetic effectiveness. In the light

of this task, exemplification takes on a prominence it has not

held in previous Alamkāra works. Earlier Ālamkārikas such as

Bhāmaha (occasionally), Vamana and Udbhata (in the

Bhamahavivarana) quote example verses from existing literature

rather than compose examples of their own, but these citations

are employed as illustration, rather than evidence. Given

1lThis, as we shall see, is something of an overstatement, and will be substantially qualified in Anandavardhana's subsequent analysis. The three varieties of suggested meaning recognized by Anandavardhana (vastu, alamkāra, and rasa) are all dealt with here and there by earlier alamkära-theorists. They are not, however, grouped together and recognized as constituting a separate realm of meaning, as they are here.

128

Anandavardhana's radical departure from existing categories,

the example verses he cites become vitally important for his

argument. The proof of the existence of dhvani, and thus the

overall legitimacy of this inquiry, depends upon them.

Thus, even before providing a definition of dhvani,

Ānandavardhana gives a variety of examples to establish the

existence of the realm of suggested meaning with which his

analysis will be concerned. Ānandavardhana identifies and

exemplifies three possible varieties of suggested meaning:

vastu (narrative element), alamkära (figure of speech), and

rasa (aestheticized emotion). The following Prakrit verse is

given as an example of the first variety:

Wander confidently, Monk; that dog [which frightened you] has been killed today by the lion who dwells in the creeper-bower on the banks of the GodavarI. 12

Here, a woman wishing to meet her lover in secret, fearing

that they will be interrupted, addresses a wandering

mendicant. Although the literal meaning of the sentence is a

command that the monk should wander, its actual intent is to

magnify his fear and prevent him from wandering near her

trysting place. The actual intent of her statement is thus

the opposite of its explicit intent. Therefore, the expressed

and suggested senses of the verse are clearly distinct.

Figures of speech can likewise be understood from a verse

12Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p.52. bhama dhammia visattho so sunao ajja mario dena/ golānaikacchakudangavāsinā dariasīhena// (Hala, SattasaI 2.75)

129

without being directly stated:

"Having already obtained Śri, why would he again produce in me the pain of churning? I cannot imagine for him, his mind free of lassitude, his former sleep. Why should he build a bridge again, being attended by the lords of all the islands?" The ocean, when you approach, appears to tremble, as if entertaining such doubts.13

The churning of the ocean from which Śri (the goddess who

personifies royal prosperity) emerges; sleeping afloat on the

ocean (during the time of pralaya, when the worlds are

dissolved); the construction of a bridge over the ocean to the Lanka -- are all well known feats of the god Visnu. From the

ocean's imagined doubts we understand that he mistakes the

king eulogized in the verse for Visnu, and from this we

understand a metaphorical identification (rupaka) of the king

with the god. As Visnu is not even mentioned explicitly, the

rūpaka cannot be said to be directly expressed.

The third and most important variety of suggested

meaning, rasa, differs from the first two types in that it can

never be directly expressed. In vastu- and alamkara-dhvani,

a narrative element or verbal figure which could have been

13Ibid., p. 261. Prāptaśrīr esa kasmāt punarapi mayi tam manthakhedam vidadhyā- nnidrām apy asya purvām analasamanaso naiva sambhāvayāmi/ setum badhnāti bhūyah kimiti ca sakaladvīpanāthānuyāta- stvayy ayāte vitarkān iti dadhata ivābhāti kampah payodheh// Anandavardhana does not cite an example of suggested alamkāra when proving the existence of dhvani in the first chapter, but refers the reader to a later portion of the work ("agre darsayisyate" p. referring to the extended discussion of alamkära-dhvani in chapter two (2.20-30). The 78),

verse quoted above is the first example given of alamkära- dhvani based on the power of meaning (arthasaktimula), and becomes a stock example of suggested alamkāra for later authors.

130

stated directly is expressed only by implication. Rasa,

however, constitutes a realm of "meaning" which is necessarily

suggested. For example:

Siva, his composure somewhat disturbed, like the ocean when the moon begins to rise, cast his eyes on the face of Uma [ParvatI], whose lower lip was [red and round] like a bimba-fruit.14

Here Siva's growing love for ParvatI and the srngara-rasa

which depends upon it are not explicitly mentioned. According

to the principles of dramaturgy, each rasa is conveyed by a

particular set of aesthetic factors (vibhavas, anubhavas,

vyabhicaribhavas and sthayibhava15) . In the above example,

the presence of ParvatI and the beauty of her lip are

vibhavas, Siva's gazing at her face is an anubhava, and his

loss of composure a vyabhicāribhāva, all of which, in

combination, serve to convey śrngara-rasa.

In claiming that rasa is necessarily suggested,

Anandavardhana challenges the view of Udbhata (the most

prominent of Anandavardhana's predecessors in Kashmiri

14 Tbid., p. 249. haras tu kimcitparivrttadhairyas candrodayārambha ivāmburāsih/ umāmukhe bimbaphaladharosthe vyapārayām asa vilocanāni// (Kālidāsa, Kumārasambhava 3.67)

15Vibhävas are those factors which cause an emotion in a character, either serving as the object of this emotion (in the case of love, one's beloved), or heightening it (a moonlit night, a secluded garden, etc.). Anubhävas are the visible symptoms of such an emotion. Vyabhicaribhavas are those transient emotional states which accompany a more abiding emotion (in the case of love: embarrassment, etc.). The sthayibhava is the basic emotional anxiety, expectancy,

state of the character on which the rasa is based (e.g. desire in the case of srīgara ["love"] or grief in the case of karuna ["pity"] ) .

131

Alamkārasāstra), according to whom a rasa may be conveyed in

poetry by the mention of its own name (svasabda), as well as

by the aesthetic factors appropriate to that rasa.16 It is

not invariably the case, argues Anandavardhana, that a verse

in which the name of a rasa or of the emotion it is based upon

will convey that rasa.17 Where such words are used in a

verse conveying rasa, they are invariably found to be

accompanied by the factors appropriate to that rasa. Even

without such explicit mention, the rasa will be communicated

by the same factors. It follows therefore that it is these

factors, rather than the designation of the rasa by name, that

convey this rasa, even where such designation is present.

The concept of rasa originated in the realm of dramatic

analysis, where it is seen to be conveyed not merely by the

text of a play, but by the full range of performance elements

(gesture, costume, etc.). Because Anandavardhana's concern

is with poetry, which depends on words alone for its aesthetic

effect, his analysis problematizes for the first time the

nature of rasa as a purely linguistic product. "Meaning" is

that understanding which follows from a particular set of

words. If, upon hearing or reading a passage of poetry, we

become aware of a particular rasa, this must be considered a

part of the meaning of the text, albeit one which can never be

stated explicitly.

16Kāvyālamkarasārasamgraha 4.3, ed. N.D. Banhatti, p. 52.

17Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 81ff.

132

Anandavardhana sets out to show that this rasa is

pervasively present in, and is in fact the essential

characteristic of, great poetry. He traces the centrality of

rasa to the very origin of poetry itself.

This very [suggested] meaning is the essence of poetry, although it [poetry] may be beautified through the various arrangement of words and meanings of many sorts. And thus the grief of the first poet, Valmiki, arising from the cry of a heron [krauñca] distraught through separation from its dead mate, was transformed into verse. For grief [soka] is the emotion which serves as a basis for karuna rasa [pathos]. Although other varieties of understood meaning [besides rasa] are shown [elsewhere], they are indicated here by means of rasa and bhava alone, because these are most important.18

Poetry is thus born from emotional experience. Both of the

Sanskrit epics are seen by Anandavardhana as primarily

intended to convey a single rasa.

In the Rāmayana karuna rasa has been mentioned by the Ādikavi [the '"first poet" Valmīki] himself, saying "grief became verse" [sokah ślokatvam ägatah]. And this [karuna rasa] has been carried to its fulfillment by him, constructing his work so as to end with [Rama's] final separation from Sita. Likewise in the Mahabharata, which bears the appearance of both a sastra and a kāvya, the purusartha ["human aim"] liberation and santa rasa [quiescence] have been shown as the primary things intended to be communicated by the great sage [Vyāsa], by composing a conclusion which produces despair through the distasteful end of the Pandavas and the Vrsnis [Krsna's clan], and [thereby] showing the production of vairagya [dispassion, the emotion on which santa rasa is based] to be the primary intent of his composition.19

In order to establish rasa as a variety of meaning, it is

necessary to demonstrate that it exists as something distinct

from the expressed meaning which gives rise to it. Although

18Ibid., pp. 87-90.

19Ibid., pp. 529-30.

133

the precise mechanism by which rasa is conveyed to an audience

is a major focus of dispute in the tradition of Natyasastra,

it is universally agreed that the rasa experience depends on

the presentation (visually or verbally) Of vibhavas,

anubhāvas, and vyabhicāribhāvas. 20

Some would argue that rasa is not itself a variety of

meaning, but is a property of expressed meanings which convey

the proper vibhavas, etc. "The expressed meaning appears as

consisting of rasa, etc.21, not as something separate along

with rasa, etc. #22 If this were the case, Ānandavardhana

retorts, then the rasa conveyed by a verse would be apparent

to all who understand its expressed meaning. He resorts to a

visual analogy: a white body appears as consisting of

whiteness. One cannot see the body without seeing its

whiteness. However, in poetry, this is not the case. The

appreciation of rasa requires an aesthetic sensitivity

(sahrdayatva) not common to all people, and may not be

possible even for one who understands the literal meaning of

a verse. The opponent counters with a further analogy:

genuineness is a property of gemstones, but one that is

20In accord with Bharata's dictum: vibhāvānubhāva- vyabhicarisamyogad rasanispattih (Gaekwad Oriental Series 36, Vol. I, p. 272) .

21The "etc." is meant to include bhava, rasabhasa and bhavabhasa, rasaprasama and bhavaprasama, those rasa-like or rasa-based features employed by Udbhata to explain the alamkāras preyasvat (Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha 4.2), ūrjasvin (4.5), and samahita (4.7) -- ct. above, Chapter Two, pp. 52-58.

22Ibid., p. 402.

134

apparent only to specially trained perceivers. Likewise, rasa

may be a property of the expressed meaning of a poem which is

apparent only to the cultivated listener.

In the opponent's example, says Anandavardhana, the

genuineness of the gem does not appear as anything apart from

its nature. This analogy does not hold for rasa, which is

apprehended as something separate from the vibhāvas,

anubhavas, and vyabhicaribhavas which give rise to it.

For no one believes that the vibhavas, anubhavas, and vyabhicaribhavas themselves are rasas Therefore awareness of rasa, etc. is invariably connected with [but not identical with] awareness of the vibhavas, etc. Because these two awarenesses are established as effect and cause, sequence must necessarily exist between them, but this is not apparent, because of its brevity. Thus it has been said [in 2.3] that rasas, etc. are suggested without apparent sequence.23

It is this rapid succession between the expressed meaning and

the rasa derived from it which leads to the misapprehension.

that there is no distinction between them. The separate

existence of rasa is confirmed, however, by the fact that it

may be conveyed even by wordless songs or gestures, where

there is no expressed meaning whatsoever.24

In the case of other types of dhvani, such as the example

of vastu-dhvani quoted above ("Wander confidently ... " ), the

23Ibid., p. 404. There is no reason to suppose, as Ingalls (The Dhvanyaloka of Anandavardhana, p. 540) and the editors of the Kashi text do, that the words "ity alaksyakrama eva santo vyangyā rasādayah" are a citation from some earlier work; they appear to be nothing more than a parapharase of Anandavardhana's own earlier remarks.

24Ibid., p. 417.

135

suggested meaning contradicts the literal sense of the verse,

and the succession between the two is easily apparent. As

Abhinavagupta rightly points out, it was for precisely this

reason that this type of dhvani was considered first, as the

distinctness of the two meanings cannot be questioned in such

an instance.25 In the case of rasa-dhvani, however, the

second meaning does not displace the first, and hence the

distinction between the two may not be immediately noticeable.

The case for this unnoticed succession is bolstered by analogy

with more commonplace modes of verbal comprehension: "Just as

word meaning, conveying a sentence meaning by its own

capacity, is not separately perceived when it has fulfilled

its function ... Likewise, this suggested meaning appears

immediately in the truly-seeing [tattvärthadarsini] minds of

the aesthetically sensitive, who turn their attention from the

directly expressed meaning. #26 Communication takes place

through sentence meaning, and the meanings of individual words

are merely a means through which such meaning is conveyed.

When the sentence is understood, they have no further role to

perform, and are no longer perceived as distinct from their

product. Likewise, the expressed meaning which conveys rasa

is only a means to this end. The minds of aesthetically

competent listeners (or readers) will proceed rapidly to the

appreciation of the suggested rasa, and the expressed meanings

25Ibid., p. 53.

26Ibid., pp. 101-2.

136

which convey this rasa will no longer be apparent as something

distinct.

As we have already seen, this notion of aesthetic

competence plays an important role in Anandavardhana's

understanding of poetry. Previous theorists devoted

considerable attention to the qualifications required for the

composition of poetry, but Anandavardhana is the first to

seriously examine the requirements for the audience of poetry.

His term for the aesthetically competent audience member is

sahrdaya (literally, "having the same heart" -- i.e. capable of

sharing the aesthetic experience crafted by the poet). The

word is employed by Vamana27 and Udbhata28 in the general

sense of a cultured or sensitive listener, and was therefore

in current use well before Anandavardhana's time. However,

the existence of a select group of qualified listeners and the

nature of these qualifications assume an unprecedented

importance in the Dhvanyaloka.

One of the proofs given for a separate realm of suggested

meaning in poetry is the existence of a select group capable

of appreciating it fully. If poetry depended only on direct

expression for its effect, then anyone sufficiently acquainted

with the rules of language and the meanings of words would be

capable of understanding poetry. But, mere study of grammar

27cf. Kavyalamkārasūtravrtti, Kashi Sanskrit Series 209, fourth ed., 1989, p. 25

28cf. Gnoli ed., Udbhata's Commentary on Bhamaha, Istituto Italian per il Media ed Estremo Oriente, 1962, pp. 20, 39.

137

and dictionaries is not adequate to provide a student with the

capacity to appreciate poetry.29 If it were, the entire

enterprise of Alamkarasastra would clearly be unnecessary.

The fact that such training is inadequate makes it clear that

there must be something to be known from poetry other than

words and the meanings they directly express, and this

something is nothing other than suggested meaning.

There is a certain circularity involved in this notion:

only those capable of understanding suggested meaning are

admitted as an aesthetically competent audience for poetry,

while the existence of such a community is cited as evidence

for the existence of suggested meaning. Ānandavardhana is

alive to the possibility that this attempt to delineate a

distinct class of sahrdayas will be seen as arbitrary. The

second of the three arguments against the existence of dhvani

discussed above makes just such a charge. In attempting to

show that this group of sahrdayas is more than an arbitrarily

stipulated subset of the community of cultured persons,

Anandavardhana describes and attacks a rival conception of

both dhvani and sahrdaya.

"The term dhvani is applied to that poem in which an indefinable beauty of certain words and meanings appears, understood in dependence on some special quality of the perceiver, like the genuineness of certain gems. " -- This definition of dhvani which someone has given is incorrect and should not be so stated.30

29Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 93.

30Tbid., pp. 517-18.

138

If this indefinability (anakhyeyatva) of dhvani is

accepted, there will be no way to escape the charge of

arbitrariness. The fact that certain features of both gems

and poetry are apparent only to a class of specialists does

not in and of itself establish that these features are

indefinable. Gems are recognized and their value appraised

through the recognition and analysis of certain repeatable

properties (samanya). Similarly, the words and meanings of a

poem can be analyzed in terms of such properties. Apart from

ease of articulation (aklistatva) and clarity, the only

property such words and meanings possess relevant to poetic

appreciation is their capacity to convey a further suggested

meaning. These properties can be and have been defined and

analyzed. In effect, the entire Dhvanyaloka stands as a

refutation of the view that dhvani is indefinable. "If, even

when general and specific definitions of dhvani have been

given in the manner already stated and to be stated

subsequently, dhvani is said to be indefinable, then this

indefinability would apply to all entities. "31 Ānandavardhana

thus strenuously resists any mystification of the concept of

dhvani, or of the sahrdaya who is defined by his ability to

recognize it.

Elsewhere an effort is made to show that sensitivity to

those suggested meanings described in the Dhvanyaloka,

particularly to rasa, provides the only non-arbitrary standard

31Ibid., p. 163.

139

by which we can identify a class of listeners as sahrdayas.

It is accepted by earlier Ālamkärikas that certain words are

more "beautiful" than their synonyms and consequently should

be preferred by poets.32 This "beauty" is nothing other than

the capacity of these words to suggest rasa. If words such as

srak ("garland" ) and candana ("sandal-paste"), typically

employed in passages conveying srngara-rasa (love), appear as

particularly beautiful even when srngara-rasa is not present,

this can only be a residual effect of their having been seen

many times previously in the context of srīgara. "Otherwise,

given that they express the same meaning, what difference

could there be among these words with respect to their

beauty?"33 To this point an objection is raised: This beauty

could depend on some other (unspecified) property

apprehensible only to sahrdayas. Anandavardhana retorts: What

then does it mean to be a sahrdaya? Is a sahrdaya merely one

familiar with the conventions of poetic usage, or one capable

of apprehending the rasa conveyed by a work? In the first

instance, the class of sahrdayas is arbitrarily determined; it

would be quite possible for others to write and appreciate

poetry governed by contrary conventions, and to call

themselves "sahrdayas" with as much justification. If we

accept the latter view, that to understand rasa is to be a

32Tbid., pp. 358ff. Abhinavagupta identifies the source of this view as Udbhata's Bhamahavivarana, but I can find no trace of it in the extant fragments of this text.

33Tbid., p. 359.

140

sahrdaya, we provide a fixed and intelligible standard for the

aesthetic competence of the audience. Sahrdayas do find

certain words more beautiful than their synonyms, not

arbitrarily, but for a sound reason: that they more

effectively foster the experience of a particular rasa.

Anandavardhana's analysis of poetry thus places not suggested

meaning in general, but rasa in particular at the very heart

of the aesthetic experience.

The Unifocality of Poetry and the Centrality of Rasa

It is in this centrality of rasa, and the explanation and

evaluation of all other features of poetic language as

subordinate to it, that we can most clearly see

Anandavardhana's deployment of Mimamsa interpretive categories

and techniques in the realm of aesthetic analysis. We have

seen that, for the Mimämsakas, the prerequisite of linguistic

coherence at the level of either sentence or of higher order

units of discourse is unifocality -- orientation toward a

single overriding purpose. In the case of the Vedic texts

which are the Mimamsakas' chief concern, this purpose is

sabda-bhavana or niyoga, that potency of the Vedic injunction

which impels a qualified sacrificer to undertake a particular

ritual act. Every sentence, every word of the Vedic text

must, in one way or another, assist this injunction,

specifying materials or procedures for the act enjoined,

motivating the sacrificer through communicating the

transcendental results to be obtained, etc. Any

141

interpretation of a Vedic text which renders a portion of it

unconnected with this goal, and hence useless, is summarily

rejected.

By establishing, for the first time in the history of

Sanskrit literary theory, a unitary purpose around which all

elements of a poem are seen to be organized, Anandavardhana

makes it possible to apply elements of the Mīmāmsakas'

technique of Vedic interpretation in the analysis of

literature. While previous Ālamkārikas (e.g. Udbhata and

Vamana) on a few occasions draw on the concepts and

terminology of linguistic philosophy (chiefly grammar and

Mīmamsa) in explaining the role of non-literal meaning in

various alamkaras, these forays into the theory of non-

literary language are for the most part incidental and do not

play a major role in the aesthetic theory of these authors.

Anandavardhana's importation of Mimamsa concepts and methods

into the realm of literary analysis is central to his

theoretical project and to his critique of earlier aesthetic

theory, and initiates an encounter of unprecedented depth

between Ālamkarasastra and general linguistic theory, one

which, as we shall see, exerted a decisive influence on the

development of literary thought in Kashmir over the next three

centuries.

There is, nevertheless, a crucial difference between the

two types of text dealt with in Mimamsa and Ālamkārasastra in

that the Veda, for the Mimamsakas, is infallibly correct and

142

uniformly useful. There is no question of evaluating or

criticizing the wording or organization of the Veda. The Veda

is what it is (and has always been so), and there is no author

who can be criticized for any apparent problems in its

construction. As Śabara observes (in his Bhasya on

Mimamsasutra 3.1.13), the role of Mimamsa is not to consider

what the Veda should or should not say, but to consider, given

that it says what it does, what meaning we should understand

from it.34

Poetry, on the other hand, is the product of fallible

human authors, and its unifocality is not a presumed reality

which the Alamkarika must discover, but rather an ideal

against which poems are to be measured. The direction of all

elements of a poem toward the communication of a single rasa

is, Ānandavardhana would argue, generally found in the work of

those poets recognized as truly great. We have already seen

that showing the centrality of rasa in acknowledged classics,

particularly in the Rāmayana and Mahabharata, plays an

important role for Anandavardhana in justifying his overall

approach to literary analysis. Even in such works, however,

this unity of focus and intent is not a necessary feature.

The greatest of poets may sometimes go astray. What

Anandavardhana's application of the standard of unifocality to

poetry provides is a general evaluative criterion for literary

34Mīmāmsādarsana, Ānandāśrama Sanskrit Series 97, second ed., 1972, Vol. 4, p. 94.

143

criticism. If it is accepted that the production of rasa is

the definitive, overriding goal of literary works, this will

allow the critic to discuss the fitness of various recognized

formal features of these works (alamkaras, gunas, etc.) to

their particular contexts.

Anandavardhana expressly declares that the primary intent

of his work is to establish the centrality of rasa.

Being primarily intent upon suggested meaning consisting of rasa, etc. is the only appropriate attitude for these [poets] . It is for this reason [i.e. in order to show this] that we began our effort, not merely out of a desire to explain dhvani.35

Rasa, by itself, is sufficient to ensure the beauty of a poem,

even in the absence of other "beautifying" features, such as

alamkāras. 36 It is in fact a necessary condition for all

good poetry.

Rasas, etc. are the primary objects of the activity of good poets. They should always be introduced into their compositions by poets who are not careless [apramādin]. A composition devoid of rasa is a great failure of language [apasabda] for a poet: by this he would be no poet at all, and his name will be forgotten by others. A wise person should not reject this method, relying on [the practice of] earlier poets of unfettered speech who have won fame; the principles we have shown are not foreign to the intentions of those famous master-poets, Vālmīki and Vyasa foremost among them.37

The requirement that rasa play a primary role in literary

works is not merely an arbitrary stipulation, but rather one

that is derived from study of recognized classics. It is

35Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 363-4.

36 Tbid., p. 534.

37Tbid., pp. 364-5.

144

their capacity to convey rasa that makes the works of great

poets great. The prescriptive rules laid down for

contemporary poets are based upon a descriptive account of

those who have gone before.

In isolating a particular feature of language as

necessary and sufficient for poetic beauty and relegating

others to a contingent status, Anandavardhana is not on

entirely new ground. This is basically the approach taken by ound. Vämana in his attempt to establish riti (style) as the primary

determinant of beauty in a poem and to marginalize alamkāras

by comparison.

1.2.6 Riti is the soul of poetry. 1.2.7 Riti is a specialized arrangement of words. 1.2.8 Its speciality consists of gunas ["qualities"] .38

3.1.1 Gunas are those properties which produce poetic beauty [kavyasobhā] . [Vrtti:] Those properties of word and meaning which produce poetic beauty are gunas. They are strength [ojas], clarity [prasāda], etc., but not [alamkāras such as] rhyme [yamaka], simile [upamā], etc., since these do not by themselves produce poetic beauty. But strength, clarity, etc. do produce poetic beauty by themselves. 3.1.2 Alamkāras are intensification of that [poetic beauty] those features which cause an

3.1.3 The first of these are essential [nitya]. [Vrtti:] The first of these, i.e. gunas, are essential, since poetic beauty would not be possible without them.39

Gunas and ritis are, for Vamana, necessary in all poetry,

while alamkāras may be optionally included or omitted.

Anandavardhana stresses the necessity of rasa, and he

38Vāmana, Kāvyālamkārasutra, Kashi Sanskrit Series 209, pp. 14-15.

39Ibid., pp. 82-84.

145

describes dhvani as the soul of poetry (1.1)40 and rasa as

the soul of dhvani (2.3).41 Much has been made of the fact

that both apply the term "soul" (atman) to the element they

regard as essential in poetry, thus extending the root

metaphor of Alamkarasāstra, that of body and ornament

(alamkāra) 42

But these similarities mask major differences in the role

this notion of "soul" plays in the aesthetic analyses of the

two authors. By designating rīti as "soul", Vamana sets it

apart from alamkaras and marks it as something of special

importance, but this in itself tells us nothing about the

functional relationship, if any, between rīti and alamkāra.

There is no indication of ways in which particular alamkāras

in particular circumstances help or hinder the operation of

rīti. A certain class of formal elements -- the phonetic,

syntactic, and semantic features that distinguish one "style"

from another -- are ascribed a fundamental role in making

poetry beautiful, but these features do not provide any

overall criterion by which one can evaluate the interaction of

these central elements with poetic features of secondary

40Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 9.

41Ibid., p. 175.

42Cf. for example Kane, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 380ff., and De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., pp. 90, 102ff. Both see Vamana's riti theory, because of his mention of an "atman" of poetry, as a precursor of Anandavardhana's dhvani, and consequently as an advance over

Udbhata) . the thinking of the "Alamkara School" (i.e. Bhamaha and

146

importance. The most crucial departure from prior aesthetic

thinking in Anandavardhana's work is the attempt to provide

just such a criterion.

Thus, rasa is established as the telos of poetry, the

defining and overriding goal toward which all its elements,

from its individual phonemes to its overall plot structure,

are directed. This teleological model demands that every

composition, from a single verse to a mahakāvya, must be

directed toward the effective communication of a single

predominant rasa. In this, Anandavardhana departs

dramatically even from those earlier writers who stressed the

importance of rasa in drama and poetry. Bharata (6.119),

Bhamaha (1.21), Dandin (1.18), and Rudrata (12.2) all

prescribe the introduction of multiple rasas in a composition.

For these earlier writers, given the desirability of rasa, the

more rasas one can introduce into one's work, the better.

Although Anandavardhana accepts the possibility of

multiple rasas in a text, he insists that one and only one

rasa must serve as the overriding goal of a work.

Although it is well known that various rasas are introduced in poetic compositions, one rasa should be made superordinate [angin] by poet who wishes excellence for these [his compositions].43

If multiple rasas are fully developed in a text, how can we

say that one is superordinate and the others subordinate? One

test for the primacy of a rasa within a work is its

43Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 378.

147

persistence. An analogy is drawn with the rules of plot

structure outlined by Bharata in the Natyasastra. The plot of

a drama, for Bharata, must move toward a single goal (kārya).

The stages of plot development outlined in the Natyasastra

proceed toward and culminate in the hero's achievement of his

aim.

The action of causes toward reaching the final result to be achieved has five sequential stages which should be recognized [prārambha] by producers of dramas: the [prayatna] inception effort the possibility of attainment [präpteh sambhava], the certain attainment of the result [niyataphalaprapti], and reaching the result [phalayoga] as the fifth. (19.7-8) 44

While various types of subplot (patāka, prakari, etc.) are to

be introduced in a drama, this movement toward an overriding

goal characterizes the drama as a whole. Similarly, says

Anandavardhana, the main rasa will pervade an entire poetic

composition through persistent and frequent recurrence.45

Rasas other than the primary, when they are introduced,

should not be fully developed or extensively dwelt upon. This

lack of development, it must be stressed, is only relative to

the primary rasa. It is not that secondary rasas should not

be clearly communicated through their appropriate vibhāvas,

etc., but rather that this communication should not be so

frequent or so intense as to overshadow the primary rasa.

If the entire composition has a single, primary rasa as

44Nātyasāstra, Parimal Sanskrit Publications, 1983, Vol. III, p. 6. Series #4, Parimal

45Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 378ff.

148

its goal, why is there any need for secondary rasas at all?

What assistance can the introduction of these secondary rasas

give to the primary? First of all, there is the danger that

a single rasa, if incessantly dwelt upon, will lose its impact

upon the audience. "A rasa which has been experienced and

reached full development through its own set of causes,

reflected on again and again, becomes like a wilted

flower. #46 A certain amount of variety is essential; to

focus continually upon the main rasa will not heighten but

rather impair its effectiveness.

One rasa may subserve another in ways more direct than

this provision of a necessary degree of variety, however.

Even rasas which are contradictory, such as heroism (vira) and

fear (bhayanaka) or love (śrīgara) and quiescence (santa), may

serve to augment or intensify one another. Rasas which

conflict with the primary rasa, or the vibhavas, anubhavas

and vyabhicāribhāvas associated with them, may be

successfully introduced provided that they are either blocked

by or subordinate to this primary rasa.47 If conflicting

emotional states in a character are blocked, that is overcome,

by a single, overriding emotion, this emotion and the rasa

which is based upon it, will thereby be heightened. For

example:

How great is the disparity between this lunar dynasty [of

46Ibid., p. 364.

47Ibid., pp. 365ff.

149

minel and any offense !... Would that I could see her again ... My education has been such as to remove any flaws ... Even when she's angry, her face is beautiful !... What will wise people, free of sin, say about this ?... Even in dreams, she is unattainable ... Be firm, my heart !... What lucky youth will taste her lip?48

The source of the verse is disputed by later authors, but in

any case it depicts the internal conflict in some king of the

lunar dynasty (probably Yayäti) upon seeing and falling in

love with a woman he cannot legitimately obtain (in Yayati's

case, because the woman, Devayani, is a brahman). Here, the

king's anxiety and self-restraint are in conflict with his

love, and are overcome by it. The fact that these secondary

emotions are overwhelmed by the speaker's desire for the woman

serves precisely to emphasize the intensity of his love, and

thus heightens the srngara-rasa conveyed by the verse.

Even where they are not overcome in this way, additional

rasas which conflict with the primary rasa may be introduced

provided they are subordinated to it. This subordination may

be either natural (svābhāvikī) or imposed by the poet

(samäropita). The following is given as an example of natural

subordination.

Confusion, despondency, downheartedness, fainting, stupefaction, darkness, bodily weakness, and death: the water/poison [visa] born of the cloud-serpents forcibly

48Ibid., pp. 367. kvākaryah śaśalaksmanah kva ca kulam bhūyo 'pi dršyeta sā dosānām prasamāya me śrutam aho kope 'pi kāntam mukham/ kim vaksyanty apakalmāsāh krtadhiyah svapne 'pi sā durlabhā cetah' svasthyam upaihi kah khalu yuvā dhanyo 'dharam pāsyati//

150

brings these to women separated from their lovers.49

Such states, more typically evocative of karuna-rasa (pathos),

are thought to actually occur in separated lovers during the

rainy season (a period when feelings of love and longing are

believed to become more intense), and their subordination to

the communication of vipralambha-srīgara (love in separation)

is thus natural.

Imposed subordination is as follows:

His beloved, having bound him firmly in anger with the fetter of her soft, tremulous, creeper-arm, having led him to the bed-chamber, before her troop of friends, making known his misdeed with sweet and trembling speech, saying "Never again", weeping, struck the lucky man as he laughed, intending to deny it. 50

The metaphorical identification of the woman's arm with a

fetter, and the punning use of the verbal root Vhan (meaning

both "strike" and "kill"), suggest that the man is like a

prisoner being brought for execution. This would tend to

evoke raudra-rasa (fury), which has anger as its basic

emotion. The anger and jealousy found in a lovers' quarrel,

however, are ordinarily seen as manifestations of love rather

than fury, and the overall rasa of the verse is vipralambha-

49Ibid., p. 368. bhramim aratim alasahrdayatām pralayam mūrcchām tamah sarīrasādam/ maranam ca jaladabhujagajam prasahya kurute visam viyoginīnām//

50Ibid., pp. 232 and 368. kopāt komalalolabāhulatikāpāsena baddhvā drdham nītvā vāsaniketanam dayitaya sāyam sakhīnam purah/ bhūyo naivam iti skhalatkalagirā samsūcya duścestitam dhanyo hanyata eva nihnutiparah preyan rudatya hasan// (Amaruśataka 9)

151

śrīgāra (love in separation). The factors suggestive of

raudra-rasa have no real basis in the situation described, and

are introduced only by the poet's use of metaphor and punning.

Hence, their subordination to śrīgära in this verse is imposed

rather than natural.

The co-occurrence of apparently contradictory rasas may

also be justified by resort to the analysis of verse meaning

into vidhi (predicate) and anuvada (subject of predication).

This mode of interpretation is, as we have seen, the very

cornerstone in the Mimamsa technique of discourse analysis.51

The introduction of conflicting rasas, provided both are part

of the anuvada of a verse, will not be problematic. For

example:

Thrown off, when clinging to their hands; struck forcefully, when clinging to their garments; pushed away, when grasping their hair; unnoticed, through their agitation, when fallen at their feet; rejected by the women of the Triple City, their lotus eyes full of tears, when embracing them; may that arrow-fire of Siva, like a lover who has just given offense, burn away your sins. 52

Here, the comparison of the fire burning the women of the

Triple City with a rejected lover produces a combination of

karuna-rasa (pathos) and vipralambha-śrīgāra (love in

separation). These two rasas would normally contradict one

51Cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 85ff.

52Tbid., pp. 195-6, 369ff ksipto hastāvalagnah prasabham abhihato 'py adadāno 'mšukāntam grhnan kesesv apastas carananipatito neksitah sambhramena/ alingan yo 'vadhutas tripurayuvatibhih sasrunetrotpalabhih kāmīvārdrāparādhah sa dahatu duritam sāmbhavo vah sarāgnih// (Amaruśaťaka 2)

152

another, but here, because both are subordinated to some

further meaning, this contradiction is without consequence.

The overall purpose of the verse is not to provoke pity

for the womens' suffering, but rather to emphasize the

overwhelming power of Śiva. It is this, therefore, which is

predicated (vidheya) by the poet. The karuna-rasa and the

vipralambha-srngära conveyed by the verse are both significant

only in relation to this primary sense, and are therefore

considered anuvada -- that in relation to which something else

is predicated. Contradiction occurring in the anuvāda portion

of a sentence is acceptable, as in the following verse:

"Come! Go! Sit down! Stand up! Speak! Keep quiet!" -- Rich people play in this way with supplicants caught in the grip of their hopes.53

These contradictory commands all serve to show the

capriciousness of the rich toward their dependents, which is

predicated in this verse. Likewise, both rasas in the verse

we are considering ("Thrown off, when clinging to their

hands. .. ) are subordinate to the demonstration of the

overwhelming power of iva, which is the overall purport of

the verse.

If it is accepted that rasa can be the meaning of a

sentence, then one cannot argue that the categories of vidhi

and anuvada are inapplicable to rasas.54 If these categories

53Ibid., p. 371. ehi gaccha patottistha vada maunam samācara/ evam asagrahagrastaih krīdanti dhanino 'rthibhih//

54Ibid., pp. 372ff.

153

are applied to the expressed meanings of sentences, then they

must apply equally to any suggested meanings that arise from

these expressed meanings, rasas included. Even if one does

not accept that rasa can be the direct meaning of a verse

(sāksātkāvyartha), one must at least admit that it is

occasioned by this meaning. On this view, rasas occasioned by

the anuvada portions of a verse will be anuvada, those

occasioned by the vidhi portion, vidhi. In the example given

above ("Thrown off, when clinging to their hands ... "), the

benediction ("May the arrow-fire of Siva ... burn away your

sins") forms the vidhi of the verse. The punning comparison

of the fire with a rejected lover and the description of its

burning the women of the Triple City supports this benediction

by emphasizing the power of this fire, so this portion of the

verse, along with the vipralambha-srīgara- and karuna-rasa

suggested by it, are regarded as anuvada.

Contradictory rasas may sometimes subserve one another

through their occurrence in separate characters. The

depiction of fear in a hero's opponents will intensify the

vIra-rasa (heroism) which his deeds convey to the audience.55

Likewise, depicting the pitiable sufferings of a king's

defeated enemies, and of their wives and other dependents,

will heighten the audience's impression of the king's power

and the vira-rasa which depends upon it. For example:

"Why do you laugh? Seeing me again after so long will

55Ibid., pp. 386-7.

154

you not come to me? Pitiless man! Why this addiction to travel? Who has drawn you away?" Speaking thus in their dreams, firmly embracing the necks of their lovers, the women of your enemies, wake, weep loudly, [finding that] the circle of their arms is empty.56 as they

Such verses, elaborately and often sadistically portraying the

sufferings of enemy women after their husbands have been

defeated or slain, constitute a rather substantial genre of

Sanskrit muktakas (single verses which do not form a part of

any larger work). In such cases the karuna-rasa evoked by the

situation of the women will be subordinate to the overall

object of the verse, the praise of the king's skill and power

in the destruction of his enemies.

Even where karuna-rasa is the main meaning of a sentence

(vākyarthībhūta), factors evocative of śrīgāra may be

introduced in such a way as to heighten this primary rasa,

rather than detract from it. For example:

This is that hand that pulled at my belt, that pressed my swelling breast, that touched my navel and thighs and buttocks, that loosened the knot of my garment.57

The verse is from the Striparva of the Mahabharata, in which

the Pandava and Kaurava women mourn the slain heroes and the

funeral rites are performed for them. It is spoken by the

56Ibid., p. 193. kim hāsyena na me prayāsyasi punah prāptaś cirād darśanam keyam niskaruna pravāsarucitā kenāsi durīkrtah/ svapnāntesv iti te vadan priyatamavyāsaktakanthagraho buddhvā roditi riktabāhuvalayas tāram ripustrījanah// (Subhasitaval 2570)

57Ibid., p. 377. ayam sa rasanotkarsī pīnastanavimardanah/ nābhyūrujaghanasparsī nīvīvisramsanah karah// (Mahabharata 11.24.17)

155

wife of Bhurisravas, one of the heroes slain in the Bharata

war, upon finding his severed arm on the battlefield. Her

erotic recollections serve only to intensify her grief at the

death and mutilation of her husband, and thus heighten the

karuna-rasa of the verse and the passage that contains it.

Thus, through careful analysis of a wide variety of

examples, Ānandavardhana endeavors to show that the

subservience of various, sometimes contradictory, rasas to a

single primary rasa is already well established in poetic

practice. He prescribes the centrality of a single rasa as a

crucial feature of a poetic work, but makes every effort to

ground this prescription in a detailed descriptive account of

existing literary works.

Having concluded this intensive and sophisticated

analysis of the interrelation and unifocality of multiple

rasas however, Ānandavardhana makes a significant

qualification of this teleological principle of analysis:58

the factors (vibhavas, etc.) which convey srngara-rasa are,

generally speaking, pleasing, and may be introduced anywhere,

even when they conflict with the main rasa, either to interest

those to be instructed by a poem (vineyas)59, or simply to

58Ibid., pp. 397ff.

59Although it is generally acknowledged that poetry may provide moral instruction to its listeners, this function of poetry receives little Alamkarikas, who are more concerned with poetry's unique and explicit attention from most

definitive function, that of producing pleasure in an audience. Anandavardhana deals with the question nowhere apart from the offhand reference we are now considering.

156

make the poem more beautiful. For example:

True, beautiful women are pleasing; true, wealth is enjoyable; but life is unstable, like the wandering sidelong glance of a drunken woman.60

The main rasa of the verse is santa (quiescence), but the

sidelong glance is suggestive of śrīgara. There is no

apparent functional relationship between the two rasas here,

and by the standards Anandavardhana articulated earlier, the

introduction of elements of śrīgāra would be pronounced

defective, being not only irrelevant but in fact contradictory

to the santa-rasa which is primarily intended by the verse

(given that santa-rasa has as its emotional basis the

cessation of all desires). Anandavardhana accepts, however,

that such comparisons add to, rather than detract from, the

beauty of this and similar verses, and makes a special

dispensation ..

We shall see that this is not the only case in which

Anandavardhana resists the implications of his own model of

aesthetic effectiveness. There are elements of literary and

genre convention which are not explicable in terms of, and

even conflict with, Anandavardhana's general aesthetic

criterion, but which he is nevertheless unwilling to dismiss

Later Kashmiri authors such as Abhinavagupta and Kuntaka discuss the matter in somewhat more detail, but it remains essentially marginal to the central concerns of Kashmiri Alamkāraśāstra.

60 Tbid., p. 399. satyam manorama ramah satyam ramya vibhutayah/ kimtu mattanganapangabhangalolam hi jīvitam/7 (Subhāsitaratnakośa 1608)

157

as irrelevant to the composition of good poetry (cf. below,

Chapter Six, pp. 292-300) .

The Differentiation of Dhvani from Alamkāra

The introduction of the concepts of sub- and

superordination enables Anandavardhana to differentiate the

phenomena he designates by the term dhvani from those dealt

with by earlier Alamkärikas in their efforts to explain the

role of non-literal meanings (including rasa, although this

was not discussed as type of "meaning" before

Anandavardhana). Although these Alamkarikas, in describing

figures of speech which cause us to understand a fact or

another figure not explicitly stated, or which communicate a

particular rasa or rasa-like experience to an audience, were,

without realizing it, dealing with all three varieties of

suggested meaning, their analysis, according to

Anandavardhana, remains steadfastly focussed on the expressed

meaning even when treating such figures, and in the examples

they provide for such figures the suggested meaning is almost

invariably subordinate to the expressed.61

Ānandavardhana argues that alamkaras must, by definition,

be dependent and of only secondary importance. The root-

metaphor of Alamkārasāstra, as its name would suggest, is that

of physical ornamentation. The words and meanings of a poem

are regarded as its "body" (sarira), and the alamkāras are

ornaments which beautify it, as bracelets and other ornaments

61Ibid., pp. 108ff.

158

beautify a body. An ornament must invariably ornament

something, and is thus inherently other-directed. This fact

alone excludes the alamkaras from the realm of dhvani.

Anandavardhana defines dhvani as follows:

That type of poetry in which either a meaning or a word, subordinating itself or its own meaning [respectively], suggests that [non-expressed] meaning is called "dhvani" by wise people. 62

The expression "subordinating itself or its own meaning" is,

as Anandavardhana himself explicitly points out,63 intended

precisely to exclude alamkāras which incorporate some

suggested sense from the realm of dhvani.

Thus the root-metaphor of Alamkarasastra, that of

ornamentation, plays a major role in Anandavardhana's

demonstration of the inadequacy of his predecessors' theories

and defense of his radical departure from them. The

differentiation, analysis, and illustration of the various

alamkaras had been a primary focus of attention for all

previous Alamkārikas, even those (i.e. Vamana and Rudrata) who

had given prominence to other concepts (guna and rasa,

respectively) in their analyses. By claiming that alamkāras

are, necessarily and by definition, of only secondary

importance, Anandavardhana breaks decisively with literary

theory as it has so far existed in India.

In Ānandavardhana's teleological, MImamsa-derived mode of

62Ibid., p. 103.

63Tbid., p. 108.

159

text interpretation, the relative predominance among the

verbal and semantic elements of a verse and the hierarchical

relations between these elements are the primary focus of

analysis. By contrast, earlier Ālamkārikas devote themselves

primarily to the definition and categorization of these

isolable elements without regard to the functional

relationships between them in particular contexts.

Consequently they show no interest in the primacy or

subordination of the non-literal meanings found in the

alamkāras they describe. Ānandavardhana's claim that their

concern is solely with subordinate suggestion (rather than

with genuine cases of dhvani, in which the suggested meaning

predominates) rests on two pillars: the term "alamkāra" itself

(which is taken to imply subordination), and the examples they

provide for their alamkaras, in which, he claims, the

expressed meaning is generally, if not invariably,

predominant.

In order to make such an argument, of course, it is

necessary to articulate some criteria on the basis of which we

can distinguish a predominant meaning from a subordinate one.

Anandavardhana employs two such criteria, neither entirely

unambiguous or unproblematic. The first is what he calls

"being the [overall] meaning of a sentence" (vakyarthibhava or

vakyarthatva). The term is nowhere defined or explained, and

we must examine its application to get some idea of the sense

in which Anandavardhana employs it.

160

The following verse is given as an example of the

alamkāra samāsokti ("condensed expression" -- in which the

explicit subject of a verse is described in terms equally

applicable to a second, unstated, subject) .

The moon, becoming red/passionate, touched the face of night, with its twinkling stars/trembling eyes, so that her [i.e. the night's] cloak of darkness was condensed/bunched up [samasta] and fell away in the east/in front, unnoticed by her, because of her own redness/passion.4

The literal sense of the verse is simply a natural description

of redness of the rising full moon and the reddening of the

surrounding night sky. But, through punning use of the word

raga (redness/passion), the adjectives applied to the moon and

the night are constructed so that they would apply equally

well to a pair of lovers.

Anandavardhana's comment on the verse is as follows: "In

cases such as this the expressed meaning is understood to be

predominant and is only accompanied by a suggested meaning,

since the night and the moon alone -- on which the behavior of

female and male protagonists have been superimposed -- are the

meaning of the sentence. "65 Here the relevant distinction

64Ibid., p. 109. upodharāgena vilolatārakam tathā grhītam sasinā nisāmukham/ yathā samastam timiramsukam taya puro 'pi rāgād galitam na laksitam// The verse, traditionally ascribed to Panini (probably not the famous grammarian), is cited as an example in Udbhata's Bhamahavivarana, in his commentary on Bhamaha's explanation of samāsokti (2.79-80) (cf. Gnoli, op. cit., pp. 34-5).

65Ibid., pp. 109-11.

161

seems to be one of reference. The verse is really about the

night and the moon; the suggestion that they are like a pair

of lovers may add a certain beauty to an otherwise mundane

description, but this does not affect their centrality as the

referents of the verse.

Elsewhere the term vakyarthibhava is employed more

generally in the sense of the being the intent or purport of

a sentence (what the Mimamsakas would call tatparya) . In

commenting on the verse "Ksipto hastavalagnah" ("Thrown off,

when clinging to their hands ... " -- cf. above, p. 151), for

example, Anandavardhana explains that it is the overwhelming

power of Siva that is the väkyartha, rather than the karuna-

rasa arising from the plight of the women of the Triple-city

or the vipralambha-srngära introduced by the comparison of

Śiva's arrow-fire with a rejected lover. Although the verse

is primarily devoted to description of the pitiable plight of

the women, its overall purport (as an invocation of Siva's

blessings) establishes praise of Siva as the vakyartha.

A second criterion applied in determining the relative

predominance of meanings derives from their comparative

beauty. "The intent to express either a literal or a

suggested meaning as primary is dependent on its having a

greater degree of beauty [cārutvotkarsa] ."66 In alamkāras

that convey some suggested meaning, it will, generally

speaking, be the expressed meaning on which the beauty of the

66Tbid., p. 114.

162

verse primarily depends. For example:

Although he is called by his companions, although he has woken and said "All right", although he wants to get up, the traveller doesn't relax his contracted posture.67

This verse is given as an example of the alamkāra visesokti

(in which a complete set of causes fails to produce an

expected effect) .68 There are two sub-varieties of this

alamkara as explained by Udbhata (Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha,

5.5-6). In one variety the reason for the anomaly is

explicitly stated, in the other it must be understood. In

cases of the latter type, such as the verse quoted, there is

thus (in Anandavardhana's terminology) a suggested vastu (fact

or narrative element). In this case, the reason for the

traveller's failure to get up is not given, and must be

surmised by the reader on contextual grounds. However, the

beauty of the verse, according to Anandavardhana, does not

derive from this suggestion, but depends upon the expressed

meaning itself.69 Whatever we may imagine to be the cause

67Ibid., p. 117. āhūto 'pi sahāyair om ity uktvā vimuktanidro 'pi/ gantumana api pathikah sankocam naiva śithilayati// The verse is attributed in several anthologies to one Bharścu (sometimes Bharvu or Bhascu), of whom only a few stray verses are known. Cf. Raghavan, Bhoja's Śrngaraprakasa, Madras, Punarvasu, 1963 [second ed.], pp. 817-18.

68A literal translation of the visesokti is difficult. It could perhaps be rendered as "the statement of term

special (or anomalous) case."

69It is not even clear what this suggested meaning is. Anandavardhana does not explain his own understanding of the Abhinavagupta, commenting on this passage (p. 117) explains that, according to Udbhata, we should understand from verse.

the verse that it is the morning cold that prevents the

163

for the traveller's reluctance to rise, it is the (directly

expressed) description of this reluctance which gives beauty

to the verse.

Anandavardhana is prepared to concede that among the

multitude of alamkäras defined and described by Bhamaha and

others there may possibly be a few genuine examples of dhvani.

In the alamkāra paryāyokta (oblique statement), a fact or

event is hinted at without being explicitly mentioned.

Bhämaha gives the following example:

Either in houses or on the road, we do not eat food which learned brahmans do not eat.70

The words are spoken by Krsna to his cousin and arch-rival

Śisupäla in declining his offer of food, and we are to

understand from this refusal that he knows the food to be

poisoned. The definition of paryayokta is general enough that

traveller from getting up. Abhinavagupta finds this explanation unsatisfying and understands the suggestion of the verse to be that the traveller has been dreaming of his beloved and is thus reluctant to wake. He claims that this is Anandavardhana's view of the verse also, but given his silence, it seems more likely that he accepted Udbhata's interpretation as valid. Although there is no trace of this verse or any apparent comment upon it in Gnoli's reconstructed text, Udbhata's explanation of the verse is presumably drawn from the Bhamahavivarana. The portion of the text where we would expect to find it (on Bhamaha 3.23-24) is lost, and would occur somewhere between fragments 39 and 40 of Gnoli's edition.

70 Bhamaha, Kavyalamkara, ed. and tr. P.V. Naganatha Shastry, Delhi, Motilal Banarsidass, 1970 [reprint], p. 57. grhesv adhvasu va nannam bhunjmahe yad adhītinah/ na bhuñjate dvijah ... (3.9) The verse fragment is, Bhamaha tells us, from a work called Ratnaharana, otherwise unknown.

164

it might include instances in which the suggested meaning is

primary (although Anandavardhana argues that in examples such

as Bhamaha's this is not so). If this is the case,

Anandavardhana contends, paryayokta should be included in

dhvani rather than dhvani, via paryayokta, being subsumed

under the alamkāras.71 Dhvani has a much wider scope than

paryayokta which is, at best, equivalent to a particular

variety of vastu-dhvani. If examples of this or any other

known alamkara are found in which the suggested meaning is

predominant, these are not, properly speaking, alamkāras at

all, and should be reinterpreted as instances of dhvani. Such

cases are rare in any case, and cannot pose any serious threat

to the case for dhvani as a distinct mode of poetry.

The cases we have been considering involve the suggestion

of a fact (vastu). Suggested alamkaras and rasas have also

been dealt with by previous Alamkärikas, and these too must be

carefully differentiated from true instances of dhvani.

Virtually all arthalamkaras which can be directly expressed

may be suggested as well.72 Udbhata and others have shown

many cases in which one alamkara, expressed directly, causes

us to understand another. A great many of the recognized

71Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 118-19. Pratiharenduraja (c. 950), in his commentary on Udbhata's Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha, will argue that all instances of dhvani cited by Anandavardhana can, in fact, be subsumed under one or another of the alamkaras described by Udbhata, and that all instances of vastu-dhvani can be treated as cases of paryayokta or aprastutaprasamsa (cf. below, Chapter 7, pp. 369ff) .

72Ibid., p. 257ff.

165

alamkāras depend upon an understood simile (upamā) -- rūpaka

("metaphorical identification"), in which the upameya (the

thing compared, e.g. a woman's face) is identified with the

upamana (the standard of comparison, e.g. the full moon) ;

sasamdeha ("doubt"), in which the speaker implies a simile by

pretending to confuse the upameya with the upamāna; dīpaka

("illuminator"), in which syntactic parallelism implies

similitude between the upamāna and upameya. Vamana even

attempted to demonstrate that all arthalamkāras are ultimately

permutations of the simile (upamaprapañca), and hence depend

upon some implied comparison.73 Bhamaha indicates that the

figure atisayokti ("hyperbole") lies at the root of all

alamkaras.74

As before, the crucial issue for Anandavardhana is the

relative primacy. of the expressed and suggested meanings.

Alamkara-dhvani can be said to exist only where the expressed

meaning is merely a vehicle to convey the understood alamkāra,

on which the beauty of the verse primarily depends (as in the

example "Praptasrir esa ... " ["Having already obtained Śri ... "]

quoted above, p. 129). The suggested simile in alamkāras such

as rūpaka and sasamdeha is invariably subordinate to the

expressed meaning. The identification of distinct things with

one another, or the confusion between them, is only

73Vamana, Kavyalamkarasutra, 4.3.1-33 Series 209, pp. 157-187 (Kashi Sanskrit

74Bhamaha, op. cit., p. 45. Quoted by Anandavardhana (p. 467) -- cf. below, Chapter Six, pp. 276-277.

166

comprehensible if based on some sort of similarity between the

them. But this understood simile has no special beauty of its

own, and is merely a necessary prerequisite for the

understanding of the expressed alamkara.

That latent element of hyperbole or exaggeration which

Bhämaha finds in all alamkāras is similarly subordinate.

"That alamkara in which hyperbole [atisayokti] finds a place

through the imaginative capacity [pratibha] of the poet will

attain great beauty; any other will be mere ornament

[alamkāramātra] . "75 The understood hyperbole is thus

necessary for the beauty of the expressed alamkāra, and is

therefore subordinate to it.

Thus, just as in the case of suggested vastus,

Anandavardhana employs the concepts of primacy and

subordination to differentiate cases of suggested alamkära

found here and there in the works of earlier Alamkārikas from

alamkära-dhvani, which he claims to define and describe for

the first time.

The case of alamkära-dhvani is, however, in one important

respect, considerably more problematic than that of vastu-

dhvani. The suggestion of a vastu in a verse invariably

depends on its expressed meaning. Alamkaras differ in that

their suggestion may, accoring to Anandavardhana, be either

dependent on the power of the (expressed) meaning

(arthasaktimūla) or dependent on the power of word

75Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 467-68.

167

(śabdaśaktimūla). The category of śabdaśaktimula-dhvani

presents special problems and remains an area of serious

controversy (particularly in Mahimabhatta's Vyaktiviveka -- cf.

below, Chapter Ten, pp. 512ff).

The term sabdasaktimula ("rooted in the power of word")

is explained as follows: "Although our understanding in such

a case is concerned with meaning [arthi], it is produced by

the capacity [samarthya] of a word [or words] capable of

connection with two meanings -- thus it is considered to be

rooted in the power of word. "76 The function of polysemy and

double entendre in poetry had already been extensively

explored by previous Alamkärikas, largely under the rubric of

the alamkāra slesa ("pun"), but also in such figures as

yamaka, lātānuprāsa, punaruktavadābhāsa, etc. It is not at

all clear at first glance whether, in the case of a double

entendre, one should regard both meanings as directly

expressed (albeit by the same word or words), or one meaning

(the one appropriate to the context) as expressed and the

other as suggested by the same words. The differentiation

between the figure slesa and sabdasaktimula-dhvani thus

becomes problematic and requires a careful analysis of the

role of double meaning in both contexts.

Anandavardhana begins the discussion of this question by

considering a hypothetical objection which dismisses the

category of sabdasaktimula-dhvani as essentially redundant.

76Ibid., p. 412.

168

"If, where a second meaning appears by the power of a word or

words, this is described as a type of dhvani, then the figure

slesa would lose all scope [visaya] ."77 The new category

overlaps entirely with one already well established, and is

hence superfluous.

Anandavardhana, in response, argues that the two cannot

be considered identical. In the first place, sabdaśaktimūla-

dhvani is restricted to cases in which it is an alamkära which

is suggested. Where the same words produce an understanding

of two vastus -- two matters of fact -- this would be accepted

as a case of slesa, and it cannot therefore be said that this

alamkära would be deprived of all scope.

This argument is, however, insufficient. It is an

essential element of the theory of slesa as it has been

developed by Bhamaha and subsequent authors that a verse

containing a slesa should make us understand not only two

separate meanings, but some relationship between them, which

will take the form of some other alamkara. Bhämaha (3.17)

explains that slesa is of three types, because it indicates

either sahokti ("statement together" -- a figure in which

actions are simultaneously ascribed to two separate things by

a single expression; cf. Bhamaha 3.39ff), upama ("simile"), or

hetu ("cause"). Udbhata (4.9-10), as is often the case,

reduces Bhamaha's observations to a more general principle,

and states that the words employed in ślesa produce an

77Ibid., p. 235.

169

impression (pratibha) of some other (unspecified) alamkära.

Thus it is well established that some further alamkāra

must always be understood in cases of slesa. Anandavardhana,

here as elsewhere, seems reluctant to disturb the recognized

concepts and categories of earlier Alamkarasastra, preferring

to see the phenomena he embraces under the concept of dhvani

as entirely separate from the realm of surface features dealt

with by his predecessors. It is thus essential for him to

show that this well-known aspect of slesa is in some way

insufficient to account for all instances where alamkāras are

understood through double entendre.

It is Anandavardhana's contention that in all instances

of slesa both the double entendre and the alamkära which

depends upon it must, in spite of this dependence, be regarded

as directly expressed. For example:

Her breasts, even without a necklace [hāra], are naturally attractive/necklaced [harin]: for whom would they not produce astonishment?78

Here we understand the figure virodha (" [apparent]

contradiction"), and the understanding of this figure is

clearly dependent on the polysemic word harin. The literal

sense of the word in this case is "attractive", but because

the word also means "having a necklace [hära]" there is an

apparent verbal contradiction: the woman's breasts are both

78Ibid., 236. tasya vina 'pi hārena nisargad eva hārinau/ janayām āsatuh kasya vismayam na payodharau// (Subhasitāvali 1534)

170

with and without a necklace. Our awareness of this virodha

alamkara, however, depends on the word api ("even"). As

Abhinavagupta points out in his comment on the verse, if this

word were removed, there would be no appearance of

contradiction -- the breasts are beautiful, and they have no

necklace. It is only the verbal cue provided by the

concessive particle api that leads us to ascribe a second

meaning of the word harin. In all instances of expressed

ślesa there will an explicit verbal cue of some sort -- what

Anandavardhana calls a nibandhana (a "cause" or "basis") --

which leads us to understand the double meaning.

In true cases of sabdasaktimula-dhvani, however, there

will be no such cue. The presence of a polysemic word or

words will, by itself, produce an awareness of a second

(suggested) meaning. For example:

At that time the great season/Great Time [i.e. Śiva in his aspect of world-destroyer] called summer, whose loud laughter appeared in the form of the white of its blooming jasmine/whose high laughter79 is white like blooming jasmine, came forth, ending/destroying the two months/cosmic age of the season of flowers [spring] .80

The literal sense of the verse can be understood without any

difficulty, and there is no particle or other word which would

prompt us to look for a double meaning. Nevertheless, the

presence of so many attributes which would be applicable to

79An attribute commonly ascribed to Śiva.

80Tbid., p. 241. atrāntare kusumasamayayugam upasamharann ajrmbhata grīsmābhidhānah phullamallikādhavalāttahāso mahākalah. (Bana, Harsacarita [Kane's ed., p. 21])

171

Siva as well as to the summer suggests such a double meaning

to us, on the basis of which we further understand a simile:

the hot season, bringing an end to the flowers of spring, is

like Śiva when he destroys the world.

Anandavardhana explains the process by which we

understand these meanings thus:

In these examples, when a second, non-contextual meaning appears through the power of word, [one thinks] "A sentence should not express unconnected meanings": thus, on the basis of implication [samarthya], one concludes that the contextual and non-contextual meanings are related as upameya [thing compared] and upamana [standard of comparison]. Thus this pun is hinted at by the meaning, not touched on by any word.81

Because a sentence must by definition express a single,

unified meaning, the double entendre, once noticed,

necessitates that we find some connection between the second

meaning and the overall sense of the sentence.82 This

connection will take the form of some alamkāra (typically

metaphor or simile, as above, but other alamkäras may also be

suggested in this way -- cf. Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 245-7) .

Because our understanding of this alamkära rests entirely on

B1Ibid., 244.

82Although Ānandavardhana here makes use of the Mīmāmsā notion of ekavākyata ("sentential unity" -- cf. above, Chapter Three, 85ff) sabdasaktimula-dhvani, Mahimabhatta (c. 1050 AD) will later pp. 76, to defend his explanation of

use the very same notion to show the complete impossibility of this variety of dhvani; precisely because there is no verbal cue which prompts the search for a double meaning in such expressions, there is nothing to connect their two possible meanings with one another, and hence no way to derive a propositionally unified sense from them -- cf. below, Chapter Ten, pp. 512-515.

172

our need to find coherence in the overall verse-meaning,

rather than upon some specific verbal cue, instances of

sabdasaktimula-dhvani can be clearly differentiated from cases

of expressed ślesa.

Just as the suggested vastus and alamkaras dealt with by

previous Ālamkarikas have been shown (because of their

subordination to the expressed meanings which give rise to

them) to lie outside the scope of dhvani, likewise the rasas

and rasa-based phenomena these Alamkarikas have shown to

operate in figures such as rasavat ("possessing rasa")83 can

be differentiated from true cases of rasa-dhvani on the basis

of their subordinate status. Rasa-dhvani is defined as

follows:

Where the various beautifying factors of word and meaning [sabdālamkāras and arthalamkāras, as well as other poetic features such as gunas] have rasa, etc. as their goal this will be a case of dhvani [dhvaner visayah] 84

Alamkaras such as rasavat are defined contrastively:

But in a poem where, given the predominance of some other sentence meaning, rasa, etc. is subordinate, this rasa, etc. will be an alamkāra -- this is my view.85

This subordinated rasa may occur either by itself, as in

the verse "kim hasyena ... " ("Why do you laugh ?... ", cf. above,

pp. 153-154) or in combination with some other alamkāra, as in

the verse "ksipto hastavalagnah ... " ("Thrown off, when

83Cf. above, Chapter Two, pp. 50ff.

84Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 180.

85Ibid., p. 191.

173

clinging to their hands ... ", cf. above, p. 151), where the

subordinate rasa, vipralambha-srīgāra (love in separation)

appears by means of, and as intimately connected with, the

double entendre through which the same attributes are ascribed

to Śiva's arrow-fire and to the spurned lover with whom it is

compared. In both these cases, the rasas conveyed are

subordinated to the overall purport of the verse in question,

namely the praise of some unnamed king and of Siva,

respectively. Where the rasa itself is the overall meaning or

object of the sentence (vakyarthibhuta), however, it cannot be

described as an alamkära, an ornament. An ornament is, by

definition, that which imparts beauty to something else;

nothing can be said to ornament itself.86 Where the rasa

serves as the main meaning of a verse, any co-occurrent

alamkāras will ornament it. Therefore the scope of rasa-

dhvani is clearly demarcated from that of alamkāras such as

rasavat.

The analysis of the subordinate/superordinate

relationship (angangibhäva) between the parts of a verse or a

composition thus becomes the basis for differentiating all

three varieties of dhvani from related phenomena explored in

the work of earlier Ālamkārikas. This reliance on the binary

opposition of primacy and subordination to distinguish dhvani

often produces a doubling of prior categories and subdivisions

of alamkāra within the analysis of dhvani. For instance, the

86Ibid., p. 197.

174

various modes of blending (samkara) and juxtaposition

(samsrsti) by which multiple alamkaras combine in a single

verse (as defined by Udbhata, Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha 5.11-13

and 6.5)87 are applied without alteration in Anandavardhana's

analysis of the combination of multiple varieties of dhvani

(Dhvanyaloka, 3.43) 88 Ānandavardhana's subdivision of rasa

and rasa-like phenomena into rasa, bhāva, rasābhāsa, and rasa-

praśānti recapitulates the categories developed by Udbhata

(Kavyalamkarasarasamqraha 4.1-5 and 4.7) to explain the

alamkaras rasavat, preyas, ūrjasvin, and samāhita

(respectively) and their rootedness in rasa.89

The Subordination of Alamkära to Rasa-dhvani

This careful demarcation of the realm of alamkāra from

that of dhvani depends on the necessary subordination of any

alamkara to some alamkārya, some thing-to-be-ornamented,

ideally rasa. Thus, the primacy of a single rasa in any

composition can serve as a criterion for the evaluation of

particular alamkāras in particular settings, just as it can

serve for the evaluation of the interrelationship of rasas

with one another.

The foremost requirement for any alamkara, according to

Ānandavardhana, is that it should not obstruct our

87Kāvyālamkārasārasamgraha, op. cit., pp. 67-71, 78-9.

88Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 501-16.

89Kavyālamkārasārasamqraha, op. cit., pp. 50-56 -- cf. above, Chapter Two, pp. 52-58.

175

appreciation of the rasa of a given verse or composition.

Alamkäras, even if they are well constructed and beautiful in

and of themselves, may easily serve as a distraction and thus

impair the audience's appreciation of the primary rasa. This

danger is especially acute in the case of śrīgära-rasa, which

is said to be more "tender" (sukumara) than other rasas.

For this [srīgära], because it consists of the full development of desire, and because desire can be interrupted even by some minor cause, is the tenderest of all rasas, and will not bear even for a moment the introduction of any contradictory factor.90

In accordance with this view Anandavardhana severely

restricts the application of the sabdalamkaras which have

received such a great deal of attention from earlier authors

(especially Dandin and Rudrata). The persistent use of a

single type of alliteration (anuprasa), for instance, should

be avoided in cases where srīgara is the predominant rasa

(although it is acceptable where srīgara is subordinate) .91

Furthermore, alliteration, like other features of word and

meaning, will be approved or rejected in a particular context

on the basis of its appropriateness (aucitya) to the dominant

rasa of the passage in question. Repetition of those phonemes

or groups of phonemes described as "harsh" (parusa -- cf.

Udbhata, Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha, 1.492) will be an obstacle

in passages meant to convey srīgara, but the same sort of

9Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 396-7.

91Ibid., p. 218-19.

2Kāvyālamkārasarasamgraha, op. cit., p. 5.

176

alliteration will be desirable when rasas such as bībhatsā

(disgust) are meant to be conveyed.93

Yamaka (the repetition of a group of phonemes so as to

give two separate meanings), difficult verbal puns (duskara-

sabda-slesa), and other such complex verbal figures should be

entirely avoided even by a skilled poet when śrngara is

predominant. The reasoning for such specific prohibitions is

explained by resort to a more general principle:

Only an alamkara achieved without a separate effort [aprthag-yatna-nirvartya], whose composition can be effected through [the poet's] fixation on rasa, is acceptable in cases of dhvani.94

Difficult sabdālamkāras such as yamaka demand great

effort from both poet and audience, and consequently do not

allow one to appreciate the verse through a single cognitive

effort. We must first "decode" the double meanings and other

verbal puzzles involved in such figures, and can only

subsequently savor the rasa conveyed by the verses containing

them. In contrast, figures based on meaning (arthalamkāras),

even complex ones, can emerge naturally in the work of a poet

intent on rasa.

This [distinction] is appropriate, since rasas are introduced by particular expressed meanings and the words that convey them. And alamkāras such as rūpaka [i.e.

these arthalamkäras] are the expressed meanings which reveal

[bahiranga] to the manifestation of rasa. [rasas]. Therefore these are not extrinsic But in the case of yamakas and other difficult sabdālamkāras this

"Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 303.

94Ibid., p. 219.

177

extrinsicality is established.95

Even where verses containing yamaka are found to evoke rasa,

this rasa will invariably be subordinate, since the figure

itself will demand the greater share of the listener' s

attention

While all arthālamkāras may be employed in verses or

passages primarily intended to evoke rasa, they too must

conform to certain restrictions if they are to contribute

effectively to this rasa, rather than constitute an obstacle

(rasa-vighna). Firstly, the alamkāra must be intended as a

subordinate element, rather than as the primary object of the

verse. For example:

Again and again you touch her trembling glance as it shifts to the corner of her eye; you sound sweetly, hovering near her ear, as if telling something in secret; although she strikes at you with her hands, you taste her lip, the essence of pleasure: we," because we seek the truth, have failed, but you, O bee, are successful.97

The verse is spoken by King Dusyanta, the hero of Kalidasa's

95Ibid, p. 222.

96The speaker, Dusyanta, although referring to himself alone, uses the plural; this may be simply an instance of "the royal we" -- not uncommon in Sanskrit, and not restricted to royalty -- but Kuntaka feels that the use of the plural here emphasizes Dusyanta's exclusion from imtimacy with Śakuntala (in contrast to the intimate proximity of the bee). Cf. VakroktijIvita, ed. Krishnamoorthy, p. 117, and below, Chapter Eight, p. 406.

97Ibid., p. 224. calāpāngam drstim sprśasi bahuso vepathumatīm rahasyākhyayīva svanasi mrdu karnāntikacarah/ karau vyādhunvatyah pibasi ratisarvasvam adharam vayam tattvānvesān madhukara hatās tvam khalu krtī// (Kālidāsa, Abhijñānasākuntala 1.21)

178

Abhijñanasakuntala, as he covertly observes Sakuntala. He has

fallen in love but hesitates to speak to her, being unsure

whether she is a ksatriya or a brahman (and hence not

legitimately accessible as a lover). He watches her fighting

off an approaching bee, which he imagines as a rival for her

affections. Hence the natural description (svabhavokti) 98 of

the bee is subordinate to the vipralambha-srīgara conveyed by

the verse.

The following is cited as a counter-example:

. [Visnu], who, by a forceful command in the form of a blow from his discus, made the love-play of Rahu's wives devoid of the unfettered play of embracing, so that only kissing remained [possible] .99

98Abhinavagupta (pp. 224-5) notes that earlier commentators have denied that the alamkära in this verse is svabhavokti, and have interpreted Anandavardhana's comment on this so as to reflect this view. The compound bhramarasvabhavokti ("natural description of the bee") is re- analyzed as a bahuvrihi: bhramarasvabhave uktir yasya (" [an alamkäral to which there belongs a statement regarding the nature of the bee"). This alamkara is, in their view, rūpakavyatireka ("metaphor combined with contrast"); the bee is metaphorically identified with a rival lover, and the fourth pada contrasts him (as successful in love) with Dusyanta (as a failure). This interpretation of the compound is, however, extremely strained, and Anandavardhana's comment can without serious difficulty be read in its more natural sense. The bee's actions are described literally. The metaphorical identification of the bee with a lover is not explicitly stated, and thus the rūpaka (and the vyatireka which depends upon it) must be regarded as suggested rather than expressed. The expressed alamkara of the verse would thus be svabhāvokti. .

99Ibid., p. 225. cakrābhighātaprasabhājñayaiva cakāra yo rāhuvadhūjanasya/ ālinganoddāmavilāsavandhyam ratotsavam cumbanamātraśesam//

Ruyyaka, in his commentary on the Vyaktiviveka (Kashi Sanskrit Series 121, p. 315), identifies the source of the verse as the (lost) Hayagrivavadha of Bhartrmentha. He gives the correct

179

Here the alamkāra is paryāyokta ("oblique statement"). When

the asura Rahu attempted to swallow the elixir of immortality

(after the gods and asuras had churned it from the ocean),

Visnu decapitated him with his discus; because he had begun to

swallow the elixir, he survived as a disembodied head. By

referring to an effect (that Rahu's wives can only kiss and

never embrace him) the verse obliquely causes us to understand

the cause (that Visnu decapitated Rahu). Although, via this

alamkāra, the verse does convey rasa (vira-rasa, based on

Visnu's heroic deed), the figure itself draws our attention,

and the beauty of the verse is based primarily upon it, rather

than on this rasa. Thus, the alamkara in this case cannot be

said to be subordinate.

A further condition for the subordination of alamkāra to

rasa is that it must be taken up or abandoned in accordance

with the requirements of this rasa, rather than simply for the

sake of any intrinsic beauty. The taking up of an alamkāra on

the proper occasion is illustrated as follows:

reading of the verse as ekabhighata- rather than cakrabhighata-, and explains that the referent of the pronoun yo ("who, what" [masc.]) is Visnu's discus Sudarsana rather than Visnu himself; on this reading we would translate, " ... [The discus Sudarsana] which, by a forceful command in the form of a single blow ... " Given that Ruyyaka apparently had access to the full text of the work, we have no reason to doubt his correction. It is interesting, however, that the apparent misreading recurs consistently in the many citations of the verse in the works of later Alamkarikas (Pratīharenduraja, Kuntaka, Mahimabhatta), suggesting that they are citing Anandavardhana's citation rather than the original work (Ruyyaka himself quotes the Anandavardhana's verse with

Alamkārasarvasva reading, without comment, in his [Kāvyamala 35, p. 106]) .

180

Having blossoms/longing which are/is unrestrained, having a pale color/complexion, flower/yawn100, showing its own motion by reason of the suddenly beginning to

ceaseless rising of breezes/revealing her own exhaustion by the ceaseless rising of her sighs; by looking at this garden-creeper, twined round a madana-tree/full of love, which is like another woman, I will surely make the queen's face red with anger.101

The verse is spoken by Udayana, the hero of Harsa's Ratnavall.

Although the queen's jealousy is here only imagined, based on

the punning comparison of a creeper with another woman, the

verse foreshadows the queen's real jealousy when Udayana falls

in love with the princess Ratnavali. The slesa and the simile

that depends upon it are thus introduced not simply because

they are beautiful in and of themselves but because their use

at this juncture serves to magnify the rasa developed in the

composition as a whole.

The fullest possible development of rasa may, in some

cases, necessitate that one alamkāra, after it has been

introduced, be abandoned in favor of another. For example:

You are red/passionate because of your new shoots, I because of the valued qualities of bees/arrows come to you, and, shot from the bow of the my beloved;

god of love, to me as well; a blow from the foot of a beautiful woman would delight you102 and likewise me;

100Yawning (jrmbha) longing. is regarded as a symptom sexual

101Ibid., p. 226. uddāmotkalikām vipāndurarucam prārabdhajrmbhām ksanād āyāsam svasanodgamair aviralair ātanvatīm ātmanah/ adyodyanalatām imam samadanam narīm ivanyam dhruvam pasyan kopavipātaladyuti mukham devyāh karisyamy aham// (Harsa, Ratnavali 2.4)

102The asoka tree is believed to burst into bloom when kicked by a young woman.

181

everything is the same for us, O asoka, except that the creator has made me full of grief [saśoka] .103

Aśoka is the name of a particular type of tree, but

etymologically means "without grief"; the speaker, separated

from his lover, contrasts his grieving state with that of the

tree. The first three quarters of the verse contain a series

of puns (slesa) through which we understand a simile (upama)

between the speaker and the tree, but in the fourth this

upama-slesa is abandoned in favor of the alamkāra vyatireka

("contrast") (this vyatireka is likewise based on slesa,

arising from the punning use of the word asoka, but

Anandavardhana does not remark on the point) . The simile-

based slesa conveys vipralambha-srngära by highlighting the

speaker's feelings for his lover, but the abandonment of this

alamkāra and the introduction of a new alamkāra, vyatireka,

intensifies this rasa by emphasizing the wretched state of the

speaker in her absence.

Another important condition for the subordination of an

alamkära to rasa is that the poet should not attempt to

develop it too fully (atinirvahanaisita). In the verse "kopāt

komalalola -... " ("His beloved, having bound him firmly ... ",

103Tbid., p. 227. raktas tvam navapallavair aham api slaghyaih priyāya gunais tvām āyānti śilīmukhāh smaradhanurmuktas tatha mām api/ kāntāpādatalāhatis tava mude tadvan mamāpy avayoh sarvam tulyam asoka kevalam aham dhātrā saśokah krtah//

The verse is taken from Yasovarman's (lost) Ramabhyudaya -- cf. V. Raghavan, Some Old Lost Rama Plays (Annamalainagar: Annamalai University, 1961), pp. 21-22.

182

cf. above, p. 150), the metaphorical identification of the

hero with a prisoner is not carried through to its fullest

possible extent. As Abhinavagupta points out, 104 in addition

to identifying the lover's arm with a fetter, the poet could

have identified the lover with a huntress (vyadhavadhu), the

bed-chamber with a jail or a cage, and so on. To fully

develop the metaphor in this way would spoil the vipralambha-

srīgāra which is the primary object of the verse.

If an alamkära is developed fully, the poet must

carefully ensure that it continues to serve the purpose of

nourishing the main rasa throughout. For example:

I see your limbs in the syama-creepers, your gaze in the tremulous glance of the deer, the brightness of your cheek in the moon, your hair in the peacocks' masses of tail-feathers, the play of your eyebrows in the slender wave of the river; alas, shy one, there is no likeness of you in any one place. 105

Here the figure106 is carried through to its full extent,

through the speaker's comparison/identification of a series of

features of the natural environment with those of his absent

lover. The likeness of these individual features is, however,

used to heighten the vipralambha-srngara of the verse, through

104 Ibid., p. 232.

105Tbid., pp. 232-3. śyāmāsv angam cakitaharinīpreksane drstipātam gandacchayām sasini sikhinām barhabhāresu kesān/ utpaśyāmi pratanusu nadīvīcisu bhrūvilāsān hantaikastham kvacid api na te bhīru sādrsyam asti// (Kālidāsa, Meghaduta 101)

106According to Abhinavagupta, (in which attributes of one thing are ascribed to another), but one utpreksa

could also describe it as a suggested upamā or rūpaka.

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its culmination in the speaker's lamenting the absence of the

whole to which they belong.

Generally, then, the introduction, development, and

termination of alamkaras should be contingent upon the

requirements of the primary rasa of a verse or a larger work.

Like the ornaments used to decorate the human body, the

ornaments of a poem are to be valued not for their own beauty

but for the potential they have to beautify something else.

Rasa, as the ultimate goal of poetry, is the thing to be

beautified by these ornaments. If poets employ alamkāras for

their own intrinsic beauty, without regard for their ability

to aid in the conveying of rasa, the aesthetic impact of their

works will suffer as a consequence.

Deviation from the specific prescriptions made here for

the use of alamkāras, or from the more general principle of

subordination which underlies them, will produce the flaw of

rasa-bhanga ("breaking of the rasa"). Ānandavardhana claims

that examples of such misapplication of alamkāras can

frequently be found even in the works of great poets, but

declines, out of respect, to cite specific examples. 107

The Subordination of Other Poetic Elements to Rasa-dhvani

Although they are not treated as extensively as

alamkāras, other features of poetry examined by previous

Ālamkārikas are similarly shown to be subordinate to or

dependent upon rasa. Gunas ("qualities") are, for

107Tbid., p. 233.

184

Anandavardhana, first and foremost qualities of rasa. These

qualities can be said to belong to words and meanings only

insofar as these words and meanings communicate particular

rasas.

Like Bhamaha before him, Anandavardhana rejects the list

of ten gunas set forth in the Natyasastra (and accepted by

Dandin and Vamana) and limits the number of gunas to three:

madhurya ("sweetness"), ojas ("strength"), and prasāda

("clarity"). Mādhurya is a quality of srngara-rasa,

especially of vipralambha-srngara, and of karuna-rasa, because

these rasas are especially delightful to the hearts of

connoisseurs. 108 Rasas such as raudra ("fury" ) are

characterized by ojas. Prasada is a quality common to all

rasas, and poetry is said to possess this quality insofar as

it is able to clearly communicate rasa.

It is because rasa can be conveyed by both sound and

sense that a division between qualities of word and meaning

(such as that made by Vamana) can be drawn. For example:

O queen, Bhima will bind up your hair, his hands red with the clumped and densely matted blood of Duryodhana, whose two thighs will have been crushed by a fierce club-blow propelled by his [i.e. Bhima's] whirling arm. 109

The phrases "his hands red with the clumped and densely matted

108Tbid., pp. 205-208.

109Tbid., p. 210. cancadbhujabhramitacandagadabhighata- samcūrnitoruyugalasya suyodhanasya/ styanavabaddhaghanasonitasonapāni- ruttamsisyati kačāms tava devi bhīmah// (Bhattanārāyana, Venīsamhāra 1.23)

185

blood" and "his two thighs crushed by a fierce club blow

propelled by his whirling arm" are each expressed by a single

compound. The use of such lengthy compounds, quite

independently of their meaning, heightens the raudra-rasa

conveyed by the verse; hence the verse would be said to

possess the sabda-guna ojas.

A verse may, on the basis of its meaning, convey raudra,

even in the absence of the syntactic or phonological features

which would normally convey such a rasa:

Anyone among the armies of the Pandavas who, taking pride in the strength of his own arm, bears a weapon; anyone in the Pañcala clan, be he a child, an old man, or one still in the womb; anyone who witnessed this act; anyone who stands in my way while I am moving in battle; blind with rage, I will be the death of such a person, even if he himself is the death of all the world. 110

This verse lacks the long compounds which characterized the

previous verse, but its meaning still clearly conveys raudra-

rasa. So such a verse possesses ojas as an artha-guna.

Hence, gunas can be shown to depend not merely on specific

features of word and meaning but, ultimately, on the rasa

evoked by a verse or composition.

It is only by virtue of this direct dependence on rasa

that gunas can be differentiated from alamkäras. Here again

Anandavardhana employs the basic metaphor of Alamkārasāstra,

110Ibid., p. 211. yo yah śastram bibharti svabhujagurumadah pāndavīnām camūnām yo yah pāñcalagotre sisur adhikavayā garbhasayyam gato vā/ yo yas tatkarmasāksī carati mayi rane yaś ca yaś ca pratīpah krodhāndhas tasya tasya svayam api jagatām antakasyāntako ham// (Bhattanārāyana, Venīsamhāra 3.32)

186

that of body (sarira) and ornamentation (alamkara), as part of

his argument for the necessity and centrality of dhvani in

poetry.

Those [features] which depend on this primary [angin] meaning, i.e. rasa etc., are qualities [gunas], just as heroism and so on [are qualities in a person]; those which depend on subordinate "limbs"], i.e. words elements [anga -- lit.

alamkäras, like bracelets and so on [which ornament the and expressed meanings, are

limbs of a person] .111

As we have seen, alamkaras, although they may ultimately

assist in conveying rasa, function primarily at the level of

direct expression. Any suggested meaning they convey will

necessarily be subordinate (otherwise they would not be

alamkāras at all, but instances of one or another type of

dhvani). They are thus analyzable as features of words and

their expressed meanings. Gunas are properties of rasas

themselves; one may describe the words and meanings which

convey a sweet rasa as "sweet", but this is to speak

metaphorically. If gunas were actually, like alamkāras,

properties of words and their expressed meanings, there would

be no reason to designate or treat them separately from

alamkāras. The distinction between these two categories of

aesthetic phenomena is explicable only on the basis of their

relation to rasa-dhvani.

Anandavardhana shows that other distinctions employed by

previous Alamkärikas are similarly explicable only in terms of

his teleological, rasa-oriented model of poetic effect.

illIbid., p. 204.

187

Dosas, flaws which impair the aesthetic effectiveness of a

poem, are extensively analyzed by Ānandavardhana's

predecessors in the field. For the most part these flaws are

not context-dependent and are to be unconditionally avoided in

composing poetry. Grammatical errors, metrical deviation,

obscure or technical vocabulary, and so on, will always

detract from the effectiveness of a poem. However Bhamaha

describes a sub-group of defects, involving harshness of sound

or sense, which may be acceptable or even desirable in certain

instances. 112 Bhamaha gives examples of the unobjectionable

use of words which would ordinarily be rejected as

phonetically harsh (srutikasta) or semantically objectionable

(śrutidusta).

Because they possess such exceptions, Anandavardhana

designates this group of flaws as anitya-dosas ("variable

defects") . 113 Bhamaha gives no clear explanation for these

exceptions, and no indication is given as to how one is to

discriminate between acceptable and unacceptable uses of such

112Cf. Kāvyālamkāra, 1.47-59. There are four defects dealt with here: śrutidusta ("objectionable to the ear" -- use of obscene, scatological, or otherwise objectionable words), arthadusta ("objectionable in meaning" -- conveying an obscene sense without the use of such words) , kalpanādusta ("objectionable in construction" -- in which the juxtaposition of words reproduces the form of an obscene srutikasta ("harsh to the ear" -- use of words regarded as word), and

phonetically harsh or ugly).

113Dhvanyaloka op. cit., p. 214. While Bhamaha gives no examples of acceptable instances of arthadusta kalpanadusta, Anandavardhana seems to refer to the entire or

group of defects as anitya.

188

words or constructions. For Anandavardhana the explanation is

simple: such phonetically or semantically harsh elements must

be avoided when srngära (or some similarly tender rasa) is to

be conveyed. In verses conveying other rasas, such as

bībhatsa ("disgust") or raudra ("fury"), such usages will not

pose any aesthetic problem, and may even serve to intensify

these rasas. The centrality of rasa provides the necessary

criterion allowing one to determine the acceptability of such

usages in particular contexts. Thus, like the distinction

between guna and alamkara, the distinction between variable

and invariable defects (anitya- and nitya-dosas) can be

satisfactorily accounted for only if the centrality of rasa-

dhvani is accepted.

Like alamkāras and gunas, other aesthetically relevant

features of poetic language dealt with by earlier theorists

are shown to be either dependent on or reducible to rasa-

dhvani. Ritis ("styles"), those particular constellations of

gunas which Vamana regards as the essential factors in

producing poetic beauty, represent for Anandavardhana a

confused and inadequate effort to theorize dhvani

(specifically rasa-dhvani) .

The rītis -- Vaidarbhi, Gaudiya, and Pañcali -- have been introduced by those unable to explain the true nature of poetry -- explained here by the introduction of dhvani -- which appeared to them indistinctly [asphuta]. The true nature of poetry was only indistinctly, slightly apparent to the formulators of the definitions of ritis; here it is defined clearly: no purpose would be served by giving

189

a definition of riti as well. 114

We have already seen that gunas, the constituent elements of

Vamana's ritis, are properties of rasa alone. For a poem to

be endowed with a particular set of gunas (and thus possess a

particular riti) is simply for it to convey a particular rasa

endowed with these qualities. Thus rīti is merely a

roundabout way of describing rasa-dhvani, and is entirely

reducible to it. The concept of riti, once the real nature of

rasa and its central role in poetic enjoyment is understood,

becomes superfluous.

Those aspects of poetry designated by the term vrtti

("method, mode") in the works of earlier theorists are shown

to function in subordination to the requirements of rasa. The

term is applied by Udbhata to the three varieties of

alliteration (parusa, "harsh"; upanāgarika, "sophisticated,

urbane"; and gramya, "rustic") ; 115 Bharata describes four

vrttis (kaisikī, sāttvatī, ārabhatī, and bhāratī), modes of

presentation governing plot and language as well as gesture,

costume, and a variety of other elements of dramatic

performance.116 There is no apparent historical connection

between these two sets of categories, and the designation of

both by the term vrtti seems to be mere coincidence, but

114Dhvanyaloka on 3.46 (op. cit., p. 517) .

115Kavyalamkarasarasamgraha 1.4-7 (op. cit., pp. 4-6) .

116Nātyasastra, 20.1ff, Vol. III, Parimal Sanskrit Series #4, Parimal Publications, 1983, pp. 80ff.

190

Anandavardhana treats them collectively.

Vrtti is said to be a function. The vrttis kaisiki, etc. [described by Bharatal are a function residing in the expressed meaning [of a poem] which is appropriate and in conformity with rasa. Upanagarika, etc. [i.e. Udbhata's vrttis] reside in the words.117

Vrtti is, generally speaking, the arrangement of elements in

a poem in such as a way as to convey a particular rasa;

Udbhata's vrttis do SO phonetically and Bharata' s

semantically, but they are alike in their subordination to and

dependence on the requirements of rasa. The employment of

either sort of vrtti in an improper context (that is, where it

is not appropriate to the dominant rasa) is mentioned by

Anandavardhana as one of the factors which damages the

capacity of a work to convey rasa.118 Like alamkāras, then,

vrttis are to be employed not for any independent, intrinsic

beauty but because of their capacity, in the proper context,

to heighten the particular rasa conveyed by a passage.

The entire range of concepts and categories applied to

literature by earlier practitioners of Alamkārasāstra is thus

integrated in a single, all encompassing model of aesthetic

effect. Rasa is established as the overriding goal of

literature in general, and the predominance of a single rasa

as the standard for the aesthetic coherence of a particular

literary work. The features of composition defined and

described by previous Ālamkärikas are either shown to function

117Dhvanyaloka on 3.33 (op. cit., p. 401).

118Dhvanyaloka on 2.18-19 (op. cit., p. 364) .

191

as subordinate elements in the communication of rasa

(alamkāras and vrttis) or entirely absorbed into the

description of rasa-dhvani and hence rendered superfluous

(guna and rīti). As we have seen, this teleological model of

literary aesthetics and the accompanying hierarchical analysis

of the elements of poetic texts is without precedent in the

area of Alamkarasastra, and has its roots in the Mīmāmsa

technique of Vedic text analysis. Ānandavardhana's

importation of the key elements of Mimamsa interpretive

technique into Alamkāraśāstra leads to an increasingly

detailed application of the terminology and methods of Mimamsa

to poetic analysis in the works of the Alamkärikas of tenth

and eleventh century Kashmir (both followers and opponents of

Anandavardhana's dhvani theory), and these developments will

be examined in subsequent chapters.

Eager to deflect the charge that he is merely re-naming

and re-describing the elements and categories outlined by

earlier Ālamkārikas, Ānandavardhana tries to establish that

dhvani depends on suggestion (vyanjana) a mode of verbal

meaning entirely distinct from the literal and metaphorical

modes recognized and treated by previous language theorists.

In doing so he challenges not only established poetic theory

but the philosophy of language in general. Grammarians,

Mīmāmsakas, and logicians (Naiyāyikas as well as Buddhists

such as Dharmakirti), while they disagree violently on many

aspects of language theory, uniformly accept only literal and

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metaphorical modes of meaning. Hence Anandavardhana must

defend his theory of poetic language not only against the

attacks of fellow aestheticians, but also against the views of

the major schools of linguistic philosophy. Anandavardhana's

encounter with general linguistic theory, unprecedented in its

depth and intensity, has important consequences for the future

development of Alamkarasastra in Kashmir, and in Chapter Five

we will examine this encounter in detail.

We have also seen that, in the light of Anandavardhana's

claim to have discovered a new variety of poetic meaning, the

citation of example verses in the Dhvanyaloka takes on an

evidential function it has not borne in earlier works on

poetic theory. Anandavardhana must not only illustrate the

varieties of dhvani he defines, he must prove that dhvani is

pervasively present in the recognized classics of Sanskrit

literature, despite the failure of earlier poetic theorists to

notice or describe it. This gives his work an empirical

orientation, geared more toward the description of existing

literature and analysis of its aesthetic effect than that of

previous works of Alamkārasāstra. This empirical approach

opens up new possibilities in the area of literary criticism

(possibilities which will be more fully exploited by Kuntaka

in his Vakroktijīvita), but at the same time creates

theoretical problems for Anandavardhana, as he is forced to

acknowledge that there exists a significant body of respected

poetry in which rasa is not the overriding aesthetic goal.

193

Ānandavardhana is unwilling to deny all literary value to such

works, yet has difficulties explaining them in terms of his

teleological model of poetic language. The tension between

theory and criticism in the Dhvanyaloka and the problems

presented by poetry in which suggested meaning is subordinate

(gunībhuta-vyangya-kavya), or that in which it is altogether

absent (citra-kävya) will be examined in Chapter Six.

CHAPTER FIVE ANANDAVARDHANA'S POETICS AND THE PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE

We have seen that Anandavardhana justifies his radical

departure from the methods and concepts of previous literary

theory by appealing to bodies of thought and practice outside

the field of Alamkārasāstra. He resorts to the analysis of

existing literary works to demonstrate that dhvani, although

unrecognized by previous theorists, has played a central role

in the works of great poets from the very origins of literary

art (in Valmīki's Ramayana, the "first poem" [adi-kāvya]). In

addition, he draws on the concepts and methods of linguistic

philosophy, principally on the teleological discourse analysis

of the Mimamsakas, in formulating and defending his innovative

approach to literary analysis. Anandavardhana's application

of models drawn from linguistic philosophy in the realm of

Alamkārasāstra, while it gives him access to a sophisticated

and ready-made set of tools for text-analysis and thus greatly

expands the possibilities of literary criticism, also requires

him to account for the phenomena of literary language in

philosophical terms.

In the centuries preceding Anandavardhana's work,

Ālamkārikas had devised a detailed and sophisticated

conceptual vocabulary for the description and analysis of the

elements of literary language. This vocabulary of literary

analysis had developed more or less independently of the

system of concepts and terms deployed in the analysis of non-

literary language by Mīmamsakas, grammarians, and logicians

194

195

(the major practitioners of linguistic philosophy in

Sanskrit) . Adherents of these schools of philosophical

thought, while differing widely in their views on the nature

of word- and sentence-meaning, had, through centuries of

argument, developed in common a system of terms through which

linguistic phenomena could be analyzed and discussed. The

Ālamkārikas, taking a specialized variety of language as their

object of study, had taken few pains to integrate their

terminology and descriptive categories with those employed by

philosophers of non-literary language. In effect, two

distinct vocabularies had developed, one for the description

and analysis of language in general, and another for the

description and analysis of language crafted for aesthetic

effect.

Applications of the terms of general linguistic

philosophy in the works on Alamkāraśāstra prior to

Anandavardhana's time are rare, and do not play any major

theoretical role for the authors of these works. Where there

is a clear parallel between a particular figure of poetic

language and some recognized feature of ordinary language, the

terms of linguistic philosophy are occasionally employed by

these authors. Udbhata, for example, describes the figure

rūpaka (metaphor) as a type of gunavrtti (secondary

signification) .1 Vāmana explains that the figure ślesa

1Kāvyālamkārasārasamgraha, 1.11, Banhatti's ed., p. 10. Gunavrtti is the term employed by philosophers to describe cases in which a word, when its literal referent is

196

(double entendre) occurs when a single word or set of words

simultaneously describes two referents by a process of

tantra, 2 and defines the figure vakrokti ("oblique

expression") as "laksana [figurative signification] based on

similarity".3 In discussing these alamkäras, the use of well-

known philosophical terms is convenient for descriptive

purposes. But, for the most part, the alamkaras and other

aspects of poetic language dealt with by these authors have no

obvious parallels in the philosophers' analysis of non-poetic

language, and there is no systematic effort on the part of

these Alamkarikas to account for the poetic phenomena they

describe in philosophic terms.

Anandavardhana focusses his attention not on the typology

of poetic features, as his predecessors had for the most part

done, but on the processes by which the words of a poem convey

to its readers or hearers a particular set of meanings, and on

the hierarchical interrelations between these multiple

contextually impossible, metaphorically ascribes qualities (gunas) of its literal referent to its actual referent. example, in the expression "That boy is a lion", the word For

"lion" causes us to understand that the boy being described has the qualities of a lion (fierceness, bravery, etc.). Cf. Sabarabhasya on MImamsasutra 1.4.23 and 3.2.1, and above, Chapter Three, pp. 109-110.

2Kavyalamkarasutra, 4.3.7, Kashi Sanskrit Series #209, pp. 162-3. Tantra is an interpretive principle employed by the Mimamsakas to explain how a single act or material in a ritual, or a single word or passage in a text, simultaneously perform two or more separate functions. may Cf. Mimāmsāsutra, 11.1.1ff.

3Ibid., pp. 164-5. Cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 109ff.

197

meanings. In doing so he applies the concepts and tools of

philosophical language analysis to the phenomena of literary

language in a more thoroughgoing and systematic fashion than

did any of the Alamkärikas who preceded him. This approach to

the analysis of poetry requires him to bridge the

aforementioned terminological and conceptual divide between

the paradigms of literary and non-literary language theory.

As we shall see, alongside the tripartite classification of

dhvani into vastu, alamkāra, and rasa (categories derived from

earlier literary analysis), Anandavardhana provides a second

typology of dhvani based on philosophically derived

categories.

In addition, Anandavardhana's contention that the realm

of suggestion he examines has gone unnoticed by earlier

theorists and must be distinguished from already recognized

modes of verbal signification places him in conflict with all

the major schools of Sanskrit linguistic philosophy, as they

admit only two modes of signification, literal (abhidha) and

metaphorical/metonymical (gunavrtti / laksanā) .

Ānandavardhana's third mode of signification (vyañjana --

suggestion) must be defended against the objections (actual or

hypothetical) of grammarians, Mimamsakas, and logicians (both

Naiyayikas and Buddhists), all of whom wish either to

incorporate it within one or both of the accepted modes of

signification, or to exclude it altogether from the realm of

verbal signification by explaining cases of "suggestion" as

198

inferences which operate after the meaning of a text has been

understood. The defense of vyañjana as an independent mode of

signification becomes a major task for Anandavardhana and his

defenders in the ensuing centuries (chiefly Abhinavagupta and

Mammata), and much of the criticism of the dhvani-theory in

this period is focussed on this point (e.g. Mukulabhatta's

Abhidhavrttamatrka and Mahimabhatta's Vyaktiviveka).

The Categorization of Dhvani in Philosophic Terms

In the Dhvanyaloka, Anandavardhana presents two separate

and unrelated typologies of dhvani. The first subdivides

cases of dhvani on the basis of the type of meaning which is

suggested. Verses or passages containing dhvani may suggest

an unexpressed vastu, alamkāra, or rasa. These three

categories of possible suggested meaning are drawn from within

the tradition of Alamkarasastra.4 The second typological

schema classifies cases of dhvani based not on their suggested

content, but rather on the process by which this suggested

content is apprehended, and on the relationship, temporal as

well as functional, between the literal and suggested contents

of a passage.

In this second schema, instances of dhvani are first

divided into two broad categories: those in which the directly

expressed meaning of a verse, being contradicted or supplanted

'Although the terms rasa and vastu ("plot" or "narrative content") are drawn originally from dramaturgy (Natyasastra) rather than Alamkarasastra, both had been introduced into the vocabulary of the Alamkarikas well before Ānandavardhana's time.

199

by its suggested meaning, is not literally intended

(avivaksita-vacya), and those in which the expressed meaning,

although subordinated to the suggested meaning, is literally

intended (vivaksitānyapara-vācya) .5

Each of these categories is further subdivided. Cases of

dhvani in which the expressed meaning is not literally

intended (avivaksita) may be divided into two subclasses:

those in which the expressed meaning is totally displaced

(atyanta-tiraskrta), and those in which it is transformed into

some other (suggested) meaning (arthantara-samkramita). The

following is given as an example of the first type:

The moon, its disk obscured by frost and its beauty transferred to the sun, does not shine, like a mirror blinded by breath.6

Here the relevant expression is "blinded by breath"

(nihsvasandha). The use of the word here suggests the

obscurity and inability to reflect images clearly of a mirror

fogged by breath. A mirror is insentient by nature, and hence

the word "blind" cannot be literally applied to it. The

expressed meaning of the word is therefore totally displaced

5All cases of rasa-dhvani fall into the latter class. In the verse "Siva, his composure somewhat disturbed ... " (quoted above, cf. Chapter Four, p. 130), the description of Siva's agitation as he gazes at Parvati's face is meant to suggest srngara rasa (which serves as the primary meaning of the verse), and is in no way falsified or contradicted by this suggested rasa.

6Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 172. ravisamkrāntasaubhāgyas tusārāvrtamandalah/ nihśvasandha ivādarśaś candramā na prakāśate// (Ramāyana, 3.15.13)

200

by its suggested sense.7

The second variety is exemplified by the following verse:

The clouds, with cranes wheeling against them, smear the sky with dark, wet, splendor; the winds contain droplets of water; the joyful cries of the friends of the clouds [i.e. the peacocks] are sweet. All right, let them be so! I am Rama, whose heart is very hard; I can endure all! But how will Sita survive? Alas, my queen, be strong!8

The clouds, the moist winds, and the cries of the peacocks are

signs of the approaching rainy season, a time when travellers

typically return home and separated lovers are reunited. For

lovers who cannot be united, the onset of the rains

intensifies their longing and heightens the pain of

separation. In this verse Rama laments his separation, during

the rains, from Sita, who has been abducted by Ravana. Here,

the literal meaning of the statement "I am Rama," although

true, is not intended (vivaksita). The intention of this

expression is not to communicate the identity of the speaker

(which is already known from context), but rather emphasize

Rama's capacity to endure intense suffering by reminding the

audience of the many calamities he has endured in the past

7Ānandavardhana's arguments for the distinction of such cases of dhvani from ordinary metaphor are examined below (pp. 226-230).

8Ibid., pp. 167-8. snigdhasyāmalakāntiliptaviyato velladbalākā ghanā vātāh šīkarinah payodasuhrdām ānandakekāh kalāh/ kamam santu drdham kathorahrdayo ramo 'smi sarvam sahe vaidehī tu katham bhavisyati hahāhā devi dhira bhava// The source of the verse is not definitely known, but Raghavan suggests that it is probably from Act Two of Yasovarman's Ramabhyudaya (cf. Raghavan, Some Old Lost Rāma Plays, p. 20).

201

(his exile from his father's kingdom, the abduction of SIta,

the death of his father, and so on). Thus the literal meaning

of the word "Rama" is not totally displaced, but is

transformed into a further suggested meaning (arthantara-

samkramita).

Like avivaksita-vācya dhvani, the second major category

of dhvani, vivaksitanyapara-vacya (in which the literal

meaning is intended, but subordinated to another, suggested,

meaning) contains two subtypes. In this case, where both the

literal and suggested meanings of a verse are intended, it is

the apparent temporal relationship between these two meanings

which serves as the basis for subdivision. When a particular

rasa is suggested by a verse, it is not experienced by the

reader or hearer as something separate from, and subsequent

to, the directly expressed meaning of the verse. It may be

shown by careful analysis that this rasa is a separate meaning

occasioned by the presence, in the expressed meaning, of a

particular set of aesthetic factors (vibhavas, anubhavas, and

vyabhicaribhavas), and that the audience's apprehension of

rasa is therefore necessarily subsequent to its understanding

of the expressed meaning of the verse.9 However, for a

sensitive observer, the sequence between the apprehension of

the expressed meaning and the rasa it suggests will be so

rapid as to go unnoticed. Instances of dhvani in which rasa

is suggested are therefore termed asamlaksya-krama ("in which

9Cf. Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 403-413.

202

sequence is unnoticed").

Where the expressed meaning is intended, but

subordinated to some suggested meaning other than rasa (i.e.

a suggested vastu or alamkära), the succession between the two

meanings will necessarily be apparent. Such cases are

therefore termed samlaksya-krama ("in which sequence is

noticed"). For example,

While the divine sage [Narada] was speaking thus, ParvatI, at her father's side, counted the petals on her play-lotus.10 with face downcast,

Narada has come as an envoy to arrange Parvati's marriage with

Śiva. The expression "counted the petals on her play-lotus"

describes Pärvati's actions, and thereby suggests that she is

embarrassed by the discussion of her upcoming marriage. Here

the suggested meaning is understood from conscious reflection

on the literal meaning of the verse, and the sequential

relationship between the two meanings is thus apparent.

Because of the noticeable interval between our understanding

of these two meanings, this type of dhvani is also described

as anuranana-rupa ("having the form of a reverberation").

Samlaksya-krama dhvani is further subdivided into two

classes depending on whether the suggested meaning depends on

the suggestive power of a particular (expressed) meaning

(arthasakti-mūla) or depends on the suggestive power of a

10Ibid., p. 248. evamvādini devarsau pārśve pitur adhomukhī/ līlákamalapattrāni ganayām āsa pārvatī// (Kālidāsa, Kumārasambhava 6.84)

203

particular word or set of words (sabdasaktimula). The verse

just quoted is an example of the first type. The second type,

in which the presence of polysemic words suggests a double

entendre, is exemplified by the passage "At that time the

great season ... " (cf. above, Chapter Four, p. 170) .

Ãnandavardhana's second typology classifies dhvani on the

basis of the process by which we apprehend suggested meaning,

rather than the content of this suggested meaning. This

emphasis on the processes of linguistic cognition is largely

absent from earlier works on Alamkarasastra, and reflects an

unprecedented effort on Anandavardhana's part to give an

account of the semantic functioning of poetry in philosophic

terms. The distinction between meanings which are "meant to

be expressed" (vivaksita) and "not meant to be expressed"

(avivaksita), which serves as the primary basis of

classification, plays a major role in the Mīmamsakas' system

of textual interpretation, as we have seen.11 The close

attention devoted to the succession of multiple stages of

meaning likewise shows a Mimamsa influence.

Vyañjana as a Distinct Mode of Verbal Signification

While this classificatory system thus applies the

conceptual tools of linguistic philosophy, particularly

Mimāmsa, to the analysis of meaning in poetry, it applies them

to a variety of meaning hitherto unrecognized by philosophers

of language. Anandavardhana contends that dhvani depends on

11Cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 98ff.

204

a mode of verbal signification distinct from those modes

already known to philosophers of language, abhidhā

(denotation, direct expression) and gunavrtti (secondary or

figurative expression -- a category comprising both metaphor

and metonymy). This third mode of signification he calls

vyañjanā (suggestion, manifestation) .12

Anandavardhana's defense of this third mode against the

attacks of the upholders of the various established schools of

linguistic philosophy is two-pronged. He attempts to show

that vyañjana, because its importance is confined largely to

poetic rather than ordinary language, lies properly outside

the scope of general linguistic philosophy.13 In addition,

he attempts to show that the theory of vyañjana does not truly

12Vyañjana is conventionally rendered as "suggestion" in secondary literature on Alamkarasastra in English. This translation, while it Anandavardhana's use of the term, fails to capture the more accords fairly well with

general meaning of the term as employed in other fields. As a technical term it appears to have its roots in Samkhya (cf. Samkhyakārika 10 and Vacaspatimisra's Sāmkhyatattvakaumudī thereon). It refers to the process by which a pre-existent but imperceptible entity becomes apparent; for example, when a lamp illuminates a pot placed in a previously darkened room. The term might be more accurately, albeit somewhat awkwardly, be translated as "revelation", or "manifestation". The conventional translation will be retained here, but these further connotations should be borne in mind. For a critique of Anandavardhana's application of the term in the realm of linguistic comprehension cf. Mahimabhatta's Vyaktiviveka (Kashi Sanskrit Series 121, pp. 80ff) and below Chapter Ten (pp. 478-481) .

13Although, as we shall see below (cf. pp. 216-221) , vyañjana plays a role in our understanding of expressions in ordinary language as well, Anandavardhana argues that the meaning conveyed thereby is separately intended (vivaksita) only in poetic contexts, and therefore tends to go unnoticed in ordinary language.

205

conflict with the theories of language advanced by the

grammarians, Mīmamsakas, and logicians, and therefore can be

accepted without any difficulty by adherents of any of these

theories. These theorists, being concerned either with

ordinary language or the language of the Veda, have made no

serious attempt to account for those linguistic processes

specific to poetry; the concept of vyañjana is introduced only

to explain these specifically poetic processes, and its

adoption thus need not conflict with theories of ordinary or

Vedic language offered previously.

The several varieties of suggestion manifested in

literature and the other arts are part of they everyday

experience of cultured persons (although they have not, before

Anandavardhana, been grouped together and described by a

single term) . The proper concern of philosophical

speculation, Anandavardhana contends, is that which lies

beyond our ordinary experience.

All the disputes of philosophers [tārkikānām] are concerned with something extraordinary, not with what is ordinary [laukika]. For they are not seen to disagree with one another about some entity which is perceptible to the whole world and which is uncontradicted [by any other perception], such as blueness, sweetness, etc. For, one who calls a blue thing "blue", when there is no conflicting perception, is not contradicted by another saying, "This isn't blue, this is yellow." In just the same way, the suggestiveness of all these -- of words, which convey an expressed meaning, of the sounds of a song, which convey no expressed meaning, and of gestures and so on, which do not consist of sounds at all -- is established by experience; who could reject this? Expressions and actions of various sorts which convey

206

some beautiful, non-verbal14 meaning, either in combination or separately, are seen in the assemblies of cultured people. What rational person, wishing to avoid ridicule for himself, would deny these things?15

The communication of unstated meanings plays an important role

not only in poetry, but in music and dance as well. The

capacity of words, sounds, and gestures to convey such

meanings is well known to all cultured people, and should thus

be accepted by adherents of all philosophical schools, just

as, whatever their metaphysical views may be, they all accept

the validity of ordinary perception.

This appeal to everyday experience, however, while it

plainly establishes the reality of the communicative processes

Anandavardhana wishes to designate by the term vyañjana, does

not conclusively demonstrate the need to postulate vyañjana as

a separate mode of signification. The poetic processes

referred to by the term vyanjana, although they have been thus

far neglected by philosophers of ordinary and Vedic language,

could possibly be accounted for as instances of one or another

of the well-known modes of signification dealt with by earlier

language theorists. Anandavardhana is forced to defend the

independence of vyañjana against the arguments of those who

would explain cases Of dhvani as instances of direct

expression (abhidha, vacakatva), of metaphorical/metonymical

usage (gunavrtti or laksana), or of inference which operates

14That is, not directly stated.

15Dhvanyaloka, pp. 446-7.

207

subsequent to the understanding of the expressed meaning of

the sentence in question.

The Differentiation of Suggestion from Direct Expression

It may seem paradoxical for an objector to assert that

dhvani can be explained as a type of direct expression

(vacakatva). The argument depends upon the view, common to

the grammarians and the Prabhakara Mīmamsakas, that the

complete sentence, rather than the individual word, is the

basic unit of linguistic expression.16

For the grammarians (chiefly Bhartrhari and his

16Anandvardhana seems to intend this argument to apply only to the Prabhakaras. At one point (pp. 443-4) he asserts that, since the concept of dhvani itself was drawn from the grammarians (who use the term to refer to speech sounds which manifest verbal meaning), there can be no question of a dispute with the grammarians over the existence of dhvani. But even Anandavardhana's staunchest defender, Abhinavagupta, realizes that this view is untenable. Like the Prābhākaras, the grammarians believe that complete complete sentence meanings by a single sentences express semantic process; Anandavardhana's theory of suggestion demands the existence of several distinct semantic processes, and so must be defended against the views of both grammarians and Prābhakaras. The arguments offered against the inclusion of suggestion within the scope of direct expression apply equally well to both -- (cf. Abhinavagupta's commentary [Locana] on Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 16 and 415-416, and below, Chapter Nine, pp. 444- 446). Abhinavagupta (Locana, p. 415) claims that this argument refutes the view of the Bhatta Mimamsakas as well, but in this he is clearly mistaken: the Bhattas would not explain Anandavardhana's suggestion as of direct expression and should be classified among those who would type

include suggestion within the scope of figurative expression (laksanā) -- cf. below, pp. 221ff) . Abhinavagupta asserts (p. 416) that the Bhattas regard the overall meaning of a sentence meaning as something directly expressed (vacya), yet we have seen (above, Chapter Three, pp. 115-117) that they believe sentence meanings (and, indeed, all meanings apart from the universal class-properties denoted by individual words) to be conveyed by a process of figurative expression.

208

followers), the sentence and its meaning are indivisible,

partless entities. The division of sentences into component

words, like the division of words themselves into

morphological components (stem, root, suffix, etc.), is merely

an artificial construction of language theorists, an

abstraction useful for purposes of grammatical analysis and

instruction, but not corresponding to any real division in the

sentence, which is conceived of as a metaphysical unity.

The Prabhakaras do not deny the metaphysical reality of

individual words, but contend that words are able to express

meanings only when construed in the form of sentences (the

doctrine of anvitabhidhana-vada -- cf. above, Chapter Three, p.

116). Human discourse, through observation of which we

acquire our understanding of language, is invariably conducted

in the form of sentences. By observing the use of words in a

variety of sentences we are able, by a process of abstraction,

to understand the semantic function of specific words, and

thereby to understand even previously unheard sentences.

Nevertheless, in practice these words are invariably employed

and understood as parts of complete sentences. It is

therefore, properly speaking, the sentence itself, rather than

the individual words, which expresses meaning (although the

individual words play a causal role in producing our awareness

of this sentence meaning) .

Thus for both the Prabhakaras and the grammarians it is

the sentence as a whole which expresses meaning. Given this

209

view, it becomes possible to explain even cases of dhvani

through an all-encompassing expressive function (vacakatva).

The opponent grants that Anandavardhana has established that

words may deviate from their ordinary meaning in certain

contexts; it is only to the characterization of such meaning

as suggested (vyangya) that he objects.17 If, as

Anandavardhana contends, the "suggested" meaning, in sentences

containing dhvani, is invariably the predominant meaning, it

is improper and indeed contradictory to describe this meaning

as anything other than expressed (vacya). The defining

characteristic of a sentence, as we have seen (cf. above,

Chapter Three, pp. 75ff), is that it is directed toward a

single meaning or purpose (artha). If the meaning conveyed by

dhvani is what the sentence as a whole is primarily meant to

convey, it is, ipso facto, what is expressed by that sentence.

The (hypothetical) proponent of this view argues as follows:

Where this ["suggested" ] is established as primary, it may meaning appropriately be termed vācya [expressed], since the sentence is primarily directed toward it. And therefore the semantic function of the sentence which reveals this meaning is only expressiveness. What need is there to postulate any other function [such as suggestion] for this sentence?

speaker's] intent, that is, primarily, what is expressed. Therefore, whatever meaning is the object of [the

Whatever intermediate understanding there may be of other expressed meanings in such a case is merely a means for the understanding of the primary meaning; just as the understanding of word meanings is merely a means for the understanding of sentence meaning.18

17Dhvanyaloka, p. 414.

18Ibid., pp. 414-15.

210

Anandavardhana himself earlier drew an analogy between

the understanding of sentence meaning from word meanings and

the understanding of suggested meaning from expressed

meaning. 19 When the meaning of the sentence as a whole is

understood, the meanings of its individual words are no longer

separately apparent. Likewise, once we understand fully the

intended meaning of a sentence, including any implied or

"suggested" sense, any intermediate stages of awareness or

"meaning" which have led to this understanding will be

displaced by our awareness of the meaning of the whole. Any

sentence must, by definition, convey a single, coherent

meaning. However complex the series of cognitions by which we

come to understand it, it is this final, complete, meaning

which is "expressed" by a sentence. Because every coherent

sentence, in poetry or in any other form of discourse, must

convey one and only one meaning, and because all discourse is

conducted in the form of sentences, we need speak only of one

all-encompassing semantic function, namely "expressiveness"

(vacakatva). There is consequently no need to postulate any

additional mode of signification, such as vyañjana, to account

for those varieties of poetic meaning designated by the term

dhvani.

This attempt to explain all semantic processes by a means

of a single, "expressive" verbal function cannot,

19Ibid., p. 100; cf. also above, Chapter Four, pp. 135- 136.

211

Anandavardhana contends, adequately account for the process of

verbal understanding involved in cases of dhvani.20 Given

that there are intermediate stages of understanding, in cases

of dhvani, between our hearing the words of a verse and our

grasping of its full meaning (including any implied or

suggested sense), one must necessarily accept that these words

perform more than one semantic function. Wherever such

multiple meaning-stages exist, some word (or group of words),

having conveyed its own meaning, further causes us to

understand some other meaning. For example, in the verse "The

moon, its disk obscured by frost and its beauty transferred to

the sun, does not shine, like a mirror blinded by breath, "

(cf. above, p. 199), the word "blinded" (andha), having

conveyed its literal sense, causes us to understand that the

mirror in question is clouded and non-reflective.

The communication of literal and non-literal meanings by

the same word or words cannot be attributed to the operation

of a single expressive function. In such cases we are aware

of two distinct, successive semantic operations. These two

operations differ both in their nature (rüpa) and in their

semantic content (visaya), and hence cannot be identified with

one another.21 Expressiveness is a property of words and

words alone, while even wordless songs and silent gestures may

be suggestive of some meaning (i.e. rasa). Given the

20Ibid., pp. 416ff.

21Ibid., p. 416.

212

possibility of suggestiveness even in the absence of any

expressive content whatsoever, the difference in nature

between these two operations is plainly apparent.

Even when these two operations do occur together, they

differ in the content they convey. In the previous example,

the word "andha" directly expresses only its own literal

meaning, "blinded". That further meaning which we understand

in this context, "clouded", is conveyed only by suggestion.

The first of these meanings is understood directly from the

word itself, the second only indirectly, depending on our

understanding of the first meaning and on the limitations of

context.

The expressive capacity of a particular word is its fixed essence [atma] , since it is seen to be invariably connected with that word beginning from the time that we learn it. But this [suggestiveness] is not fixed, since it depends on particular conditions. For this will be understood through the limitation imposed by factors such as context, and otherwise [i.e. in the absence of such factors] will not be understood.22

The word "andha" will always express its literal meaning, even

in contexts where this meaning is subsequently displaced or

supplemented by some further suggested meaning. Possible

suggested meanings of the word will be understood only

occasionally and in dependence on context, the presumed intent

of the speaker, and other factors apart from the word

22Ibid., pp. 436-7.

213

itself.23 The fact that words convey two sorts of meanings

(invariable and context-dependent) cannot be explained unless

we postulate more than one semantic function. Thus the

expressive and suggestive functions of words can be

differentiated on the basis of the semantic content they

convey, even in situations where both are operative.

The relationship between the expressed meaning of a

sentence and the suggested meaning we understand from it is

not, as the objector contends, fully analogous to that between

the meanings of individual words and of the sentences they

comprise.

The analogy of word meaning and sentence meaning does not apply to expressed and suggested meanings, since some wise people [e.g. Bhartrhari and the grammarians] contend that the understanding of word meaning is unreal, and since even those who do not admit its unreality [i.e. the Prabhakaras] 24 must accept that the analogy of a pot and its material cause [i.e. clay] meanings and word meanings. applies to sentence For just as, when a pot has been formed, its material cause is not perceived as something separate from it, in the same way, when a sentence or its meaning is understood, the words and their meanings are not perceived as something separate. If they were perceived separately, the understanding of the sentence meaning itself would be displaced [given the requirement that a sentence convey a single, unitary meaningl . But this analogy does not apply to expressed and suggested meanings; for, when the suggested meaning is understood, understanding of the expressed meaning is not displaced, since the suggested meaning appears along with the expressed meaning.25

23The argument is strongly reminiscent of Sabara's defense of the notion of secondary (metaphorical) signification -- cf. Bhāsya on Mīmamsāsūtra 3.2.1.

24Abhinavagupta, as before, includes the Bhātta Mīmamsakas as well -- cf. above, p. 207.

25Ibid., pp. 419-421.

214

Unlike word and sentence meanings, the expressed and

suggested meanings of a verse may be simultaneously and

distinctly cognized. When a verse, having communicated its

literal meaning, suggests some rasa, for example, our

understanding of this rasa does not in any way obstruct or

supplant our understanding of the literal meaning. A proper

analogy for the relationship between these two meanings would

be not that of word- and sentence-meaning (or of a pot and the

clay it consists of), but that of a lamp and an object

illumined by it. When a lamp is lit in a darkened room it

becomes visible, and further makes visible any other object in

the room, without itself ceasing to be visible. Likewise, our

understanding of the expressed meaning of a verse, even when

some rasa is suggested by means of it, does not itself cease

to be apparent.

This model of the suggestive process, however, raises a

further objection; if the expressed meaning of a sentence does

not recede from our awareness once its suggested meaning has

been understood, and the two meanings are therefore

simultaneously apparent, the sentence as a whole will be

incoherent -- will, in fact, not be a sentence at all.

The sentence would be simultaneously connected with two meanings, and if this were the case the sentence could not even be a sentence, since this has unity of meaning as its defining characteristic.26

We have seen that, for the MImamsakas, the necessary and

26Ibid., p. 421.

215

defining characteristic of the sentence is that it convey a

unitary sense. Any expression which fails to do so will

suffer from the fault of vakyabheda ("splitting of the

sentence" -- cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 85ff) .

Anandavardhana's response to this objection itself relies

on Mīmāmsā interpretive principles. The simultaneous

awareness of the expressed and suggested meanings of a single

sentence is acceptable so long as these two meanings are

integrated in a single purposive framework.27 When a

sentence causes us to understand both an expressed and a

suggested meaning, these two meanings will invariably be

related as primary and subordinate meanings of the sentence in

question.28 If the suggested meaning is predominant and the

expressed meaning is subordinated to it, the sentence in

question will be described as an instance of dhvani. If the

suggested meaning is subordinate and the expressed meaning

predominant (as in the case of alamkāras such as paryāyokta,

dīpaka, or rasavat -- cf. above, pp. 157ff), the sentence will

be described as an instance of gunībhūta-vyangya (" [poetry] in

which the suggested meaning is secondary") .29 Thus, the

27Cf. the discussion of visista-vidhāna ("qualified injunction") -- above, Chapter Three, pp. 89ff.

28Dhvanyaloka, pp. 421-422

29Anandavardhana classifies kāvya (poetry) into three broad types, based on the status of suggested meaning within it -- dhvani kavya, in which suggested meaning predominates, gunībhuta-vyangya kavya, in which it is present but subordinate, and citra kävya, in which there is no suggested meaning whatsoever. The first of these represents, for

216

simultaneous apprehension of expressed and suggested senses

does not vitiate the unitary character required for a coherent

sentence.

Anandavardhana contends that the Mimamsakas must accept

suggestion as a distinct semantic function not only to account

for the multiple non-literal meanings encountered in poetry,

but even to explain the distinction between Vedic and human

language.30 The crucial property of Vedic language is its The unfailing reliability, and the argument for the impossibility

of error in the Veda depends on its being impersonal

(apauruseya) and not the product of any author, either human

or divine. Falsity is always a possibility in personal

(pauruseya) language, due to some flaw in its author, such as

error or deceit. If a text has no author, there is no

possibility that it will be vitiated in this way.

We have seen that for the Mimamsakas the connection of a

word with its (expressed) meaning is necessarily eternal and

uncreated. If words can express only these eternally fixed

meanings, and if a sentence's meaning is purely a function of

the expressed meanings of its component words, there can be no

meaningful distinction between authored and authorless

Anandavardhana, the ideal to be striven for by contemporary poets as well as the norm in the works of the greatest poets in the past, and consequently receives the lion's share of his attention in the Dhvanyaloka. The latter two classes of poetry, because they diverge from this ideal, give rise to certain theoretical problems which will be considered in detail in Chapter Six.

30Dhvanyaloka, pp. 438ff.

217

sentences as regards their truth or falsity. If this

distinction is to be maintained, it is essential to postulate

some conditional (aupadhika), non-invariable semantic capacity

in words when they are employed by speakers or authors.

If this [conditional semantic function] is not accepted by the Mimamsaka, given the eternality of the connection

between between word and meaning, there can be no distinction impersonal and personal sentences in the communication of their meanings. [conditional function] is accepted, falseness will be However, if this

possible for personal sentences, on which another, conditional semantic function has been superimposed in conformity with [the speaker's] personal intention, even without the deviation of the words from their expressed meanings.31

When we hear personal (i.e. non-Vedic, non-authorless)

sentences, what we understand from them primarily is the

intention of the speaker who employs them. In support of this

claim Abhinavagupta (Locana, p. 440) cites a remark from

Śabara's Bhāsya on Mīmāmsāsūtra 1.1.2 (Ānandāśrama Sanskrit

Series 97 [second ed.], p. 18): "The understanding that arises

from a personal utterance is 'This person believes thus', not

'This thing is so.'" Such statements inform us not about the

true state of things, but about the state of mind of the

speaker who makes them. Any conclusion we draw about the

actual state of things based on such statements requires a

further process of deduction based on our estimate of the

reliability and competence of the speaker in question.

The speaker's expressive intent is not directly expressed

by the words of the sentence, yet it is understood when we

31Ibid., pp. 438-9.

218

hear these words and must therefore be regarded as part of

their meaning. Thus , if the Mimamsakas wish to maintain a

distinction between infallible, impersonal, Vedic language and

fallible human language, they must accept some context-

dependent, conditional semantic function for words in addition

to their expressive function. This conditional semantic

capacity is nothing other than suggestiveness.

This argument, however, gives rise to a further

difficulty.32 If this suggestiveness is a feature

necessarily belonging to all personal, non-Vedic utterances,

it can no longer be considered a special feature of poetic

language, as Anandavardhana has so far presented it. All non-

Vedic utterances would have to be regarded as instances of

suggestion.

While admitting that suggestiveness is a property of all

human language, Anandavardhana contends that in poetry this

function of language takes on a special and unique importance

which distinguishes it from the suggestive aspect of non-

poetic language. Dhvani is not coterminous with

suggestiveness. The suggested meanings conveyed by everyday

language, while they must necessarily exist, are not

ordinarily recognized separately from the expressed meanings

with which they co-occur. For example, if a speaker tells us

"There are fruits on the river-bank" (to employ a common

Mīmamsa example), we understand (by suggestion) that speaker's

32 Tbid., p. 441ff.

219

communicative intention (i.e. "This person believes that there

are fruits on the river-bank," or "This person wishes me to

believe there are fruits on the river-bank"). This kind of

suggestion is so much a part of the ordinary process of

understanding human language that it generally passes

unnoticed.

However, this is not the case in poetry. As we have

seen, the suggested meaning conveyed by a verse may actually

contradict its expressed meaning. In the verse,

Wander confidently, Monk; that dog [which frightened you] has been killed today by the lion who dwells in the creeper-bower on the banks of the Godāvari, 33

the expressed sense is a command that the monk should wander,

while we understand by suggestion that the speaker intends to

prevent him from so doing by frightening him. In such a case

the expressed and suggested senses, because they stand in

contradiction with one another, cannot but be recognized as

distinct meanings. Even where there is no such contradiction,

the suggested meanings conveyed by poetry are ordinarily

apprehended separately from the expressed meanings with which

they co-occur. Anandavardhana has already stipulated that the

term dhvani applies only to verses or works in which the

suggested meaning is predominant and the expressed meaning of

only secondary importance. This predominance in and of itself

necessitates that the suggested meaning in such cases be

apprehended as something distinct from what is directly

33Cited above, Chapter Four, p. 128.

220

expressed and thus serves to differentiate suggestion as it

functions in poetry from that type of suggestion which is

necessarily a factor in all human discourse.

Änandavardhana explains this differentiation between the

role of suggestion in everyday and in poetic discourse in

terms of the Mimamsa concept of vivaksa. 34 Sentences

employed in everyday human discourse necessarily convey a

suggested meaning, but this suggested meaning is not

ordinarily what is meant to be expressed (vivaksita) by such

sentences. To return to our earlier example, when one states

that "There are fruits on the river-bank, " what one means to

express is not that one believes or wishes one's hearers to

believe that there are fruits on the river-bank, but rather

that there are, in fact, fruits on the river-bank. One's

belief that this is so and one's intention to convey this to

one's hearers can be understood from the very nature of the

communicative act, but are incidental to the meaning one

wishes to express. Poets, by contrast, use the suggestive

capacity of language consciously and deliberately. The

suggested meanings they convey through their verses are part

of what is meant to be expressed (vivaksita) by these verses,

and in cases of dhvani, are by definition what is meant to be

expressed primarily.

This line of argument serves a dual function, defending

34Ibid., pp. 441-443. For the role of vivaksā in Mīmāmsā, cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 98ff.

221

the autonomy of suggestion (vyañjana) against the attacks

(real or hypothetical) of those who would subsume it under an

all-encompassing expressive (vacaka) function of language by

showing it to play necessary role in all human

communication, while simultaneously maintaining that it is a

function of language which becomes uniquely significant only

in the language of poetry. Thus the existence of suggestion

as a separate semantic function must be conceded by language-

theorists in general, but the detailed study of its nature and

function remains the special concern of poetic analysis.

The Differentiation of Suggestion from Figurative Expression

Anandavardhana's attempt to formulate a clear distinction

between suggested and figurative meaning is somewhat more

problematic than his effort to differentiate suggestion from

direct expression, and becomes a focus of considerable

controversy among Ālamkārikas in the ensuing centuries.

Indian linguistic philosophers had, for many hundreds of years

before Anandavardhana's time, accounted for the non-literal

usage of words (in both Vedic and human discourse) under the

general rubric of "metaphorical" or "figurative" language

(gunavrtti, upacāra, bhakti and/or laksana) .35 Suggestion,

as conceived of by Anandavardhana, bears certain obvious

similarities to such figurative usage. In both, words are

35Typically, the terms upacara and gunavrtti specifically denote metaphorical usage, and laksana non-metaphorical figurative usage (i.e. metonymy, synecdoche, irony), but all four terms are sometimes applied to figurative language in general.

222

employed so as to convey some meaning above and beyond the

ordinary, literal meaning with which they are invariably

associated. In both, the capacity of words to convey such

non-literal meanings depends on the context in which they are

used. Thus, an obvious course of argument for those objecting

to the introduction of vyañjana (suggestion) as a new semantic

function is to account for the non-literal, context-dependent

poetic meanings termed "suggested" by Anandavardhana in terms

of those concepts already developed in philosophical circles

to explain non-literal, context-dependent meanings as they

occur in non-poetic language

Anandavardhana, anxious as always to emphasize the

novelty of his theory and sensitive, as we have seen (cf.

above, Chapter Four, pp. 122ff), to the charge that he is

merely redescribing and renaming phenomena already known,

rejects any effort to include either dhvani or, more

generally, vyañjana within the scope of figurative expression.

The distinction between suggestive and figurative usage is

discussed at length in two passages of the Dhvanyaloka. The

first (kārikas 1.14-19 with vrtti [pp. 141-164]) rejects the

identification of dhvani in particular with figurative

expression, and does so primarily on empirical grounds, citing

illustrations of figurative expression which must be excluded

from the realm of dhvani and vice-versa; the second (pp. 423-

436 -- part of the extremely long vrtti on kārikā 3.33, which

considers and rejects a long series of philosophical

223

objections to the existence of suggestion) argues for the

differentiation of suggestion in general36 from figurative

usage, and examines in greater detail the mechanisms by which

suggestive and figurative expressions convey their meanings.

These two discussions, while they overlap to a certain extent,

raise slightly different issues, and will be treated

separately.

The argument for the differentiation of dhvani in

particular from figurative expression proceeds as follows:

Dhvani cannot be identified with figurative expression, nor

can figurative expression be regarded as a defining feature

(laksana) of dhvani, as these two modes of expression are

simply not co-extensive.37 Any attempt to define dhvani by

means of figurative expression will suffer from the flaws of

over-extension (ativyapti) and under-extension (avyapti) ; that

is to say, there are cases of figurative usage which cannot be

designated as dhvani and cases of dhvani which cannot accepted

as instances of figurative usage.

To illustrate the over-extended scope of figurative usage

with respect to dhvani, Anandavardhana cites numerous verses

in which poets employ metaphors or other figurative

expressions which, because they are thoroughly conventional

and add no special beauty to the verses in question, cannot be

36Of which, as we have already seen, dhvani is only a sub- type, albeit one of paramount importance for literary language as Ānandavardhana understands it.

37Ibid., pp. 141ff.

224

called dhvani. For example:

Wilted on both ends by contact with her swelling breasts and hips; fresh in between, not having made contact with the middle of her body; disarranged by the flailing movements of her creeper-like arms -- this bed of lotus petals tells [vadatil of the affliction of this emaciated woman.38

Here, the word vadati ("tells") is employed metaphorically;

the bed of lotus petals does not actually speak, but its

wilting where it has been pressed by her body and its

dishevelled condition make known to the observer the love-

fever of the woman who has lain there, and it can thus be

said, figuratively, to "speak". This metaphorical expression,

however, is merely a conventional manner of speaking, and the

beauty of the verse in no way derives from it.

Some figurative usage is so thoroughly conventionalized

that it may not even be recognized as figurative. The word

lavanya, for example, is used very frequently in the sense of

"beauty" or "charm", but its literal, etymologically derived

meaning is "saltiness". In c classical Sanskrit poetry,

however, the word is employed almost exclusively in its

metaphorical sense of "beauty", to such an extent that

"beauty" becomes, for all practical purposes, the primary

meaning of the word. Such "dead metaphors" obviously add no

particular beauty to an expression, being, in effect, no

38Ibid., p. 143. parimlānam pīnastanajaghanasangad ubhayatas tanor madhyasyantah parimilanam aprāpya haritam/ idam vyastanyasam ślathabhujalatāksepavalanaih krsāngyāh samtapam vadati bisinīpatrasayanam// (Harsa, RatnavalI 2.11)

225

different from literal usage.39

Anandavardhana would restrict the application of the term

dhvani to those non-literal forms of expression which lend

some special beauty to a verse.

A word which, functioning suggestively, reveals some beauty which could not be conveyed by any other mode of expression will fall within the scope of the term dhvani.40

Conventional and "dead" metaphors of the sort just exemplified

are thus excluded from the realm of dhvani. The existence of

figurative usage which cannot be included within the category

of dhvani establishes the over-extensiveness (ativyapti) of

the former with respect to the latter.

The under-extensiveness (avyapti) of figurative usage

with respect to dhvani is explained as follows: It is an

essential feature of all figurative expression that the

literal meanings of words employed figuratively should be

supplanted, rather than supplemented, by the figurative

meanings they convey (cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 109ff and

below, pp. 232-235). By this standard, the entire category of

vivaksitānyapara-vācya dhvani (cf. above, pp. 199ff) would be

necessarily excluded from the realm of figurative

expression.41 As we have already seen in the discussion of

the differentiation between suggestion and direct expression

39As Kumārila explains -- cf. Tantravārttika (on 3.1.12), op. cit., Vol. IV, p. 46 (also below, Chapter Seven, p. 330).

4°Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 146.

41Dhvanyaloka, pp. 151-2.

226

(above, pp. 213-214), Ānandavardhana explains the relationship

between literal meanings and the further suggested meanings

that arise from them as analagous to that between a lamp and

the objects illumined by it -- our awareness of the former is

not displaced by our subsequent awareness of the latter;

rather, we remain aware of both simultaneously. This in

itself is enough to demonstrate that there are cases of dhvani

which cannot be explained as instances of figurative usage,

and thereby that the latter category is under-extensive with

respect to the former.

Even where the two categories appear to overlap (as in

instances of avivaksita-vacya dhvani -- cf. above, pp. 199ff),

they cannot be identified with one another. For figurative

expression of any kind to take place it is necessary that

there should be some obstacle to our understanding a word or

phrase in its literal sense, as a word will always, insofar as

this is possible, be understood literally. Words used

figuratively, because they require some such obstacle to

prevent their being understood literally, are said to be

skhaladgati ("proceeding with a stumbling gait," i.e.

conveying their meaning by an indirect path) .42

In every case of figurative usage which is not purely

42Ibid., p. 148. The term skhaladgati is applied to words conveying a figurative sense by Dharmakirti (Pramanavārttika, 2.37 [ed. R.C. Pandeya, Motilal Barnarsidass, Delhi, 1989, p. 72]). I can find no other use of the term in this sense prior to Ānandavardhana.

227

conventionalized, there must be some motive (prayojana43)

which justifies the application of words outside of their

literal meanings. While our understanding of a secondary,

non-literal meaning in such a case is arrived at through

figurative expression, our understanding of the prayojana on

which this figurative expression depends cannot be so.

[Kārikā:] When a meaning is revealed by figurative expression [gunavrttil, bypassing the primary [i.e. literall mode of expression, the word figuratively] does not operate indirectly [skhaladgati] [employed

with respect to the result [phala] figurative usage is directed. toward which the

[Vrtti:] For, in such a case, if the word operated indirectly with respect to the purpose [prayojana] to be achieved -- namely, the revelation of some meaning such that it is characterized by a high degree of beauty -- then the use objectionable.44 of the word would in fact be

43Prayojana is understood here in a sense quite different from that in which the Mimamsakas explain prayojana as a necessary condition of figurative usage (cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 111-112) . expressed For the Mimamsakas, the figuratively must (prayojana) in the appropriate (ritual) context. It is this meaning have some useful application

criterion of usefulness that allows us to determine which of the many possible figurative senses of a term should be understood in any particular case. Anandavardhana and the Ālamkärikas who come after him understand the need for a prayojana in cases of figurative usage not as the requirement that the particular meaning expressed figuratively should apply usefully in the relevant context (this seems to be taken for granted), but rather that the resort to figurative expression itself should serve some communicative purpose (i.e. that there should be some reason for describing something figuratively rather than by a term which literally denotes it). While I have not been able to trace its history in any detail, this different understanding of prayojana is not original to Anandavardhana; Dharmakirti (c. 650) uses the term in this sense in his own commentary on Pramanavarttika 3.1 (ibid., p. 170).

44Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 149-50.

228

When metaphors or other figurative expressions are

employed in poetry for aesthetic effect (and not purely

through conventional usage, as in the examples given above),

their purpose is to impart some special beauty which could not

be achieved by literal usage.45 The indirection which

characterizes figurative expression depends on the existence

of some obstacle preventing us from understanding a word

literally, and on our circumvention of this obstacle by

concluding that the word in question is being applied to some

referent other than its literal one. Once we have understood

this figurative application, our further apprehension of the

prayojana of this usage, the beauty it imparts to the verse or

sentence in which it is employed, does not arise in a

45It is clear from the remarks just cited as well as from his later comments on the role of suggestion in poetically effective metaphors (pp. 432-436) that, for Anandavardhana, the prayojana involved in such figurative expressions is nothing more nor less than the beauty (carutva) they impart to the verses in which they are employed. Modern commentators (cf. De, History of Sanskrit Poetics, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 148; Ingalls, The Dhvanyaloka of Anandavardhana, p. 186, n.1), reading Abhinavagupta's and Mammata's understanding of prayojana back into Anandavardhana's work, generally take the prayojana referred to by Anandavardhana to be some further suggested content which the figurative usage causes us to understand. In the stock example gangayam ghosah ("A village on the Ganges"), the metonymical use of the word Ganges in the sense of "the bank of the Ganges" is taken to suggest that the village in question partakes of the properties of the river (coolness, purity, holiness, etc.), and the suggestion of these properties is taken to be the prayojana which justifies the metaphorical usage. There is nothing in Anandavardhana's remarks on prayojana to suggest that he understands it in this way; this explanation of prayojana (and this interpretation of the example gangayam ghosah) seems to originate with Mukulabhatta (cf. below, Chapter Seven, pp. 351-354 and

53.). Abhidhāvrttamātrka [Vidyābhavana Samskrta Granthamāla 165], p.

229

similarly circuitous manner -- there is no obstacle to our

apprehending it directly. If there were such an obstacle to

our apprehending the beauty of the expression, this would

constitute an aesthetic flaw (dosa) .46 The prayojana of any

figurative expression, because it is not stated directly and

cannot itself be understood through figurative expression,

must be conveyed by some additional semantic function, namely

suggestion. Thus in all cases of avivaksita-vācya dhvani

there are necessarily two semantic operations, one figurative

and one suggestive. In the example "like a mirror blinded by

breath" (cf. above, p. 199) the word andha ("blind") is

employed metaphorically in the sense of "clouded", "obscured".

The prayojana for this metaphorical usage is the beauty it

imparts to the verse, which is conveyed by suggestion and on

the basis of which the expression is regarded as an instance

of dhvani.47 Thus, even where dhvani and figurative

46As Abhinavagupta further understanding of the prayojana of a figurative expression were points out, if our

itself arrived at through figurative expression, this second figurative operation would require a prayojana of its own, and an infinite regress would result -- cf. below, Chapter Nine, pp. 438-440.

47Exactly why it is that such a metaphorical expression is more beautiful than a direct statement is something not clearly explained here (or, to my knowledge, elsewhere in the Alamkāra tradition), but it is a basic and largely unquestioned principle for many Alamkärikas that indirect or oblique modes of expression are, generally, to be preferred to direct ones. Cf. for example Bhamaha 2.84, and Dhvanyaloka on 4.5 [Vyaktiviveka, Kashi Sanskrit Series 121, p. 60]). Vakrokti (p. 533) (cited with approval by Mahimabhatta

(oblique or indirect expression) is put forward by Kuntaka as

Eight) . the basis of all beauty in poetic language (cf. below, Chapter

230

expression co-occur, they cannot be identified with one

another and must be recognized as distinct semantic

operations.

However, having argued in this manner for the distinction

between dhvani and figurative expression, Anandavardhana goes

on to assert that even if the identity of the two is accepted,

this will in no way invalidate his own enterprise, namely the

examination of dhvani with all its sub-varieties and the

consideration of its role in poetry.

[Vrtti:] And if it is said that "Dhvani is defined by figurative expression [gunavrtti] alone, " then the entire class of alamkaras -- apart from this [dhvani/gunavrtti] -- would be defined by the function of denotation [abhidhāvyapara] and the uselessness of defining the alamkāras individually would follow. And, furthermore,

[Karika:] If the definition of this has been made by others, then this is the very establishment of our view.

[Vrtti:] Or, even if the definition of dhvani has already been made by others, this is the very establishment of our view; since our view is that "Dhvani exists." And this has been established already [by those who have defined gunavrttil -- thus we have achieved our desired object effortlessly.48

The identification of dhvani with figurative expression in no

way impugns the possibility or the usefulness of

Anandavardhana's work. Anandavardhana has shown that certain

varieties of non-literal meaning (vastu, alamkara, and

especially rasa) are of central importance in the creation and

appreciation of great poetry; whether they are regarded as

being understood through an established mode of non-literal

48Dhvanyaloka, pp. 162.

231

signification, namely figurative expression, or through some

distinct, previously unrecognized, mode of signification,

namely suggestion, is ultimately of little consequence for an

appreciation of their role in poetry.

Thus, if it is contended that the non-literal meanings

understood by the process Anandavardhana calls dhvani are in

fact apprehended via the already well-known and generally

accepted process of figurative expression, this should be

regarded as bolstering,. rather than hindering, the

Anandavardhana's central contention -- that such meanings do

exist, and that they play a central role in the aesthetic

effectiveness of poetry.

The figures of speech dealt with by earlier Alamkārikas

(at least those which do not themselves rely on the processes

of suggestion and/or figurative expression) can be defined by,

and subsumed within, the primary, denotative mode of verbal

expression (abhidha). It does not follow from this that it is

useless for Ālamkārikas to define and illustrate these many

figures individually; these particular sub-varieties of

denotation, because of their special role in poetic

composition, merit individual attention. Likewise, the

several varieties of dhvani defined and illustrated in the

Dhvanyaloka, even if they are subsumed within the overarching

category of figurative expression, are worthy of separate

analysis, because of their central role in poetry.

Anandavardhana's provisional acceptance of the view he at

232

first set out to oppose shows a certain ambivalence in his

approach toward philosophically based criticism. He takes

great pains to argue for the differentiation of suggestion

from the figurative mode of expression already accepted by

most language theorists, but seems unwilling to rely entirely

on these arguments, and, despite the great effort he has made

to resist the inclusion of dhvani within the category of

figurative expression, argues that it doesn't really matter,

for his purposes, whether or not it is so included. This

divided and somewhat contradictory approach is repeated, as we

shall see, in the discussion of the distinction of suggestion

from inference (cf. below, pp. 242-243).

The discussion of figurative usage in the commentary on

kārikā 3.33 argues for the differentiation of suggestion in

general from figurative usage. Suggestion, Anandavardhana

contends, differs from figurative expression, just as it does

from direct expression (cf. above, pp. 211ff), in both its

nature (rupa) and the semantic content (visaya) it conveys.49

As we have seen, one of the distinctive features of

figurative expression is that it operates secondarily,

depending for its functioning on some impossibility or

impropriety in the primary, literal sense of the words used

figuratively. When we hear the expression "A village on the

Ganges" (gangayam ghosah -- a stock example of non-metaphorical

figurative usage [laksanā]), we realize that it is impossible

49Dhvanyaloka, pp. 423ff.

233

for a village to be literally on a river, and therefore

understand the word ganga ("Ganges") to refer, metonymically,

to the bank of the Ganges, rather than to the river itself.

All figurative usage, both metaphorical and non-metaphorical,

depends upon some such obstacle to our understanding the

literal sense of the expression in question. Because the

understanding of a figurative meaning from any word or phrase

requires the impossibility of its literal sense, figurative

meaning invariably displaces, rather than supplements, the

literal meaning of the word or phrase which conveys it.

Suggestion, unlike figurative usage, does not require any

obstacle in the literal sense i in order to function, and

therefore may convey a meaning over and above the literal

sense without displacing it. Ānandavardhana explains the

distinction as follows:

In figurative expression, when a meaning indicates [upalaksayati] another meaning, it is transformed so as to be identical with the indicated meaning, as in expressions such as "A village on the Ganges". In the case of suggestion, however, when a meaning reveals [dyotayati] another meaning, it is perceived as showing this other while still showing itself, like a lamp; as in expressions such as "ParvatI counted the petals on her play lotus" [cf. above, p. 202].50

In the example of suggestion given, Pärvati's counting of her

lotus petals suggests to us that she is embarrassed by the

discussion of her marriage to Siva, and this embarrassment

further suggests the srngära-rasa which it is the primary

object of the verse to convey. Here there is nothing at all

50Ibid., p. 424.

234

impossible in the literal meaning -- that Parvati is counting

lotus petals. The second meaning comes to mind not as a

suitable substitute for literal meaning which is

contextually impossible or incomprehensible, but rather as an

additional meaning that appears along with the first, literal,

meaning of the phrase in question without displacing it.

Likewise, this suggested meaning, Parvati's embarrassment,

without itself being in any way impossible or

incomprehensible, gives rise to a third "meaning" -- the

srīgara-rasa deriving from Parvati's love for Siva; here too

the suggested meaning appears along with the meaning which

gives rise to it, rather than displacing it.

So, the mechanism by which words, via their literal

meanings, convey figurative meanings differs markedly from

that by which they convey suggested meanings. The most

conspicuous features of figurative expression -- namely the

necessity of some obstruction to the understanding of the

literal sense and the replacement, rather than

supplementation, of the literal by the non-literal sense -- are

both absent in the case of suggestion. It is therefore not

possible to treat suggestion as identical with, or as a

subtype of, figurative expression.

If the term laksana51 is applied to cases in which one meaning indicates [laksayati] another without the awareness of itself being suppressed, then, this being the case, it would have to be accepted that figurative

51Here meaning figurative usage in general, rather than specifically non-metaphorical figurative usage.

235

expression itself is the primary function of words, since sentences, for the most part, reveal some meaning -- consisting of the speaker's intention -- apart from what is directly expressed by them. 52

The concept of figurative expression was devised to

account for extraordinary and seemingly aberrant usage. It

presupposes that words have a non-figurative sense in which

they are ordinarily used, and that the use of a word in some

figurative sense is thus the exception rather than the rule.

If figurative expression is understood so broadly as to

include what Anandavardhana would call suggestion, it becomes

a universal feature of human utterance rather than an

exceptional and aberrant mode of expression. We have already

seen that, for Anandavardhana, all human (i.e. non-Vedic)

sentences necessarily convey, in addition to their directly

expressed meaning, the communicative intent of their speakers.

If it is argued that this second, non-literal meaning is

conveyed by figurative expression rather than suggestion, then

the figurative use of words would be the norm, rather than an

exception. 53 Suggestion, then, cannot be identified with

figurative expression as it has ordinarily been understood.

52Ibid., p. 424.

53As we have seen (cf. above, Chapter Three, pp. 115-117) , the Bhatta Mimamsakas do, in fact, argue that all sentence meaning (both Vedic and non-Vedic) is conveyed figuratively. It is unclear whether or not Anandavardhana is aware of this contention. His objection seems to be based not on the logical impossibility of this view, but rather on the fact that it, counter-intuitively, deprives figurative usage of the exceptional character with which it is conventionally associated.

236

Having explained the distinction in nature (rüpa) between

suggestion and figurative expression, Anandavardhana goes on

to argue that they differ as well in the semantic content

(visaya) that they convey. Anandavardhana has identified and

illustrated three possible types of suggested meaning: vastu

(narrative element), alamkāra (figure of speech), and rasa

(aestheticized emotion). Among these, Anandavardhana contends

that no one has ever, or could ever, explain our understanding

of either rasa or alamkära as a kind of figurative meaning.54

It is true that rasa and alamkäras which are understood

without being directly stated had never before

Anandavardhana's time been explained under the rubric of

figurative expression. This resulted, however, not so much

from any insurmountable theoretical difficulty in doing so, 55

but because of the general bifurcation of literary and non-

literary language theory noted earlier. The theory of

figurative expression had been developed by MImamsakas,

grammarians, and logicians in the course of their

philosophical reflection on language. It sought to account

for the non-literal use of words in everyday or in Vedic

discourse. Rasa and alamkāra, as features of poetic language

exclusively, were unnoticed or ignored by non-Alamkārika

54Dhvanyaloka, pp. 425-6.

55As we shall see (below, Chapter Seven), Mukulabhatta, an early and influential opponent of the dhvani theory, advocates precisely the view here dismissed as impossible, explaining what Anandavardhana would call rasa- and alamkāra- dhvani as instances of figurative expression.

237

language theorists. Anandavardhana seems to take the silence

of previous theorists of figurative language on the status of

rasa and alamkāras not expressed directly as sufficient

evidence for the impossibility of explaining them as instances

of figurative meaning. He does not present any other argument

to justify their exclusion from the realm of figurative

expression. We shall see subsequently that this casual

dismissal is, at the very least, premature.

The analysis of cases of avivaksita-vacya dhvani, 56 in

which figurative expression and suggestion necessarily co-

occur, largely recapitulates the arguments given in the first

uddyota (cf. above, pp. 226ff), again stressing that it is the

beauty such expressions lend to the verses in which they occur

which distinguishes them from everyday or conventional

metaphors and which serves as the mark Of their

suggestiveness.

Avivaksita-vacya dhvani, although it depends upon the process of figurative expression [gunavrtti], is not identical with figurative expression. For figurative expression is seen even in the absence of suggestiveness. And suggestiveness cannot exist without some suggested meaning which is a cause c previously described .. of beauty in the manner But where this [figurative expression] does cause us to understand some beautiful suggested meaning, this will come about only through the introduction of suggestiveness, just as in the case of expressiveness 57

Our understanding of any suggested meaning is occasioned by

our prior understanding of some non-suggested meaning, either

56Ibid, pp. 429-436.

57Ibid., pp. 432-434.

238

directly expressed or figurative. In a case of vivaksita-

väcya dhvani, the co-occurrence of a suggested meaning with

the directly expressed meaning that gives rise to it does not

lead us to identify the two. Similarly in a case of

avivaksita-vacya dhvani, the co-occurrence of the suggested

meaning with the figurative meaning which gives rise to it

should not lead us to conclude that there is no distinction

between them.

That suggestion may operate in dependence on either

directly or figuratively expressed meanings is offered as a

further defense of its distinctness from both direct and

figurative expression.

Because this [suggestion] depends upon both of these [direct expression and figurative expression], it cannot be said to be identical with either. For, it cannot be identical with direct expression [vācakatva] because in some cases it functions in dependence on figurative expression [laksanā]; and it cannot be identical with figurative expression, established in dependence on direct expression. Nor is because elsewhere it is

it only because of its being a property of both [ubhayadharmatvena] that it cannot be identified with either, since it also exists as a property of sounds devoid of both direct and figurative expression. That is to say, suggestiveness having rasa as its content exists even in the sounds of a song; and neither direct nor figurative expressiveness is seen to belong to these in any way ... And thus in verbal usage there are three modes: direct expression, figurative expression, and suggestiveness. 59

Ānandavardhana thus claims to have established beyond doubt

that the poetic phenomenon he terms dhvani cannot be reduced

to or incorporated within either of the modes of semantic

58Ibid., pp. 427-429.

239

operation generally accepted by philosophers of language.

Since the process by which we understand, in cases of dhvani,

meanings not literally stated cannot be adequately explained

in terms of either of these well-known modes of signification,

it is essential that we postulate a third, previously

unrecognized, mode to account for such instances, namely

vyañjana

The Differentiation of Suggestion from Inference

There is, however, a further possible objection to the

introduction of vyañjanā as a third mode of verbal

signification. One might attempt to explain our understanding

of various unstated meanings in cases of dhvani as the outcome

of a process of inference (anumana), and thus avoid the

necessity of positing any such additional semantic mode. Our

understanding of such additional "meanings" then would not,

properly speaking, result from any mode of verbal

signification whatsoever. Rather, once we have understood the

meaning (whether directly expressed or figurative59) of a

particular verse, we arrive, by a further deductive process,

at an awareness of some fact (or figure of speech [alamkāra]

or aestheticized emotion [rasa]) which is not expressed by the

words of the verse per se.

59One might go so far as to explain even our understanding of figurative and directly expressed meanings as the result of an inferential process; the Buddhist logicians do so, and Mahimabhatta follows them in this respect (as in many others) - - cf. Vyaktiviveka, op. cit., pp. 80-81, 114ff; also below, Chapter Ten, pp. 476ff, 485-486.

240

Anandavardhana identifies this as the view of "those who

understand reasoning" [yuktivid] and "who believe that the

connection between words and their meanings is produced60"

(krtrimasabdarthasambandhavadin) .61 This seems to be meant

(as Abhinavagupta takes it) to refer to the views of both the

Buddhist logicians and the Naiyayikas; both believe the

connections between words and their literal meanings are

conventional; the Buddhists believe that these conventional

associations were established by human beings, the Naiyayikas

that they were created by God) .

What Anandavardhana calls "suggestiveness" is the

capacity of words to create in a hearer the awareness of

something above and beyond the meaning they explicitly convey.

This, the opponent contends, is nothing more nor less than

their ability to lead us to draw a certain inferential

conclusion.

The suggestiveness [vyañjakatva] of words is their ability to cause us to understand something [gamakatva], and this is the property of serving as an inferential mark [lingatva]; and therefore the understanding of a suggested meaning [vyangya] is only the understanding of an inferential conclusion [lingin]. Thus the relation between suggestive words and their suggested meanings is simply the relation between inferential marks and conclusions, nothing more. And this must certainly be accepted, since you yourself [that is, Anandavardhana]

6°Rather than eternal and uncreated, as the Mimāmsakas believe.

61Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 444.

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have just now62 explained that suggestiveness operates with respect to a speaker's intention [vaktrabhiprāya], and since the intention of a speaker is, in fact, inferred.63

Here, Anandavardhana's previous effort to show that

suggestion plays an essential, though undetected, role even in

non-literary language is turned against him. For the most

part, the sort of meanings Anandavardhana has resorted to the

theory of suggestion to account for are those which are unique

to poetry (rasas, implied figures of speech, and so on). As

previously noted, non-literary language theorists before

Anandavardhana's time, being concerned with the analysis of

either everyday or Vedic language, had generally ignored such

specifically poetic features of language. The question of

speaker's intention (vaktrabhipraya), however, had not been so

ignored; conventional, non-Alamkarika, language analysis would

explain our understanding of this communicative intent as the

result of inference64. Anandavardhana attributes a hearer's

apprehension of a speaker's communicative intent to the

process of suggestion and, in so doing, invites the objection

that this so called "suggestion" is nothing other than

62In the argument for the differentiation of suggestion from direct expression -- cf. Dhvanyaloka pp. 438ff, and above pp. 216ff.

63Ibid., p. 448.

64Or possibly, for the Bhātta Mīmāmsakas, arthapatti. In any case, the Buddhist logicians and the Naiyayikas, the theorists to whom these objections are attributed, would reject arthapatti as a distinct source of valid knowledge (pramana) and include it entirely within the domain of inference.

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inference.

Anandavardhana's first response to this line of argument

is to provisionally and hypothetically accept the inclusion of

suggestion within the domain of inference, and to argue that

this would in no way vitiate the central contentions of the

Dhvanyaloka (just as he earlier contended that the inclusion

of suggestion within the domain of figurative expression would

do no real harm to his theory).

But, even if this were the case [that suggestion is nothing more than inference], what harm would this do us? We have argued that there is a mode of verbal signification, distinct from direct and figurative expression, called suggestiveness. Even if it were as you say, there would be no damage to this thesis. Let this suggestiveness be the property of serving as an inferential mark [lingatva], or something different. In any case it will be distinct from the well-known verbal modes and will be t the object of the operation of words65 -- thus there is really no disagreement between us.66

However, just as in Anandavardhana's discussion of the

inclusion of suggestion within figurative expression, the

argument that acceptance of the opponent's view would do no

real harm is coupled with a determined effort to refute this

view. Immediately following the passage just quoted

Ānandavardhana says, "But it is not really the case that

suggestiveness is only the property of serving as an

inferential mark and that the understanding of a suggested

65That is to say, our understanding of the inferred meaning in such a case is a result, albeit not an immediate one, of our hearing a particular series of words.

66Ibid., pp. 448-449.

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meaning is only the understanding of an inferential

conclusion."

Anandavardhana's defense of a domain for suggestion

independent from that of inference begins with a very general

analysis of the content conveyed by language. 67 That which

we understand when we hear a speaker employ language is

broadly divisible into two categories: that which is inferable

(anumeya) and that which is to be communicated (pratipādya) .

The inferable content is the speaker's expressive intent

(vivaksā) 68; which may be further divided into two

components: the intention to produce sounds (which may be

inferred simply from the fact that the speaker is an animate

creature, whose observed behavior may be presumed to conform

to some intention), and the intention to convey some meaning

by means of these sounds (which may be inferred from the

speaker's utterance of a recognizable, meaning-bearing series

of sounds, i.e. particular words).

The communicated content of a speaker's utterance is the

specific meaning he or she intends to convey, and may likewise

be divided into two components: that which is directly

67Ibid., pp. 449ff.

68In admitting that the speaker's intention is inferable, Anandavardhana has of course already partly conceded the opponent's objection; his argument for suggestion as distinct from inference depends on the contention that not all suggested meanings are inferable.

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expressed (vacya) and that which is suggested (vyangya) .69

This intended meaning is not understood through a process of

inference.

This communicated content of words, of both varieties, does not by itself [svarupena] become apparent as an inferential conclusion, but rather [appears] by means of some other connection, whether artificial or non- artificial.70 The fact that this meaning is the object of the speaker's intent is understood, by means of his words, as an inferential conclusion, but the form of this meaning is not.

That a speaker intends to convey some meaning can be inferred,

but what he intends to convey cannot.

If the meaning of a sentence were inferred from its

words, Anandavardhana contends, no disagreement would ever

arise regarding the truth or falsity of verbal statements. If

a valid inferential mark (linga) is clearly perceived, there

can be no doubt regarding the reality of that which we infer

from it; to take the stock example of inference in Sanskrit

philosophical literature, if we see smoke rising from a hill,

and infer from it the presence of fire there, no one could

69Here the directly expressed content must be understood to include figurative expression as well! Ānandavardhana is somewhat inconsistent in his treatment of figurative expression, sometimes, as here, seeming to regard it as merely a specialized subvariety of direct expression (cf. also Dhvanyaloka 1.18 [p. 151]), at other times treating it as a third mode of semantic operation, distinct from both direct expression and suggestion (ibid., pp. 428-429).

70Artificial: i.e. created by either human or divine convention, as the Buddhists and the Naiyayikas (respectively) contend. Non-artificial: i.e. natural and eternal, as the Mīmamsakas contend.

71Ibid., p. 151.

245

reasonably dispute the validity of this conclusion. If words

served as inferential marks for the meanings they convey,

these meanings, as valid inferential conclusions, would be

similarly beyond dispute. 72

Thus, the connection between words and their communicated

content must be recognized as distinct from that between

inferential marks and the conclusions drawn from them. And

this applies whether the communicated content is directly

expressed or conveyed by suggestion.

The suggested meaning, being implied by the capacity of the directly expressed meaning [vācyasāmarthyaksiptatayal, is connected with words in the same manner as the directly expressed meaning. For the mediacy or immediacy of this connection is of no importance73 Thus, words operate as inferential marks with respect to a suggested meaning only when it takes the form of the speaker's intent; with respect to the meaning which is the object of this intent they

72The argument does not really hold water. It is widely accepted in philosophical circles that what sentences (or, at least, non-Vedic sentences) convey is not information about the actual state expressive intentions of the speakers who utter them; only by of things, but about the beliefs or

a further process of inference can we draw conclusions about the actual state of the world on the basis of linguistic reports (i.e., if the speaker is judged to be reliable, we may conclude that what he tells us is accurate) -- cf., for example, Pramanavarttika 1.3-4 Sabarabhasya on 1.1.2 (op. cit., Vol. I, p. 18 -- cited above, (op. cit., pp. 2-3) ,

p. 217), and Salikanāthamiśra's Prakaranapañcikā (Benaras Hindu University Darsana Series 4, 1961), p. 264. that either directly expressed or The view

inferential mark which allows us to validly deduce the meaning inferred suggested meanings are demands only that the sentence serve as an

or meanings the speaker wishes to convey -- it need not be sufficient to allow us to validly deduce the truth of this intended meaning.

73That is, of no importance for purposes of distinguishing it from the connection between an inferential mark and the conclusion drawn from it.

246

operate as toward [pratipādya] .74 something to be communicated

Anandavardhana has conceded the opponent's argument in part:

upon hearing any human utterance, our understanding of the

speaker's intention is arrived at by a process of inference

(although he still describes it as vyangya ["suggested"] ) .

Thus the domain of suggestion as Anandavardhana has described

it is partly reducible to inference -- but only partly. Apart

from the single exception of the speaker's communicative

intent, suggested meanings, being part of the communicated

content of language, cannot be said to be inferred. And it is

only the latter, non-inferable, type of suggested meaning that

is important for Anandavardhana's analysis of poetry.

Any human utterance will invariably lead its hearers to

understand that its speaker wishes to communicate something,

but this awareness is incidental to the communicated content

of this utterance; no instance of such an inferable suggested

meaning would ever merit the designation dhvani. Discussion

of the role of suggestion in our understanding of the

communicative intent of speakers in everyday, non-poetic

discourse was, Anandavardhana explains, introduced only to

convince the Mimamsakas that words must have some suggestive

capacity in addition to, and distinct from, their ability to

convey the literal meanings with which they are invariably and

eternally associated. So even if it is granted that suggested

74Ibid., pp. 452-453.

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meaning, when it takes the form of a speaker's intent, is

inferable, this will have no consequences for the analysis of

suggestion as it is deliberately employed for aesthetic effect

in poetry. It is dhvani that is of primary concern to

Anandavardhana, and in cases of dhvani the process of

suggestion, for the reasons given above, will not be reducible

to inference.75

Anandavardhana's Relation to Linguistic Philosophy

Anandavardhana's overall approach to philosophically

based criticism of the theory of suggestion is unusual in

several respects. We have already seen that in his encounter

with general linguistic theory Anandavardhana often proceeds

somewhat tentatively. In his discussions of figurative

expression and inference in their relation to suggestion he is

unwilling to rely totally on the arguments he has offered in

defense of the existence of suggestion as an autonomous

semantic function. In both cases, he couples his defense of

the autonomy of suggestion with the claim that this autonomy

is not, in any case, necessary; even if one accepts that

suggestion is merely a type of figurative expression or

inference, the existence of dhvani and its central importance

in poetry will not thereby be called into question. At the

75The concession Anandavardhana here makes that the speaker's intent is inferable would seem to totally undercut the argument earlier made that the Mimamsakas must accept vyañjana in order to account for our understanding of such intent in non-Vedic language, but no notice is taken of this difficulty by either Abhinavagupta. Anandavardhana or his commentator

248

conclusion of his detailed discussion of philosophical

objections to the existence of suggestion he returns once

again to this concessive approach:

Even if it is stubbornly asserted that this [suggestion] is included within these [already well-known modes of signification -- direct expression, figurative expression, etc.], nevertheless, if an examination is made of dhvani as a particular sub-type of one of these, in order to remove disagreement and instruct people of taste [sahrdayas], this should not be criticized. For merely by the definition of something in general one does not preclude the definition of specifics, when this is useful. If this were so, once existence itself was defined, the definitions of all existing things would become redundant. 76

Anandavardhana takes great pains to offer arguments which he

feels adequately establish the autonomous existence of

suggestion, but recognizes that these arguments are unlikely

to prove entirely convincing to the adherents of the various

existing language theories, and attempts to justify his

approach to the analysis of poetic language even in the eyes

of those who refuse to accept suggestion as a separate

semantic function.

Anandavardhana's defense of suggestion as a mode of

expression unique to poetic language (or, at the very least,

one which plays a significant role and demands analysis only

in its poetic applications) requires that he consider the

objections offered by adherents of various general, non-

poetic, language theories, but he manages to do so without

himself making a specific commitment to any general language

76Ibid., p. 457.

249

theory. He neither clearly adheres to, either as is or in

some modified form, any of the well-known language theories

offered by the grammarians, Mīmāmsakas (Bhatta and

Prabhakara), and logicians (Buddhist and Nyaya), nor offers

his own theory of everyday, non-poetic language. He takes no

stand on the major linguistic controversies of his day (e.g.

on whether the connection between words and their literal

meanings is natural or conventional, on whether words convey

their individual meanings before or after they are construed

as sentences [abhihitanvayavada vs. anvitābhidhanavāda],

etc.). Rather than attempt to articulate and defend a

particular theory of language, Anandavardhana endeavors to

show that adherents of any of the major current language

theories, if they wish to account for the poetic phenomena

Anandavardhana describes under the rubric of dhvani, must

accept suggestion as a supplement to whatever semantic

functions their theories already allow for. Thus he manages

to argue for the general acceptance of suggestion by all

language theorists while remaining aloof on those questions

which divide these language theorists among themselves.

It is also important to note that while Anandavardhana

contends that adherents of all language theories must accept,

in addition to the well known semantic modes of direct and

figurative expression, a third mode, namely suggestion, he

does not provide a detailed and specific account of the

mechanism by which words convey their suggested meanings.

250

The specific processes by which words convey their

directly expressed and figurative meanings had been analyzed

in great detail by earlier linguistic philosophers. In the

case of direct expression, philosophers had for many centuries

debated regarding the ontological status of the connections

between words and their literal, directly expressed meanings,

the origin (if any) of these connections, and the processes by

which new members of the linguistic community acquire an

understanding of them. While the various schools of language

philosophy differ widely in their views on these matters, each

provides some specific account of the nature of these

connections and the manner in which they come to be understood

and employed by members of the linguistic community.

The exact processes by which words convey figurative

meanings had been subjected to similarly intense scrutiny.

The Mimamsakas (whose account of the mechanism of figurative

expression seems to have gained widespread acceptance)

determined the necessary conditions which must apply for a

word to express a particular figurative meaning: there must be

some obstacle (badha) to our understanding the word literally

in a given context, the figurative meaning must be connected

with the literal one in some way, and the figurative sense

must have some useful application (prayojana) in the given

context. They attempt to specify the types of connection

which may obtain between the figurative and literal referents

of a word (similarity, physical proximity, part/whole

251

relation, etc.) .

Anandavardhana does not attempt to give such a specific

account of the necessary preconditions required for a word or

group of words to convey a particular suggested sense in a

particular context. His argument in defense of suggestion

proceeds, , rather, by process of eliminantion. If it is

granted that a particular verse or expression conveys some

sense above and beyond its literal one, and if our

understanding of this additional sense cannot be explained by

either of the well-known semantic modes (or by some extra-

linguistic mental process such as inference), then some

additional semantic mode must be operative in such cases.

Thus, by demonstrating the impossibility of accounting for

dhvani in terms of any of the recognized semantic modes,

Anandavardhana is. able to assert the necessity of suggestion

as an additional semantic function without explaining

precisely how suggestion works.

All these aspects of the treatment of philosophical

issues in the Dhvanyaloka serve to reinforce the impression

that these issues are in some way peripheral to

Anandavardhana's primary concerns, and are dealt with more

from necessity than from choice. Anandavardhana's insistence

that dhvani represented a previously unrecognized phenomenon

of poetic language (rather than merely a re-description of

phenomena already dealt with by earlier Ālamkārikas) led him

to argue for the existence of a previously un-theorized realm

252

of meaning, the "suggested". This posed a challenge not only

to orthodox Alamkārasāstra, but to linguistic philosophy as

well, as all existing philosophies of language claimed to

account fully and adequately for the phenomena of language and

none (currently, at least) allowed for the existence of

suggestion.

Because up to this time the Ālamkārikas' analysis of

poetic language had proceeded for the most part independently

of the analyses of non-literary language offered by the

philosophers, the agreement or disparity between their models

of language and those offered by general language theorists

was r not seriously examined. Anandavardhana, because he

introduces concepts and analytic techiniques drawn from

philosophical language analysis into the analysis of poetry

and thereby to a great extent bridges the conceptual and

terminological divide which had so far existed between

literary and non-literary language theory, is forced to

consider more carefully those respects in which his own model

of language diverges from those of various theorists of non-

literary language, and to defend this divergence against the

objections offered or likely to be offered by these theorists.

In his treatment of these objections, however,

Ānandavardhana tries to maintain a certain distance between

Ālamkarasastra and the philosophy of language. He employs the

techniques of philosophical language analysis in his own

examination of poetry, but does so without himself attempting

253

to become a philosopher of language. By defending the

existence of a mode of signification whose significance is

limited to poetic language, and, conversely, by refusing to

take any definite stand on the controversies that divide

language philosophers among themselves, he keeps the domain of

poetic language analysis separate from that of the analysis of

everyday and Vedic language. Anandavardhana's arguments

against the theorists of non-poetic language are not designed

to challenge or replace their theories of language, but to

ensure that, alongside these theories, a place is secured for

his own special theory of poetic language, and for suggestion,

the specially poetic mode of signification which it takes as

its object.

Prospectus

Ānandavardhana's arguments for suggestion as a new and

distinct function of language are, for the most part, totally

ignored by later philosophers of language. The one notable

exception is the great Kashmiri logician Jayantabhatta (c. 900

AD) . In his Nyayamañjari, after refuting the Mimamsakas'

arguments for the existence of arthapatti as a means of valid

knowledge distinct from inference, Jayantabhatta briefly

considers, and summarily dismisses, Anandavardhana's dhvani:

And by virtue of this capacity [samarthya] of words [to lead us to infer some unspoken meaning"], we may also

77On account of which, as Jayantabhatta has just explained, the supposed examples of arthapatti given by the Mīmamsakas can be explained as inferences (cf. Nyayamañjarī, ed. Gaurinath Sastri, Sivakumārasāstri Granthamālā, 1982, Vol.

254

exclude that "dhvani" which another person, himself wise, has accepted. thinking The understanding of a prohibition arises from a command, and awareness of a command from a prohibition: "Wander confidently, Monk ... 11 78 "Traveller, do not enter my house .. #f 79 In each case, it is the capacity of words -- which indicate the form of things which are qualified by some other means of knowledge [i.e. inference] -- which functions in this way.80 In any case, this discussion with poets is not appropriate; even learned people become confused in this difficult path of sentence meaning.81

For Jayantabhatta, Anandavardhana's dhvani is little more

than a minor variation on arthāpatti (which, for the

Mīmāmsakas, provides the basis for all types of figurative

usage), and requires nothing new by way of refutation. The

theory of dhvani draws his scorn, in large part, because of

its source. The analysis of sentence meaning and sentence

cognition poses serious problems even for dedicated

philosophers, and Jayantabhatta seems to regard it as

presumptuous for a mere poet to deal with such questions. The

1, pp. 67-68).

78Anandavardhana's first example of dhvani -- cf. above p. 128.

"I cannot definitely trace the source of this example; possibly a condensed paraphrase of Rudrata 7.41. In any case, it is meant to exemplify a common motif in single-verse compositons, in which a housewife whose husband is absent overtly sends away a traveller seeking lodging, but in such a way as to imply, covertly, that she wishes him to return in secret so they can make love.

80That is to say: words convey their own meanings, and under appropriate conditions these meanings allow us to infer other, unstated, meanings. Thus the words have the capacity, via an intervening process of inference, to convey meanings other than those with which they are directly associated.

81Ibid., pp. 76-78.

255

general silence of other philosophers on the question of

dhvani, even long after it comes to be universally accepted by

the Alamkarikas, would seem to indicate that they share this

dismissive and contemptuous attitude.

Within the field of Alamkarasastra, however, the

philosophical issues dealt with by Anandavardhana assume

increasing prominence in the ensuing centuries. The question

of the distinctness of suggestion from other modes of

signification becomes the major point of controversy in

Kashmiri Alamkārasāstra from Ānandavardhana's time to that of

Mammata (c. 1100 AD). Anandavardhana's more fundamental

innovation in the realm of Alamkarasastra -- the assumption

that in any aesthetically coherent poem all constituent

elements must be directed toward a single, overriding goal,

typically the effective communication of a single, predominant

rasa -- is, for the most part, accepted even by his harshest

critics. It is the more specific question of whether dhvani

is or is not explicable without positing suggestion as a newly

discovered mode of signification that increasingly absorbs the

attention of Anandavardhana's supporters and detractors during

this period.

Subsequent opposition to the introduction of suggestion

proceeds largely along the lines laid down by Anandavardhana

himself. Of the three major objections to the theory of

suggestion set forth in the Dhvanyaloka and briefly outlined

above, two find serious adherents among the anti-dhvani

256

Ālamkarikas. The inclusion of "suggestion" within the domain

of figurative expression is asserted by Mukulabhatta in his

Abhidhavrttamatrka, and Mahimabhatta, in his Vyaktiviveka

argues that all supposed cases of suggestion may be explained The as inferences. The argument for the inclusion of suggestion

within a single, all-encompassing expressive function

(vacakatva) has no adherents in the extant Alamkarasastra

literature, but is regularly re-examined and rejected by later

Ālamkārikas. 82

This increasing absorption in the philosophical issues

and arguments raised by the theory of suggestion shifts the

focus of attention in Alamkarasastra from the composers of

poetry to its audience. Both critics and adherents of

Anandavardhana are largely in agreement about the content

conveyed by poetry (both generally and in particular example

verses); it is the specific cognitive process by which one

understands this content that is disputed. Thus the efforts

of both supporters and detractors of the theory of suggestion

are directed primarily toward a careful analysis of the

psychology, and even the epistemology, of poetic

comprehension.

Although it is Anandavardhana's own importation of

philosophically derived models and techniques of language

82Both adherents and detractors of the theory of suggestion. Cf. Locana on Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 64-67, 413-422, 438-443; Vyaktiviveka, Kashi Sanskrit Series 121, pp. 137-141; Kāvyaprakāsa, Sārasvatī Bhavana Granthamālā 46, pp. 154-158.

257

analysis into the field of Alamkārasāstra that precipitates

this shift in focus from the process of poetic composition to

that of poetic comprehension, this transformation is somewhat

at odds with the approach to poetic analysis he seems to

strive for. We have seen that the greatest strength of

Ānandavardhana's teleological model of literary aesthetics is

that it provides, for the first time in the history of

Alamkārasāstra, a general criterion in terms of which the

appropriateness of particular elements of a poem (ranging from

individual phonemes to broad features of plot organization) to

the whole composition of which they form a part may be judged.

This creates important new possibilities in the area of

literary criticism and, as we shall see in the next chapter,

Anandavardhana himself expoits these possibilities by engaging

in critical analyses of existing works of Sanskrit literature

in a wholly unprecedented manner. This kind of literary

criticism is, for the most part, marginalized in later

Alamkāra literature, in large part because of the transference

of attention from processes of composition to processes of

comprehension.

THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO

THE TELEOLOGY OF POETICS IN MEDIEVAL KASHMIR

VOLUME TWO

A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO

THE FACULTY OF THE DIVISION OF THE HUMANITIES

IN CANDIDACY FOR THE DEGREE OF

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

DEPARTMENT OF SOUTH ASIAN LANGUAGES AND CIVILIZATIONS

BY

LAWRENCE J. MCCREA

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

MARCH 1998

CHAPTER SIX THEORY AND CRITICISM IN THE DHVANYALOKA

Anandavardhana's need to justify his departures from

Alamkārasāstra as it had so far been practiced, and

particularly to provide evidence for the previously

unrecognized predominance of rasa in poetry, leads him to

adopt a more empirical approach to literary analysis, quoting

and discussing the works of earlier poets far more frequently

and thoroughly than any of his predecessors had done. Because

his teleological mode of literary analysis requires that

particular features of a poem be evaluated not simply in terms

of their intrinsic beauty but in terms of their ability to

contribute to the intended effect of the entire composition of

which they form a part, his attention is directed, to an

unprecedented degree, toward the specific contexts in which

particular poetic elements are employed; that is to say,

toward specific literary works.

This shift toward a more empirical and more context-

dependent mode of literary analysis gives issues of literary

criticism a relevance they would not have had for earlier

Ālamkärikas, whose approach gave little or no importance to

context. The goal of these Alamkarikas was to identify,

define and categorize those discrete and isolable elements,

phonetic or semantic, which lend beauty to a verse (any verse)

in which they are employed. These elements could be

illustrated equally well with verses composed specially for

this purpose or with verses drawn from existing poems. A

258

259

verse illustrating a particular figure of speech could be

found in some well-known poetic work, but the source from

which it was drawn could have no bearing on its aesthetic

worth. If an illustration meets the defining criteria for the

figure in question it will be beautiful and give pleasure to

an audience, without regard to the context in which it is

employed. For these theorists alamkäras and other desirable

elements of poetry are valued for their intrinsic beauty, not

for their ability to contribute to some unifying aesthetic

goal within a work. Therefore, specific works of poetry are

of little interest to them serving, at most, as a fund of

potential examples

For Anandavardhana, however, the aesthetic value of

particular formal elements depends not on their intrinsic

beauty, but on their capacity to subserve the overriding

aesthetic purpose of the particular work in which they are

employed. Context therefore assumes a new importance in

Anandavardhana's literary analysis. The criteria by which the

isolable and definable elements of poetry are judged are no

longer internal to them; any phonetic or semantic feature can

be properly evaluated only with regard to the purpose of the

whole composition of which it forms a part. Thus for

Anandavardhana it becomes useful to examine and discuss

specific literary works, in a way in which it was not useful

for his predecessors, for whom the main object of

Alamkārasāstra was the analysis of abstracted, repeatable

260

elements which could add beauty to any and every composition.

Literary Criticism in the Dhvanyaloka

Although Anandavardhana's critical remarks on existing

literary works are relatively few in number, given the total

absence of such remarks in earlier Alamkarasastra, they

represent an important innovation and are worthy of serious

attention. For Anandavardhana, as his poetic teleology would

lead us to expect, the primary, indeed the sole, basis on

which elements of particular compositions can be judged is the

extent to which they heighten or diminish the primary rasas of

these compositions.

This establishment of a single, overriding criterion of

aesthetic value requires a re-evaluation of the status of

those rules of composition formulated by earlier aesthetic

theorists, both in Alamkarasastra and in the related but

separate field of Natyasastra (dramaturgy). It can no longer

be uncritically assumed that adherence to such rules is

automatically necessary or desirable. It is always with

reference to the standard of rasa-communication that an

author's adherence to such principles, or failure to adhere to

them, must be judged. This issue is confronted most directly

in Anandavardhana's discussion of the Venīsamhāra of

Bhattanārayana (c. 600-650 AD) .1

The Venisamhara is a drama in six acts which presents the

story of the victory of the Pandavas over the Kauravas in the

1Dhvanyāloka, pp. 336-40, 363.

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Mahabharata war. Its primary rasa is vira ("heroism"), but in

the second act of the play there is an episode of srīgāra-rasa

: the Kaurava king Duryodhana overhears his wife describing to

her servants an inauspicious dream in which she finds herself

attracted to a mongoose (nakula -- also the name of one of the

Pandavas) who leads her to a secluded place and undresses her.

Hearing this, and not realizing that it is only a dream being

described, Duryodhana flies into a jealous rage, believing his

wife to be involved with the Pandava Nakula. Before he has a

chance to confront his wife, her servants' remarks reveal his

mistake. Relieved, he approaches his wife and calms her fears

regarding the inauspicious dream, and an affectionate episode

ensues between them.

Anandavardhana regards the inclusion of this episode as

a flaw which detracts from our appreciation of the vira-rasa

which predominates elsewhere in the work, and sees this flaw

as the result of blind adherence to the rules of plot

construction laid out by Bharata in the Natyasastra, even when

these contravene the requirements of rasa. According to

Bharata, the plot of a nataka2 must contain five sandhis

("junctures") : mukha ("opening"), pratimukha ("unfolding"),

garbha ("sprouting"), avamarsa ("interruption"), and nirvahana

2The most elaborate and fully developed of the ten varieties of drama Bharata describes (cf. Natyasastra 18.10ff [Parimal Sanskrit Series 4, Vol. 2, pp. 302ff]), and the genre to which the VenIsamhara belongs.

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("conclusion") .3 For each sandhi, he gives a list of

sandhyangas ("parts [or subordinate elements] of the sandhis")

which should be incorporated within it.4 Among the

sandhyangas to be introduced during the "unfolding", Bharata

(19.59) lists vilasa, which he defines (19.76) as "desire for

the enjoyment of love".

As Ānandavardhana sees it, Bhattanarayana has introduced

an erotic episode in the second act of the VenIsamhara solely

to conform to the rule given by Bharata, without regard for

the primary rasa of his work.

This is another primary condition required for a work to be suggestive of rasa etc .: that the arrangement of the sandhis -- namely mukha, pratimukha, garbha, avamarsa, and nirvahana -- and their angas -- upaksepa ["commencement"] etc. -- should be made with a view toward the suggestion of rasa, as in the RatnavalI,5 and not merely out of a desire to fulfil the requirements of sästra, as in the

3cf. Nātyaśāstra 19.37-43 (ibid., Vol. 3, pp. 23-29) .

4Nātyasāstra 19.50ff (ibid., pp. 31ff) .

5A drama composed by the Harsa, king of Kanauj (r. 606-47 AD) and ruler of one of the largest empires in the history of South Asia. Anandavardhana does not demonstrate specifically the conformity of the sandhis and sandhyangas in this drama to the requirements of its primary rasa, and even the normally thorough Abhinavagupta remarks that to do so in detail would require an inordinately lengthy discussion, but the basic point is clear: the srgära-rasa which predominates is kept in view throughout the course of the play, and there is no irrelevant and digressive development of other rasas, as in the Venisamhara. We have already seen the RatnavalI singled out for particular praise for its insistent focus on the development of its primary rasa (cf. above, Chapter Four, p. 180): In the verse uddāmotkalikam ... (RatnavalI 2.4; "Having blossoms/longing which are/is unrestrained ... "), the poet's punning comparison of a blooming creeper with a beautiful woman is praised because it foreshadows the hero's love for another woman and his wife's jealous anger, thus furthering the development of the primary rasa.

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Venīsamhara, where the sandhyanga of the "unfolding" called vilasa is introduced in the second act, even though it is not conformable to the development of the contextually appropriate rasa.6

The generally accepted rules of plot composition are not to be

obeyed simply because they are the rules. Whenever it is

necessary for the full and unobstructed development of the

primary rasa, they must be abandoned.

Even Kalidasa, a poet revered by Anandavardhana and

nearly all other Ālamkārikas, is not spared from criticism

where his practice is seen to deviate from what is required

for the fullest possible development of rasa. Anandavardhana

regards Kalidasa's explicit description of the lovemaking of

Siva and ParvatI in the eighth sarga of his Kumarasambhava as

vulgar and therefore ultimately detrimental to the work's

6Dhvanyaloka, pp. 336-340. Abhinavagupta, apparently disturbed by Anandavardhana's suggestion that Bharata's rules should simply be ignored, explains the problem differently. Bharata defines vilasa as "desire for the enjoyment of love" (samīha ratibhogartha). According to Abhinavagupta "the words 'enjoyment of love' are used so as to imply those aesthetic factors suggestive of the basic emotion [sthāyibhava] belonging to the rasa appropriate to the context." (Locana, pp. 340-341). Rati ("love") is the sthayibhāva of srīgāra- rasa, the first rasa described in the Natyasastra and, in practice, the most common; Abhinavagupta understands it as meant to refer, metonymically, to any contextually appropriate sthayibhava. The rasa appropriate to the Venīsamhāra is vīra, and to fill the need for the sandhyanga vilasa, the author ought to have constructed an episode to excite the basic emotion appropriate to this rasa, rather than one appropriate to śrīgara-rasa, as he has done. His fault is thus not that he follows Bharata's rule where he should not, but rather that he misunderstands and misapplies the rule. Through this interpretation Abhinavagupta the Bharata's rules; however, there is nothing to indicate that upholds authority of

Anandavardana (or Bharata, for that matter) understood vilāsa in this way.

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capacity to evoke rasa.

Änandavardhana's observations on this flaw arise out of

a more general discussion of character type and the

appropriateness of particular actions and emotional states to

particular types of character. He regards such

appropriateness as an important condition for a work's ability

to convey rasa. For Anandavardhana character type (prakrti)

is divisible into three broad classes -- high, middle, and low

(uttama, madhyama, and adhama),7 and further into human and

divine. It is important that characters be consistently

treated as of one type or another.

A sthayibhava constructed so as to consistently conform to this [character type] will become appropriate. Otherwise, if the determination [utsaha] etc. [i.e. the sthäyibhavas] of a divine hero are portrayed by relying on purely human actions, or if those of a merely human hero are portrayed by relying on purely divine actions, they will become inappropriate. And thus, in the description of a purely human hero such as a king, if actions such as leaping across even if they the seven oceans are portrayed, are beautiful, they will certainly be devoid of rasa; and the reason for this is their inappropriateness.

The portrayal of deeds of heroism and the of the determination

and energy out of which they arise is the means by which vira-

rasa is conveyed, but if these deeds are not appropriately

matched with the type of character who performs them they will

7Here he is following Bharata, who discusses these three classes of character in the twenty-fourth chapter of Nātyasāstra (op. cit., Vol. 3, pp. 241ff) . The hierarchy of high, middle and low carries both moral and class connotations.

8Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., p. 330.

265

not convey this rasa effectively. The description of a purely

human character leaping over oceans is so implausible as to

impair the vira-rasa it is meant to enhance.

The problem with the Kumarasambhava is, in

Anandavardhana's view, basically similar.9 It is not that the

explicit description of lovemaking per se is objectionable,

but rather that the description of divine characters engaged

in such actions is inappropriate and hence injurious to rasa.

A potential objection is raised, however, to the

extension of the dichotomy between human and divine character

type from the realm of heroism to that of love.

If [as you sayl an examination is somehow to be made of appropriateness to human or divine character types in the description of heroic determination [utsäha] etc., then let it be made; but in the case of love [rati] what can be the use of such an examination? For love, even for the gods, can be described only by means of conduct which is appropriate to Bhäratavarsa [i.e. South Asia] .10

In the case of heroism, there is a clear distinction between

the actions of which gods and mere humans are capable, and

this distinction makes possible inappropriateness of the kind

Ãnandavardhana has described. In the case of love, there is

no such apparent distinction between human and divine modes of

action; as we have no knowledge of any specifically divine

'Ānandavardhana does not mention the Kumarasambhava by name in this passage, but in an earlier portion of the text (vrtti on 3.6; Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 317-318) he refers to the impropriety of the description of Parvati's lovemaking in the Kumarasambhava and says he will explain this impropriety later -- clearly referring to this passage.

10Ibid., p. 332.

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mode of conduct in such matters, one has no recourse but to

describe the love-play of the gods in the same way one would

that of humans.

Ānandavardhana concedes that there is no special mode of

action appropriate to the description of divine lovemaking;

this does not, however, mean that appropriateness and

inappropriateness have no place in the consideration of such

description. One must, indeed, describe the love-play of

divine characters as one would that of human ones; in doing

so, however, one should be careful to treat these divine

characters as if they were human characters of the highest

type (uttama-prakrti).

We do not that there is some different appropriateness relating to divine characters. What say

then? The description of srngara belonging even to divine characters will be beautiful if made as one would do in the case of the highest sort of heroes -- kings and so on -- in Bharatavarsa. Common, vulgar description of srīgara, in the case of kings and so on, is not found in drama; thus, it should be avoided in the case of the gods. If you say that it is only to be avoided in such cases because drama is to be enacted [abhineya] [rather than merely recited], and because enactment which has love-in-union [sambhoga-śrīgāra] vulgar, we reject this: if an enactment having such a as its subject is

subject is vulgar, what prevents a [recited] poem having such a subject from being vulgar? Thus in any poem, whether it is to be enacted or not, the vulgar description of the sexual union of heroes of the highest type, such as kings, with heroines of the highest type, will necessarily be vulgar, just as the description of the sexual union of one's parents would be vulgar. The case is just the same for [description of sexual union] having the highest gods as its subjects.11

Thus, Kalidasa's description of the lovemaking of Siva and

llIbid., p. 332.

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ParvatI is vulgar, inappropriate for characters of the highest

type, and, ultimately, detrimental to the work's capacity to

convey rasa. That the Kumarasambhava is a purely verbal

product, rather than a drama to be presented visually before

an audience, in no way mitigates this vulgarity. So,

appropriateness of action and emotion to character type is

necessary in works conveying srīgära-rasa, just as in those

conveying vira-rasa.

Even when the poet relates an existing story, rather than

inventing his own, his construction of plot must be guided by

the requirements of rasa, not simply by unthinking

faithfulness to the course of the story as it is known. As a

general rule, Anandavardhana argues that poets, when drawing

on histories or other existing bodies of narrative for their

plots, ought not to tamper with their sources. He quotes with

approval from the prologue of Yasovarman's Ramabhyudaya the

dramatist's claim that in his play there is "not even a slight

deviation in the course of the story. "12 The epics and other

historical sources are themselves rich with rasa, and a poet

should select from these sources episodes or stories which

will convey a desired rasa

However, whenever any element in such a story conflicts

with the rasa the poet wishes to convey, it must be removed,

12Dhvanyaloka, p. 335. The play itself is not extant. Abhinavagupta notes the source of the quotation, and the full verse is quoted by Bhoja in his Śrngaraprakasa (cf. Raghavan, Bhoja's Srīgaraprakasa [Madras: Punarvasu, third ed., 1978], p. 393).

268

and newly invented elements must, if necessary, be added to

the familiar story so as to heighten this rasa.

Anandavardhana offers several examples of poems in which known

stories have been altered in accordance with the needs of

rasa: the works of Kalidasa, Sarvasena's Harivijaya, and

Anandavardhana's own Arjunacarita.13

Kalidāsa frequently takes liberties with his (usually

epic) sources, and Anandavardhana does not specifically

indicate what changes he has in mind. Abhinavagupta,

commenting on the passage, mentions Kalidāsa's description, in

the Raghuvamsa, of the marriage Rama's grandfather Aja and of

various other exploits of Rama's predecessors and successors

which are not described in the epics. This deals only with

Kālidāsa's additions to and not alterations of the stories he

retells, and overlooks what is surely his most notable

departure from his epic sources: the replacement, in his

Abhijñanasākuntala, of Dusyanta's deliberate rejection of

Sakuntalā (whom he has secretly married, and who carries his

unborn child), with the story of a curse which causes him to

forget her. 14

The latter two works mentioned by Anandavardhana are not

extant, and as he does not specifically explain the ways in

13Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 335-336.

14Kuntaka, in his Vakroktijivita, discusses in detail this transformation of the epic story of Sakuntala and Kalidasa's reasons for introducing it (cf. VakroktijIvita, Dharwar ed., pp. 249-251, and below, Chapter Eight, pp. 410-411) .

269

which these poems' plots deviate from their sources, we are

dependent on Abhinavagupta's comments for information on these

works. "In the Harivijaya, " we are told, "acts such as the

theft of [Indra's] Parijata-tree are described as part of

[Krsna's] placating of his beloved, although not found in the

histories. Likewise, in the Arjunacarita, acts such as

Arjuna's conquest of the netherworld are described, although

not known from the histories. "15

Seen in the light of Anandavardhana's rasa-centered

poetic teleology, faithfulness to one's sources can have no

independent value. Where the plot of one's source narrative

effectively evokes the desired rasa one should adhere to it;

where an addition or alteration will heighten rasa one should

change it without compunction.

The poet, when composing a poem, dependent [paratantra] on rasa. should be totally If he sees in his story any element not suitable for this rasa then he should eliminate this and independently devise narrative element which is suitable for this rasa. For, some other

there is no use in a poet's merely rehearsing a historical plot, since this is accomplished by the

15Ibid., pp. 335-336. As Ingalls notes (The Dhvanyaloka of Anandavardhana, p. 436, n. 2) the story of Krsna's theft of the Parijata is found in most manuscripts of the Harivamsa, but is absent from the Sarada manuscripts of Kashmir as well as several of the Malayalam-script manuscripts (and is, on these grounds, excluded from the Critical Edition of the text). Abhinavagupta may be mistaken in regarding this as an innovation on the part of Sarvasena, who may have known a version of the Harivamsa containing this story, or, as Ingalls suggests, Sarvasena's innovation may have crept back into some versions of the Harivamsa; in any case, as versions of the Harivamsa containing this story seem to have been unknown in Kashmir, Abhinavagupta is presumably correct in taking this to be the alteration to which Anandavardhana refers.

270

historical source itself.16

Such alteration of well-known narratives so as to more

effectively convey particular rasa is not merely

theoretically desirable, but can be shown, by examples such as

those mentioned above, to be part of the practice of actual

poets.

Even a casual survey, such as we have just made, of the

more prominent literary critical observations to be found in

the Dhvanyaloka is sufficient to demonstrate that a radical

shift has taken place in the attitude of poetic analysis

toward actual poetry. Even references by name to actual works

and authors are extremely rare in prior Alamkära

literature.17 Critical observations of the sort

Anandavardhana makes, either positive or negative, are totally

unknown before the Dhvanyaloka. Anandavardhana's approach to

literary analysis is thus far more empirically oriented than

that of his predecessors; while he is certainly concerned,

like them, to reach general conclusions regarding the nature

and function of poetry as whole and of its constituent

elements, he pays careful attention, in a way that they did

not, to the application of these conclusions to the

interpretation and criticism of poetry in particular cases.

16Dhvanyaloka, p. 336.

17There are a few exceptions -- in several instances Bhamaha names the author of an example verse or gives the title of the work from which it is drawn, and Dandin (1.34) mentions Pravarasena's Setubandha by name.

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This new, empirical orientation, while it allows

Anandavardhana to showcase the unprecedented analytical and

critical possibilities which his teleological, rasa-centered

model of poetry allows for, also makes apparent a major

problem with this model as applied to actually existing s a

literature: that there exists a significant body of poetry in

which the communication of rasa simply is not the primary

object of the poet. The great strength of Anandavardhana's

model of poetry is its ability to provide a general criterion

for aesthetic value in literature, in terms of which

particular prescriptions regarding composition may be

explained and justified and existing compositions may be

evaluated. As we shall see, in the case of poetry which does

not have rasa as its telos, this explanatory and evaluative

power simply disappears.

Gunībhūtavyangya- and Citra-kāvya

Ānandavardhana has made two major innovations in poetic

theory which provide the basis for his model of poetry: he has

argued for the existence in poetry of a heretofore

unrecognized level of suggested (vyangya) meaning distinct

from its directly expressed (vacya) meaning, and he has

introduced a Mimamsa-derived, teleological method of text

analysis which requires that any coherent text be directed

toward a single, predominant element, to which all of its

parts are ultimately subordinate. Dhvani, the type of poetry

with which Anandavardhana is primarily concerned, is defined

272

as poetry in which suggested meaning both exists and is

predominant. But the two basic postulates of his poetic

theory allow for three logically possible classes of poetry

(taking the status of suggested meaning as the basis for

classification). Poetry may or may not convey a suggested

meaning in addition to its expressed sense; if it does so,

this suggested sense may be subordinated to the expressed

sense or may be predominant with respect to it.

Änandavardhana accepts that these three classes are not

only theoretically possible but actually represented in

existing literature. The first type, in which suggested

meaning both exists and is predominant, is, of course, dhvani.

The second, in which suggested meaning is present but is

subordinated to the expressed meaning, is termed

gunībhutavyangya-kavya ("poetry in which the suggested meaning

is subordinate [gunibhuta] "). The third, in which there is no

suggested sense whatsoever, he calls citra-kavya ("flashy

poetry" or "picture-poetry"). As we have seen (above, Chapter

Four, p. 132), Anandavardhana strives to show that rasa has

played a central role in poetry from its very origins; for

him, much if not most great poetry has the communication of

rasa as its primary object, and hence may be classified as

dhvani-kāvya. He does not, however, go so far as to contend

that all poetry has this as its object. He acknowledges that

both gunībhūtavyangya- and citra-kavya form a part of the

poetic tradition as it is known to him, and is ultimately

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unwilling, despite his professed preference for dhvani-kāvya,

to unqualifiedly dismiss either of these other types as

necessarily deficient (though, as we shall see, he comes close

to doing so in the case of citra).

Gunībhūtavyangya, unlike dhvani, is a negatively defined,

catch-all category. A verse containing some suggested meaning

may for any of a variety of reasons fail to meet

Anandavardhana's criteria for a true instance of dhvani, and

whenever it does so it is to be considered a case of

gunībhutavyangya. The primary condition for the subordination

of a suggested meaning, the one mentioned by Anandavardhana in

his definition of gunībhutavyangya, is that the directly

expressed meaning should be more beautiful than it.18 A

verse conveying a suggested meaning should also be regarded as

gunībhūtavyangya if this suggested meaning is unclear.19

Likewise, if the suggested meaning of a verse is explicitly

referred to or mentioned, as in the following example:

Knowing that her lover was considering what time they should meet, the clever woman closed her play lotus, giving him a hint with laughing eyes.20

18Dhvanyaloka, p. 458. The standard of "beauty" is, of course, thoroughly subjective, and its usefulness as a criterion for distinguishing between dhvani- and gunībhutavyangya-kavya is challenged in later Alamkarasastra, particularly by Mahimabhatta (cf. Vyaktiviveka, pp. 160-168 and below, Chapter Ten, pp. 488ff).

19Dhvanyaloka, op. cit., pp. 281ff.

20Ibid., pp. 250, 461. samketakālamanasam vitam jñātvā vidagdhayā/ hasannetrārpitākūtam iīlāpadmam nimīlitam//

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Here, the closing of the play lotus suggests that the woman

intends to meet her lover at sunset, when the lotuses close;

because the poet explicitly states that this action is meant

to convey such a hint to her lover, the verse must be regarded

as gunībhutavyangya, rather than as a true case of dhvani.

Similarly, where sọme particular intonation (kāku)

provides a cue which helps an audience to understand the

suggested meaning of a verse, the verse should be regarded as

gunībhutavyangya rather than dhvani. For example:

Having struck at our lives and our masses of wealth by the burning of the lacquer house, by poisoned food, by entering the gambling-assembly, and having pulled at the clothes and the hair of the wife of the Pandavas, do the sons of Dhrtarastra live confidently, while I am alive?21

The verse is spoken by Bhimasena, second eldest of the

Pandavas, angered by his older brother Yudhisthira's efforts

to make peace with the sons of Dhrtarastra and by hearing an

actor speaking a verse he believes to be a blessing for them.

There are no explicit verbal cues in the verse which indicate

that the verse is intended ironically, but the context makes

it perfectly clear that this is so, and in performance an

actor reciting the verse would ordinarily convey this ironic

21Tbid., pp. 477-8. lāksāgrhānalavisānnasabhāpravesaih prānesu vittanicayesu ca nah prahrtya/ akrsya pandavavadhuparidhanakesān svastha bhavanti mayi jīvati dhārtarāstrāh// (Bhattanārāyana, Venīsamhāra 1.8) Anandavardhana quotes only the final pada of the verse ("Do the sons of Dhrtarastra ...? ), the portion in which suggestive intonation would be employed.

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intent by means of intonation. Thus the ironic intent of the

verse, although it is suggested by the context and the

character of the speaker, is, in performance, more explicitly

indicated by the actor's use of a particular tone of voice.

Just as when there is an explicit verbal reference to the

suggested sense of a verse, when the intonation used in

recitation indicates a suggested sense in this way, it must be

regarded as an instance of gunībhūtavyangya.

Thus there are several essentially unrelated criteria by

which a verse containing a suggested meaning may fail to

attain the status of dhvani and consequently be classified as

gunībhutavyangya.

Gunībhutavyangya as Anandavardhana defines it is a very

broad category -- broad enough to include within it virtually

all of the alamkāras whose definition and classification

absorbed most of the attention of earlier Alamkārikas. As we

have already seen (cf. above, Chapter Four, pp. 157ff),

Anandavardhana concedes that previous Alamkarikas have, in the

course of examining various figures of speech, dealt with all

three possible varieties of suggested meaning -- vastu (in

figures such as samāsokti, paryāyokta, etc.), alamkāra (in

figures such as rupaka and sasamdeha, which suggest an

unstated simile), and rasa (in figures such as rasavat,

preyasvat, etc.) -- albeit without recognizing these as

instances of the general phenomenon of suggestion. He argues

nevertheless that dhvani lies entirely outside the scope of

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their poetic analyses. It is his contention that in the

instances of suggestion they have dealt with the suggested

meaning is invariably subordinated to the directly expressed

meaning. Therefore, all such figures can be subsumed within

the category of gunībhutavyangya.

The relegation of these alamkaras to the realm of

gunībhūtavyangya grew out of Anandavardhana's need to

establish the existence of dhvani as a type of poetry which

could not be adequately explained within the existing

categories of Alamkarasāstra, and which consequently demanded

the formulation of a new mode of poetic analysis. When,

toward the end of the third uddyota of the Dhvanyaloka,

Anandavardhana turns to examine gunībhutavyangya in more

detail, he carries the argument further. It is not simply

that there are a few selected alamkaras which can be included

within the scope of gunibhūtavyangya; virtually all alamkāras

can be shown, in most cases, to convey some suggested meaning,

and hence to be so included.

Like dīpaka, samāsokti, etc., other alamkāras also can be seen, for the most part, to touch on some suggested meaning, either another alamkāra or a vastu; since, first of all, all alamkāras can be made to contain the [suggested] alamkāra atisayokti ("hyperbole") .22

Ideally, all figures ought to contain some measure of

hyperbole or overstatement -- it is on their deviation from the

ordinary that the beauty of such modes of expression depends.

This assertion of the central role of hyperbole in figurative

22Ibid., pp. 464-5.

277 usage is not new to Anandavardhana, and he cites Bhamaha's remarks on atisayokti in support of his position. "All oblique [atisayokti]; meaning is intensified [vibhāvyate] by expression [vakrokti23] is just this this. A poet should make a great effort with respect to this -- what alamkara can exist without it?" -- Here the meaning that should be understood is this: an alamkāra in which atisayokti resides, due to the imaginative power [pratibhal of the poet, will possess a high degree of beauty; any other will be mere [alamkāramātra]. ornament Thus, because of its suitablity for incorporation in all alamkaras24, this [ [atiśayokti] is said, by figurative non-differentiation [abhedopacāra], to be identical with all alamkāras. 25 All alamkaras, when employed by an imaginative poet, can and should incorporate some element of hyperbole. This hyperbole may be explicitly stated, but will ordinarily be understood via suggestion. Whenever this is so, the alamkara in question will be included within the scope of gunībhūtavyangya (if the suggested hyperbole were not subordinate to the expressed figure which suggests it, this figure could not properly be considered an alamkära at all, but would rather be regarded as an instance of dhvani).

23Here referring not to a particular alamkāra (as in many later authors [eg. Vamana, Kavyalamkarasūtra 4.3.8; Rudrata, Kāvyalamkara 2.14-17; Mammata, Kavyaprakasa 9.1]), but to that indirect or out-of-the-ordinary character which is, or ought to be, common to all poetic usage. 24It would seem that these and the following remarks on the suggestion of atisayokti by other alamkaras ought to be restricted to arthalamkāras (meaning-based figures) alone -- it is hard to see how sabdālamkāras (sound-based figures) such as alliteration (anuprasa) or rhyme (yamaka) could ever be said to suggest the figure atisayckti -- but neither Anandavardhana nor Bhamaha explicitly so restricts it. 25Ibid., pp. 467-468.

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Having explained the pervasive presence of suggested

hyperbole in alamkaras generally, Anandavardhana goes on to

list a wide variety of specific alamkäras which typically or

necessarily convey some subordinate suggested sense, and which

depend on this suggested sense for their beauty. Subordinated

suggestion, on Anandavardhana's view, plays so central a role

in the operation of the alamkaras that the analysis of

gunībhutavyangya-kavya in general can effectively substitute

for the analysis of particular alamkāras as practiced by

earlier Ālamkārikas.

Alamkāras such as rūpaka [i.e. the arthalamkaras], which acquire a high degree of beauty only when they touch on some suggested element, all fall within the scope of gunībhūtavyangya. And having a subordinate suggested meaning is s the general characteristic of all such [alamkaras], both those already explained [by previous Ālamkarikas] and those not yet explained. If this [gunībhutavyangya] is defined, then they are all adequately defined. They cannot be accurately known by the explanation of the particular form of each without any general infinite; just as definition, because h one they are

through word by word study [pratipadapātha] .26 words cannot be accurately known For the permutations of language are infinite, and the alamkāras are varieties of these. 27

The attempt to exhaustively define and categorize all

figures of speech, which has heretofore served as the primary

object of Alamkarasāstra, is, on this view, ultimately futile.

26An allusion to the paspasahnika of the Mahabhasya (Vrajajīvan Pracyabhāratī Granthamāla 23, Vol. 1, pp. 53-56); here Patañjali explains that the proper forms of words, because they are infinite, cannot be learnt through word by word study, and grammatical instruction must therefore be made by means of generally applicable rules (utsarga) exceptions to these rules (apavāda) . and

27Dhvanyaloka, pp. 472-3.

279

There is no limit to the possible permutations of figurative

usage, and thus no hope of achieving a complete taxonomy of

such usage by the description of specific figures of speech.

The role of subordinated suggestion in the figures is so

pervasive, however, that it may serve as the defining element

which underlies figurative usage in general. The

characterization and analysis of this underlying, defining

element can effectively take the place of the interminable and

ultimately hopeless task of defining and classifying the

figures one by one.

Anandavardhana began his work by sharply demarcating the

object of his own literary analysis, suggested meaning, from

the object of analysis for earlier Alamkarikas, directly

expressed meaning in the form of particular, expressed,

figures of speech (cf. Dhvanyaloka, 1.3-42ª). However, as we

have just seen, further analysis of the role and scope of

suggested meaning in poetry blurs and finally overwhelms this

demarcation: the theory of suggested meaning not only reveals

and explains the existence of a type of poetry, dhvani, which

had gone unrecognized by earlier literary analysts, but also

makes clear, in the form of subordinated suggestion, the

general, underlying principle on which figuration is based and

thus produces a more satisfactory account of the figures, the

primary focus of prior literary analysis, than previous

Ālamkärikas themselves were able to provide.

28Ibid., pp. 47-49.

280

Although Anandavardhana consistently refers to dhvani and

gunībhūtavyangya as "types" of poetry (kāvya-prakāra or kāvya-

visesa), it should be evident from the foregoing discussion,

and from the examination of the subordination of alamkäras to

rasa made earlier (cf. above Chapter Four, pp. 174ff), that

these two "types" are not mutually exclusive and may co-occur

in the same composition or even the same verse. The various

alamkaras, which are all or virtually all to be regarded as

subtypes of gunībhutavyangya-kavya, can and generally should

be employed so as to heighten the capacity of a verse or a

larger composition to suggest, as its primary meaning, a

particular rasa (making it, thereby, an instance of dhvani-

kāvya) .

Änandavardhana explicitly points out this overlapping of

"types" in his discussion of gunībhutavyangya. He is, as

always, anxious to emphasize the prevalence of dhvani,

particularly rasa-dhvani, in the great works of Sanskrit and

Prakrit poetry, and is therefore useful for him to show how

even verses and expressions conveying a subordinated suggested

sense may co-occur with and assist in the process of rasa-

dhvani.

Even this gunibhutavyangya-type may again take on the form of dhvani, when one considers its ultimate intent -- namely rasa etc.29

This can be seen clearly in the examples of gunībhūtavyangya

quoted above. The verse "Knowing that her lover was

29Ibid., p. 483.

281

considering what time they should meet ... " (samketakāla-

mānasam .. .-- cf. above, p. 273) conveys the subordinate

suggested meaning that the heroine wishes to meet her lover at

sundown (and thus may be considered an instance of

gunībhūtavyangya), but the ultimate object of the verse is to

suggest srngara-rasa. Likewise, in the example "Having struck

at our lives ... " (laksagrhanala ...-- cf. above, p. 274) the

words of the verse, aided, in performance, by a certain

intonation on the actor's part, convey, as a subordinated

suggestion, that the verse is intended ironically; the

ultimate purport of the verse, however, is to suggest vira-

rasa ("heroism") (or perhaps raudra-rasa ["fury"] ).

In this way it can be shown that a great many examples of

gunībhutavyangya-kavya are also cases of rasa-dhvani and,

having the suggestion of rasa as their primary and overriding

goal, such examples can easily.be explained and evaluated via

Anandavardhana's teleological mode of literary analysis.

Anandavardhana concedes, however, that gunibhūtavyangya need

not be, and is not invariably, directed toward rasa-dhvani.

But when an expression does not have rasa, etc. as its ultimate purport [tätparya], even when it is conveyed by words containing subordinate subordinated suggestion will a property of the whole.30 suggested meanings,

Even if the individual words or phrases of which a verse is

composed contain subordinate suggested meanings and are

therefore to be regarded as gunībhutavyangya, the verse as a

30Ibid., p. 485.

282

whole may have rasa as its primary object and so be considered

a case of dhvani; but, when such a verse does not have rasa as

its primary object, the entire verse will be regarded as

gunībhūtavyangya. There is then some domain for

gunībhutavyangya-kavya independent from that of dhvani; many

or most instances of gunibhūtavyagya may be rasa-directed and

hence ultimately included within the scope of dhvani, but, in

at least some cases, gunībhūtavyangya occurs without

culminating in any rasa-dhvani. As we shall see, the

existence of such poetry poses a serious problem for

Anandavardhana's poetic teleology, as, in the absence of rasa,

there is no meaningful criterion in terms of which the

aesthetic value of particular phonetic and semantic elements

may be evaluated.

Apart from dhvani-kavya and from gunībhūtavyangya-kavya

(in which rasa and other suggested meanings occupy a

subordinate role), Anandavardhana accepts the existence of a

third type of poetry, citra-kavya, in which suggested meaning

plays no role whatsoever. Such poetry depends solely on the

beauty of its sounds and its expressed meaning for its

capacity to give pleasure. Given Anandavardhana's argument

for the pervasive role of subordinated suggestion in the

figures of speech dealt with by earlier Ālamkärikas, the range

of phonetic and semantic elements which may be employed to

render such poetry beautiful is quite limited; there are,

however, at least a few figurative elements which are totally

283

devoid of suggested meaning.

There [in citra-kāvya] there is a certain element of variegation of sound [śabda-citra] in the form of difficult rhyming [duskara-yamaka31] etc .; apart from this variegation of sound, there is variegation of expressed meaning [väcya-citra] in the form of alamkāras such as "imagining" [utpreksa32] when they are established as the primary meaning of an expression, lacking any rasa-directedness and devoid of connection with any suggested sense.33

Anandavardhana takes a disparaging attitude toward such