On Learning to Overhear the "Vanishing Poet"
Description
Truly, Śāntideva is "the vanishing poet." Paul Harrison once memorably characterized him thus when speaking of Śāntideva's Training Anthology (Śikṣāsamuccaya). He had in mind the curious fact that editors and readers often found themselves lost in the woods of what was presented as continuous prose in our editions, failing to see that more than a few trees among the thickets were lyrical verses. When verses were identified as such, many were identified as being citations rather than Śāntideva's own compositions.[1] To speak of "the vanishing poet," then, can mean that we have not always been in a position even to begin to hear Śāntideva aright, much less to interpret him.
In a sense, the poet Śāntideva vanishes even when we read the Guide. It is easy enough to speak of the beauty of individual verses, but Louis
Gómez is right: "Alas, for all our expressed admiration for the poetical beauty of [the Guide], we do not have to date any detailed explorations of the literary characteristics and merits of the work."[2] Nor, to the best of my knowledge, have even individual verses received the kind of literary attention they so richly deserve. Consider what follows, then, to be a very tentative introduction to the vanishing poet, and merely one cautiously suggested orientation to an altogether remarkable work. (Kachru, introductory remarks, 60)
Notes
- Harrison, "The Case of the Vanishing Poet," 215-248; see also Harrison, "Verses by Śāntideva in the 'Śikṣāsamuccaya.'"
- Gómez, "The Way of the Translators," 267. See also the remarks of Kate Crosby and Andrew Skilton about being cautious when assessing Śāntideva's literary merits, particularly in light of the norms and values of literature (kāvya) in Sanskrit, in Śāntideva, The Bodhicaryāvatāra, trans. Crosby and Skilton, xxxviii-xxxix.
Translation of selected verses.