In one of the recent posts a thread got developed around technique and inspiration in the poetry of Savitri. While the metrical base is an important element in rhythmic movement of a composition, it is the true inspiration which gives authenticity to it. The fine points of poetic technique and inspiration finding its own mould of expression and it carrying with it significance and responsiveness greatly support each other. This discussion essentially in the context of Savitri, brings out the artistic excellence that is there in it, in Savitri. I’m compiling, with suitable editing, all these comments here so that a focus is brought to the discussion which should help us grow more in its richnesses. For fuller details or reference-support please go back to the original posts.


http://www.mirroroftomorrow.org/blog/_archives/2010/3/20/4485311.html


V. Arvind on Wed 24 Mar 2010 11:19 PM

I have read somewhere a beautiful statement: Savitri is Sri Aurobindo's vāngmiya déha, his "word-body". Revising it doesn't make sense, especially in the light of the Mother's categorical views on the matter!


RY Deshpande on Thu 25 Mar 2010 05:37 PM

What a beautiful phrase this vāngmiya déha, the word-body of Sri Aurobindo! In Savitri itself we have the phrase describing young Savitri as “breathing Scripture of the Eternal’s joy. The Mother calls Savitri as Sri Aurobindo’s Word of Transformation. She also tells that he left his consciousness in it. But now we have intelligent people who say that it can be so only if a ‘correct’ edition is given!


RY Deshpande on Fri 12 Mar 2010 05:11 PM

I’d been suggesting right from the beginning to go by the Savitri-edition that was published during Sri Aurobindo’s time. Part One consisting of the first 3 Books and 24 Cantos was out in September 1950 before Sri Aurobindo’s withdrawal on 5 December in that year. The other two parts, Part Two and Part Three with 9 Books and 25 Cantos, in a single volume came out in May 1951. This should also mean that the second volume had already gone to the Press much before December 1950. These two volumes should be treated as the authoritative or if you like the ‘sacred’ text of Savitri. Re-examination of various drafts of the Epic belongs to the category of scholarly work and carries another sense with the mental entering into it in a major way. That scholarly approach has a different status, and must be presented for scholarly studies in a systematic organised manner, applying scholarly criteria.


V Arvind on Fri 12 Mar 2010 07:27 PM

I entirely agree with your views. There may be some imperfections in the 1951 version, but I think we would all prefer the original version "warts and all" rather than a tainted version produced by mediocre scholarship.


RY Deshpande on Tue 06 Apr 2010 06:17 AM An Editorial Insolence

Recently we had made a fairly extensive selection of passages from the first half of Savitri under the title Posthuman Destinies. These do indicate a possibility of our effort reaching the higher realms of consciousness. But the real fulfilment of the human effort and human potential will lie only in the divine Power stepping into this creation, accepting the mortal’s lot to shape it into the modes of immortality. While Savitri’s first half can thus be said to be the Human Potential promoted by the avataric Effort, the second is the Divine Will flowing into the Evolutionary Manifold to open the prospects of divine Manifestation here. These two constitute the Story of Triumph, the triumph of Knowledge and Power in the greatness of the creative Real-Idea working in the mortal world, this mŗtyuloka.


If this is the thematic content of Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri, then there is also an understandable expectation that, while editing the texts that had developed in different ways over a period of disjointed times, we be sensitive to its nuances and distinctions, possibly to its deeper occult-yogic contents. Most ideally, of course, it is required that we reach the source from where the original inspiration had come. It is there that the truest Savitri exists; it is indeed there that it was yogically written. It is that Savitri, that uninfringeable Word which has the power to transform this earthly life of ours into the life divine if our souls should aspire for it. The rest could simply be a matter of transmission, transmission down through various grades, and of language also, from the revelatory utterance or, as a Savitri-phrase says, “transcendental speech”, parā vāņī, to the “seen word”, paśyanti vāka, the luminous and transformative language of the seer, of the Rishi, of the poet-thinker, kavirmanīşi, finally, it entering into the human medium in boldness of the symbolic and the metaphorical and the imaginative, with each sense carrying with it the other remaining senses, sight the sound and the contact and the fragrance and the taste, thought and perception and melody all joining together, behind all of them standing the truer sajnāna, it embracing every sense, the comprehending faculty seizing at once the object in its modes of multi-expression. If that is not there, then whatever we do, or we don’t do, is flawed and faulty. It is in that context we must look into the phrase “approved by the Mother” when we are concerned with Savitri-editing; it is in that sense that we have to also understand the Mother, she telling Amal that she would not allow him to change even a comma in Savitri. Yet it happened. Here Nolini stood taller than all his contemporaries with a definite intuition behind things, surer and brighter.


Let me start with the comment from V Arvind on an earlier post. It is as follows. Aswapati’s adventure of consciousness when he mounted burning like a cone of fire is identified by him with Agni’s as described in the Veda. In that connection Arvind recalls Judith Tyberg's wonderful summary of Savitri in her Drama of Integral Self-Realization. Here is the opening paragraph of her essay: “Sri Aurobindo's Savitri is an epic poem of high spiritual challenge in the Yoga or Divine Union or Goal of Self-Realization it presents. Its spiritual conception is so all-embracing, so integral that it gives birth to a power which transforms life on earth to a life of divine activity rather than leading to an escape from life. The epic is a mantric expression of this great Seer-sage's inner findings and conquests, leading to his vision of an age of truth-consciousness and immortality. It portrays in living drama the daring climb within of a king-soul through progressive states of consciousness to Nirvanic heights and beyond to summits never reached before. The poet reveals how at meditation's peaks at one with God, where many cease their search, he becomes aware of a Presence, God's Consciousness, Power and Bliss, which he calls the Divine Mother. He relates how this Creatrix of boundless Love and Wisdom-Splendor comes down to transform Darkness into Light, the Unreal into the Real and Death into Immortality.”


The following passage appearing on p. 347 is one of the clearest examples of the way the editing of Savitri had gone. This passage of five lines is about Aswapati’s return to the mortal world after receiving an exceptional boon from the transcendental divine Shakti. The Centenary Edition gives the text as follows:

 

Once more he moved amid material scenes,

Lifted by intimations from the heights

And twixt the pauses of the building brain

Touched by the thoughts that skim the fathomless surge

Of Nature and wing back to hidden shores.

 

Aswapati gets the Word from the supreme Goddess and, assured, returns to the earth. Presently, all his actions flow in the dynamism of the spirit and the higher intimations that he gets are received even when he is preoccupied with the thousand problems that afflict us. Incontingent is his spiritual poise, and the poetic expression the Yogi-Poet has given to it is precise; to recognize it we have to be alert to its implications.


But from the editors who examined the Savitri-manuscripts we have an unfortunate statement about the third line of this passage. While proposing the replacement of “twixt” by “in”, they say it was a “slip” made by the author himself. They maintain that “here ‘twixt’ does not make sense”. They add that “in” represents Sri Aurobindo’s “intentions better”. The editors seem to be too confident to say that “twixt” for “in” was a slip on the part of Sri Aurobindo himself.


Let us look into some details connected with this “twixt”-“in” as it went through several stages. In the last version that is in Sri Aurobindo’s own hand, the copy-text, as well as in the ledger in which Nirodbaran copied the text, what we have is “twixt”; it is also noticed that this word has been underlined in the ledger and that there is a tick mark in the margin, both in dark ink. From the tick mark we can be absolutely certain that a specific reference about “twixt” was made to Sri Aurobindo and that he very consciously retained it. In other words, this was not an accidental departure from the earlier drafts, though these had “in” at least on thirteen occasions.


The most surprising aspect of the unusual episode, however, is that Amal himself should have gone completely out of his way to justify the ways of Man to God. He calls this “in”-“twixt” as the biggest puzzle in Savitri and sets himself to plead for “in” in place of Sri Aurobindo’s latest “twixt”. He considers “twixt” as “a strange oversight” on part of the author himself. Sri Aurobindo may have “loosely opted for ‘twixt’. But we should be aware of allowing currency to a text which, on a natural interpretation, is out of accord with Sri Aurobindo’s known spiritual teaching no less than with his own poetic choice in an overwhelming majority of versions.”


Amal concludes his analysis and makes the following recommendation: “The editors of Savitri must certainly not succumb to the temptation to choose readings from earlier versions merely out of personal preference. But neither can a purely mechanical approach to editing be the ideal for a poem which covered many years and took shape in such a complex manner. Among the diverse possibilities of corruptions creeping into the text, slips and oversights by Sri Aurobindo himself form an extremely small category consisting primarily of omitted punctuation. But rare verbal slips are a possibility the editors must accept when there is very clear evidence for it, particularly from the standpoint of Sri Aurobindo’s consistent yogic teaching.”


So the upshot is: Sri Aurobindo’s eyesight had become weak, he could not hear properly what was read out to him, he had to depend upon a scribe who was not alert enough, he was assisted by a typist who remained mute and quiet, his printer didn’t always remain faithful to the manuscripts sent to him for printing and publication. If such is the basis of the Revised Edition of Savitri, then one become suspicious of it. This must entail on our part to have a critical and independent look at the entire editing of the poem. We should also remember the Mother’s firm retort to Amal: “Do you think there is anybody in the world who can judge Sri Aurobindo? And how do you know what Sri Aurobindo intended or did not intend? He may have wanted just what he has left behind.” That is logic also.

 

In the present context, of Amal speaking of slips and oversights by Sri Aurobindo himself, we can well understand why the Mother should have exploded the way she did, in 1954, like “a veritable Mahakali”. It seems that we are not really dealing with the “biggest puzzle in the text of Savitri”, but with something else—ardent disciples becoming wiser than the teacher, not only pointing out his slips but also correcting them. It becomes ingloriously worse when one of them writes a biography of the Yogi-Poet, which declares that Savitri is a “fictional creation”.


V. Arvind on Wed 07 Apr 2010 07:11 PM

In all the earlier editions (1950, 1954, 1970, and SABCL) the line reads: “And twixt the pauses of the building brain.” Why did it take 20 years to spot this and realize that it could be a slip, if indeed it was a slip? When the earlier revisions were done was this change considered and rejected?


Given that "twixt" was actually written by Sri Aurobindo in the last version, what seems to me appropriate is to put "in" as alternative reading in a footnote.

 

V. Arvind on Thu 08 Apr 2010 07:41 PM

I did some internet search to find out about current practices in bringing out scholarly critical editions. I found an interesting essay by Robert Hirst at this link:

https://wiki.cdlib.org/MTP/tiki-index.php?page=Critical+Edition+Essay

Also see this link:

http://www.neh.gov/news/awards/scholarlyEditionsAwards_052006.html

 

Hirst discusses the problems of bringing out a critical edition of Mark Twain's letters from multiple manuscripts, and proposes the electronic critical edition as a solution. I think the idea is to use hypertext links in the E-book to show all alternative readings.


It seems to me that such an E-book would be an ideal solution for a scholarly critical edition of Savitri. It can include all alternative readings. This edition is obviously meant only for the scholar. For the normal devotee would use the 1972 edition.


V. Arvind on Fri 09 Apr 2010 08:37 PM

And twixt the pauses of the building brain

Touched by the thoughts that skim the fathomless surge


There is a nice alliterative effect produced by the two opening dental consonants in the words "twixt" and "Touched" occurring in successive lines. Also, in the opening iamb "And twixt", since the first syllable "And" ends in a dental consonant, we can glide over it leaving most of the duration and stress on "twixt". This produces the alliterative effect...


RY Deshpande on Sat 10 Apr 2010 06:34 AM

Your analysis is interesting. “twixt” has natural accent and stress and quantity which give a kind of weightiness to the line which is absent in “in”. From a poetic point of view therefore “twixt” is a better choice. The sound value in “in” is poorer than in “twixt”, something that is not desirable in the present context. However, behind "twixt" the considerations are more occult-yogic than poetic, I suppose.


V. Arvind on Sat 10 Apr 2010 10:11 AM

Absolutely. Sri Aurobindo has clearly said that he has written nothing for mere poetic effect. That has to be an axiom in any study of Savitri.


RY Deshpande on Wed 14 Apr 2010 03:37 PM: about Savitri as a Fictional Creation

There cannot be any more laughable assertion than saying Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri is a “fictional creation”. But this is precisely what the author of The Lives of Sri Aurobindo is trying to thrust down our throats. It is forgotten or else ignored what the Mother has spoken of Savitri, that it is the “supreme revelation of Sri Aurobindo’s vision”. This revelation gets immediately nullified in the Lives by one single phrase, by calling it a “fictional creation”. And Sri Aurobindo himself had said that Savitri was his “main work”, and he was occupied with it over long periods of time, and he took it as his own means of ascension, and he had ceaselessly given the last ten years to give to it the form he wanted to give to it, the form of perfect perfection, of yogic expression. Was all that for a “fictional creation”, the Yogi virtually occupied with it? That would be a sad paradox. But is Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri really a fictional creation?

 

After 1938 with the establishment of the Mind of Light in his physical, the physical’s mind opening to the supramental Light and Force, Sri Aurobindo’s Yoga for the collective took an upward turn, a positive turn, and things started happening in rapid succession; it is to this period that the definitive composition of Savitri belongs. That indeed makes Savitri a rich source to get a peep into the yogic attainments of the Yogi during the last twelve years or so.


Srikant on Thu 15 Apr 2010 12:59 AM

Savitri is a fictional creation

Fiction—a feigned or false story: a falsehood: a romance: the novel, story-telling as a branch of literature. (Chambers)

Fiction—feigning, invention; thing feigned or imagined, invented statement or narrative: esp. novels. (Oxford)


Thus a ‘fictional creation’ would mean at best,’ imagined, invented narrative, esp. novels; and at worst it would mean a false creation.


The poet himself says it is a Legend and a Symbol.

 

Legend—a story of a saint’s life: a traditional story: a body of tradition. (Chambers)
Symbol—an emblem: that which by custom or convention represents something else.

This is a traditional story of Satyavan and Savitri and is recounted in the Mahabharat. However, it is an emblem representing some thing else. The Mother says to Mona-da and Huta-ben that it is Sri Aurobindo’s and Her story. It is also the story of the creation; the story of the conquest of Love over Death.


Savitri thus is not by any stretch of imagination a false story. It is not even an imagined, invented narrative, esp. novels. Anybody who says that it is a fictional creation certainly knows—floccinaucinihilipilification!

 

RY Deshpande on Thu 15 Apr 2010 07:08 PM

The Lives of Sri Aurobindo tries to prove that Savitri is a “fictional creation”, basing its argument on a letter from Sri Aurobindo written in 1936. But this is simply anachronistic, and misleading, when Savitri had started taking its final shape only a few years later, its major and definitive composition belonging to the period 1942-50.


RY Deshpande on Mon 19 Apr 2010 06:08 AM

Let us get some general idea about the manner in which the composition of Savitri had proceeded. We could also look into some more factual details which are indeed revealing in many respects. The first available draft of Savitri, dated 8/9 August 1916, is a short narrative just with 1637 lines, but it is obvious that the poet meant it only to be a broad framework to be subsequently developed in several respects. The Yogi in him also recognised that the Savitri-legend has in its contents and connotations all that which can hold the marvellous theme of evolutionary spirituality leading to the divine manifestation upon earth. Eventually Part One of Savitri consisting of the first three books came out in September 1950, prior to Sri Aurobindo’s passing away on 5 December 1950. This first edition of Savitri’s Part I has in it a total number of 11,674 lines; these have become 11,683 lines in the 1993 edition. The total number of lines in Savitri is as follows: 23,812 (1950-51); 23,837 (1993); 1993 has 25 additional lines compared with the 1950-51 edition, 9 coming from Part I and 16 from Parts II and III. Part I which was mostly written by Sri Aurobindo himself in his own hand had, in 1944, about 9000 lines; but as the revision by dictation proceeded, it grew to 11,674 lines in the printed text of 1950. These changes kept on happening in the fair copy made by Nirodbaran, in the typescripts, proofs, and the printed versions which had come out either in the Ashram periodicals or as fascicles. The very first line of the epic in the twenty-first version appears as follows:

 

It was the hour before the gods awake.

 

While it continued to be there in that form afterwards also, a change was made in a later draft in which “gods” became “Gods”. Was that just another inspiration, with the elevation of “gods” to “Gods”, Sri Aurobindo simply taking care of details with a kind of focused attention? But perhaps this elevation of “gods” to “Gods” has far beyond literary or religio-philosophical considerations a transcendental dimension when the yogic elements that were entering into the scheme of things had started asserting themselves in a distinct and definite manner.


It is a fact that Savitri went back and forth through many stages of composition. Understandably, this could entail what one might call slips or mistakes, inadvertencies creeping into the printed version. But that does not lend credibility to make an archival statement that “an author is not responsible for every point, indeed not even for every word that is printed as his.” This assertion is bold, rather queer and rash. We must be cautious while accepting its implications.


It is stated that even at the advanced stage of proofreading Sri Aurobindo “made extensive alterations and added new lines and passages.” Just take an example pertaining to the 1948-fascicle with a revised passage which is as follows:

 

He is satisfied with his common average kind;

Tomorrow’s hopes are his, the old rounds of thought;

His old familiar interests and desires

He has made a hedge planned to defend his life…

 

“Sri Aurobindo further revised these lines in the proofs of the first edition. These proofs, unfortunately, were not preserved; so what was printed in that edition is the only evidence of his last revision. The passage was printed in 1950 as follows:

 

He is satisfied with his common average kind;

Tomorrow’s hopes and his old rounds of thought,

His old familiar interests and desires

He has made a thick and narrowing hedge

Defending his small life from the Invisible…

(Savitri, pp. 165-66)

 

Amal commented in 1954 on the fourth line: ‘Limping line—one foot missing. It is impossible to scan it as a pentameter as it stands: He has/ máde a/ thíck and/ nárrow/ ing hédge/. Three consecutive trochees in the middle are too jerky and inadmissible. The natural scanning is: He has máde/ a thíck/ and nár/ row wing hédge/. But this gives a four-foot line. Look up the original.’ We have seen Sri Aurobindo’s statement that a trochee, if it is not the first foot of a line, needs to be supported ‘by a strong syllable just preceding it’. But…this supposedly iambic line consists mainly of trochees, with only one iamb at the end… Did Sri Aurobindo, in the final revision in 1950, forget momentarily the subtle laws of metrical movement which he had expounded so lucidly in his prose writings and embodied with a spontaneous and unfailing mastery in so many thousands of lines of Savitri? If this irregularity had created a forceful effect of some kind, it might have been justified… But in the passage of our ‘common average kind’, nothing out of the ordinary seems called for… To avoid supposing an unaccountable lapse in Sri Aurobindo’s metrical skill, we may infer that he actually dictated:

 

He has made into a thick and narrowing hedge…

 

By making explicit the implied ‘into’, the line becomes readable as pentametric according to the natural rhythm of the words.” (On the New Edition of Savitri, Part Two, pp. 60-63, 2000)


Thanks heaven, here Sri Aurobindo is absolved from a metrical lapse, the blame going to the scribe or the typist or the printer!! It is by a sort of tour de force that a case for editorial emendation has been made. We’ve already seen Sri Aurobindo himself being apportioned the guilt for not taking care of his own philosophy! Indeed, what we witness in these cases is sheer enthusiasm to make Sri Aurobindo match up with our notions of professional skill and perfection! This is sophisticated arrogance, and must be at once dismissed. This line has definitely been modified by Amal and the editors.


Here is a second example, but it is of a slightly different kind. This pertains to the line “An hour comes when fail all Nature's means.” (Savitri, p. 11) This line in the Revised Edition reads as follows: “An hour arrives when fail all Nature's means.” The obvious question is, how has the line undergone such a change, though perhaps not of a very crucial kind, interesting yet it is from a certain point of view.


In fact, there is an editorial problem here, though of a minor nature, whether it should be “An hour comes…” or “An hour arrives…” As far as the sense is concerned there is really not much to choose between “comes” and “arrives”. From the point of view of poetic technique we have: An hour/ arrives/ when fail/ all Nat/ ure’s means—four beautiful iambs with spondee as the fourth foot; An ho/ ur comes/ when fail/ all Nat/ ure’s means—this is also acceptable, with ‘hour’ taken with two syllables, not an uncommon thing in Savitri; with this ‘ho /ur’ the first line—It was the hour before the Gods awake—would become iamb-iamb-anapaest-iamb-iamb, which could also pass without any technical objection. In many places Sri Aurobindo scans ‘inspires’ or ‘desires’ with three syllables, trisyllabic though generally they are disyllabic; so too could be taken ‘hour’ as ‘ho/ ur’. As far as rhythm is concerned, it is a matter of one’s taste and association, one’s predilections also; nor can there be any strict formula everywhere for the same poet; it could depend upon the situation. Then, while in the ‘arrival’-line there is a strong ‘r’-alliterative effect, in the ‘comes’-line the additional ‘m’-alliteration brings a kind of self-closing poetic result. Nor is this line that kind of a dense classical mantra in which nothing can be changed, the exact word in the exact position. There is neither the inevitability of ‘arrives’ nor of ‘comes’.


And yet there is a problem. The passage concerned was written by Sri Aurobindo first around 1945, written on a tiny chit-pad sheet. On it our line in his hand is ‘An hour arrives when fail all Nature's means.” But there were revisions by dictation around it and when the scribe made a fair copy of the text he put—inadvertently we might suppose, probably being carried away by the sense of the sentence—‘comes’ instead of ‘arrives’. Obviously, ‘comes’ continued to be there through all the subsequent stages of composition. Nirodbaran’s fair copy, that is, the ledger, as well as several earlier manuscripts, had ‘comes’; Nolini’s type-sheets, proofs from the press on three or four occasions—all of them were read out to Sri Aurobindo and he never felt uneasy with his ‘arrives’ having been “changed” to ‘comes’ by somebody else.


Indeed, if the author had allowed something to stand, can we really object to him in that respect? If he had passed something can we overrule him and change the text? If Sri Aurobindo keeps something, though not his, who are we to dismiss it? In this case, it is not that ‘comes’ did not exist earlier; it did. Perhaps there should be some other way to resolve the issue. Is there any, particularly when the editors tell us that they have “refrained from undue tampering”? But then this is also, negatively, an admission that due tampering has occurred in the course of editing Savitri.


At the moment we are analysing the situation arising out of ‘comes’ / ‘arrives’ without really knowing how the said passage developed in the process of its composition. If around it there are new dictations or changes due to dictation, then the case has to be seen differently. We have absolutely no knowledge of it, and there could be a valid reason to say that the whole revision by our editors has been done in a kind of hush-hush manner. That makes it highly suspect, highly vulnerable, even if there is plenty of scholarship and hard work behind it.


RY Deshpande on Wed 21 Apr 2010 03:25 PM—Right inspiration takes care of right poetic technique

The line “He has made a thick and narrowing hedge” (Savitri, p. 166) has been altered to “He has made into a thick and narrowing hedge” in the 1993 Revised Edition. This alteration has no textual justification, but the argument which has been put forward is on the basis of metre. We‘ve already seen that there are three consecutive trochees right in the middle of the earlier line: |made' a|thick' and|nar'row|. But the editors of the Revised Edition say that this is inadmissible,—because it amounts to faulty poetic technique entering into Savitri-composition. Even if it is coming from Sri Aurobindo, it cannot stand the demands of correct poetry, and therefore it ought to be corrected.


But what is the fault? The contention is these trochees make the movement jerky. They quote Sri Aurobindo: A trochee, if it is not the first foot of a line, needs to be supported by a strong syllable just preceding it. But in spite of this lack of a strong foot Sri Aurobindo has by a master-stroke given something which is most wonderful. The trochees that can make the movement jerky have been pressed into use to provide a smooth liquidity. Here the three trochees fit in so well into the movement that it gets spoilt by the addition of a “strong syllable” now coming from “into”. In fact, the altered line looks rather artificial, a graft with odious surroundings. In any case, we’ve no business to correct Sri Aurobindo’s compositions. The original three-trochee line has the same natural spontaneous inspired unusualness as in the case of another line where we’ve only the falling feet. The example is from p. 379: “Threaded through clamorous marts and sentinel towers.” It can be easily scanned as follows:

 

Thread'ed through | clam'or ous | marts' and | sen'ti nel | tow'ers |

 

dactyl-dactyl-trochee-dactyl-trochee—all falling feet. We’ll have to hunt out if there are at all similar examples elsewhere in literature.


V Arvind tries another scansion for the line, with ‘towers’ taken as a single stressed syllable; that would give the following feet for the line: trochee-iamb-anapaest-iamb-anapaest— Thread'ed | through clam' |orous marts' | and sen' | tinel towrs'|.


But I suppose that would take away the natural spontaneous inspired unusualness of the falling line,—not that it was meant to be unusual. Possibly I’d have taken ‘tower’ monosyllabic in another situation, but the plural ‘towers’ does not easily allow that to happen here; the alliterative ‘s’-insistence in the line—with so many other alliterative consonant-sounds—insists that we pay due attention to this ‘s’, as well as the ending ‘rs’. I’m fascinated by the idea of all the falling feet in the line for which there’s no parallel elsewhere. In the hands of a Master we’ve a marvellous play of these varying feet, that our common notions of poetry-reading get traumatized. The only way is, to let oneself go into the dynamism of the rhythm which comes from some far-off infinity and swings back into another far-off infinity. It comes, stirs the layers of our sleeping perceptions, persuades us to go along with it if only in the silence of the Word we could participate in the activity of the Word. Sri Aurobindo himself had written to Amal that the reader has to be pretty alert to the sounds of words in Savitri.

 

If the inspiration is the right one, then I have not to bother about the technique then or afterwards, for there comes through the perfect line with the perfect rhythm inextricably intertwined or rather fused into an inseparable and single unity; if there is anything wrong with the expression that carries with it an imperfection in the rhythm, if there is a flaw in the rhythm, the expression also does not carry its full weight, is not absolutely inevitable. (1936)

 

Do our editors realize that by calling the said line metrically defective they are actually saying that it lacks the right inspiration? How preposterous! The fact is, all that is needed is “usually taken care of by the inspiration itself”.


V. Arvind on Wed 21 Apr 2010 11:16 PM

The only way is, to let oneself go into the dynamism of the rhythm which comes from some far-off infinity and swings back into another far-off infinity. It comes, stirs the layers of our sleeping perceptions, persuades us to go along with it if only in the silence of the Word we could participate in the activity of the Word. Sri Aurobindo himself had written to Amal that, to put it slightly differently, the reader has to be pretty alert to the sounds of words in Savitri.


I know what you mean. But I would like to learn more to appreciate better and enjoy the lines more. Yet, I don't want to give my mind a free play in reading Savitri—I'm afraid I'll lose a more precious contact with it...


My efforts at scansion are a beginner's efforts at learning about different feet and meters.

 

auroman on Mon 26 Apr 2010 05:02 AM

My efforts at scansion are a beginner's efforts at learning about different feet and meters.

You may want to try Derek Attridge's two books Poetic Rhythm and Meter and Meaning. He offers an intuitive feel with a number of examples.


Fenton's Intro to English Poetry may also be useful


—Another beginner

 

RY Deshpande on Mon 26 Apr 2010 06:16 AM

That's interesting. My first meeting with Nirod was on 16 August 1952, when I'd taken a bunch of my poems for him to have a look at them; he was courteous and encouraging. In the course of the talk about English metres he suggested, in response to my request for a suitable book, The Metres of English Poetry by Enid Hamer, first published on 24 April 1930. I managed to get a second-hand copy from a second-hand bookstall at Kalbadevi Rd Bombay-2 of the time. I find it well-written with a large number of examples, describing various genres of poetry and compositions. Maybe Arvind could try in a second-hand bookstall in Chennai. This book was very popular among the Ashram poets of the time and, of course, they had the direct guidance from Sri Aurobindo himself. John Chadwick (named as Arjava by Sri Aurobindo, a poet and philosopher; the Master had great appreciation for his poetry, and also the metrical skill he had at his command) was a master, and Nirod had his lessons from him.


V. Arvind on Mon 26 Apr 2010 08:39 AM

Thanks, Auroman and RYD.


Coincidentally, I've borrowed Derek Attridge's really nice book on Meter and Meaning from the British Council Library in Chennai. It is very well written.

 

I'll look for Enid Hamer's book as well.


I've started on this learning project a bit late in life though...

 

V. Arvind on Mon 26 Apr 2010 08:44 AM

I first read Arjava's poems after reading Dilip's book Sri Aurobindo came to me which quotes him often.

 

I found his poems powerful, but often a little sad.

 

RY Deshpande on Thu 29 Apr 2010 06:17 AM

What you say might be true, that there is a touch of sadness in Arjava. Or, is it that, that is the kind of impression we get because of his grave and serious business with things? There is a powerful occult also in him. The classical mystic-occult-spiritual in its denseness can easily make us believe that it is not so much the psychic that comes out prominently in him, the psychic with the lyrical and the swift and the sweet, even the dreamy, to tell us the joy he has in the overhead. Let me just quote something quickly from him:

 

Gold are the wings of the eagle

Who bringeth Beauty nigh.

 

Or his most celebrated and mantric:

 

Each man is wildered myriadly by outside and surface tone

Engirdling soul with clamour, by this fragmentary mood,

This patter of Time’s marring steps across the solitude

Of Truth’s abidingness, Self-Blissful and Alone.

 

The last two lines are exceptionally beautiful and powerful. I’ve a whole project of presenting Arjava on the Mirror but I don’t know when it is going to happen—in fact an entire project dealing with the activities that went on in the Department of Poetry that was run by Sri Aurobindo in the 1930s. Let’s see if it can start soon.


RY Deshpande on Thu 22 Apr 2010 09:09 PM

From the smooth and easily flowing line with three trochees in between—He has| made' a| thick' and| nar'row| ing hedge'|—we moved to another rare example with all the five falling feet:

 

Thread'ed through | clam'or ous | marts' and | sen'ti nel | tow'ers |.

 

There is something beautiful in this falling line from the point of view of inspiration, as well as the poetic technique. And that something, that beautiful and captivating, comes from something that is attractively magical,—the magical “clamorous”. Remove this magical “clamorous”, and the entire magic is gone! The line gets flattened. It may remain technically perfect in its pentametric structure,—

 

Thread'ed | through marts' | and sen'| ti nel | tow'ers |,

 

but the poetry has disappeared. It sounds kind of loud, a bit rhetorical also. But the inspiration that brings the magical “clamorous” brings along with it also the apt expressive technique. It will be topsy-turvy logic to go by the notions of the metrical schemes rather than the rhythmic movement which comes with the inspiration itself—it is the rhythmic movement that precedes the technique, it is the rhythmic movement that gives rise to or creates its own technique. I think this is the most fundamental element with the poetry of the kind we have in Savitri, and this must be always recognized. In this regard Amal is definitely misled by the editors of the Revised Edition of Savitri. It is a pity that he succumbed to it, particularly when Sri Aurobindo himself had written the following to him in 1936:

 

The things I lay most stress on then are whether each line in itself is the inevitable thing not only as a whole but in each word; whether there is the right distribution of sentence lengths (an immensely important thing in this kind of blank verse); whether the lines are in their right place, for all the lines may be perfect, but they may not combine perfectly together—bridges may be needed, alterations of position so as to create the right development and perspective etc., etc. Pauses hardly exist in this kind of blank verse; variations of rhythm as between the lines, of caesura, of the distribution of long and short, clipped and open syllables, manifold constructions of vowel and consonant sounds, alliteration, assonances, etc., distribution into one line, two line, three or four or five line, many line sentences, care to make each line tell by itself in its own mass and force and at the same time form a harmonious whole sentence—these are the important things. But all that is usually taken care of by the inspiration itself, for as I know and have the habit of the technique, the inspiration provides what I want according to standing orders. If there is a defect I appeal to headquarters, till a proper version comes along or the defect is removed by a word or phrase substitute that flashes—with the necessary sound and sense. These things are not done by thinking or seeking for the right thing—the two agents are sight and call. Also feeling—the solar plexus has to be satisfied and, until it is, revision after revision has to continue. I may add that the technique does not go by any set mental rule—for the object is not perfect technical elegance according to precept but sound-significance filling out the word-significance. If that can be done by breaking rules, well, so much the worse for the rule.

 

So in Savitri when the proper version comes, it comes with the necessary sound and sense. It comes not by thinking or seeking for the right thing but through the agency of the two agents that are sight and call; in them inspired poetry finds its fulfilling utterance. To tamper with it is to desecrate the precious and the noble and the elevating, and the perfect. This is perhaps what the Mother meant when she told Amal in 1954 that she would not allow him to change even a comma in Savitri. Yet it happened. But this is precisely what we are going to look into, that it happened not because she allowed it—did she allow it?—but because we didn’t see what she meant.

About inspiration shaping its technique, let us take at random one more example. You open your copy of Savitri, and you are on p. 543 with the line: “Or fall silent in the silence of the Unseen”. If we scan it as follows

 

|Or fall' |sil'ent| in the sil'| ence of| the Unseen'|,

 

then we’ve iamb-trochee-anapaest-pyrrhic-anapaest as five feet in the line. But the second and third could be dactyl-iamb— |sil'ent in| the sil'| ence—but, without a doubt, the trochee-anapaest—|sil'ent| in the sil'|ence—has a better rhythmic flow and connectedness, and the emphasis which “silence” gets has a more powerful sense: I’d prefer |sil'ent| in the sil'| ence. There is yet another possibility in the last two feet: sil'|ence of| the Unseen'|,—pyrrhic-anapaest,—or else sil'| ence of the| Unseen'|,—tribrach-iamb combination. Three short syllables forming a foot—tribrach—is quite admissible and, though rare, has here a nice charm of its own, both in rhythm and in sense. In the first, “Unseen”, with "the" before it, sort of gets diluted in contrast to the pointed focus on the single “Unseen” in the second. My reading of the line will be therefore as follows:

 

|Or fall'| sil'ent| in the sil'| ence of the| Unseen'|.

 

A small voice-separation, pause after the fourth foot as tribrach, makes the iambic “Unseen” prominent, important—and that is what it should be.


Essentially, in these examples the point is, rhythm giving rise to metrical feet and not so much the other way round. That will be the way the original rhythm will try to find its movement here, the original word with its sense and sound expressing the utterance through our language which is vaikhari. We try to go from metrical feet to rhythm—and it is not altogether meaningless; however, in the case of a yogi-poet who is in contact with the source of inspiration and is in the dynamism of the rhythm, things come from above. To judge him by applying our criteria is therefore putting things upside down, and it is that which constitutes our fault. In other words, if we find something ‘wrong’ or ‘faulty’ in him we must first do some introspection. Perhaps that is the way by which we will be ‘forced’ or ‘guided’ or ‘prompted’ to seize the harmonious movement which is always present in the authentic poetry of this kind, “that rhythmic speech which rises at once from the heart of the seer and from the distant home of the Truth,—the discovery of the word, the divine movement, the form of thought proper to the reality.” That rhythmic speech is not a mental manufacture, but rises at once from the heart, that which comes from the home of the Truth.

 

In practical terms, wisdom would lie in leaving the text as it is, although we might strongly feel that in the first edition of Savitri there are plenty of blemishes. But who are we to judge them, these textual “blemishes”? That is what the Mother meant when she told Amal that she would not allow him to change even a comma. Amal should have discerned her suggestive hint; instead, he started arguing with her, started justifying the ways of man to God. That spoilt the whole thing. And now here are experts who bring scanning machines and computer programs—was he PS who had prepared the first Concordance of Savitri in 1984 and who had made some of these early attempts?—and big lenses to examine Savitri manuscripts and type sheets and faded pieces of papers, and a whole set of documents to ‘revise’ Savitri which Amal and Nirod may approve but which never would Nolini and Jugal.


V. Arvind on Mon 26 Apr 2010 09:10 PM

|Or fall'| sil'ent| in the sil'| ence of the| Unseen'|.


I read this really thought provoking post only today. The quote from Sri Aurobindo says it all:


I may add that the technique does not go by any set mental rule—for the object is not perfect technical elegance according to precept but sound-significance filling out the word-significance. If that can be done by breaking rules, well, so much the worse for the rule.


What exactly do you mean by a small voice separation?


I thought the beat is provided by the stress syllables, and the flow (fall or rise) is dictated by the unstressed syllables. Also, each foot is supposed to have the same duration. Am I right?


I should add that I don't apply these rules when I read Savitri; I figure out the stress syllables and read the line out a few times to intuitively decide on the feet.

 

V. Arvind on Tue 27 Apr 2010 09:00 PM

Apropos our discussion, I came across this poem of Coleridge titled "Metrical Feet". I am inflicting my scansion upon you... the price that you must pay for my efforts to get this poem!

 

Tro'chee| trips' from| long' to| short'|;

From long'| to long'| in sol'|emn sort'|

Slow' spon'|dee stalks'|; strong' foot'!| yet ill able|

E'ver to| come' up with| Dac'tyl tri"syll'able.|

Iam'|bics march'| from short'| to long;| --

With a leap'| and a bound'| the swift an'|apests throng'|;

One syll'able| long', with| one short' at| each side'|,

Amphi'bra|chys hastes' with| a state'ly| stride'|; --

First' and last'| be'ing long',| mid'dle short'|, Am'phima'cer|

Strikes' his thun'|der'ing hoofs'| like' a proud'| high'-bred Rac'er.|

 

V. Arvind on Tue 27 Apr 2010 09:13 PM

In this context let us compare

 

He has| made' a| thick' and| narr'ow|ing hedge'|


with

 

He has made'| in'to| a thick'| and narr'|owing hedge'|


The second reading has two "swift" anapaests and three "solemn" iambs, following Coleridge's description.


I think that the first reading conveys a more restricted movement which fits better with the sense of the line....

 

Vikas on Tue 27 Apr 2010 07:24 AM

I am jumping in a little late in the discussion. Apropos of the line

 

He has made a thick and narrowing hedge,


I find myself scanning the first foot to be an anapaest. Upon reading Amal's scan I find that mine is identical to his. I believe that his point "The natural scanning is: He has made/ a thick/ and nár/ row wing hédge/. But this gives a four-foot line." cannot be dismissed easily and summarily. Not for a moment am I suggesting that we ought to introduce an "into". I have not seen the manuscripts and this is a high voltage area so I won't comment on that but Amal's comment is certainly valid as far as the scansion.

 

RY Deshpande on Wed 28 Apr 2010 10:33 AM

Let me first pick up Vikas’s: He has made/ a thick/ and nár/ row wing hédge/ which is certainly a valid, in fact a natural scansion. It looks natural when the line is read without any other context. But that would make the line a four-footer, a limping line which also would mean limping inspiration. Assuming that this is what we have, the question raised is: should this be corrected? But the metrical correction would also mean correcting the inspiration, correcting Sri Aurobindo’s inspiration. This is what the Revised Edition does, ceremoniously or unceremoniously I do not know. Let me, however, re-emphasise that this line is not present anywhere in the manuscripts or typescripts. It occurred for the first time in the 1950-edition of Savitri. The difference is seen between the typescript sent to the press and what came out in print from it. This and the next line were added by dictation when the proofs were read out to Sri Aurobindo. Unfortunately, those proofs have not survived. We also do not know to what extent the whole passage had undergone a change. I’ve no knowledge about it and only the Archives records could throw some light on it. But let us read the passage at it exists:

 

He is satisfied with his common average kind;

Tomorrow’s hopes and his old rounds of thought,

His old familiar interests and desires

He has made a thick and narrowing hedge

Defending his small life from the Invisible…

 

While reading all the lines together we surely feel the previous line (His old familiar interests and desires) is somewhat overflowing into the line we are discussing (He has made a thick and narrowing hedge). This could possibly have the effect of making the first foot “He has” stand on its own feet, making it an acceptable iamb. While moving forward the rhythm is kind of looking back when it arrives at "He has". The rest is just to clean up our arguments. A combination of iamb-trochee-trochee-trochee-iamb makes here a perfect line, I suppose. In any case, we have no business to supply “into” to correct things which is what the Revised Edition is doing.


V. Arvind on Fri 30 Apr 2010 10:01 PM

This is an interesting reading of the lines. Making |He has'| into an iamb does provide a stress syllable to support the following trochee |made' a|.


But somehow I am not comfortable with "His old familiar interests and desires he has"... If line began with "The old familiar..." or we had "...the desires he has" then there would be no ambiguity here.


I prefer the simpler reading:


|He has|made' a|thick' and|narr'ow|ing hedge|

 

V. Arvind on Sat 01 May 2010 12:08 AM

On second thoughts, my lack of comfort is because I'm already used to to parsing the sentence as "He has made..." rather than "...desires he has...".


But is there really a metrical problem with the simpler reading of Pyrrhic-trochee-trochee-trochee-iamb?

 

Vikas on Sat 01 May 2010 07:59 AM

He is satisfied with his common average kind;

Tomorrow’s hopes and his old rounds of thought,

His old familiar interests and desires

He has made a thick and narrowing hedge

Defending his small life from the Invisible…


Surely, the lines have to be read in the context of the preceding and following lines especially since the meter and substance can suggest a different scan and therefore a different read. The previous line does flow into the one we are discussing and especially if you consider it (the previous line) as enjambed then one finds oneself naturally in the rhythm of three successive trochees preceded and followed by an iamb and the "into" can be dispensed with. Rendering this in prose we would read it as


His old familiar interests and desires he has

Made a thick and narrowing hedge.

 

But let me hasten to add that I am hardly comfortable with this reading because one anticipates a pause, or to put in poetic terms, a caesura in the discussed line. One would expect a comma or a semi-colon after "He has". We do not see that in the line.


Leaving aside the enjambment, if there was a caesura somewhere in the line, it would make for a strong case for 3 successive trochees, otherwise one risks the sound inevitably falling and following into the natural iambic pattern so native to the English language.


That being said your reluctance to any emendation is understandably impelled by your love, reverence and adoration for, and utter humility before the supreme Mantra of Sri Aurobindo. Therefore any attempt to change what Sri Aurobindo wrote ought to be eschewed even aborted. This is the line of approach. The aim and sole intent is to not taint the Divine Word with the human.

 

The archives presumably has the same aim and intent, but believes that a few lines have been omitted and seeks to restore them from the manuscripts.

 

Akash on Sat 01 May 2010 09:03 AM

Rhythm is one side of the coin and sense is the other. If we abridge the line(s) to:

 

His desire he has made a hedge


To me this connotes that the thing-in-itself (desire) has turned into this other thing (boundary) - sort of by being so, or naturally, or unknowingly, without the "he" having actively done something. Rather it is a psychological comment on the "he" - that he is limited and that limitation has naturally arisen around him by his state of being (desire). But at the same time, there is a "he" involved in the process, perhaps hinting that the "he" has two levels - one involved and limited, the other less limited but also less engaged (perhaps setting the stage for this less limited portion to become more engaged later on).

 

His desire he has made into a hedge

 

To me this connotes a deliberate, knowing, effort-full transformation of one thing into another by the "he". I.e., the "he" has acted in a self-aware manner to limit himself.

 

His desire has become a hedge


This connotes that the "he" is simply not involved in the self-limitation, that "he" is limited and that's it.


I was trying to get some analogies to this construct, but it is rather difficult since there is the physical and the psychological function coming together. For example, "his clay he has made into a brick" works for physical transformation, but "his clay he has made a brick" or "his clay has become a brick" don't work.


Something like this, perhaps?

 

his garden he has made a haven for birds

his garden he has made into a haven for birds

his garden has become a haven for birds

 

V. Arvind on Wed 28 Apr 2010 09:36 AM

In the passage containing the "narrowing hedge" line, already discussed here, a few lines later we have the interesting line:

 

Fenced off the greatnesses of hidden God.


Since this line matches the "hedge" line in sense, it is interesting to scan it and compare. One way is:

 

Fenced' off| the great'|nesses| of hid'|den God'|.

 

This has three iambs and a pyrrhic in the middle. But how about the following scansion?

 

Fenced' off| the great|nesses of| hid'den| God.|


There is a tribrach in the middle, pretty much like the "Unseen" line discussed here, and there are three trochaic feet, where the last one has a "strong ending" with a missing weak syllable! I found this reading nicer as it puts a greater emphasis on "God", just like the effect your scansion has on "Unseen".