The Loves of Krishna in Indian Painting and Poetry by W. G. Archer
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W. G. Archer >> The Loves of Krishna in Indian Painting and Poetry
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13 [Illustration: _Radha and Krishna in the Grove_ Kangra
(Punjab Hills), c. 1785]
THE LOVES OF KRISHNA
IN INDIAN PAINTING
AND POETRY
By
W. G. ARCHER
To
MR. AND MRS. H. N.
WITH LOVE AND ADMIRATION
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am deeply indebted to Dr. A.L. Basham for generous guidance throughout
the preparation of this book, to George Keyt for permitting me to quote
extensively from his brilliant translation of the _Gita Govinda_, and to
Deben Bhattacharya who supplied me with new translations of later poems
and discussed a number of important points. I must also express my deep
gratitude to Mildred Archer and to Gopi Krishna Kanoria for valued
criticism and advice, to Messrs. Faber and Faber, the Harvill Press,
Messrs. Macmillan, the Oxford University Press, the Phoenix House and
Messrs. Sidgwick and Jackson for permitting me to quote passages from
works still copyright, to Professor J. Brough for an informative note on
Bhanu Datta's _Rasamanjari_ and to all those owners of collections who
have either allowed me to reproduce pictures in their possession or have
kindly supplied me with photographs.
Part of the material for this book was delivered as lectures to the Royal
Asiatic Society, the Royal India, Pakistan and Ceylon Society and at the
Victoria and Albert Museum.
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I INTRODUCTION
II THE MAHABHARATA: KRISHNA THE HERO
III THE BHAGAVATA PURANA: THE COWHERD
i Birth and Early Adventures
ii The Loves of the Cowgirls
iii The Death of the Tyrant
IV THE BHAGAVATA PURANA: THE PRINCE
i The Return to Court
ii Marriages and Offspring
iii Last Phases
iv The _Purana_ Re-considered
V THE KRISHNA OF POETRY
i The Triumph of Radha
ii The _Gita Govinda_
iii Later Poetry
iv The _Rasika Priya_
VI THE KRISHNA OF PAINTING
NOTES
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INDEX
PLATES AND COMMENTARY
SOURCES
I
INTRODUCTION
During the twentieth century, a certain type of Indian painting began to
fascinate the West. Unlike Mughal art, it was a product of Hindu courts in
Rajasthan and the Punjab Hills and unlike Mughal painting, its chief
concern was with the varied phases of romance. Ladies would be shown
brooding in their chambers as storm clouds mounted in the sky. A girl
might be portrayed desperately fondling a plantain tree, gripping a pet
falcon, the symbol of her lover, or hurrying through the rainy darkness
intent only on reaching a longed-for tryst. A prince would appear lying on
a terrace, his outstretched arms striving vainly to detain a calm beauty
or welcoming with delight a bashful girl as she slowly advanced. In all
these pictures, romantic love was treated as the highest good and physical
passion was interpreted with a freshness and innocence unequalled in the
world's art.
Such paintings were, at first sight, easy to appreciate. Although they
alternated between two methods of expression--the first a style of savage
distortion, the second a style of the softest grace--each manner enlivened
the common subject.[1] Yet in two respects elucidation was vitally
necessary. Just as in Japan, the lover might express his longings by
cryptic references to Nature, the Indian artist employed poetic symbols to
charge his subjects with romantic ardour. Flowers were never merely
flowers nor clouds clouds. The symbols of Indian poetry--the lotus swaying
in a stream, the flowering creeper embracing a trunk--were intended to
suggest passion-haunted ladies. The mingling of clouds, rain and lightning
symbolized the embraces of lovers, and commonplace objects such as dishes,
vases, ewers and lamps were brought into subtle conjunction to hint at
'the right true end of love.' What, in fact, might seem at first sight to
be a simple portrait, proved on closer understanding to be a study in
despair, a revelation of delight or a clue to rapture, each image with its
sexual implications contriving to express some nuance of longing. In these
pictures, only a part of the meaning was apparent and without a
comprehension of the poetry, much of its true significance was lost.
Such an obstacle to understanding was real enough but, as the eye ranged
over this new kind of love-painting, a second difficulty appeared. In many
pictures, the lover had special characteristics. He was shown with a crown
of peacock's feathers, clad in a golden _dhoti_ and in every case his skin
was mauve or slate-blue.[2] In certain cases, the lady of his choice
appeared bowing at his feet, her pose suggesting the deepest adoration;
yet, in other pictures, his role was quite different. He was then a
resolute warrior, fighting and destroying demons. It was clear, in fact,
that here was no ordinary lover but one who might also be a god. At the
same time, other perplexing circumstances were present. The lover's
appearance was that of an aristocratic youth and the ladies whom he loved
had the bearing of elegant princesses. Yet often the scene of their
encounters was a forest thick with flowering trees. His companions were
cowherds and the objects of his love were not the ladies of a court but
cowgirls. Other activities betrayed the same lowly sphere. In certain
pictures, he was shown eating with cowherds, sharing in their sports,
grazing the cattle and himself milking cows. That such a lover should
dominate the paintings was perplexing in the extreme and just as cultured
Indians would be baffled by Italian and Flemish painting unless they
already knew the life of Christ, it was clear that part, even the
majority, of these pictures would remain obscure unless the character of
their central figure was first explained. One further point remained. In
many cases, the pictures were not intended to be viewed in isolation but
were illustrations of a text. Many were inscribed with Sanskrit or Hindi
verses and in each case there was an intimate connection between the
content of the picture and the poem's subject. To understand the pictures,
therefore, some acquaintance with these texts was necessary for only in
this way could the identity and role of the blue-skinned lover be
appreciated. He was, in fact, Krishna--an incarnation of God--and in his
worship some of the deepest requirements of the Indian spirit found
ecstatic release.
The purpose of this book is to throw some light on Indian painting by
presenting the story of Krishna in the clearest possible terms. It might
be supposed that, of all Indian gods, Krishna was already the one best
known to the West and therefore, perhaps, the one least requiring
explanation. Among modern poets, Sacheverell Sitwell devotes a whole poem
in _Canons of Giant Art_ to describing Krishna's effect.
Rain falls and ceases, all the forest trembles:
Mystery walks the woods once more,
We hear a flute.
It moves on earth, it is the god who plays
With the flute to his lips and music in his breath:
The god is Krishna in his lovely youth.
Louis MacNeice in _Ten Burnt Offerings_ describes a much-loved cat,
Fluid as Krishna chasing the milkmaids.
And the same Krishna, flute player and lover of milkmaids, is familiar to
British audiences from the dancing of Ram Gopal. Yet side by side with
this magnetic figure, a second, strangely different Krishna is also known.
This second Krishna is the preacher of the _Bhagavad Gita_, the great
sermon delivered on the battle-field of Kurukshetra. It is a cardinal
document of Indian ethics, and consoled Mahatma Gandhi during his work for
Indian independence. It has for many years been known in the West but has
recently attracted fresh attention through a modern translation by
Christopher Isherwood and Swami Prabhavananda. This Krishna of the _Gita_
is clearly quite different in character from the Krishna of the milkmaids
and, without some effort at reconciliation, the two must obviously present
a baffling enigma. Indeed so great is the contrast that many Englishmen,
entranced by the lover, might be astonished to hear of a more didactic
role, while those who value the _Gita_ might easily be disturbed on
finding its author so daringly identified with the theory and practice of
romantic love. The truth, if we are to admit it, is that despite
considerable acquaintance with Krishna as a name, few educated people in
the West have intimate knowledge of his story. In fact, we have only to
ask some basic questions to realize how slender is general understanding.
What, for example, were the circumstances in which Krishna was born and
why did he enter the world? Of which Indian god is he an incarnation? Who
were his parents and how did he come to live among cowherds? Who were
Radha and Rukmini? In what ways did he love the milkmaids and why has this
aspect of his story assumed such big proportions in Indian religion? Why,
in fact, is God a romantic lover? Just as few Indians, even highly
educated Indians, could survive a friendly cross-examination on details of
the New Testament, the majority of cultured Englishmen would find it hard
to answer even a few of these simple questions.
It is to remedy in part this situation that I have marshalled the material
given in this book. With certain types of issue I have made no attempt to
deal. I have not, for example, discussed statements such as 'Krishna was
not a god but a hero of a rough tribe of cowherds.' 'The Gita is an
interpolation.' 'There is general agreement on the historicity of
Krishna.' 'Radha appears to be a late addition.' Higher Criticism, whether
applied to the Bible or to the classics of Indian religion must
necessarily remain a small scholars' preserve--of vital importance to the
few but of little account to the main body of believers or to artists
illustrating adored themes. I have rather been concerned to present
information about Krishna in the form in which it has actually reached
Indian minds and has influenced belief and worship. During the last two
thousand years, various texts have dealt with Krishna, emphasizing first
one and then another aspect of his character and in the process assembling
more and more details. These texts are still revered by Indians and
although they are the product of widely separated eras, all of them have
still an air of contemporary authority. By considering them in historical
sequence, we can understand not only the subject-matter of romantic Indian
painting but realize why Krishna, the adored lover, should still enchant
religious India.
[Footnote 1: Note 1.]
[Footnote 2: Note 2.]
II
THE _MAHABHARATA_: KRISHNA THE HERO
The first reference to Krishna occurs in the _Chandogya Upanishad_ of
perhaps the sixth century B.C. _Upanishads_ were 'forest sittings' or
'sessions with teachers.' Sages and their disciples discussed the nature
of life and strove to determine the soul's exact relationship to God. The
starting-point was the theory of re-incarnation. Death, it was believed,
did not end the soul. Death was merely a stepping-stone to another life,
the soul moving from existence to existence in one long effort to escape
re-birth. From this cycle, only one experience could bring release and
that was consciousness or actual knowledge of the supreme Spirit. When
that state was achieved, the soul blended with the Godhead and the cycle
ended. The problem of problems, therefore, was how to attain such
knowledge. The _Chandogya Upanishad_ does not offer any startling solution
to this matter. The teacher who conducts the session is a certain Ghora of
the Angirasa family and it is the person of his disciple rather than his
actual message which concerns us. The disciple is called Krishna and his
mother has the name Devaki. Devaki is the later Krishna's mother and there
is accordingly every reason to suppose that the two Krishnas are the same.
Nothing, however, is stated of this early Krishna's career and although
parts of the sage's teachings have been compared to passages in the
_Gita_,[3] Krishna himself remains a vague and dim name.
For the next few centuries, knowledge of Krishna remains in this
fragmentary state. Nothing further is recorded and not until the great
Indian epic, the _Mahabharata_, crystallizes out between the fourth
century B.C. and the fourth century A.D. does a more detailed Krishna make
his appearance.[4] By the end of this period, many vital changes had taken
place. The Indian world-view had become much clearer and it is possible
not only to connect Krishna with a definite character but to see him in
clear relation to cosmic events. The supreme Spirit was now envisaged as a
single all-powerful God, known according to his functions as Brahma,
Vishnu and Siva. As Brahma, he brought into existence three
worlds--heaven, earth and the nether regions--and also created gods or
lesser divinities, earth and nature spirits, demons, ogres and men
themselves. Siva, for his part, was God the final dissolver or destroyer,
the source of reproductive energy and the inspirer of asceticism. He was
thought of in many forms--as a potent ascetic, a butcher wild for blood, a
serene dancer--and in his character of regenerator was represented by his
symbol, the _lingam_ or phallus. The third aspect, Vishnu, was God in his
character of loving protector and preserver. This great Trinity was
ultimately supreme but under it were a number of lesser powers. Those that
represented the forces of good were called _devas_ or gods. They were led
by their king, Indra, lord of clouds, and associated with him were gods
such as Agni (fire), Varuna (water), Surya the sun and Kama the god of
passion. These gods lived in Indra's heaven, a region above the world but
lower than Vaikuntha, the heaven of Vishnu. Dancing-girls and musicians
lived with them and the whole heaven resembled a majestic court on earth.
From this heaven the gods issued from time to time intervening in human
affairs. Demons, on the other hand, were their exact opposites. They
represented powers of evil, were constantly at war with the gods and took
vicious pleasure in vexing or annoying the good. Below gods and demons
were men themselves.
In this three-tiered universe, transmigration of souls was still the basic
fact but methods of obtaining release were now much clearer. A man was
born, died and then was born again. If he acted well, did his duty and
worked ceaselessly for good, he followed what was known as the path of
_dharma_ or righteousness. This ensured that at each succeeding birth he
would start a stage more favourably off than in his previous existence
till, by sheer goodness of character, he qualified for admission to
Indra's heaven and might even be accounted a god. The achievement of this
status, however, did not complete his cycle, for the ultimate goal still
remained. This was the same as in earlier centuries--release from living
by union with or absorption into the supreme Spirit; and only when the
individual soul had reached this stage was the cycle of birth and re-birth
completed. The reverse of this process was illustrated by the fate of
demons. If a man lapsed from right living, his second state was always
worse than his first. He might then be born in humble surroundings or if
his crimes were sufficiently great, he became a demon. As such, his
capacity for evil was greatly increased and his chances of ultimate
salvation correspondingly worsened. Yet even for demons, the ultimate goal
was the same--release from living and blissful identification with the
Supreme.
_Dharma_ alone, however, could not directly achieve this end. This could
be done by the path of _yoga_ or self-discipline--a path which involved
penances, meditation and asceticism. By ridding his mind of all desires
and attachments, by concentrating on pure abstractions, the ascetic
'obtained insight which no words could express. Gradually plumbing the
cosmic mystery, his soul entered realms far beyond the comparatively
tawdry heavens where the great gods dwelt in light and splendour. Going
"from darkness to darkness deeper yet," he solved the mystery beyond all
mysteries; he understood, fully and finally, the nature of the universe
and of himself and he reached a realm of truth and bliss, beyond birth and
death. And with this transcendent knowledge came another realization--he
was completely, utterly, free. He had found ultimate salvation, the final
triumph of the soul.'[5] Such a complete identification with the supreme
Spirit, however, was not easily come by and often many existences were
required before the yogi could achieve this sublime end.
There remained a third way--the path of _bhakti_ or devotion to God. If a
man loved God not as an abstract spirit but as a loving Person, if he
loved with intensity and singleness of heart, adoration itself might
obtain for him the same reward as a succession of good lives. Vishnu as
protector might reward love with love and confer immediately the blessing
of salvation.
The result, then, was that three courses were now open to a man and
whether he followed one or other depended on his own particular cast of
mind, the degree of his will-power, the strength of his passions and
finally, his capacity for renunciation, righteousness and love. On these
qualifications the upshot would largely depend. But they were not the only
factors. Since gods and demons were part of the world, a man could be
aided or frustrated according as gods or demons chose to intervene. Life
could, in fact, be viewed from two angles. On the one hand it was one long
effort to blend with the Godhead--an effort which only the individual
could make. On the other hand, it was a war between good and evil, gods
and demons; and to such a contest, God as Vishnu could not remain
indifferent. While the forces of evil might properly be allowed to test or
tax the good, they could never be permitted completely to win the day.
When, therefore, evil appeared to be in the ascendant, Vishnu intervened
and corrected the balance. He took flesh and entering the world, slew
demons, heartened the righteous and from time to time conferred salvation
by directly exempting individuals from further re-births.
It is these beliefs which govern the _Mahabharata_ epic and provide the
clue to Krishna's role. Its prime subject is a feud between two families,
a feud which racks and finally destroys them. At the same time, it is very
much more. Prior to the events narrated in the text, Vishnu has already
undergone seven incarnations, taking the forms of a fish, tortoise, boar
and man-lion and later those of Vamana the dwarf, Parasurama ('Rama with
the Axe'), and finally, the princely Rama. In each of these incarnations
he has intervened and, for the time being, rectified the balance. During
the period covered by the epic, he undergoes an eighth incarnation and it
is in connection with this supremely vital intervention that Krishna
appears.
To understand the character which now unfolds, we must briefly consider
the central story of the _Mahabharata_. This is narrated in the most
baffling and stupendous detail. Cumbrous names confront us on every side
while digressions and sub-plots add to the general atmosphere of confusion
and complexity. It is idle to hope that this vast panorama can arouse
great interest in the West and even in India it is unlikely that many
would now approach its gigantic recital with premonitions of delight. It
is rather as a necessary background that its main outlines must be
grasped, for without them Krishna's character and career can hardly be
explained.
The epic begins with two rival families each possessed of a common
ancestor, Kuru, but standing in bitter rivalry to each other. Kuru is
succeeded by his second son, Pandu, and later by Dhritarashtra, his first
son but blind. Pandu has five sons, who are called Pandavas after him,
while Dhritarashtra has a hundred sons called Kauravas after Kuru, their
common grandfather. As children the two families grow up at the same
court, but almost immediately jealousies arise which are to have a deadly
outcome. Hatred begins when in boyish contests the Pandavas outdo the
Kauravas. The latter resent their arrogance and presently their father,
the blind king, is persuaded to approve a plot by which the five Pandavas
will be killed. They are to sleep in a house which during the night will
be burnt down. The plot, however, miscarries. The house is burnt, but
unbeknown to the Kauravas, the five brothers escape and taking with them
their mother, Kunti, go for safety to the forest. Here they wander for a
while disguised as Brahmans or priests but reach at last the kingdom of
Panchala. The King of Panchala has a daughter, Draupadi, whose husband is
to be chosen by a public archery competition. Arjuna, one of the five
brothers, wins the contest and gains her as bride. The Pandavas, however,
are polyandrous and thus, on being married to one brother, Draupadi is
also married to the other four. At the wedding the Pandavas disclose their
identities. The Kauravas learn that they are still alive and in due course
are reconciled. They reinstate the Pandavas and give them half the
kingdom. Before Arjuna, however, can profit from the truce, he infringes
by accident his elder brother's privacy by stumbling on him while he is
with their common wife. As a consequence he violates a standing agreement
and has no alternative but to go into exile for twelve years. Arjuna
leaves the court, visits other lands, acquires a new wife and makes a new
alliance. In other respects, all is well and the two families look forward
to many years of peaceful co-existence.
The fates, however, seem determined on their destruction. The leader of
the Pandavas is their eldest brother, Yudhisthira. He conquers many other
lands and is encouraged to claim the title, 'ruler of the world.' The
claim is made at a great sacrifice accompanied by a feast. The claim
incenses the Kauravas and once again the ancient feud revives. Themselves
expert gamblers, they challenge Yudhisthira to a contest by dice.
Yudhisthira stupidly agrees and wagering first his kingdom, then his
brothers and finally his wife, loses all and goes again into exile. With
him go the other Pandavas, including Arjuna who has since returned. For
twelve years they roam the forests, brooding on their fate and planning
revenge. When their exile ends, they at once declare war. Both sides seek
allies, efforts at peacemaking are foiled and the two clash on the
battle-field of Kurukshetra. For eighteen days the battle rages till
finally the Pandavas are victorious. Their success, however, is at an
appalling cost. During the contest all five Pandavas lose their sons. The
hundred sons of their rival, the blind king Dhritarashtra, are dead and
with a sense of tragic futility, the epic ends.
It is as an actor in this tangled drama that Krishna appears. Alongside
the Pandavas and the Kauravas in Northern India is a powerful people, the
Yadavas. They live by grazing cattle but possess towns including a
capital, the city of Dwarka in Western India. At this capital resides
their ruler or king and with him is a powerful prince, Krishna. This
Krishna is related to the rival families, for his father, Vasudeva, is
brother of Kunti, the Pandavas' mother. From the outset, therefore, he is
placed in intimate proximity to the chief protagonists. For the moment,
however, he himself is not involved and it is only after the Pandavas have
gone into exile and reached the kingdom of Panchala that he makes his
entrance. The occasion is the archery contest for the hand of Draupadi.
Krishna is there as an honoured guest and when Arjuna makes the winning
shot, he immediately recognizes the five Pandavas as his kinsmen although
as refugees they are still disguised as Brahmans. When the assembled
princes angrily protest at Draupadi's union with a Brahman, and seem about
to fight, Krishna intervenes and persuades them to accept the decision.
Later he secretly meets the Pandavas and sends them wedding presents.
Already, therefore, he is fulfilling a significant role. He is a powerful
leader, a relative of the central figures and if only because the feud is
not his own, he is above the conflict and to some extent capable of
influencing its outcome.
His next appearance brings him closer still to the Pandavas. When Arjuna
is exiled for his breach of marriage etiquette, he visits Krishna in his
city of Dwarka. A great festival is held and in the course of it Arjuna
falls in love with Krishna's sister, Subhadra. Krishna favours the
marriage but advises Arjuna to marry her by capture. Arjuna does so and by
becoming Krishna's brother-in-law cements still further their
relationship.
This friendship has one further consequence, for, after Arjuna has
completed his exile and returned to the Pandava court, Krishna visits him
and the two go into the country for a picnic. 'After a few days, Arjuna
said to Krishna, "The summer days have come. Let us go to the River Jumna,
amuse ourselves with some friends and come back in the evening." Krishna
replied, "I would like that very much. Let us go for a bathe." So Arjuna
and Krishna set out with their friends. Reaching a fine spot fit for
pleasure and overgrown with trees, where several tall houses had been
built, the party went inside. Food and wine, wreaths of flowers and
fragrant perfumes were laid out and at once they began to frolic at their
will. The girls in the party with delightful rounded haunches, large
breasts and handsome eyes began to flirt as Arjuna and Krishna commanded.
Some played about in the woods, some in the water, some inside the houses.
And Draupadi and Subhadra who were also in the party gave the girls and
women costly dresses and garments. Then some of them began to dance, some
to sing, some laughed and joked, some drank wine. And the houses and
woods, filled with the noise of flutes and drums, became the very seat of
pleasure.'[6]
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