Rasa theory and raganuga bhakti - Purpose of writing literature

Dear VaiSNavas,

RUpa GosvAmI based his Bhakti-rasAmRta-sindhu on the rasa theory which had already existed in literature and other arts long before 16th century.

Could anyone clarify what this theory is about (especially when applied to literature)? What is, according to the exponents of this theory, the purpose of writing (and naturally also of reading) of works of literature, and how is their understanding of this purpose reflected in raganuga bhakti tradition?

Jaya RAdhe

Welcome back Yacaka, to answer your query I am tempted to cut and paste an excerpt from an excellent essay on the subject which is available on the web but is difficult to find. I hope Madhava doesn't get too annoyed at me for breaking his ('no cut and paste') rule here:

This is from:

Towards an Integral Appreciation of Abhinava's aesthetics of Rasa by Sunthar Visuvalingam.

*Also I understand that Sri Nitai Das (www.bhajankutir.net) has done his PhD thesis on the links between Abhinavagupta and Rupa*


Abhinavagupta's aesthetics is the culmination, in Kashmir by around the late 10th century, of convergent developments in Indian dramaturgy, rhetoric, linguistics, epistemology, psychology and spirituality. Drama had long been accepted as the 'total' art form that united plot, acting, dance, poetry, music, architecture, fine arts, human values and practically all other concerns of life in order to sustain and nourish an 'other-worldly' emotional enjoyment (rasa). Though rasa was also evoked by separate art forms such as (the râgas of Indian) music, only in theater was the full range of human feelings expressible in all their infinite variety and subtlety, with each emotion rendered with recognizable distinctiveness. While Bharata's theater claimed to be modeled on the 'originary' unifying principle of the solemn Vedic sacrifice but offered instead as a delightful spectacle to amuse all strata of Indian society, by this time the dramatic art had largely outgrown its ritual framework, narrowly defined, to carve out for itself in both theory and practice a specifically aesthetic domain, epitomized by rasa, that could be wholly endorsed by 'heterodox' ideologies and even by a purely 'secular' temperament. The challenge then, as it still remains now for Western thought, was to clarify the distinct nature of such 'dramatized' emotion (rasa) in terms of its rootedness in the psychology of everyday life even while accounting for its radical transformation in art. Moreover, what is the role of language in the evocation of the aesthetic response, particularly in the imaginative context of poetry? Anandavardhana's theory of 'suggestion' (dhvani), even while developing and exploring the communication of factual (vastu) and figurative (alankâra) meanings, revolves around rasa (-dhvani) as the ultimate meaning of poetic speech. However, if rasa is simply a 'subjective' psychological response on the part of the connoisseur to the 'objective' meaning of a verse, surely the former cannot be rightfully said to be the 'meaning' of the linguistic utterance. If you get upset with me for not making sense here, surely your anger can't be the meaning of what I said!



Emotions in real life are largely within the sway of the laws of psychological causation: certain events or actions by others provoke a specific emotional response that I express through characteristic, often visibly recognizable, physiological reactions, effects that can in no way be construed as the 'meaning' of the original actions. Moreover, my emotional state, if sustained, would also be modulated by a succession of concomitant transitory states of mind; for example, sexual attraction might express itself as kaleidoscopic pattern of longing, trepidation, joy, jealousy, and so on. What's represented on the stage are not just the 'causes' (vibhâva = determinants) of the intended emotion but also the 'effects' (anubhâva = consequents) that they evoke in another responsive dramatic personage (âzraya), who displays the appropriate 'transitory states of mind' (vyabhicârin = concomitant). And what evokes rasa is the (connoisseur's attempt to restore meaning to this) configuration as a coherent whole as perceived by the mind's eye. As we 'infer' the emotion in the âzraya, the accumulated traces (samskâra) of the same predisposition are awakened from our own subconscious and our hearts begin to resonate (hrdaya-samvâda) with their fluctuations depicted by the dramatis personae. Instead of 'responding' behaviorally to the transposed psychological causes, the focus is instead on understanding the interactions on stage by supplying the relevant emotional motivations from our own store of latent memories. This 'identification' (tanmayî-bhavana) is so complete that we seem to be experiencing the same emotion without any distinction of self and other. This is precisely why our whole-hearted enjoyment of Sîtâ's beauty through the eyes of Lord Râma is no stigma to Indian aesthetics.



Through aesthetic identification, an emotional stimulus that was originally unique (asâdhârana) to a particular âzraya becomes in this way 'generalized' (sâdhâranî-karaNa) into an object of relish for the spectators at large, who experience the corresponding rasa (e.g., zrngâra = love) in an 'impersonal' mode in the sense of its being not conditioned by an ascertainment of the form "I am in love" (which would result in a purposive attitude) or "he/she is in love" (which would leave one indifferent). Worldly (laukika) emotion immediately engenders a stream of cogitation, impelled by purposivity towards the external stimulus, which sustains the feeling of self as distinct from other. The choice is between a 'personal' interest and the withdrawal of attention due to indifference or other more insistent matters. In the aesthetic context, the emotion, even while being nourished and intensified by the evolution of the artistic configuration, is arrested at the initial (i.e., pre-discursive) stage of development because the sustenance (and not just the 'production') of rasa depends on focusing the attention (avadhâna) on restoring coherence to the 'conjunction of determinants, consequents and concomitants' (Bharata's famous axiom on rasa). Though Bharata states that the 'basic emotion' (sthâyi-bhâva) 'becomes' the rasa through the action of these three elements, Abhinava clarifies that what is really experienced is only the rasa, and it is only by analogy that it's appropriate to identify it with the corresponding worldly emotion. As darkness envelops the galleries of our mundane day-to-day consciousness, such rapt attention is rendered possible by our voluntary suspension of purposive attitudes (artha-kriyâ-kâritva) in favor of an intentness to enjoy whatever the spotlight of a receptive consciousness reveals before us. This 'catharsis' that' purifies the emotions from their biological inertia and self-centeredness is also, paradoxically, what renders the experience of rasa all the more intense and enjoyable. The spectacle thus also creates and reinforces a psychic bond among the 'participating' community even as had Greek tragedy or the sacrificial ritual. Whereas our mundane psychology is characterized by a flow of ideation driven and buffeted by instinctual needs that are often below the surface and corresponding efforts of reason to negotiate and escape their thralldom, rasa is willingly evoked and sustained by the combined faculties of the discriminating intellect, thereby achieving the reconciliation of thought and emotion that constitutes culture.



Rasa is hence not the psychological 'effect' that the artistry 'produces' in us but rather the (source and) inner organizing principle of the aesthetic creation, its very meaning. We do not particularly relish the emotions of others inferred in real life, so the aesthetic emotion cannot be reduced to the rasa merely deduced in the âzraya (it's irrelevant whether the actor is really feeling that or any emotion). The dramatic spectacle does not simply 'intensify' our worldly emotions, for we would otherwise never lose an opportunity to fall into a fit of psychopathic anger or wallow in suicidal depression. Nor is theater an illusion for we do not mistake the objective configuration for something else, but rather reorganize the sensory data through an active apperception (anuvyavasâya) focused on the enjoyment of rasa. For the same reason, it's not an imitation, as the simultaneous (bisociated) perception of the imitated and the imitating element can only amount to caricature provoking laughter. Rasa is ultimately not even an emotional object presented to consciousness but rather a specific non-mundane (alaukika) mode of cognition (bodha, pratîti) that is indistinguishable from an active relishing (âsvâdana, rasanâ). Since emotions--not even love, the basis for that most delectable rasa, the erotic sentiment (zrngâra)--are not relishable per se, what is really enjoyed is the reflexivity (vimarza) of consciousness as mediated by a particular emotional state. This is why Abhinavagupta repeatedly equates rasa with a more fundamental and universal 'aesthetic rapture' (camatkâra) that reveals itself in a variety of circumstances that are not artistic in the conventional sense, particularly in modes of 'spiritualizing' otherwise 'worldly' experience. Though evoked or, rather, mirrored by the emotions in the typical aesthetic context, rasa is ultimately an inalienable property of consciousness itself.



The burden of conveying the sensory effects of the aesthetic configuration (plot, etc.) is borne in poetry (kâvya) by language alone. What is lost in terms of the vivid but relatively passive overpowering of the eye (gesture, costume, props, etc.), and the ear (music, song, dialogue, etc.) must be compensated for by a more subtle, discriminating and rarefied use of words that demands a correspondingly greater (re-) creative effort on the part of the hearer. The direct expression of feelings (e.g., "I love you") is in bad poetic taste because it fails to evoke the corresponding emotion in the connoisseur. Rasa can only be 'suggested' (vyangya) through the presentation of determinants, consequents and concomitants that may themselves be merely suggested (e.g., the mutual glances of estranged lovers through averted eyes). The highest form of 'suggestion' (dhvani) is where the poem is 'dramatized' (nâTyâyita) by the imagination so that all the signifying elements of sound, syntax, rhythm, rhyme, fact, figure, context, association and composite sense converge on the evocation of rasa as the 'primary meaning' (mukhyârtha). There are also other possibilities: the suggested meanings may be subordinated (guNî-bhûta-vyangya) to the directly expressed sense to enrich and beautify the latter; there might be an interplay of figures of speech, some literal and others merely suggested so that they resonate together with tantalizing hints of unexpressed thoughts; the emotion itself may serve only to provide texture to a strikingly apt description or idea - there are no bounds to language! What is more, the sparing yet strategic deployment of (often carefully half-defined) poetic speech can capture, highlight and immortalize fleeting and otherwise ineffable moods, as exemplified by the erotic verses of Amaru that Abhinava delights in dissecting to make his theoretical points. Though the theory of suggestion (dhvani) as an additional third power of language, over and above direct and figurative meaning, was propounded only in the 10th century, the illustrations cataloguing its diverse possibilities were largely drawn from the classical poets (like Kâlidâsa). Though this 'theorizing' of prior implicit criteria and techniques was largely to counter the inordinate (and often flamboyant) resort to the mechanical aspects of the poet's craft such as figures of speech to the detriment of good taste, it has thereby enabled the explicit articulation and application of such hitherto 'tacit' principles to practical literary criticism.



Though aesthetic relish is intrinsically amoral, the objective configurations that evoke rasa must be grounded in our shared experiences and memories of the real world. Since our pursuit of various life goals (puruSârtha)--(sexual) pleasure (kâma), wealth-security-power (artha), socio-religious obligations (dharma) and salvation (mokSa)--are translations of our basic emotional dispositions into rationalized personal and cultural values, the various opportunities, challenges and circumstances that are presented on the stage to evoke rasa inevitably bring into play the questions of ethics. Powerful emotions are engendered through the conflict of values and their resolution; the personal values of the spectator unavoidably color one's perception, impeding or facilitating identification with the protagonists so crucial to the evocation of the intended rasa. Hence Indian dramaturgy aligns the four basic emotions of love (rati --> zrngâra), aggression (krodha --> raudra), enterprise (utsâha --> vîra) and quiescence (zama --> zânta) with the ascending cultural hierarchy of the life-goals. Though in itself transcending all (purposivity and hence) value-judgments, rasa is sustained by a dramatic representation that embraces the whole spectrum of cultural values. Abhinava hence enjoins that these primary emotions should be depicted on stage so as to inculcate the proper pursuit of their corresponding life-goals. Even the subsidiary emotions indirectly contribute to this schema: for example, humor (hâsya), though enhancing especially the enjoyment of the erotic sentiment, can also be employed to depict and censure the improper pursuit of any of these legitimate life-goals. Since we are able to enjoy the rasa only by participating in the values projected by the (idealized) protagonists, the underlying moral injunctions are subliminally implanted and reinforced as through the tender ministrations of a loving wife. Classical Sanskrit theater thus reflects a convergence of aesthetics and ethics, a traditional Indian exposed to such cultural pedagogy would often act appropriately because this was not just morally right but also a matter of good taste.



The enjoyment of rasa is not a 'spiritual' experience in the regular sense, for some of its choice expressions are in love-poetry with absolutely no religious overtones, so much so that it's been possible to claim (with king Bhoja) that the erotic sentiment (zrngâra) is indeed the rasa par excellence permeating all the other emotions. At the same time, the ability to discriminate the nuances merely suggested by the poem and to identify aesthetically with its emotional 'texture' presupposes not just an inner detachment on the part of the connoisseur (sa-hrdaya) but also a certain 'purity' of heart (hrdaya), so much so that for Abhinava the fundamental rasa is that of tranquility (zânta) which all the other rasas emerge from and disappear into, just as the phenomenal world itself may be understood as waves 'ruffling' the calm mirror of the enlightened state. Rasa is thus characterized by a peculiar state of awareness that simultaneously 'transcends' (lokottara) both the 'objective' configuration and also the corresponding 'subjective' emotion, but is nevertheless, unlike the introversion of a yogin, receptive to and intent on enjoying the sensory impressions. In this respect, it is both a fore-taste and after-taste of the sort of 'mystical' experience privileged by Abhinavagupta that dissolves the distinction between the sacred and the profane. When rooted in and illuminated by spiritual insight (bolstered by intellectual discrimination), this 'aesthetic stance' may be generalized to the world at large, such that the experience of rasa is no longer (evoked and) conditioned by a specifically 'artistic' artifact but is also revealed even in biological pleasures (such as eating, drinking and sex) or ritual activities (such as the religious devotion of an Utpaladeva) as an inherent and inalienable property of reflexivity (vimarza) within consciousness. Such 'aesthetic rapture' (camatkâra), even independently of the play of emotions in the mirror of art, is the original referent of the term 'rasa' in the UpaniSads (raso vai sah).



Historically, the emergence and consolidation of Indian aesthetics may be replaced within the larger matrix of the parallel evolution of other semi-autonomous domains such as philosophy, law, 'sectarian' religion and so on, from the mythico-ritual roots of the Vedic tradition, wherein these disciplines are not clearly distinguished. Neither the Rig-Vedic 'poems' nor even classical epic poetry, with its long stretches of descriptive verse and didactic intent, can be satisfactorily accounted for in terms of rasa-theory, whereas one discovers abundant use of figures of speech and sound-effects. Of the ten forms of drama (daza-rûpaka) enunciated by Bharata, many seem to have been of ritual orientation and have as such been lost (so that we may only guess their nature), whereas others seem to have survived only at the cost of profound transformations that reflected socio-cultural change. Thus the vîthî appears, in the light of the definitions of its various elements, to have been a riddle-play, drawing inspiration from the verbal jousts of the assembly hall (sabhâ) and eventually going back to the Vedic enigma-contests (brahmodya). The only way Abhinava is able to vindicate this category is to 'aestheticize' our understanding of these elements by finding illustrations of such verbal wit and linguistic ambiguity in the sentimental (often humorous) repartees of the love-dramas (nâtikâ). An earlier commentator had surmised that Bharata had more or less synthesized two pre-existing schools of drama, namely the brahmanical and the Shaiva, a thesis that Abhinava refutes not so much on historical grounds but because such composite origins with undermine the authority of the Nâtya Shâstra. It seems wholly plausible that the brahmanical genres and practice would have been highly ritualistic and modeled on the Vedic sacrifice (as exemplified by the theatrical preliminaries), whereas the Shaiva current would have remained closely linked to the 'shamanistic' possibilities of dance and the tantric transmutation of the emotions. The transgressive Pâshupata ascetics not only worshipped Shiva-Rudra as the Lord of Dance but were also expected to be familiar with the theatrical art. Bharata's school might have recast the interiority of rasa within the authoritative Vedic framework but with the focus now on entertaining a much larger 'lay' public through epic. legendary, and profane themes. Restoring the authority of tradition for the contemporary mind would consist rather in demonstrating the coherence of the synthesis around a unified vision that in the past was affirmed through (the fiction of) single (often 'eponymous') authorship (whether to Bharata, Vyâsa or other 'compiler').





Significantly, the earliest fragments of Indian drama date (1st C. A.D.) from the brahmin AzvaghoSa, the prodigious Buddhist critic of Vedic tradition. Having long resisted theater for being an even more evanescent replica of the ephemeral world, the 'heterodox' faith gradually came around to appropriating its powers for the propagation among laymen of the Buddha's world-negating message. Paradoxically, this resulted in the 'secularization' of the Sanskrit theater that we may recognize even in the surviving 'Hindu' plays with a 'worldly' (prakarana), legendary (nâTaka) or erotic (nâtikâ) theme. The rasa-problematic presupposes this opposition between the world and its transcendence, that Abhinava has simply inherited and attempts to resolve at various levels.



Partaking in both the spiritual and the sensuous poles of human experience, the enjoyment of art is something less than either pole though potentially capable of embracing and surpassing both. Not only may any transcendental underpinnings be denied by the modern artistic sensibility, the overflowing experience of rasa that sometimes spontaneously emerges in the course of the 'ascending' modes of Indian spirituality, such as the wholly introspective yogic discipline, is canonically recognized as much, if not more, as an obstacle to full illumination than as a sure sign of progress. Both the Vedic brahmin intent on sacrifice and the early Buddhist monks intent on liberation were averse to the temptations of the senses even, and perhaps especially, when they were disguised as art. On the other hand, the aesthetic experience may be said to be derivative in the sense that this imaginative 're-creation' presupposes and depends on (our prior experience of) the real world of practical pursuits. Whereas the modern artist may trespass on the territory of the philosopher, mystic, politician, linguist, etc., in seeking to create his/her own values, the traditional kavi (poet) simply endorsed, illustrated, propagated and humanized the existing order of things and inherited value system that had required a long period of apprenticeship to assimilate and master. Aesthetics comes into its own particularly in those domains of endeavor where the spirit casts its shadow upon the world of the senses that in turn reach out towards their own hidden unifying principle. Here's where cultural 'choices' have been made: where ethical imperatives have been articulated around the life of the emotions, where the details of human scientia are transmitted in context, where an experiential feel of proportion and balance is shared with a younger generation that's been exposed only to the theory, where creative energies are awakened, challenged and offered models worthy of emulation. The aesthetics of rasa has flowered in the thought of Abhinavagupta, precisely because his philosophical endeavor has been to conceptualize a (for him) supreme mode of 'mystical' experience that dissolves the opposition between transcendence and immanence, sacred and profane, the spiritual and the sensuous.



Abhinava stretches the transcendental possibilities of the aesthetic experience in two ways. Firstly, the rasa of tranquility (zânta) is given the supreme place as corresponding to the pursuit of the highest human goal of spiritual emancipation and presided over as such by the Buddha. His defense of zânta consists largely of demonstrating the possibility of its practical implementation on the stage in terms of motivation, plot, recognition, identification, etc. Why would a liberated soul pursue a consistent course of action? By what external consequents would we recognize his inner peace? How could worldly spectators empathize with his (lack of) behavior? Secondly, zânta is shown to underlie the other eight 'orthodox' rasas constituting as it were the indispensable 'rasa-ness' of what would otherwise be merely mundane emotions. So much so that he is now obliged to turn around and clarify that the canonical distinction between the basic emotion (sthâyin) and its corresponding rasa still holds good even for the 'cessation' (zama) / 'tranquility' (zânta) pair. Yet, Abhinava's own privileged (Tantric) mode of spiritual experience was one where the barrier between the transcendent and the immanent was completely dissolved such that the world of the senses was not just reflected within but a mere phenomenal projection (âbhâsa) of the supreme Consciousness. He also affirms that any of the emotions, not just zânta, could serve as the springboard for emancipation: for example, a consistent attitude of laughing at the whole world as incongruous! Such dispassionate ubiquitous laughter did characterize the Pâzupata ascetic. Emotion binds only because it is directed at particular objects as opposed to others, when universalized, love, for example, liberates rather than enslaves us to the object of attachment. This latter possibility was developed in subsequent centuries, particularly in Bengal, into a full-fledged aesthetics of 'devotion' (bhakti) to a supreme personal God who transcends the objects of the senses that are nevertheless offered up in worship as manifestations of his/her glory. Bhakti too serves as an emotional bridge between the world and its transcendence, and as such it's possible to rework the entire sensuous framework of rasa-aesthetics around the attitude of personal devotion. Infused with such aesthetic sensibility, the nectar of bhakti-rasa overflows the confines of both (secular) art and (religious) ritual to outpour already into the hymns of Utpaladeva, who promulgated the new non-dualist doctrine of the 'Recognition of the Lord' (îsvara-pratyabhijñâ): 'become' God to worship God (or, if you prefer, realize your own Godhood by worshipping God).



Like aesthetics, bhakti may be approached in two ways: as hovering between the transcendental and the immanent, as seems to be the stance of the (qualified) dualism of some, especially VaiSnava, philosophical schools; or fully embracing the opposing poles, as with the Trika, which claims to be an inclusive supreme non-dualism (parâdvaita) that integrates the dualist perspective. Though a valid and desirable emotion, Abhinava himself rejects bhakti as a separate rasa for the same reason that he refuses other propositions such as 'affection for a child' (vâtsalya), etc., that they would result in an uncontrollable multiplication of entities whereas Bharata offered a still workable scheme of eight rasas. Instead, he treats bhakti (etc.) as a particular mode of 'love' (rati) that is best known and universally enjoyed in its expression as the erotic sentiment (zrngâra). His tantric writings, as opposed to those on aesthetics proper, would rather suggest that zrngâra might be the ultimate rasa. The spiritualization of the 'libido' (kâma) in the (often transgressive) context of sexual enjoyment is indeed the occasion for the most exuberant and even 'somatic' descriptions of the effervescence of rasa, for example, as an 'interiorized emission' (vîrya-vikSobha) that powerfully vitalizes the 'heart' overflowing with indescribable emotions. Through the 'primordial sacrifice' (kula-yâga), 'physiological' pleasure and even objects of disgust become transmuted into an 'aesthetic' experience that reveals the ultimate (anuttara) nature of Reality. The independence of the aesthetic domain, vis-à-vis the moral, the religious, the profane, is brought into relief when these 'underground' writings are juxtaposed to his public commentaries on formal art. After all, Amaru's love-poems celebrate the erotic as such without moral edification nor religious intent. Some of the persistent motifs of Indian poetry, such as the celebration of the adulterous woman (abhisârikâ), would be even construed as 'immoral' were they to spill over into real life as worthy of enactment, as they do in certain 'tantricized' modes of (even VaiSnava) devotion (such as the Sahajîya). While exploring 'devotion' in all its human possibilities (between friends, towards child, husband, parents, king, suicide, etc.), bhakti too has not just countenanced such transgressive attitudes but even encouraged them as the supreme manifestation of surrender.
(end of excerpt, see http://www.svabhinava.org/abhinava/default.htm for full essay).

Sorry if that's a heavy piece to wade through. I'll give a summary:

The Indian theory of Rasa applied especially to Drama performed in the Theatre. (Drama speech was usually in rhymed verse: poetry- kavya) Indians, like ancient Greeks, felt that the powerful emotions produced by a Drama performance had a divine origin. Religious Dramas especially gave insights into the Divine through the upsurging emotions they produce: called Rasa.

The earliest Rasa theorist was Bharat who wrote on the method of writing effective dramas about 2 millenia ago. The next great theorist was Abhinavagupta, the focus of this essay, who seems to have established some links with Rasa and the Kashmiri Saivism ('Trika') which was his religion, thus he aimed at Shanta Rasa: perfect peace.

Rupa seems to be the first who went all the way, proclaiming that there are divine Rasas (other than Shanta) by which we experience God in a variety of ways. His Bhakti-rasa-amrita-sindhu elaborates his case, and to answer your question on how he links Rasa to Raganuga Bhakti, we would perhaps need to go right through the book. I don't have access to a copy so I am unable to do this right now.

But the comparison between Abhinava, who believed in ultimate peace, a divine state of repose (or did he? I still don't understand the concept of Mukti in Trika*), and Rupa, who elaborated the Vaishnava belief in a dynamic Godhead Who perpetually interacts with souls in variegated pastimes is important to note.

Braj Mohan Das.

* Perhaps it is more accurate to say that Rupa implies a Platonic Duality between matter and spirit, and his Rasas are Spiritual in that sense; while in Abhinava's Non-Dual Monism, most of the Rasas other than Shanta must be material because in his view they are temporary.

A good bit of text. I don't think we have a strict no copy and paste rule here. Copy/paste is a no-no, when it is (1) repeatedly done to propagate a certain cause, (2) off-topic, or (3) interrupting the discussion. If someone already wrote an essay in response to a question, it shouldn't be an issue to post it in.

I recall Vopadeva, with his Mukta-phala and another work whose name I forget, already applied the theory of rasa in examining the expressions of bhakti, to some extent. It is beyond a doubt, though, that Rupa Gosvami is the first one who presented it systematically and in a very developed form.


We have it in the Grantha Mandira.

What exactly is the question here on how rasa is linked with raganuga-bhakti?

Nitai also was comparing Rupa's rasa theory to writings by of all people Nietzche at one point. Perhaps someone can goad him into participating in this discussion. I already emailed the topic to him.

OK, OK, I've been goaded. Yes, I wrote my dissertation on the rasa theory of Sri Rupa and its relationship to earlier Sanskrit aesthetic theories of rasa. Shortly, I will post some parts of that on my wedsite (www.bhajankutir.net) in the Book Garden section. The parts I will post are in the process of being converted from my dissertation format to the format I now write in. Thus, things like the footnotes are not there yet. The chapters I post will give a good idea of my line of thinking on the question anyway.

The basic line of argument is that Rupa was not as original as some imagine him to be, nor was he influenced that much by Abhinavagupta and the Kasmiri line of literary criticism. He was more profoundly influenced by King Bhoja (11th cent.) whose rasa theory constituted an alternate and often overlooked tradition of thought on rasa. I also discuss Bopadeva and Laksmidhara (Bhagavan-nama-kaumudi) as predecessors to Rupa in the area of bhakti-rasa.

Rather than reproduce what I have said there, I invite those interested to just go and grab the pdf on my site. Actually, I see I can include a file with this posting. Here it is, then.

Radhe Shyam!

Nitai Das

Wow, thanks Nitai. I've been waiting to glimpse this and now hungrily reading it.

I previously tried to download KLS and Vedanta Sara from the book garden several times but the files were somehow incomplete. This time I have persisted and succeeded. I am amazed that these are entire published books. This generosity of Nitai Das in granting free access to books he has commercially published is unparalleled. They are also superb books, well-written, up-to-date, full of interesting insights.

May I here express my thanks to Nitai Das for his extraordinary generosity.
Braj Mohan Das.

Quoting Yacaka:

What is, according to the exponents of this theory, the purpose of writing (and naturally also of reading) of works of literature, and how is their understanding of this purpose reflected in raganuga bhakti tradition?

1-Purpose of reading/writing literature?
Bharat wrote for Drama, so the question should really be What is the function of Drama in Ancient Indian society? For the Greeks, Drama was a religious event, so even if ancient Indian Dramas like the famous Shakuntala were entertaining, we can assume that religious purpose was not excluded for Indians either.

2-How is this reflected in Raganuga?
Mahaprabhu's followers were initially very involved in Drama performance too, such as Svarupa Damodar's Jagannath-priya-natakam and the various performances described in Chaitanya Charitamrita. But, especially in Vrindavan, Gaudiyas became solitary Hermits/Ascetics. So they increasingly 'performed' their Drama mentally. I will make a bald assertion:

Raganuga Internalises Rasa Drama!

Which brings us back to the question of 'Literature'. Rupa wrote several Dramas too, but his later works, and those of his associate Sri Ragunath Gosvami, seem increasingly meant for individual private reading/memorising, to nourish the internal Rasa-producing Divine Drama which individual devotees are meant to cultivate. Certainly this is how Raganugiyas use these texts now.

I am really glad that my initial question triggered off such an erudite discussion and I will only welcome further similar contributions. What I wanted to know, though, were just the basics, because I know about rasa theory very little– that’s why, when I asked about the purpose of writing literature, I wanted to learn what is the aim of the author who writes a work of literature according to the principles of rasa theory. Does he/she want to entertain? Educate? Improve the character or morals of the audience? Because, for example, I think (please, correct me if I am wrong) that one of the main goals of Greek plays was to impress or to move the audience by showing the tragic fate of the main hero, thereby causing catharsys, or purification of consciousness. Is that similar to rasa theory?

The second part of my question was how rasa theory (its purpose, ways to achieve this purpose) works in raganuga bhakti.



Braj Mohan Dasji, could you please elaborate on that religious purpose?

All right. Let me first present a brief overview of the concept of rasa in the theology of Rupa Gosvami.

The experience called rasa, or bhakti-rasa, often equated with prema, consists of five ingredients.

(1) Sthayi-bhava (permanent emotion) -- Sthayi-bhava is the basis of experiencing bhakti-rasa, and it has five prominent varieties: (a) neutrality, (b) servitude, ( c) friendship, (d) parental love, and (e) amorous love.

(2) Vibhava (provoking emotion) -- Vibhava is known to be that which inspires the experience of sthayi-bhava, and is of two varieties, (a) the persons who provoke the exchange of emotions, namely the object of love, Krishna, and the reservoir of love, the devotee, and B) items connected with Krishna.

(3) Anubhava (consequent emotion) -- Anubhavas are expressions of emotion such as crying, laughing and singing, which naturally follow in the wake of the primary emotion.

(4) Sattvika-bhava (ecstatic emotion) -- Sattvika-bhavas are powerful ecstatic emotions which arise in the devotee without any conscious intention when he is overwhelmed with blissful love. Becoming stunned, fainting and faltering of voice are examples of sattvika-bhava.

(5) Vyabhicari-bhava (surging emotion) -- Vyabhicari-bhavas are surging emotions, which appear on the foundation of sthayi-bhava just as waves rise and fall in the ocean. Excitement, shyness and jubilation are examples of vyabhicari-bhava.

Among the five, sthayi-bhava serves as the foundation on which the experience of rasa is built. There are twelve kinds of rati (another term for sthayi-bhava) which serve as the basis for twelve rasas. These twelve rasas are divided into primary (mukhya-rasa) and secondary (gauna-rasa). The five primary ratis at the root of the main rasas are known as follows:

(1) Santa-rati (neutrality): When love for the Supreme is experienced upon beholding His glory, without experiencing a particular impetus for engaging in His service, the emotion forming the basis of the relationship is known as santa-rati.

(2) Prita-rati (servitude): When love for the Supreme Person is experienced either as the reverence and submission felt by a servant towards his master, or as the respect and esteem that a son feels for his father, the emotion forming the basis of the relationship is called dasya-rati.

(3) Preyo-rati (friendship): When love for the Supreme Person is experienced with feelings of intimacy and equality, devoid of the sense of obligation felt by a servant, the emotion forming the basis of the relationship is called sakhya-rati.

(4) Vatsalya-rati (parental affection): When love for the Supreme Person is experienced as His dependence upon the devotee's nourishing, blessing and looking after Him, the emotion forming the basis of the relationship is called vatsalya-rati.

(5) Madhurya-rati (amorous affection): When love for the Supreme Person is experienced as feelings of amorous affection, as experienced between the lover and the beloved, or between the husband and the wife, the emotion forming the basis of the relationship is called madhurya-rati.

They are also popularly known as santa, dasya, sakhya, vatsalya and madhurya.

The seven secondary ratis are (1) hasya (laughter), (2) adbhuta (astonishment), (3) vira (heroism), (4) karuna (pity), (5) raudra (anger), (6) bhayanaka (fear), and (7) vibhatsa (disgust). They can mix with the five primary ratis either to nourish them or to temporarily become prominent before them.

On the abovementioned basis, Sri Rupa Gosvami has elaborately analyzed the lila of Radha-Krishna and the realm they inhabit. The purpose of the presentation is, naturally, to facilitate the sadhaka's entrance into the realm of lila through comprehensive education in the details of the lila.

A significant difference in the application of the theory of rasa between Rupa and the ancient authors is one of purpose -- while the latter desired to perfect the experience of a drama to bring the audience momentarily out of the worries and troubles of the world, the former desired to offer a permanent gateway to an alternative reality, the eternal reality of the everlasting drama of Vraja-lila.

Thank you Madhavaji for the overview and the above insight. I think I understand now how the concept of rasa works in raganuga bhakti.

However, let's return to the first part of my question and purpose of rasa theory of non-raganuga writers. Is there not more to rasa theory than just make the audience forget for a while the harsh reality of the world around? Is it all just about entertainment? I think that all spheres of knowledge originated from Vedas and they all directly or indirectly lead us back to this divine source. Is this not the case also with literary theory?

Adiyen too mentioned that Indians, like ancient Greeks, felt that the powerful emotions produced by a Drama performance had a divine origin (28/6/03, 3.35 AM) and that there was some religious element involved as well...

Could anyone please elucidate this to a curious neophyte like me?

Someone should summon Nitai and Jagadananda to participate in this thread.

Well, I checked back in to see how the discussion was going and it looks like some good things have been said. Madhava has done a fine job with his presentation of bhakti-rasa. The question remains however about rasa itself. What was its purpose and objective. One thing to remember about the rasa theory, whether of the Abhinavagupta or the Bhoja variety: it is framed to try to understand an experience that highly cultivated connoisseurs have when viewing fine plays and hearing fine poetry. That experience is generally described as intense and overwhelming, perhaps even all-consuming, joy. The question then for the theorists is where does that joy come from. Basically two answers have been given: Abhinavagupta's in which he says the joy is the innate joy of the self which the processes of generalization and focusing in the context of viewing art serve to free from its mundane clutter. Thus, the rasa experience is none other than the experience of the self (atman) tinged by some resident emotion (one of the nine sthayi-bhavas). Since the self is fundamentally sat cit and ananda the experience is one of luminous joy and peace (vishranti). This is why, Abhinavagupta says, some theorists have called rasa the younger brother of the joy of Brahman (brahmananda-sahodara). Thus, rasa gives one a brief taste of the purified self for Abhinavagupta and his tradition. For Bhoja the answer is different. He says that rasa is the experience of love (srngara) which a quality of the self and which is the fundamental emotion. All other emotions are but fragmented forms of or refracted forms of love. Without this fundamental love the experience of rasa in art would be impossible and when one experiences rasa one moves beyond those fragmented forms of srngara to the unified experience of srngara itself. For Bhoja, then, the experience of rasa was also an avenue of self-discovery. They [differ] on how they viewed the self, one (Abhinava) in a more impersonal mode and the other (Bhoja) in a more personal mode.

Well this is a very brief and rough sketch of the history of rasa aesthetics in India up to about the time of Rupa. I sketch the two rasa traditions in my thesis. Look there for more details.

hope this helps.

Radhe Radhe!

nitai das

______________________________________________________

I took the liberty of editing Nitai's post for clarity - my changes are in brackets [ ]
- Minaketan Ramdas at your service

What a wonderful answer, Nitai dasji! I was very glad to learn that the purpose of rasa theory is not just mere entertainment. If I understand it correctly, the purpose of literature/drama written/performed according to rasa theory IS to give us pleasure, but not the ordinary pleasure which binds us to our bodies, but the pleasure which is Divine in nature and which will help us transcend the three gunas and thus facilitate liberation. What a noble objective!

Speaking about liberation, of course there are as many views about it as many philosophies. Abhinavagupta or Bhoja may differ from one another in this regard but ultimately it does not matter because every individual seeker will embrace that particular conception he or she finds suitable for him or her. What is more important is that they both agree that experiencing rasa leads one to one’s self-realisation. Of course, raganugiya bhaktas will always scorn impersonal liberation, engaging instead in personal interactions with personal God, as it is delineated by Rupa in BRS.

I find rasa theory very fascinating and this discussion made my interest in it even stronger. Unfortunately, the link to Nitai das’ thesis didn’t work for me, probably I will have to try to download it on another computer.

For the time being I have no further questions but I may have some later after I spend some time studying books related to this phenomenon.

Thanking all devotees and bowing with respect,

A very interesting discussion indeed. But I would like to point out one important thing. According to the Sanskrit poetics the aesthetic delight is qualitatively different from the pleasure derived from the sense objects in our day-to-day life. Some even say that literary rasa is on the same plane as the experience of Brahman or very much similar to the bliss of realisation of Brahman. Gaudiya Vaisanava Acaryas, however, reject this view, because alaukikatva in poetics is only a super-normal experience of mundane joy. Therefore, they do not attach much importance to this kind of mundane experience despite the fact that it contains an element of astonishment (camatkAra) which is the very essence of rasa. Experience of bliss that is tasted by a bhakta arises out of aprAkRta-vizuddha-sattva while the bliss of the secular theoreticians is one arising out of the preponderance of prAkRta-sattva (see PrIti-sandarbha 110). In other words, secular rasa is just an effect of mAyA-zakti, whereas prema-rasa is a function of the svarUpa-zakti of BhagavAn. So what is important, what makes the difference, is the object of rasa. When the object is mundane, i.e. within the three modes of material nature, the rasa is mundane, when the object is BhagavAn, it is trancendental. But of course, the experience of the transcendental rasa is not possible for every Tom, Dick and Harry. Literature in sattva-guna has a kind of positive effect, because sattva-guna, as we can read in the Bhagavadgita, is purifying. Nevertheless, Jiva Goswami says in the above mentioned section of Priti Sandarbha that the vibhavas of prAkRta-rati can produce only disgust (bibhatsa-rasa) and no other rasa is possible.

ys.

Robert Gafrik

Thanks for the input, rg. I just have one comment. Some terms should be defined when used. In this case, 'transcendental' caught my attention. Please explain your use of it. Otherwise, it does not convey anything meaningful, and becomes just a useless buzzword. Many religious publications of the past forty years bandy that word about, but they generally make the same mistake of failing to define it first. Historically, it has very a very different context, depending upon the author that has used it. In books by Kant it is something very different from what it means when found in the writings of Thoreau for example.

Dear Ananga, I think it is already explained in the text what I mean with the word 'transcendental'. I wrote that this transcendental rasa is a function of the svarUpa-zakti of bhagavAn, that it is aprAkRta-vizuddha-sattva. I don't know how to explain it more clearly using Gaudiya Vaisnava terminology.

I have been wondering for a few days now how to respond to Robert Gafrik's post on the subject of rasa. At one point I decided not to respond at all and then I began to think: "If not me, who?" There is something very instructive in Robert's posting and I think we can learn a great deal from his posting and hopefully my response to it.

On the one hand it is wonderful to see that someone has actually read the Priti-sandarbha and apparently understood it. On the other, it is rather sad to see that he has gone no further than that by asking the simple question: "Is Sri Jiva's indeed a correct representation of the position of the rasa aestheticians?" I suppose that question sounds a bit odd to some. Why would one question the veracity of someone like Sri Jiva? Well, on some things one probably wouldn't. He was indeed vastly learned and a great devotee, certainly far greater than me on both counts. Still, he wasn't equally great on all subjects and I think he was severely limited his historical circumstances. I think he has misunderstood rasa aesthetics and that Robert by not questioning his position is merely perpetuating that misunderstanding.

For the rasa aestheticians the joy of rasa does not derive from any mundane source. Rasa occurs just where maya is weakened or stretched thin and the real joy of the self temporarily shines through. The joy of rasa derives from the joy of atman which, because maya has been temporarily weakened in the context of the experience of art, is freed from its bounds. Rasa is the joy of the self slightly colored by one of the primary emotions. Those primary emotions only give rasa a little flavor and distinguish them one from the other. All of the aestheticians I have read recognize that rati is a product of maya and they all agree that rati cannot be a source of real joy. What happens when rati is represented in art, however, is that it becomes generalized (sadharanikarana), that is, detached from this time and the represented in the art, detached from this person and that person. The time and circumstance of the play and the time and circumstance of the viewing act to cancel each other out allowing the self to be elevated out of both and allowing it to essentially become aware of its own innate joy. This is where the astonishment comes from because such a result is unexpected. Thus it is the process that is important for the aestheticians not the quality of the rati. This is mostly a representation of Abhinavagupta's position, though it applies with some alterations to Bhoja, too.

For Jiva it is the quality of the rati that matters. Krsna-rati is aprakrta-visuddha-sattva. That is why and how it can be relished as bhakti-rasa. The process doesn't mattter. That is why bhakti-rasa doesn't depend on representation in plays or poetry. It can be experienced walking down the street and spotting a peacock feather. The problem is that he thinks that prakrita rati is the source of rasa in kavya and drama. It thus can only be experienced as bibhatsa for him because prakrta rati is by nature disgusting. He totally disregards the process and power of generalization. To sum up, for the rasa aestheticians it is the process that counts while for Jiva it is the quality of the rati that counts.

Why was it that Jiva mistook the theory of the rasa aestheticians? Well, he didn't have very much access to it. All he had were third and fourth generation texts like the Sahitya-darpana in which Abhinava's ideas were watered down and disfigured. If he had access to Abhinava's commentaries on the Natya-sastra or on the Dhvanyaloka he would certainly have seen things differently. He would have, I believe, afforded rasa a place in relation to bhakti-rasa roughly equivalent to the place he gives to brahman with respect to Krsna. Brahman is the state of the absolute in which none of the powers (saktis) are expressed. In Krsna they are all expressed. Rasa is the experience in which the self itself, lightly tinged with emotion, is temporarily experienced. Bhakti-rasa is the experience in which the self itself as a lover of Krsna is experienced.

Besides this, I don't think all of the Acaryas shared with Jiva his same low opinion of rasa. Sanatana, for instance, wrote a commentary on the Megha-duta. It is true he wrote it most likely before he met Sri Caitanya, but he was already a Vaisnava as his mangalacarana clearly shows. Rupa accepts the conclusions of the aestheticians in his Brs (2.5.101-107), but notes the unique qualities of bhakti-rasa with respect to rasa. Moreover he reveals his intimate knowledge of the great works of literature in so much of his work. And doesn't Mahaprabhu himself relish the verse: yah kaumaraharah ... which is a srngara verse from a "prakrta" poet? That verse was even written by a woman apparently. His reaction to it does not seem to be bibhatsa at all. It is true that Rupa wrote his own verse in the same mood with Radha and Krsna as the alambana and visaya. The point still is that a bhakta doesn't experience bibhatsa is such verses. He finds in them Radha and Krsna.

Well. I've rattled on long enough. There is much more to say, but let me just close with this. Even though we are far dumber and less devotional than great acaryas like Sri Jiva, we have many great advantages over them today. We have access to things that Jiva and Rupa and Sanatana could not have even dreamed of. We can easily read things and know things that they could not have even with the most strenuous effort. We owe it to them to try our best to improve on, and in some cases correct, what they have done and push the tradition they have passed down to us beyond the limits that were imposed on them by their historical circumstances.

iti sesah

Jaya Radhe!


ys

Nitai Das

Food for thought indeed. Very interesting.

Dear Nitai, thanks for your erudite response to my posting. I don't think that Jiva Goswami misunderstood the views of the rasa aestheticians. His opinion that the delight of the aestheticians is mundane seems to me to be in accord with the Bhagavata Purana where it is said: sAttvikaM sukham Atmottham (11.25.29), the joy springing from the Self is sAttvika. He just looked at their theory from the perspective of the Bhagavata Purana. According to the Bhagavata visaya or alambana is what counts and not that much the process:

na yad vacaz citra-padam harer yazo
jagat-pavitram pragRNIta karhicit
tad vAyasaM tIrtham uzanti mAnasA
na yatra haMsA niramanty uzik-kSayAH

Speech, which, though full of figurative expressions, never utters the praises of Hari — the praises that possess the virtue of sanctifying the whole world — is considered to be a tirtha for those who are like crows. This is the opinion of swan-like devotees who do not take delight in it.

In his Alankara Kaustubha, Kavi Karnapura says eSa rasaH prAkRto laukikI mAlatI-mAdhavAdi-niSThaH, aprAkRtaH zrI-kRSNa-rAdhAdi-niSThaH (5.71), rasa derived from mundane characters like Bhavabhuti's Malati and Madhava is mundane and the one from divine characters like Radha and Krsna is aprAkRta. In the commentary I possess, Lokanatha Cakravarti explains that there is actually no rasa in mundane characters, there is rasa in only Radha and Krsna. That is also why all verses in Alankara Kaustubha are aprAkRta, about Radha and Krsna. According to Gaudiya Vaisnava philosophy rasa can be found only in Krsna, as the Sruti says: raso vai saH. I think this is why Jiva and others have such a low opinion about mundane rasa (actually, one can't call anything caused by vibhavas of mundane rati rasa). This view is also echoed in a sloka from Rupa Goswami's Bhakti-rasamrta-sindhu (2.5.107) you mentioned:

ratiH sthitAnukAryeSu laukikatvAdi-hetubhiH
rasaH syAn neti nATya-jJA yad Ahur yuktam eva tat

Abhinavagupta and many other Indian aestheticians were monists, the individual soul was identical for them with the Supreme. But the view of Gaudiya Vaisnavas is quite diiferent on this issue, there is no (or if very little) ananda in the jiva. For Gaudiyas only that what is related to Bhagavan is nirguna, everything else can at best be in sattva-guna, as for example the joy of atman or kaivalya-jnana.

ys

Robert

To put the topic in a relevant perspective, we can again reflect on the parallel hinted at by Nitai of the experience of rasa in mundane drama in contrast to bhakti-rasa and brahmasukha in contrast to bhaktyananda. Jiva states that only jugupsa is to be found in mundane drama. Along the same lines, we find Prabodhananda among others condemning brahmasukha in verses such as kaivalyaM narakAyate and many others. Is there actually no rasa in mundane drama, is there actually no sukha in brahman?

I want to correct a silly mistake I did in my previous posting. Malati and Madhava is not a play by Kalidasa but by Bhavabhuti. I apologise for that.

On a lighter note, I cannot fail to be amused with our names; I am Madhavananda, my wife is Malatilata, everyone calls us Malati and Madhava. Romeo and Juliet. Surprisingly, I never came across anyone in India who would have cut a joke about it. Perhaps the modern Indians are not as well versed in drama as is our scholarly audience here.