Animals are often used for comparison in Indian literature. In this vein, the king of geese (haṃsarājan)Footnote ¹ is not only a beloved trope in poetry and drama, but also figures in poetic comparisons to embellish expositions and arguments in the genre of philosophy. Poets and playwrights craft similes and metaphors of great power and beauty to induce the overall sentiment of their poetry or story, while philosophical writers engage in a genre devoid of this underlying artistic ideal. The haṃsarājan soars in the heavenly vault of philosophy for a different purpose, related to neither aestheticism nor plot. As I will illustrate here through the writings of Candrakīrti, the classical Indian philosophical authors used poetic devices for the sake of ethos rather than pathos – an ethos closely tied to the scriptures that formed the religious fundament of their thought. When a simile or metaphor of philosophical works is analysed in terms of its semblance, it is in some cases possible to reveal the subtle presence of this scriptural tradition through what has here been labelled “mythic allusion”. This concept draws intangible bonds between philosophical writing and religious scripture, particularly spiritual narrative literature, which necessitate the reader's familiarity with the popular religious stories of the time of the text's composition to augment an appreciation for its poetic rhetoric. The three haṃsarājan comparisons that appear in Candrakīrti's texts demonstrate this case in point.

Candrakīrti (c. 600–650 ce, henceforth C) was a Buddhist Mahāyāna commentator, thought to have lived in northern India. He was perhaps born in the kingdom of Samataṭa in the coastal area north-east of the mouth of the Ganges River within the present-day Chittagong Division of Bangladesh, and may have worked as a scholar at the Buddhist university of Nālanda, situated some 90 km south-east of present-day Patna in central North India.Footnote ² He is known to have written seven works, five of which are extensive philosophical commentaries on the Madhyamaka texts by Nāgārjuna (second/third centuries) and Āryadeva (third century), among which Madhyamakāvatāra, Prasannapadā Madhyamakav tti, and *Catuḥśatakav tti contain haṃsarājan comparisons.Footnote ³

To establish the vocabulary needed to analyze C's comparisons, the article will commence with a brief introduction to the literary theory of similes and metaphors. Thereupon, his haṃsarājan comparisons will be presented in part two through a literary analysis with particular emphasis on the issue of their problematic semblances. This problem opens up the question whether the comparisons are enabled through actual physical and behavioural semblances between the bodhisattva and the haṃsarājan bird, or instead via an association formed mythically in earlier Buddhist sources. Part three incorporates a discussion of haṃsarājan comparisons in earlier Buddhist texts, where it will be argued that the only source that establishes a clear connection between bodhisattvas or buddhas and the haṃsarājan is the Haṃsajātaka, and that C's comparisons are therefore enabled through a mythic allusion rather than any actual semblance. The concept of mythic allusion will be discussed in comparison with Ānandavārdhana's notion of “suggestion” (dhvāni), thereby juxtaposing the use of poetic devices in philosophical writing versus poetry and drama. In the fourth and last part, the connection between the Haṃsajātaka and C's haṃsarājan comparisons will be presented, which also involves a discussion of the significance of the bird-species intended by the word haṃsarājan. It will be argued that C was little concerned with the ornithological detail of his comparisons, since his primary objective was to allude to the haṃsarājan as embodying the bodhisattva – an association that had become known from the highly popular Buddhist jātaka narrative.

The great linguist and Sanskritist Murray Barnson Emeneau (1944: 333) once suggested that Indologists ought to make an encyclopaedia of Sanskrit tropes; this was followed by Gonda's (1949) detailed study of similes in Sanskrit literature.Footnote ⁴ Jean Philippe Vogel took up the image of the goose in his 1962 monograph The Goose in Indian Literature and Art, where he also made a few general remarks on the expression “the king of geese”. Paul Thieme (1975) and Julia Leslie (1998) have since discussed the poetic significance of a few other bird-tropes in notable articles. The present study attempts to supply a discussion of the haṃsarājan particularly as found in Buddhist literature, thus forming a tiny contribution to Emeneau's ambitious proposal.

Of similes and metaphors

Comparison has been dealt with in both Western and Indian literary theory (alaṃkāraśāstra), and it is valuable to study C's use of this literary device according to both, especially given that the Western notions provide a familiar model, whereas the Indian system offers details and clear definitions.Footnote ⁵ The Indian taxonomy and definitions formulated by the Kashmirian theoretician Mammaṭa (eleventh–twelfth centuries) and adapted by the South Indian scholar Appayyadīkṣita (sixteenth–seventeenth centuries) are particularly compatible with Western terminology. Although perhaps more renowned, the seventh-century poet-scholar Daṇḍin committed to writing classifications that are less distinct than those of his successors. Nonetheless, his definitions are a helpful supplement.

In his principal treatise The Light of Poetry (Kāvyaprakāśa), Mammaṭa understands a comparison to be built of up to four constituents: upamāna, upameya, sādhāraṇadharma, and upamāpratipādaka.Footnote ⁶ In the Western system, these respectively correspond to comparatum, comparandum, semblance and comparative phrase.Footnote ⁷ For example, in the comparison “The water sparkled like diamonds”, the “diamonds” are the comparatum (upamāna), i.e. the poetic image or object to which the water is compared. “The water” is the comparandum (upameya), i.e. the subject of the comparison. “Sparkled” is the semblance (sādhāraṇadharma), namely the common quality of the comparatum and the comparandum, whereby the comparison is enabled. “Like” is the comparative phrase (upamāpratipādaka) that effects the comparison. Knowledge of these four terms facilitates all further distinctions, thereby allowing a discussion of the types of comparison used by C.

When distinguishing comparisons, the fundamental trait to look for is the relationship between the comparatum and the comparandum. While in a metaphor (rūpaka) the two are as if identical, in a simile (upamā) they are separate. A metaphor is characterized by the identical comparatum and comparandum as well as by the absence of a comparative phrase. Further, depending on whether the comparandum is mentioned or omitted, metaphors can be explicit or implicit. In the explicit metaphor “The sea is a sparkling diamond”, the diamond and the sea are identical. The fact that the sea equals a sparkling diamond renders the application of a comparative phrase impossible. In the implicit metaphor, “The ship sailed through sparkling diamonds”, the comparandum “water reflecting sunlight” is implied. Although the comparandum is absent, the reader understands diamonds as identical to water.Footnote ⁸

A simile, by contrast, is characterized by separation of the comparatum and the comparandum, necessitating the use of a comparative phrase. Further, a simile that consists of all four constituents of a comparison is a full simile,Footnote ⁹ while similes that leave out any of the constituents other than the comparatum are elliptical similes.Footnote ¹⁰ In the full simile “The sea is like a sparkling diamond”, the diamond and the sea are not equal; they are compared as separate entities. In the elliptical simile “The sea is like a diamond”, without the word “sparkling”, the simile does not indicate how the sea resembles a diamond, effecting ellipsis of the semblance. In this case, only one constituent of the comparison is omitted, though in principle it is possible to omit one or two more constituents.

The identity or separation of the comparatum and the comparandum, being the principal difference between the metaphor (rūpaka) and the simile (upamā), is the focus of Mammaṭa's definitions. In the earlier Indian tradition, there was no absolute distinction between rūpaka and upamā. Daṇḍin, who predates Mammaṭa by 500 years and Appayyadīkṣita by a millennium, defined the upamā as “that involving some kind of semblance”,Footnote ¹¹ which could in fact include any kind of comparison. Consequently, he understood the rūpaka not as the upamā’s opposite, but as an upamā wherein the separation between the comparatum and the comparandum has been concealed, such as arm-creeper, hand-lotus, or foot-bud.Footnote ¹² In the later Indian tradition, the rūpaka and upamā came to be seen as opposites. The rūpaka was thus defined by Mammaṭa as a comparison without separation between the comparatum and the comparandum.Footnote ¹³ “Without separation” (abheda) is glossed by “identity” (tādrūpya) in Appayyadīkṣita's Delight of the Night Lotus Footnote ¹⁴ and it is in the latter meaning that the metaphor has come to be defined in Western theory.Footnote ¹⁵ Contrary to rūpaka, Mammaṭa defined the upamā as a comparison wherein the comparatum and the comparandum are separate but possessing a common quality.Footnote ¹⁶

Understanding the opposition between metaphors and similes is a general precondition for comprehending C's comparisons. They are like conceptual snares for capturing poetic images. Still, the quintessence of any comparison, whether metaphor or simile, is semblance, a fact stressed by neither Indian nor Western theory. It is semblance that unites the image with its subject, and creates wholeness in the comparison. It also bestows meaning: comparing dissimilar diamonds to darkness is senseless. When struck by the sun, water resembles diamonds by its sparkling quality and this similarity enables the comparison. Many a poet leaves the semblance tacit, challenging the reader to form the fitting association. If the association is obvious, it is normally understood independently of its background, whereas if culturally bound, it can only be apprehended within its own context.

When reading C's texts today, 1300 years after they were written and so far removed from their historical and social setting, it is crucial to determine what semblance he saw in using the king of geese as a poetic image to understand the significance of making this comparison.

Haṃsarājan comparisons in Candrakīrti's works

The richness of comparisons allows the poet to visualize thoughts through images captivating the audience's imagination. Even a literary landscape as arid as Madhyamaka philosophy becomes moistened and inhabited by numerous creatures in the hands of C's poetic wizardry – easing the journey for the reader. Deer, dogs, ducks, elephants, horses, jackals, monkeys, peacocks and geese thus roam in the pages of C's works.Footnote ¹⁷

The king of geese is used three times for making comparisons, first in C's *Catuḥśatakav tti Footnote ¹⁸ being a commentary on Āryadeva's Catuḥśataka. While elucidating a verse on the importance of not treating a low born person with contempt, since s/he might be a saintly reincarnation who has compassionately chosen an inferior birth to help others, C summarizes the following jātaka-story of the Buddha's former life as a bodhisattva.Footnote ¹⁹

Once upon a time, a king begot an illegitimate son with a maid outside the palace. Other children derided the boy, who was in fact the bodhisattva, for not knowing his father. Upon being questioned by her son, the mother let it be known who fathered him. The boy demanded to be taken to the king and be recognized as his son. Although the mother feared punishment, not being able to bear her son's tears, she finally agreed to do so. The king, however, disavowed the boy. At this point, the boy decided to disclose his supernatural powers, and it is here – at the plot's dénouement – that C evokes the haṃsarājan image:

By the clause “the bodhisattva, like a king of geese with spread wings, leapt up”, C created an elliptical simile with three of the four constituents. Using the image of a bird taking off for the boy's act of levitation, he likened the comparandum “the bodhisattva” to the comparatum “a king of geese” (Skt. *haṃsarājan, Tib. ngang pa'i rgyal po). Since the comparandum and comparatum are treated as if separate and are juxtaposed by the comparative phrase like, the comparison is a simile. The simile's elliptical constituent is the semblance, i.e., the common quality (sādhāraṇadharma) that must be shared by the comparandum and the comparatum to enable the comparison. The semblance cannot be the explicit action-verb “leapt up” or “flew up” (Skt. *utpatya, Tib. ’phar te), since it is hardly to be imagined that the boy took off in flight in the horizontal running-like fashion of a goose. Hence, the semblance appears only to be the general quality of flying. It is also notable that the gander is envisioned with spread wings, a repeated pattern in C's imagery. It should be underlined that the employment of a haṃsarājan simile within this particular story appears to be a novelty of C's own making, since it is not an element recycled from any earlier known version of the tale.Footnote ²¹

The second time the king of geese flies out from C's pen is in his Prasannapadā Madhyamakav tti, a commentary on Nāgārjuna's Mūlamadhyamakakārikā. In its twenty-fifth chapter scrutinizing the ontological status of nirvāṇa, Nāgārjuna concludes in verse 24 that nirvāṇa neither exists nor not exists, is not a combination of the two, nor something other than the two; and since nirvāṇa cannot be described by any concept at all, it cannot be taught verbally by the buddhas. C expands the meaning of Nāgārjuna's words by pointing out that it is exactly because of nirvāṇa's indefinable nature that it is possible for someone to remain within it. When illustrating this conundrum, he draws the following comparison:

This comparison is a full simile, complete with the four constituents. The comparandum buddhas is treated as separate from the comparatum haṃsarājans, and is compared by means of the comparative phrase “just like” enabled by the explicit semblance expressed by the double use of the word “rest” (sthitāḥ). The semblance is the philosophical key to the statement, since it holds the conundrum to be illustrated. In terms of the comparandum, the paradox is signified by the tension between the words rest and non-rest (asthāna). A similar polarity is seen in the description of the comparatum, since the kings of geese rest in the sky, while simultaneously advancing by soaring with spread wings on the wind. The semblance is therefore stillness and action combined. It should also be noted that the geese are again portrayed as flying with spread wings.

The king of geese is last sighted in the final verse of the sixth chapter of C's Madhyamakāvatāra.Footnote ²³ The verse is a poetic culmination of the text's exposition on the perfection of insight (prajñāpāramitā) to be achieved through the Madhyamaka view. The writer expresses the opinion that once a bodhisattva reaches the sixth spiritual level (bhūmi), s/he surpasses the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas in compassion towards sentient beings and through insight into reality. He proceeds to exemplify this doctrinal point with a poetic metaphor:

The image is that of a gander with broad white wings which, carried by the wind, flies as the point bird ahead of its flock towards the far shore of a sea. The verse leaves the comparandum hidden, treats the omitted comparandum and the comparatum as identical, and has no comparative phrase, which makes the comparison an implicit metaphor (utprekṣā). The omission of the comparandum accords with Daṇḍin's definition of the implicit metaphor,Footnote ²⁵ since the king of geese having an entirely different disposition stands in place of the comparandum, animate or otherwise. Only the context and the verse's several additional comparisons bring out the unspoken comparandum, a bodhisattva traversing the Mahāyāna path. The migrating birds carry the sense of being on a journey, which represents the bodhisattva's career through the ten spiritual levels. Even the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas must – according to C's understanding – eventually undergo this trip. Like the geese subjects, they trail behind the bodhisattva, who is their superior in compassion and wisdom, just as the point bird is the most experienced traveller in the flock. The leader is said to possess thorough knowledge of the conventional and the real, thus knowing the path. His spiritual practices of wholesomeness fuel his progress like a wind carrying the birds forth to the destination of buddhahood, picking up good qualities on the way. The implicit metaphors “geese subjects” and “shore” as well as the explicit metaphors “wings”, “wind”, and “sea” thus lend meaning to the king of geese, prompting the connotation of its implicit comparandum, a bodhisattva.

The verse offers three possibilities for understanding the intended semblance of the bodhisattva's comparison to the king of geese. Literally, it might be expressed by the phrase “induced ahead”, or, metaphorically, it can be taken as articulated either by the noun “wings” or by the phrase “flies across the sea”. In his auto-commentary Madhyamakāvatārabhāṣya, C provides only two explanatory sentences to this verse, and either sentence might indicate the semblance:

The first sentence of the auto-commentary expresses the view that a bodhisattva of the sixth bodhisattva-level has become more advanced than śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, which harmonizes with C's opinion that such practitioners must eventually reach complete buddhahood, but that the bodhisattva advances to this goal ahead of them.Footnote ²⁷ In the verse, this view is expressed with the metaphor “induced ahead by its geese subjects”. The verbal phrase “induced ahead” (*puroniśitya, mdun du bdar nas)Footnote ²⁸ carries a double meaning in Sanskrit. On one hand, *puroniśitya means “sharpened in front”, thus indicating the shape of a skein of geese with the point bird, the haṃsarājan, flying ahead of its flock. On the other hand, *puroniśitya also means “induced ahead” with the sense that the flock urges the point bird on to lead the way. The image of geese migrating in their typical v-shaped formation is further evoked by the contrast between the words king (*rājan, rgyal po) and subjects or men (*jana, skye bo), emphasizing the point bird's leader role. In the auto-commentary, the comparandum of the metaphor geese subjects (*janahaṃsa, skye bo'i ngang pa) is identified as those who have engendered excellence (*prakarṣotpādāḥ, phul du byung ba skyed pa rnams), which probably refers to the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas mentioned in the text's preceding verse (VI.225).Footnote ²⁹ Given that a bodhisattva is induced ahead on the Buddhist path by the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, who eventually follow his lead, and that this is similar to how the goose leader is induced ahead by his flock when migrating, the phrase “induced ahead” could be understood as the semblance of the metaphor.

The semblance could also be sought in the noun “wings”, if read metaphorically as referring to the Mahāyāna notion of a twofold reality (*dvayasatya), i.e., the conventional reality (*saṃv tisatya, kun rdzob bden pa) and the highest reality (*paramārthasatya, don dam bden pa), being the only point in the verse that is stressed by the auto-commentary. Or, the semblance might be found in the verb “flies”, given that the metaphor of the bodhisattva crossing a sea to achieve buddhahood is common in Buddhist literature, e.g. in the epithet “he gone to the farther shore” (pāraga or pāragata, pha rol tu phyin pa) used of the Buddha and arhants.Footnote ³⁰

To conclude this overview of C's use of haṃsarājan similes and metaphors, it may be observed that all three comparisons have similar comparanda: in *Catuḥśatakav tti and Madhyamakāvatāra, the comparanda are “a bodhisattva”, while in Prasannapadā Madhyamakav tti the comparandum is “buddhas”. In all cases, the comparanda are thus what in Buddhism may be termed noble beings (ārya), i.e. advanced practitioners of the path. It is further noteworthy that the haṃsarājan in all three comparisons is depicted as flying with spread wings, and there is consequently little variety in the formulation of the trope. Finally, it is evident that all the comparisons only contain phrases expressing very general semblances. In Catuḥśatakav tti, the semblance is the quality of flying; in Prasannapadā Madhyamakav tti, it is a combination of “stillness and action”; and in Madhyamakāvatāra, it is either to be “induced ahead”, “wings”, or “flying”.

Yet none of the passages provides any compelling reason why the bodhisattva or buddha is compared to the haṃsarājan bird in particular, and this is a problem, because – as expressed succinctly by Appayyadīkṣita – “a comparison is where a striking similarity of two things jumps to mind”.Footnote ³¹ Since a striking similarity appears to be lacking in C's comparisons, he might as well have compared the bodhisattva or buddha to any other type of flying creature, for instance another bird, an airborne insect, or even a supernatural being capable of flight. Nevertheless, C consistently chose the haṃsarājan as his comparison, and there must accordingly exist a clear affinity between the haṃsarājan and buddhas or bodhisattvas, which would have had to be sufficiently obvious to seventh-century readers to render his comparisons successful, even if it may not be self-evident to the modern reader. Hence, to appreciate the comparison with its intended association, it is now necessary to investigate its background in the broader Buddhist literature.Footnote ³²

Haṃsarājan comparisons in earlier Buddhist literature

The majority of haṃsarājan comparisons in the Buddhist literature predating C involve a concrete physical semblance between the buddha or bodhisattva and the king of geese. The most common and best-known case concerns the incomplete, simple syndactyly, i.e. partially webbed fingers and toes, with which all buddhas are supposed to be born and which is included as one of the thirty-two major bodily marks of a great person (dvātriṃśan mahāpuruṣalakṣaṇāni). In the list of these thirty-two features found in numerous Buddhist scriptures, the webbed fingers and toes are compared to the webbed feet of the king of geese.Footnote ³³ Similarly, in the equally well-known list of the eighty minor marks of a tathāgata, the Buddha's manner of walking is compared to the gait of the king of geese.Footnote ³⁴ Other physical semblances include comparisons of a bodhisattva's unstained body to the white colour of the haṃsarājan in the Sannipātasūtra and elsewhere,Footnote ³⁵ and a comparison of a bodhisattva's speech to the powerful, trumpeting cry of the king of geese, e.g. in the *Bhikṣuṇīvinayavibhaṅga.Footnote ³⁶ It is noteworthy that all of these comparisons are based on simple physical resemblances between the buddhas or bodhisattvas and the haṃsarājan, and in this regard differ from C's haṃsarājan comparisons and therefore cannot aid in explaining the lack of a pronounced semblance in his poetic figures.

Instead, C's trope is akin to another type of haṃsarājan comparison in the earlier Buddhist scriptures, where levitating buddhas, bodhisattvas or other forms of saints are compared to flying kings of geese. With twenty-seven attestations alone in the Chinese canon, ranging from Mahāyāna sūtras to Vinaya texts, the flying haṃsarājan comparison was frequent and clearly popular even before the seventh century.Footnote ³⁷ For example, in the Aṅgulimālīyasūtra, the following passage occurs when Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana, two of the Buddha's close disciples, arrive on the scene:

In this full simile (pūrṇopamā), the comparandum is the elders (*āyuṣmant, 尊者zūnzhě)Footnote ³⁹ Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana. It is here observable that Buddhist saints of other types than bodhisattvas and buddhas may be compared to flying haṃsarājans. The comparatum is the haṃsarājan, the comparative phrase is “like”, and the semblance is “flying”. Like C's comparisons, the comparison in the Aṅgulimālīyasūtra also conveys only a most general semblance of flying and fails to provide any unequivocal association of the haṃsarājan to the comparandum. The same is indeed the case for all the other comparisons to flying haṃsarājans in the earlier Indic Buddhist literature found in the Chinese canon, and these cases, therefore, do not solve the fundamental problem of the lack of a conspicuous semblance.

There is, however, a single earlier source which provides an unequivocal link between the bodhisattva and the haṃsarājan. It clearly treats the bodhisattva and the haṃsarājan as identical – not metaphorically but literally. This is the popular story about a former life of the Buddha as a king of geese entitled the Haṃsajātaka, and it is arguably this story that holds the key to clarifying the flying haṃsarājan comparisons in Buddhist literature.

The Haṃsajātaka exists in several different recensions. The Jātaka-section of the Khuddaka-nikāya of the Pāli canon includes three different versions: a short narrative entitled Haṃsajātaka, a middle-length narrative entitled Cullahaṃsajātaka, and a long narrative called the Mahāhaṃsajātaka.Footnote ⁴⁰ The Chinese Tripiṭaka too supplies an early version within the Vinayavastu.Footnote ⁴¹ Around the fourth century, the tale was included in a poetic anthology of the most popular birth-stories entitled Jātakamālā authored by Āryaśūra.Footnote ⁴² According to the Chinese pilgrim Yìjìng (義淨, 635–713), who visited India in 671–695 shortly after C lived, the Jātakamālā was one of the most popular Buddhist texts in India at the time.Footnote ⁴³ There is also a later poetic rendering in the Bodhisattvāvadānakalpalatā by the Kashmiri poet Kṣemendra (eleventh century), who thus postdates C.Footnote ⁴⁴

The haṃsajātaka is a story of loyalty and self-sacrifice. In Āryaśūra's prevailing version, it is said that a flock of geese lived at Lake Mānasa. The flock was well cared for by its king, the haṃsarājan or the king of geese, and his loyal minister named Sumukha. The renown of the flock and its leader spread wide and roused the curiosity of king Brahmadatta of Benares. Wishing to see these special and rare birds, his courtiers advised him to build a pond more splendorous than the birds' native Himalayan Lake and told him that he should declare the pond to be a bird sanctuary. This having been done, the geese came to visit the pond and seeing its magnificence decided to stay. When the king heard that the birds he desired to see had come, he ordered a fowler to catch the haṃsarājan. The fowler caught it in a snare, but its minister Sumukha offered its own life to the fowler in return for letting the king of the geese go free. The fowler was so moved by Sumukha's noble character that he released the haṃsarājan unconditionally. Wanting to reward the fowler for his sympathy, Sumukha and the king of geese decided to be carried voluntarily by the fowler to the palace, where they were shown to king Brahmadatta. After Brahmadatta had heard the story of Sumukha's loyalty to his king, he was greatly moved and the haṃsarājan then spoke in human voice to Brahmadatta about the true conduct of a king. Having told the story, the Buddha revealed that he, as a bodhisattva, was that king of geese in a former life, while his attendant Ānanda was Sumukha.

The Haṃsajātaka establishes a definite coupling of the bodhisattva and the king of geese, an association of the Buddhist saint with this particular bird. Given the story belonged to Āryaśūra's Jātakamālā, which in the words of Yìjìng was one of the most popular Buddhist texts in India in the second half of the seventh century, it is reasonable to assume that the narrative was well known to Buddhist readers of the time. The tale's linkage of the bodhisattva and the king of geese makes the haṃsarājan a particularly befitting comparatum for buddhas and bodhisattvas. What is remarkable here is that a popular narrative may have served as the basis for a poetic figure. If so, the haṃsarājan similes and metaphors in the writings of C and other Buddhist sources are not normal comparisons where, in the words of Appayyadīkṣita, “a striking similarity of two things jumps to mind”. Rather, they are comparisons with only vague semblances that are nevertheless enabled through a mythic association, viz. the belief that the Buddha in a former life was born as the king of geese. Hence, a reference to the king of geese in a Buddhist context evokes this legend.Footnote ⁴⁵

This aspect bespeaks a subtle difference between the use of comparisons in philosophy and poetry. Aside from literal and figurative meanings, a metaphor or simile may carry a third level of purport, namely a sphere of allusion or suggestion. Later Indian literary critics developed an extensive theory of suggestion, first formulated in the Dhvanyāloka written in the ninth century by the Kashmiri Ānandavārdhana. Ānandavārdhana argued that good poetic figures give rise to suggestions (dhvani, literally “tone” or “echo”) serving to evoke the poem's overall aesthetic mood (rasa, literally “flavour”), i.e., its pathos.Footnote ⁴⁶

Some religious philosophers, including C, mobilized poetic figures in their terse writings to imbue their texts with beauty and sentiment, thus making readers susceptible to their religious spirit. By, for example, invoking the haṃsarājan with its mythic allusion to the haṃsajātaka, the writer induced the devout reader to think of the Buddha's former lives as a bodhisattva, the hardships he had to undergo in the course of attaining enlightenment, the noble qualities developed on that path, and, in particular, the qualities of leadership, loyalty and self-sacrifice embodied by the king of geese and his goose minister in this specific tale. Still, mythic allusions are not entirely equal to Ānandavārdhana's poetic concept of dhvani because the use of poetic figures in religious philosophical writing does not serve to call forth one of the particular aesthetic moods of the Indian literary tradition. The principle at hand is similar, since the mythic allusions created by comparisons in philosophical texts also are intended to arouse sentiment, albeit a religious ethos rather than pathos.

The negligible affective difference between mythic allusion and dhvani is of great consequence, for it reveals a fundamental disparity between the objectives of the two genres. While traditional Indian poetry is based on aestheticism, the use of poetic figures in philosophical writing is rooted in a religious universe codified by scripture and exemplified by religious narratives. Consequently, the poetic figures employed in religious philosophical texts require familiarity with popular religious narratives to be fully understood.

Mythology versus ornithology

If C used the haṃsarājan comparison with the Haṃsajātaka in mind, it ought to be possible to detect an influence of this tale on his writings, even though he never referred directly to this particular jātaka. This is indeed possible, and it is an issue connected with the significance of the ornithological identification of poetic bird-tropes, a discussion of which has been raised by Julia Leslie.

The haṃsarājan, “the king of geese”, sometimes also called the rājahaṃsa “the king-goose”, may be used as the name of particular bird-species. Occasionally, it refers to the flamingo (Phoenicopterus minor or Phoenicopterus roseus),Footnote ⁴⁷ which does not apply to the present context, but most notably it is the name for Anser indicus, the Indian bar-headed goose (Dave 1985: 438 ff.). The bar-headed goose measures roughly 80 cm and weighs 2–3 kg. Its colour is pale grey and it is characterized by two prominent horseshoe shaped, brownish-black bars on the back of its head. The wing is grey in front with distinct black primaries and secondaries to the back. Being one of the world's highest-flying birds, at altitudes of up to 9,000 metres above sea level, Anser indicus is the only Indian goose with a wingspan wide enough to migrate over the Himalayas. It thus spends the summer months in the wetlands of Tibet or Siberia, and returns in the fall to northern India, where it spends the winter and spring. (See Figure 1.)

Figure 1. Indian bar-headed goose, Anser Indicus. Photo by Rajiv Lather ©. Reproduced with permission.

In Indian literature, the haṃsarājan or rājahaṃsa can often be identified as the bar-headed goose simply on the basis of the bird's association with its summer habitat north of the Himalayas, which in narratives and poetry particularly is associated with the Tibetan Lake Mānasa. An example of this tie is seen in Kālidāsa's poem The Cloud Messenger:

Kālidāsa characterizes the king-geese as “longing for Lake Mānasa” (mānasotkāḥ), and his commentators Dakṣiṇāvartanātha (thirteenth century) and Mallinātha (c. 1350–1450) described the birds as the geese that have Lake Mānasa as their summer habitat.Footnote ⁴⁹ On the basis of their association with Lake Mānasa, Kālidāsa's rājahaṃsa birds can be identified as Indian bar-headed geese.Footnote ⁵⁰

The geese are here mentioned in the plural, meaning that Kālidāsa necessarily uses the word as the name for a bird species. Similar usage is attested in some Buddhist sources, e.g. the Ārya ṣivyāsaparip cchāsūtra: “Fragrant flowers covered the earth. Cuckoos, sparrows, and flocks of haṃsarājans rested there in harmony”.Footnote ⁵¹

By contrast, C's haṃsarājan comparisons contain little indication of features that would allow for an immediate ornithological identification. In Prasannapadā the plural form is used, which could suggest that C employed the word in this passage as a species name. In spite of this, none of his writings associates the birds with Lake Mānasa or other summer habitats north of the Himalayas, which would have made the species association evident.

Only Madhyamakāvatāra makes use of words describing a physical feature of the bird, namely the mention of the haṃsarājan's “broad, white wings”. The characteristic of having white wings is problematic, because neither of the birds normally referred to by the name haṃsarājan, viz. the flamingo and the Indian bar-headed goose, has white wings. The wings of the flamingo are scarlet and black, while those of the bar-headed goose are silver-greyish in front and black towards the back. If only considering aquatic birds (Anseriformes), white wings might refer to the swan (Whooper swan, Cygnus cygnus, or Mute swan, Cygnus olor) with its full white wings. Still, the swan is completely absent in classical Indian art and there do not seem to be any passages in Buddhist scriptures where a haṃsarājan can be clearly identified as a swan.Footnote ⁵² It is therefore unlikely that the haṃsarājan of Madhyamakāvatāra should be a swan only on account of the mention of white wings. The best explanation may be that the colour was mentioned for purely symbolic reasons as representing purity, and the indication of just a single feature may indeed be too little to secure a clear ornithological identification. Hence, just as C's comparisons lack any distinctive semblance, the specific bird species he had in mind is equally unpronounced.

The unclear species-indication flies in the face of how bird-metaphors have been employed in a number of poems and epics where, as demonstrated by Julia Leslie (1998), the poet's particular choice of fowl is closely tied to the mood and plot of the text. Leslie's study concerns the episode of the krauñca killing, which sets the scene for the entire story of the Rāmāyaṇa. In brief, the story goes that the sage Vālmīki spots two krauñca birds engrossed in their mating ritual in the forest. As he admires the couple, a hunter suddenly appears and kills the male bird. The heart-rending distress of the female affects Vālmīki so deeply that he curses the hunter, his curse spontaneously emerging in the verse-form that will carry the epic poem he is about to compose (Leslie 1998: 455). Commentators and translators of the passage have either failed to name the species of the krauñca or have come up with a bewildering array of identifications without any argument for their choice. Leslie extracted all the information in the passage pertinent to the bird's identification, reviewed the different possibilities, and concluded that the word krauñca here must refer to the Indian Sarus Crane (Grus antigone antigone), renowned in India for its life-long mate bonding. As Leslie argues, this is highly significant for Rāmāyaṇa's romantic plot, in that the Sarus Crane becomes a portent of the strong love relationship of Sītā and Rāma that forms the crux of the epic. The death of the male bird during their intense mating ritual, the grief of the female bird, and Vālmīki's subsequent curse are all forewarnings of the epic's tragedy, where Sītā is abducted by a villain, and after the couple are finally reunited, Rāma is so terribly plagued by doubt about the innocent Sītā's faithfulness during her abduction that it destroys their relationship. The Sarus crane is crucial for setting the epic as a story of sorrow and tragedy, resulting in the sentiment of pity and compassion (karuṇa) (Leslie 1998: 475–7). In other words, the Sarus crane serves to suggest (dhvani) the poem's aesthetic mood (rasa), and Leslie (1998: 459) consequently argued that the poet's choice of bird “was governed by ornithology rather than mythology or convention”.

In C's writings, a similar choice of the haṃsarājan as a plot device is not in evidence. The bird is not depicted in sufficient detail to warrant a clear ornithological identification and his comparisons do not function to establish an aesthetic mood. His employment of the haṃsarājan in the metaphor from Madhyamakāvatāra carries, as shall now be demonstrated, a distinct sense that is particular to the narrative of the Haṃsajātaka. This underlines the use of mythic allusion, thus showing that his pick of bird – unlike Vālmīki's krauñca – was governed by mythology rather than ornithology or convention.

The Haṃsajātaka gives detailed descriptions showing that the birds in question are Indian bar-headed geese.Footnote ⁵³ At the same time, it is noticeable that the story never employs the word haṃsarājan in the plural and hence as the name for this species. Rather, it is used in singular as an epithet, “the king of geese”, to signify the leader of the flock. For example, in the Cullahaṃsajātaka, the story begins:

Later in the story, in the longer version entitled Mahāhaṃsajātaka, when the fowler has spotted the leader of the flock, he thinks to himself:

In both passages, haṃsarājan is an epithet for the flock leader and is not used as the name of a species of geese.Footnote ⁵⁶ The same usage is reflected in the haṃsarājan metaphor of Madhyamakāvatāra, where C depicted the king of geese as “induced ahead by its geese subjects”, thus clearly distinguishing the “king” or “leader” from the other geese. This congruity establishes a unique link between the Haṃsajātaka and Madhyamakāvatāra, and indicates the Haṃsajātaka to be C's source of inspiration. It shows this story as the basis for a mythic allusion that enables the otherwise vague haṃsarājan comparisons in his texts.

When the choice of bird in a comparison is governed by mythology rather than ornithology, mythic allusion may indicate a noteworthy difference between the use of poetic comparison in the writings of Indian religious-philosophical commentators and in the genres of poetry, drama and epic. Leslie's study convincingly demonstrates how the poet's choice of the krauñca bird in the Rāmāyaṇa functions as a plot device giving rise to an emotional sentiment. It accords with the Indian literary theory, requiring any suitable poetic device to evoke the poem's overall aesthetic mood. Yet, similar literary features do not apply to the poetic figures occurring in C's philosophical writings. His tropes lack a clear indication of the intended bird species, display no striking semblance clearly enough to allow the comparison to spring to mind, and do not evoke any global feeling of the text. For – unlike poetry and stories – philosophical writing cannot, to begin with, be characterized as involving an overall aesthetic mood or plot. While poets and playwrights draw on poetic figures with striking semblances to evoke pathos, C's mythic allusion is intended for ethos – to call forth the religious attitudes embodied in the didactic narrative literature on which he draws. In other words, his images only come to life through familiarity with stories.

In conclusion, the standard Indian literary theories applied to poetry and drama cannot capture the use of poetic comparisons in philosophical writing. Rather, the literary adornments featured in many Buddhist texts written after the end of the Gupta Dynasty in mid-sixth century, including the writings by Candrakīrti, Śāntideva, and Haribhadra, need to be understood by means of a different type of literary theory that may be applied specifically to the genres of śāstra and v tti. Parting from the existing scholarship that has hitherto tended to study Indian philosophical writings purely for the sake of their philosophy as well as from Indian literary studies that have focused exclusively on poetic and dramatic texts, the new literary model at hand, which is drawn from the śāstras' own aesthetic premises, makes it possible to read philosophical śāstras from a literary point of view.

Although the frequent use of poetic devices in abstract treatises betrays strong influence on the religious genres of doctrinal compositions from the then prevalent ālaṃkāraśāstra, the additional literary dimension – if appreciated – can shed new light on the historical and cultural significance of these texts beyond their philosophical value.

Sigla, symbols, and abbreviations

a

folio recto

b

folio verso

C

Candrakīrti

D

sde dge bstan ’gyur

G

Golden Manuscript bstan ’gyur (bstan ’gyur gser bris par ma)

N

snar thang bstan ’gyur

NGMPP

The Nepal German Manuscript Preservation Project

Q

Peking bstan ’gyur; facsimile print by Suzuki (1955–1961)

Skt.

Sanskrit

T

Taishō Shinshū Daizōkyō

TBRC

Tibetan Buddhist Resource Center at www.tbrc.org

Tib.

Tibetan

V

vulgate Prasannapadā edition by de La Vallée Poussin (1903–1913)

Z

bstan ’gyur dpe bsdur ma published by krung go'i bod rig pa zhib ’jug lte gnas kyi bka’ bstan dpe sdur khang (1994–2001)

ब

Sanskrit Prasannapadā manuscript, NGMPP E1294/3

द

Sanskrit Prasannapadā manuscript, NGMPP C19/8

ज

Sanskrit Prasannapadā manuscript, Tokyo University Library no. 251

ल

Sanskrit Prasannapadā manuscript, Cambridge University Library add. 1483

प

Sanskrit Prasannapadā manuscript, Bodleian library Sanskrit manuscript no. 1440

*

reconstruction

:

separates the adopted reading from variant readings in text critical notes.

/

daṇḍa or shad punctuation marker in Sanskrit or Tibetan editions