World Literature (1907) PDF by Rabindranath Tagore

5 World Literature (1907) Rabindranath Tagore A humanist with universalistic dreams, Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) was the leading modern Bengali poet, as weil as a noted novelist, playwright, painter,...

5 World Literature (1907) Rabindranath Tagore A humanist with universalistic dreams, Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) was the leading modern Bengali poet, as weil as a noted novelist, playwright, painter, and essayist. Widely known throughout Europe and the United States from the early twentieth century thanks to translations in English, Dutch, German, and Spanish, Tagore achieved worldwide fame with his poetic volume Gitanjali (published in English in 1912 with an introduction by W.B. Yeats), which won him the Nobel Prize in 1913, and for his novel The Home and the World (Ghare-Baire, 1919). Brought up in a home which hosted a dialogue of Indian and Western cultures, Tagore advocated India's cultural as weil as political independence from Britain. A leader of the Bengali Renaissance movement, he founded the Visva-Bharati University, a school to which he dedicated half of his life, trying to turn its campus into a bridge between India and the world. Seeing the British regime in India as a "political symptom of our social disease," Tagore promoted humanist education over a "blind revolution" to reunite India to the world. 1'1 his 1907 essay "World Literature," Tagore advocates searching for "the eternal and universal man" in literature. To some extent following Goethe's notion of Weltliteratur, Tagore turns it to new purposes in colonial India, opposing both a nar- row-minded nationalism and the British policy of dividing and conquering India's many regions and cultures. His "world literature" is a means to move beyond national boundaries to integrate humanity within a universal spirit of culture through the power of imagination. "The nations must serve each other as guides.... Every country would do weil, then, to welcome foreign thoughts; for in such matters hospitality makes the fortune of the host." Rabindranath Tagore, "World Literature" (1907). Trans. Swap an Chakravorty. From Rabindranath Tagore, Selected Writings on Literature and Language, ed. Sukanta Chaudhuri (New Delhi: Oxford University P~~ss, 2001), pp. 138-150. World Literature in Theory, First Edition. Edited by David Damrosch. ©2014 John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. Published 2014 by John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. 48 Rabindranath Tagore Whatever faculties we have within us exist for the sole purpose of forging bonds with others. We are true and we achieve truth only through such bonds. Otherwise, there is no sense in saying '1 am' or 'something is'. Our bonds with truth in this world are of three kinds - the bonds of reason, of necessity, and of joy. Of these, the bond of reason may be described as a kind of contest. It is like the bond between the hunter and his prey. Reason builds a dock, makes truth stand in it like a defendant, and cross-examines it till it is forced to yield its secrets bit by bit. That is why reason cannot help feeling a self-conceit with respect to truth. It senses its own power in proportion to its knowledge of truth. Next cornes the bond of necessity. The bond of necessity, that is of work, engenders a collaboration between human power and truth. Enforced by need, this bond draws truth doser to us. Yet there remains a distance. Just as the English trader had once secured his aims by bowing to the Nawab and oftering him gifts, but, his mission accomplished, eventuaIly ascended the throne himself, so also we think we have gained the empery of the world when we have used truth to material advantage to aehieve our purpose. We then boast that nature is our waiting woman; water, air, and fire, our unpaid servants. FinaIly, the bond ofjoy. The bond ofbeauty or joy erases aIl distance: there is no more self-eonceit; we do not hesitate to surrender ourselves to the smaIl and the weak. The king of Mathura then has to do aIl he can to hide his royal dignity frOIn the milkmaid of Vrindavan. lWhere we are linked by the bond of joy, we feel the power of neither reason nor worle we feel exdusively our own selves; no conceal- ment or ealculation cornes in the way. In sum, the bond between truth and hum an reason is our sehool, the bond of necessity our workplaee, and the bond ofjoy our home. We do not carry our entire selves to sehool, nor do we yield ourselves entirely to the workplaee; it is at home that we are relieved to let go of our whole selves without restraint. The sehool is unembeIlished, the workplaee unfurbished, but the home is variously adorned. What is this bond of joy? It is nothing but knowing others as our own, and our selves as other. Once that knowledge is achieved, we have no more questions. We never ask, 'Why do 1 love myself?' The very sense of my own being gives me joy. When we feel the same sense ofbeing about someone else, there is no need to ask why 1 like that person. Yajnavalkya had told Gargi: 2 Na va are putrasya kamaya putrah priyo bhavati atmanastu kamaya putrah priyo bhavati. Na va are vittasya kamaya vittam priyam bhavati atmanastu kamaya vittam priyam bhavati. l love my son not because l desire him, but because l desire the Self. l love weaIth not because l covet it, but because l desire the Self. (And so on.) It means that 1 desire that in which 1 realise my own self more comprehensively. The son fills a certain laek in me, that is, 1 find myself in greater measure in my son.  World Literature 49 It is as if in him T becomes 'more th an l'. That is why he is atmiya to my self: he makes my atman 3 true even outside ofme. The truth that 1 apprehend in myselfwith immense certainty, and that thereby begets love in me, is the same truth that 1 appre- hend with equal certainty in my son, thereby enhancing the same love. Hence if you want to know what a man is, you must know what he loves. It shows in which objects of the universe he finds his own self~ how far he has been able to disperse his own being. Where 1 do not feellove, my soul has reached its limits. A child is thrilled when it sees light or spots a moving object: it laughs, it gurgles. In this light and movement, it f1nds its own consciousness in greater measure - that is the reason for its delight. But when its consciousness reaches beyond sensory apprehension to the various levels of the he art and the mind, that mild stir is no longer enough to cause delight. Not that it feels no joy at aIl, but it feels less of it. Likewise, as a human soul develops, it desires to feel the truth of its own being in a larger way. To begin with, one can apprehend one's innermost spirit in the outside world most readily and comprehensively in other human beings. It is natural that through sight, heat'ing, and thought, through the play of the imagination and the attach- ments of the he art, one should be able to recoup oneself roundly in humanity. That is why one's being is filled to the brim by IUlOwing, befriending, and serving feIlow humans. That is why, in every land and age, one is considered great in proportion to the number of souls in which one has merged one's own in order to realise and express oneself Such a person is indeed a mahatman, a great soul. My soul finds fulfllment in aU humanity - one who has not realised this even a little, by some means or other, has been deprived of a fair share ofhuman nature. To know the soul as confined to itself is to know it only in a depleted sense. The human soul has a natural disposition to know itself among others. Self- interest is a great obstacle to this end and so is vanity. Many su ch worldly impedi- ments break up our souls' natural drift, preventing an unimpeded view of the consummate beauty of human nature. 1 lU10w that some will argue, why should the human soul's natural inclinations suffer such ill-use in the world?Why should you not regard self-interest and vanity, things you dismiss as impediments, as part of our natural disposition? As a matter of fact, many do say such things. That is because the impediments to human nature strike our eyes more than the nature itself. When a man fi l'st learns to ride a bicycle, he is destined to fall more often than to move. If someone then says that the man is rehearsing the faU rather than the ride, it is pointless arguing with him. Vanity and self-interest jostle us at every step. But ifwe fail to see the human effort to preserve our deepest disposition - that is, the effort to unite with aU others - if we insist that the faU is the more natural function, that would merely be cavilling. In fact, the impediments are necessary to learn that what is natural for us is indeed our natllr~.;and to make that nature exert itself to the full. That is how our nature knows itself with heightened self-awareness: the fuller the awareness, the deeper its joy. It is thus with every other thing. 50 Rabindranath Tagore Take, for instance, our reason. To determine causal relations is part of its nature. As long as it does so easily among self-evident things, it cannot fully perceive itself. But the causal links of the universe are buried in such obscurity that reason has to labour incessantly to unearth them. This effort to overcome obstacles makes reason appre- hend itself most intensely in science and philosophy, and it is this effort that enhances its glory. In fact, if we consider it well, science and philosophy are nothing but the self-realisation of reason in the object. Wherever it perceives its distinctive rationale, it sees that object and itself together. This is what we calI understanding. Reason finds joy in this way of seeing. Otherwise, hum an beings need not have been so happy on discovering that the apple falls to the ground for the same cause as makes the sun attract the earth. If the sun pulls the earth, what is in it for me? This, that l can com- prehend the universal phenomenon within my reason, l can apprehend my reason in all things. From the speck of dust to the sun, the moon, and the stars - everything can thus unite with my reason. In this way, the inexhaustible mystery of the universe is drawing hum an reason into the open to reveal it more fully to human beings and returning it to them after uniting it with all creation. Knowledge is this union of reason with the universe, and it is in this union that our rationality finds joy. Likewise, it is the nature of the human soul to seek a union of its particular human- ness with all humanity: in this lies its true joy. It has constantly to battle hostility and obstruction both outside and within in order to realise this nature with total aware- ness. That is why self-interest is so potent, vanity so stubborn, the way of the world so difficult. There is great joy when human nature shines in full splendour through these obstacles to express itself forcefully. It is our own enhanced selves that we then discover. It is for this reason that we wish to read the biographies of great men. In their characters we see our own impeded and obscured nature freed and extended. When reading history, we enjoy descrying our own natures in various people in varying shapes and measures in different countries, periods, and events. Whether l clearly understand it or not, my mind begins to recognise that l am one by embracing all humanity. The more l apprehend that unit y, the greater my good and my joy. In biography and history, however, we do not have a clear view of the whole pic- ture. That too reaches us dimmed by many impediments and doubts. The image of humanity we glimpse even then is certainly a lofty one; but our minds strive to refashion that image after our heart's des ire and capture it in language for an time. Tt is as if that alone can make the image exclusively mine. It becomes the possession of the human he art when l can express my love in it through gracefullanguage and formaI skill. It is no longer 10st in the world's ebb and flow. In this manner, all that is exquisitely expressed in the outside world, be it the glow of sunrise or a noble soul's radiance or my own heart's passions - everything that excites the heart from moment to moment the heart entwines with one of its own creations and clings to it as its own. Every such occasion is a means for it to express itself in a distinctive way. Human self-expression in the world fûllows two broad courses. One is work, the other literature. The two courses run parallel. Human beings have poured them- selves into the compositions of their work and their thoughts. These two streams  World Literature 51 complement each other. We must read history and literature to know humanity as revealed in these two currents. In the field of work, hum an beings have built homes, societies, political and reli- gious communities with aIl the strength and experience ofbody, mind, and heart. AlI they have known, achieved and desired is expressed in these constructions. Human nature, thus intertwined with the world, has taken various forms and installed itself in the midst of aIl things. What was inchoate in the realm of ide as assumes concrete form in the world; what was feeble within the one assumes a larger, organic unity among the many. It is increasingly impossible for an individual to achieve clear and full expression except through the home, society, polity, and religious community fashioned by many people through many years. AlI this has bec orne the means for humanity to reveal itself to itself. Otherwise, we would not calI it civilisation, that is, total humanness. Whether in the polity or in society, we are uncivilised in respects where each of us is totally autonomous, where the one is isolated from the rest. For this reason, when society or the polity is hurt, the blow is felt by the extended body of each individual; if a society grows parochial in any respect, the development of each individual self is impeded. One can express one's humanness unreservedly in so far as these structures set up by human beings are open and free. The more the inhibi- tion, the more one lacks expression and remains impoverished, because the world exists to express what is human by me ans of work, and expression alone brings joy. But although human beings express themselves through work, such expression is not, in this case, the primary goal: it is an offshoot. The housewife expresses herself in household work, but that is not the purpose uppermost in her mind. Through domestic chores she fulfils various intentions: those intentions reflect off her work and reveal her nature. But there are times when one wishes primarily to express onself. For instance, when there is a wedding in the house, people are busy making sure that aIl the work is done weIl, but, at the same time, they feel the need to proclaim their feelings. On that day, the members of the family cannot help declaring the weIl-being and happi- ness of their home to everyone. How do they declare it? The flute is played, lamps are lit, the house is decorated with garlands. Through the beauty of sound, fragrance, and spectacle, through aIl the radiance, the he art spreads itself like a fountain in a hundred streams in aIl directions. Thus, by various suggestions, it arouses its own joy in other he arts so as to make that joy true amidst them aIl. The mother cannot help caring for the infant in her arms. But that is not aIl: mother love seeks expression surpassing the demands of care and without apparent cause. It wells up from within in various kinds of play, endearments, and words. Decking the child in many colours and ornaments, such love cannot help spreading wealth through extravagance and sweetness through beauty, quite without need. It is clear from aIl this that such is the nature of one's he art. It seeks to join its own emotions to the world outside. Incomplete in itself, it is relieved if it can somehow turn its inller truth into the truth of the world. To the heart, its abode is never just a fabric of brick and timber; it paints its dwelling in its own colours and makes it a home. To the he art, the land that it inhabits is not made up simply of earth, water, 52 Rabindranath Tagore and sky. It is happy only when that land unveils for it the maternaI, life-fostering aspect of the divine: otherwise the heart cannot view itself in the outside world. Failing this, it becomes indifferent; and for the he art, indifference is death. By such means, the heart continually establishes affective bonds with truth. Where there are affective ties, there is an exchange. The mistress of one's heart's abode is a proud housewife: her pride is hurt when she cannot send back a gift to match the one her kin, the world, sends her. To express good kinship, she has to create with such ingredients as word and sound, the brush and the chis el, and thus embellish her gift- basket. If sorne need of her own is served in the pro cess, weIl and good; but often she is willing to express herself at the expense ofher needs. She is eager to proclaim herself even if that makes her bankrupt. Expression is the prodigal wing of human nature: it drives reason, the parsimonious steward, to strike its forehead in repeated despair. The he art asks, 'How can 1 be as true outside as 1 am within? Where in the world will 1 find the right resource and scope?' It continually wails, '1 cannot reveal my own self~ 1 cannot install myself in the outside world: When the rich man feels his own wealth in his he art, he can exhaust Kuber's4 riches in trying to express it to the world. When the lover feels true love in his heart, he can sacriflce wealth, honour, and life in an instant to express that love, that is to make it true in the outside world. The heart never loses its intense eagerness to make the inward into the outward and the outward into the inward in this way. There is a lyric by Balaram Das s which says: You were in my he art, who has brought you out in the open? It is as if the beloved object were an object within the lover's he art. Someone has drawn it out of doors, so the lover is longing to fetch it back inside again. There is the opposite situation as weIl. When the heart fails to perceive its desires and passions in the external world, it tries hard to fashion their image with its own hands out of vari- ous ingredients. In this way, the heart's longing to make the world its own and itself the world's is constantly at work. To express oneself in the outside world is part of this process. That is why when it cornes to expression, the heart makes one agree to lose everything one has. When a barbarian army marches to battle, victory over the enemy is not its sole concern. It manifests its inner violence in external guise by putting on warpaint, sounding drums and war cries, and dancing a wild war dance. It is as though its bel- ligerence is not complete without aIl this. Violence secures its practical goal through battle, and slakes its des ire for self-expression through such superfluous claptrap. Western warfare of the present day has not rid itself totally of drums and music, or of dress and trappings, as expressions of bellicose passion. However, strategic wisdom is more crucial in modern battles: they are progressively moving away from the human heart's habituaI nature. The band of dervishes who attacked the British army in Egypt 6 did not lay down their lives just to win a battle. They died to the last man to express the Hery zeal of their hearts. Those who Hght only to win will never act in such an uncalled-for manner. The human heart expresses itselfeven at the cost of suicide: can one imagine a greater waste?  World Literature 53 Take the instance of worship. It is different for the devout and the clever. The clever one thinks, 'My worship will obtain my salvation: The devout says, 'My devo- tion is imperfect without worship; whether it proflts me or not, worship brings my heart's devotion out into the world where it flnds its full and secure dwelling: In this way, devotion achieves its own fulfllment by expressing itself in worship. To the clever, worship is laying out money at interest; to the devout, it is idle expense. For when the heart expresses itseH: it cares nothing for loss. One's heart is a willing captive to whatever in the universe displays this quality, whieh is also its own: it does not then raise a single question. This thriftless excess in the world constitutes beauty. We glimpse the presence of the heart's creed in the wide world when the flower shows no hurry to turn into seed, but surpasses necessity and blooms in beauty; when the doud does not rush through its chore and dissolve into rain, but tarries to hold our eyes in thrall with uncalled-for bursts of colour; when the trees do not stretch scrawny branches like gaunt beggars for the sun and rain, but shower a wealth of green splendour on the brides of the heavens;7 when the sea is not just a giant clearing-house for dispersing water around the globe in the form of douds, but is awesome with the unfathomed dread of its liquid blue; when the mountain is not content merely to supply the earth with water from its rivers but keeps the force of the terrifie motionless across the skies, lilœ destructions lord stilled in meditation. Reason, that is forever old, shakes its he ad and asks, 'Why such a waste of needless effort aIl over the world?' The heart, that is forever young, answers, 'Only to beguile me: l see no other reason: The heart knows that aIl through the world there is one heart that continually expresses itself. Otherwise why should there be so much beauty and music, so many gestures, shadows, and hints, and such adornments throughout creation? The heart is not blandished by the traffieker's thrift; that is why in water, earth, and sky, there is such superfluous effort to hide necessity at every step. If the world were not replete with rasa,8 we would have remained small and demeaned: the heart would perpetually have complained that it was uninvited to the festival of the world. But the whole world, brimful of rasa despite its countless chores, gives the heart this honeyed message, '1 want you. l want you in various forms. l want you in laughter and tears, in fear and faith, in sorrow and strength: In the world itself: we see two processes at work: the expression of function and the expression of idea. It is beyond our powers to observe and comprehend fully that which is expressed through functions. Our learning cannot encompass the immeas- urable potency of knowledge that it contains. But the expression of ide a is unmediated expression. A thing ofbeauty is simply beautiful. The great has greatness. The fearsome inspires dread. The world's rasa enters one's heart directly and draws the rasa within it out into the world. Whatever hide-and-seek, whatever the hindrance in this meeting, ultimately there is nothing in it other th an expression and union. We thus see a likeness between the universe and the human world. The divine as truth and knowledge is expressed through the world's functioning, and its joyous form is pe~:ceived through its various rasas. It is hard to acquaint oneself thoroughly with the divine-as- knowledge through the world's functions; but there is no 54 Rabindranath Tagore difficulty in apprehending the divine-as-joy through rasa, because through rasa He directIy manifests Himself. ln the human world too, the power of lmowledge is busy at work, and the power of joy is creating rasa. In work lies our faculty of self-preservation; in rasa, our faculty for self-expression. Self-preservation is necessary, but self-expression surpasses necessity. Necessity impedes expression and expression impedes necessity: we have already seen that in the instance of warfare. Self-interest dislikes extravagance, whereas joy declares itselfin prodigality. Hence, in the world ofself-interest, such as at the office, the less we express ourselves the more we are esteemed; while at a joyous celebration, the festivities shine brighter the more we forget self-interest. That is why self-expression finds no hindrance in literature. It dwells far from self- interest. There sorrow draws a film of te ars over our hearts, but do es not invade our homes; fear sways our minds, but does not hurt our bodies; pleasure makes our hearts quiver at its touch, but does not provoke and inflame our lust. Human beings continue to fashion a necessity-free realm ofliterature right alongside their world ofnecessity. In the former they can, without doing themselves any material damage, delight in appre- hencling their own nature variously through various rasas; they can view an unimpeded expression of their selves. In that realm there is no obligation there is only joy; no beadle and bailiff, only the great king himself So what does literature acquaint us with? With humanity's wealth and abundance, which overflows aIl its material needs and is not exhausted within its mundane limits. Hence 1 wrote in an earlier essay9 that although eating involves a universal rasa, equally familiar to young and old, it is a minor presence in literature outside farcical comedy, because it never exceeds the satisfaction of the meal. Once the stomach is full, we dismiss it with the spot-fee of a resounding 'ah'; we do not invite it to the portaIs of literature for an honorarium. But the rasas that overspill the pots in our pantry course through literature in a purling flood. Since practical work cannot exhaust them, the human heart, impelled by that flood-tide, finds reliefwhen it can express them in literature. In such abundance lies the real expression of humanity. It is true that human beings are fond of eating, but true above aIl that they are heroic. Who can contain the powerful impulse of this truth? Like the Bhagirathi,lO it flows right into the sea - crushing rocks, sweeping away Airavat, Il slaking the thirst of town, country, and farmland. Human heroism rises above the world after finishing an the world's worle In this way, whatever in human life is noble and timeless, whatever transcends human need and work, yields itself naturally to literature and automatically fashions humanity's greater image. There is one other factor. What we see in the world we see dispersed - a glimpse now and a glimpse then, a little here and a littIe there; we see an object mingled with ten others. These gaps and admixtures disappear in literature. There all the light is focused on what is being expressed, we are allowed to see nothing else for the moment. Various devices are employed to create a space where that object alone may shine.  World Literature 55 NaturaIly, we will not put something there that would not accord with such intense individuality, such sharp light. That would merely embarrass the unworthy. The glut- ton is not so visible under the coyer of the world's ways; he becomes ridiculous when viewed in focused light on the literary stage. Hence it is natural for human beings to establish in literature the expression that is not trite, that the heart accepts without demur as truly representing its compassion and courage, its fury or calm - that can stand within the pale of proficient art yet withstand, with he ad held high, the unblinking gaze of abiding time; with any other kind of material, the incongruity jars on us. Our minds rebel at the sight of anyone but the king on the throne. But not everyone is capable ofhigh-minded discernment, and not every society is great. There are times when petty, passing infatuations diminish hum an beings. The distorted mirror of such times magnifies the trivial; their literature exalts human pettiness and brazenly highlights its own blemishes. Then virtuosity displaces art, vanity passes for glory, and Kipling takes Tennysons seat. But great time 12 lies in wait, and it sifts everything. Whatever is small and worn-out slips through the sieve to blend with the dust. Among different ages and people, only those things survive in which aIl human beings can discover themselves. The things that pass this test are the permanent and univers al human treasures. Through this process of making and breaking, a timeless ideal of human nature and expression gathers of itself in literature. That ideal stays at the helm to guide the literature of a new age. To judge literature by that ideal is to draw on the support of humankind's collective wisdom. It is now time to make my main point. It is that literature is not viewed in its true light if we see it confined to a particular space and time. If we realise that universal humanity expresses itself in literature, we shall be able to dis cern what is worth view- ing in the latter. No literary work has succeeded unless its author has become the mere means of composition. A work is admitted to the ranks of literature only when the author has realised the ideas of the human race in his own thoughts and expressed humanity's pain in his writing. We have to regard literature as a temple being built by the master mason, univers al man; writers from various countries and periods are working under him as labourers. None of us has the plan of the entire building; but the defective parts are dismantled again and again, and every worker has to conform to that invisible plan by exercising his natural talent and bIen ding his composition with the total design. This is what brings out his artistic prowess; this is why no one pays him a common labourer's wages but honours him as a master builder. Comparative Literature is the English title you have given to the subject I have been asked to discuss. In Bengali, I shaH caH it World Literature. If we are to understand what people are saying through their work, or what their purpose and endeavour are, we have to follow the course of hum an intention through aIl history. The reign of Akbar, the history of Gujarat, the character of Elizabeth viewing history in such isolated fragments merely satisfies our curiosity about fact~ But he who knows that Akbar and Elizabeth are mere vehicles, that throughout history humankind continually tries to fuI fil its deepest desire through diverse endeavours, errors, and restitutions; that it strives to emancipate itself by 56 Rabindranath Tagore )oming in expansive ties with aIl others in every direction; that the ide al of self-government struggles to realise itself in monarchies and thereafter in demo- cracies; that human beings make and unmake themselves to seek expression and to realise their individual beings in and through the collective being of hurnan- kind - such a person seeks in history not an individual but the ever-active intention of the timelessly human. Su ch a one returns home after viewing not just the pilgrims but the very deity they come to worship from aIl parts of the world. Likewise, the thing truly worth seeing in world literature is the way human beings express their joy in literature and the abiding form in which the human soul wishes to reveal itself through the diversity of this expression. vVe need to enter the world of literature to learn whether the human soul is best pleased to declare itself as sufferer or epicure or ascetic, and how far human kinship has been rendered true in the world - that is how far truth has become a human possession. It will not do to know of literature as artifice: it is an organic world. Its mystery is not any individual's private possession. Its creation is a continuo us process like the mate rial world's; and yet in the he art of this unfinished creation, an ideal conclusion dwells immovably. The mass of matter at the sun's core is forming itself in many ways, both solid and liquid. We cannot see the process, but the surrounding ring of light ceaselessly expresses the sun to the world. It is thus that the sun gifts itself to the world and links itself to aIl else. If we could make humanity the object of su ch an integral view, we would see it like the sun. We would see that the mass of matter was gradually form- ing itself into layers, and around it, perpetually, a luminous ring of expression spreading itself joyously in every direction. Look at literature as this ring of light, made of language, encircling humanity. Here there are storms of light, the well- springs of radiance, the collision of radiant vapours. As you walk through hum an habitations, you see that people have no leisure the grocer minds his shop, the blacksmith hammers iron, the labourer carries loads, the trader checks his ledger. At the same time, something remains invisible. See it in your mind's eye: on either side of this road, among the houses, shops, and alleyways, the flood of rasa is spreading itself in so many streams and furrows over so mu ch that is bleak, straitened, and impoverished; the Ramayana and the Mahabhamta, stories and fables, kirtan and panchali 13 are portioning out the nectar of the universal hum an soul to each man and woman day and night; Rama and Lakshmana are drawing up to stand behind the trivial labours of humble folk; the compassionate breeze of Panchavati 14 is blowing through dark tenements; the human heart's cre- ations and expressions are enclasping the privations and stringencies of the labour- ing world with hands decked in bracelets ofbeauty and benediction. This is how we must see the whole ofliterature surrounding the whole ofhumanity. We need to see that the material being of the human race has extended itself far in every direction through the agency of its conceptual being. The rain that falls upon humankind is girt by many showers ofverse and music, many Meghadutams l5 and Vidyapatis;16 the joys and sorrows of its small abode swell with the joys and sorrows of the Chandra and Surya kings. 17 The sorrows of the Mountain King's daughter l8 float around the daughter of a humble home; the poor man's suffering is enlarged in the glory of the  World Literature 57 poor god on Mount Kailas. 19 By this continuous diffusion of the self: humankind seems to exceed and enhance its being continuaIly in the outside world. Although constricted by its situation, humankind is extending itself through the creation of feelings and ideas. Literature is this second world around the material one. Do not so much as imagine that 1 would guide your way through world literature. We must aIl eut our paths through it as best we cano 1 simply wished to say that just as the world is not my ploughland added to yours and to someone else's - to see the world in this light is to take a rustic view - so also, literature is not my writing added to yours and to someone else's. We usually regard literature in this rustic light. It is time we pledged that our goal is to view universal humanity in universalliterature by freeing ourselves trom rustic uncatholicity; that we shaH recognise a totality in each particular author's work, and that in this totality we shaIl perceive the interre- lations among aIl human efforts at expression. Notes In Hindu tradition, the god Krishna was born in the city of Mathura in northern India; before becoming king of Mathura, he was a cowherd in the forest of Vrindavan outside the city. 2 Tagore is quoting from memory a passage in the Upanishads, in which the sage Yajnavalkya remarks to his wife that people love their son not for his own sake but for the sake of their own self Tagore here interprets atman, "self;' as the Supreme Self: tran- scending the individual. 3 Atmiya (usually meaning "a relative") is derived from atman, "self' 4 In Hindu mythology, Kuber is the god of wealth. 5 A leading sixteenth -century devotional poet. 6 Sufi Muslims who fought against the growth of British power in the 1880s. 7 Celestial nymphs. 8 Literally meaning "juice" or "taste;' rasa was used in Sanskrit aesthetics to denote the basic poetic emotion or mood of a work; traditionally, a work of poetry or drama would express one of eight rasas, including love, compassion, fury, and heroism. 9 "A Literary Convention;' published in the journal Bangadarshan in 1907. 10 A name for the Ganges. Il A giant elephant that tried to draw up the Ganges into its trunk. 12 An epithet of the destroyer god Shiva. 13 kirtan: chants; panchali: folksongs. 14 Panchavati: In the Ramayana, the forest where Rama and Sita lived in exile. 15 The Meghaduta or "Cloud Messenger;' a narrative poem by Kalidasa (c. 5th century), in which a cloud is instructed to carry a message between lovers. 16 Vidyapati (c.1352-1448), a poet known for his devotional and love poetry. 17 The divine royal families at the he art of the epic Mahabharata and Ramayana. 18 Parvati, consort of the god Shiva. 19 Shiva, inhis