some observations on arabic poetry

7/29/2019 Some Observations on Arabic Poetry

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Some Observations on Arabic PoetryAuthor(s): Jaroslaw StetkevychReviewed work(s):Source: Journal of Near Eastern Studies, Vol. 26, No. 1 (Jan., 1967), pp. 1-12Published by: The University of Chicago PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/543518 .

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JOURNAL OFN e a r E a s t e r n S t u d i e sJANUARY 1967 * VOLUME 26 * NUMBER IEIGHTY-FOURTHYEAR

SOMEOBSERVATIONSON ARABICPOETRYJAROSLAWSTE TKEVYCH, Universityof Chicago

THEbook under consideration1represents a somewhat hasty rubbing on theAladdin lamp of Arabic poetry. Nevertheless, as an attempt to conjurethe old, almostforgotten by westernArabism,jinni, it is not altogether unimportant.From the didacticpoint of view it may well fulfil its restricted mission. Above all, however, its appearancehelps to keep alive the flickeringflame of that magic lamp whose light draws now onlyelegiac shadows of regret, of nostalgia and, as it were, of bothered conscience on ourcrowded wall of scholarly Arabism.It would be quite reasonable to assume that our colleagues and students in Arabicstudies have at some more or less early stage of their lives passed through a romanticphase, a phase in which it had seemed so natural and self-justifiableto want to becomean Arabist. It is also safe to assume that many of them had been tempted into thisparticular field by vague presentiments of mysterious wisdom and rare delights of an"Oriental"culture all wrappedup in a splendidliteraryattire. Once enrolled as a studentat a privileged university which with full pride displays its list of offerings in Arabicstudies, the tenderromanticsoul of the young initiate receivesits first taste of the Koraniccadences and cascading magnificenceof ancient Arabian poetry in the magic formulaof qatala-yaqtulu. Ultimate fulfilment seems so near then, .. . Several years later,however, the young adept, still a bohemian on the outside, but inwardly already asophisticated man of the world, graduates as an expert on land tenure in nineteenthcentury Iraq. With a lifetime careerof conferencesahead of him, he rides comfortablyon the crest of the wave of success into academia or elsewhere. The old dreams ofaesthetic discovery he now terms youthful fancies merely. He is not ashamed of them,however. Like a flower in the lapel of a well-presseddinnerjacket, they are goodto wear.Such is not necessarilythe life-story of every Arabist, but to a fairshare of us it appliesnevertheless. Maybe, therefore, maybe out of a feeling of loss of innocence, out of sheernostalgia, a new book on Arabicliteratureis always somethingof an event in our circles.It is bought if rarelyread. Just for the touch of it. In generalterms, therefore,ProfessorArberry'snew book on Arabicpoetry will certainlyreceive a warmreception. In isolatedcases it may even reach the class-room and thus fulfil its mission as an introductory

1 A review article devoted to Arabic Poetry: APrimer for Students. By A. J. ARBERRY. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1965. Pp. v + 175. $6.50.

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2 JOURNAL FNEAREASTERNTUDIESguide to the mysteries of that "gardenclosed to many," using the metaphorof a Spanishpoet from Granada.ProfessorArberry'sis a slender book which nevertheless must have imposed a certainrigor on its author, even if it be not much more than the rigor of translation. The bookcontains a fairly long (27 pages) introductory essay. The rest consists of 31 selected andchronologicallyarrangedpoems-with the Arabic text and the English version handilyfacing each other-ranging from pre-Islamic times until the practically contemporaryMacrfifal-Rusrifi(1945),and of an excessively conciseappendixwithbibliographicalnotes.The introductory essay is disappointingly unoriginal. In it the author may even beunderestimatingthe intellectual inquisitiveness of a truly motivated student. It beginswith a series of classical quotations from such authorities as Gibb,Nicholson, and Lyall,in the fashion of a synopsis of the existing view on the origins and nature of classicalArabic poetry, a synopsis which the author concludeswith a rather discouragingstate-ment that "it is most unlikely that more than this will ever be known, saving somemiraculousdiscovery in the unexplored caves of Arabia of an Arabic counterpartof theDead Sea Scrolls" (p. 3).Whereas it is true that decisive additional documentary information on the earliestperiod of Arabicliteratureshould hardly be anticipated, a criticaland linguistic study ofthat literature, as it is available now, should still be capable of yielding further internaldata. This aspect of inquiry cannot be declared a closedchapterso easily, since, whateverhas been done in this respect thus far should rather seem to be a beginning-a firststep only. In some way this also hangs together with the author's statement that "thetheory that all, or most, pre-Islamic poetry is a forgery has now been generally aban-doned" (p. 4, footnote). This theory is thus being abandonedeven more lightly (muchmoreso) than it had been embraced,since there were no meaningfulcorroborating tudiesdone in this respect. Mere declarations of preference for one view or another do notadvance the solution of that interesting problem. Furthermore, if this latter problemwere duly investigated with the use of all our historical, linguistic, and critical tools,maybe such an investigation would also illuminateand strengthen, or eventually modify,our views on the originsof Arabicpoetry.The problem of chronologicalpriority of the qi.t.ahover the qaidah, or vice versa,which the author reviews briefly, is perhaps of a lesser importance than is generallybeing assumed. It will be helpful to remember that one of the early Arabic literarycritics, al-Ja$hiz,terms this type of poem al-qasidah al-qairah instead.2 The termqit.ah is etymologically misleading, and therefore it lends itself to being erroneouslyviewed as part of the standard qasidahas the latter appears in the definition of IbnQutaybah, a definition which in its fulnessappliesto a relatively smallpart of the earliestArabicpoetry, and whose observancein the later poetic developmentlacks the proverbialrigor one so readily accepts to be a matter of fact. It is rather a formal abstraction,attested, as far as it is possible to judge on the basis of the preserved staple of earlypoetry, by relatively few clearexamples. The rest of Arabicpoetry can be forcedinto thepattern of that definitiononly as a sum total of compositesto which an abstract commondenominatoris then applied in a mannerwhich treats all of classical Arabicpoetry as ageneric mass which should be manipulated and ordered from the outside rather thanfrom within each individual poem.Al-Hayawdn (Cairo, 1938), III, 98.


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SOMEOBSERVATIONSNARABIC OETRY 3It is quite obvious that by and large the selections contained in AbsfTammam'santhology, for example, are fragments.It is not necessarilytrue, however, that they hadever formed part of conventionally structured qaidah-poems.The same can be saidabout similar fragmentary poetry contained in the Aghdini.In a literary situation oforal transmission, the small poem must have had its natural place, without precludingthe cultivation of grander genres.The discussion of the Arabic poem in ProfessorArberry'sIntroduction does overlookone important aspect which could be connected with the existence of smaller forms. Theonly distinction he makes concerningthe nature of the Arabicpoem is between the large

qagdahand the fragmentary poem, as if no further classification were possible-particularlywhat we should call classification into genres. Without this furtherdifferen-tiation, not only the formalquestionsin Arabicpoetry will remainobscure,but the veryselections which the author offersto the student of Arabic poetry will be an amorphousconglomerate of verse, with its chronological arrangement giving the impression of amere accident.What one must not forget in attempting to put some order into the development ofArabic poetry is the existence within it, from earliest times onwards,of a thematic andgenre differentiation. The thematic diversity of classical Arabic poetry does not con-stitute separategenres,however.In a variety of combinations the basic poetic themes areonly integrated and structured into the various types of Arabic poetry, which can bedescriptive, heroic, erotic, satyrical, and elegiac. For the most part descriptive poetry,too, does not constitute a genre category. It can be found in all the remainingtypes, andit reflects a poem's style rather than its genre.Viewingthe varioustypes of Arabicpoetry whichreveala formaldifferentiation,we seethat structurally the heroic poem can be either simple or complex. The simple form isbest representedby the shorter or longer odes of the so-calledbrigandpoets, with theirremarkableunity of theme and mood. The highly rhetoricalpanegyricsof later periods,like those of :Abu Tammam and al-Mutanabbi, although showing an independentdevelopment, are structurallysimple or, to be moreprecise,unifiedas well. The complexheroic ode is the most common genre in pre-Islamic and early Islamic poetry. It isprofusely illustrated in the Mufaddalydt and the DAsmaciydt.At first it is less strictly apanegyric in the usual sense, and its two basic elements are the erotic prelude and theBedouin self-praise.Both the descriptive and the pathetic rhetoricalstyles dominate itsmood and diction. With great frequency the erotic and the properlyheroic sections arein an intended antithetical relation to each other. The antithesis of mood and the con-trasting statement of the poet's condition in each section serve to heighten the heroicexaltation of the poet as hero. Most ofArabicheroicpoetry is thereforehighly subjectiv-ized and thus essentially differentfrom the Greekand medieval Europeanheroic poetryin its epic form. This difference, too, morethan that of length and more than the natureof Arabicprosody, should be viewed as underlyingthe limitations of Arabicpoetry withregardto a fuller development of genres.Because of its structuralinvolvement in the othergenres,classicalArabicerotic poetrysubmits at first more easily to the unity of theme rather than to that of genre. Itslyricism tends to be descriptive rather than spontaneously emotional. It is highlysensual, ranging in mood from unfulfilled yearning to carefree erotic infatuation-in the style of the CUdhri poets as well as in that of cUmaribnDAbiRabicah. In the


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4 JOURNAL OF NEAR EASTERN STUDIESindependentpoem, largelyin its later development,Arabic eroticpoetry choosesthe smallform. Within the austerely realistic language and imagery of classical Arabicpoetry, itcontributedgreatly to the enrichmentof the metaphor,since it was most receptive to thebaroqueinvolution of the Arabicpoetic diction of the badiCwhich advancedthe develop-ment of the poetic image from the concrete to the conceptual and abstract. It alsoprovided the vehicle for the symbolic poetry of Arabicmysticism. Yet at the same timeit failed to produce a fully structured form which would be different from the structureit receives when it functions as a componentof a complex qapidah. n this latter respectit not only can serve as prelude to other themes in the form of a nasib section: its lan-guage and imagery can reappearindirectly in the elegy or in the panegyric-so charac-teristic in al-Mutanabbi--or it can become fully merged,in languageand form, with themystical poem. It can also be used organically (i.e. not as a loose prelude) in the satire,as when the Umayyad poet al-'Arjilays false pretenses to the favors of the womenof hisenemies. In theme and languageit thus proved to be the most pliable and submissive ofthe poetic genres. It in itself, however, could absorb and still survive generically, onlysuch extrinsic elements as nature descriptionand sententious poetry. Nevertheless, oneshould not forget that even within a complex qaidah, the erotic section may oftenconstitute the chief element, to which self-praiseand panegyricare only appended,as ifagainst the poet's will. In such cases the inorganic character of the Arabic qaszdahbecomes much more accentuated, since the poem then lacks the balance and harmonydictated by the aesthetic canon of sound structure, no matter how conventional thatstructure may appear.The Arabic satyrical poem, like the heroic ode, can be either simple or complex. Thatmeans, it may or may not have a prelude of an erotic nature. Otherwise it is closelyrelated to the heroic ode by virtue of the frequent contrasting of the satire with thethemes of self-praiseand tribal panegyric. Satire finds its form of expressionin politicalpoetry too, be it in connectionwith the religiousand dynastic partisanships,or otherwiseas a mirrorof the shucibyah.Among the Arabic poetic genres the elegy is perhaps the most interesting as well asthe most challenging one to the critic. From an early simplicity of mood, theme, andstructure, it developed into one of the most advanced poetic forms (if such a thing asadvancement can be said to exist in art). By virtue of its dominantmood of bereavementand sadness it was destined to a higher degree of formalunity. The cathartic impact oftragedy and the melancholyof sorrow which issued from it involved the Arabpoet moredirectly in his theme, producing those glimpses of true poetic experience which are sorare in a poetry otherwise highly form-oriented and conventionalized in theme anddiction.The Arabic elegy can be structurally very rich and complex, without necessarilysufferingfrom disruption into unrelated topical sections in the manner of other Arabicpoetic genres. The elegiac use of the theme of evocation of desolate encampments isdifferent from the use made of the same theme within the nasib. The function of thetheme of nightly loneliness and star gazing is equally legitimate within both genres, theerotic and the elegiac, and it may even be originally elegiac. The heroic theme, too,blends harmoniouslywith the poet's sadness, as the fiercepromiseof revengewas part ofthe Bedouin feeling of bereavement. Philosophical poetry, or rather the philosophicalmood, blends perhaps most harmoniouslywith its elegiac cousin. Poetic description of


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SOME OBSERVATIONS ON ARABIC POETRY 5inanimate nature receives in the elegy a less objective quality and functions organicallywithin the determining mood of the poem.Arabic elegiac style and diction can and often do range, inside a single poem, from lowkey melancholy to high rhetorical pathos. A distinctive feature of the latter style is thegrouping of verses which begin alike, or which even repeat the entire first hemistichthroughout a series of verses, into a single unit of emotional "crescendo." From al-Muhalhil ibn Rabicah and al-Khansa' until the present day this psalmodic reiterationhas continued to characterize the style of the Arabic elegy.It would be oversimplified, however, to regard this reiterative style as elegiac only.Basically it is a rhetorical device and therefore it is used effectively in all types of poetry,whenever the poet aims at rhetorical heightening of the emotional pitch. Quite charac-teristically, one of the most effective uses of this style is to be found in the Koran.3cAmr ibn Kulthfim uses it in the heroic mood4 and Zuhayr ibn Abi Sulm&in the satyrical.5As a rhetorical device this style is also universal, and its use reaches a large variety ofpoetic moods and modes. It is only the marriage of rhetoric and lyricism that makes itmost effective in the elegy, in the manner of the classical ubi sunt, where Frangois Villonand Ibn al-Rfmimspeak in unison, where Sir Walter Scott psalmodizes in a familiar tone:

There, through the summer day,Cool streams are laving;There, while the tempests sway,Scarce are boughs waving;There thy rest shalt thou take,Parted forever,Never again to wake,Never, O never! (Marmion)Similarly, this style is also represented in western poetry in its heroic mood, as inBlake's:

Bring me my Bow of burning gold!Bring me my Arrows of desire!Bring me my Spear! O clouds unfold!Bring me my Chariot of fire! (The Book of Hell)Or in the pristine lyricism of Goethe:

Herz, mein Herz, was soll das geben?Was bedraenget dich so sehr?Welch ein fremdes neues Leben!Ich erkenne dich nicht mehr.Weg ist alles, was du liebtest,Weg, warum du dich betruebtest,Weg dein Fleiss und deine Ruh-Ach, wie kamst du nur dazu!Or in the invective outburst of Shakespeare:

Thou makest the vestall violate her oath,Thou blowest the fire when temperance is thawd,Thou smoothest honestie, thou murtherest troth,Thou fowle abettor, thou notorious bawd,Thou plantest scandall, and displacest lawd.Thou ravisher, thou traytor, thou false theefe,Thy honie turnes to gall, thy joy to greefe. (The Rape of Lucrece)3Suras 81, 82; see G. E. von Grunebaum, Kritikund Dichtkunst, p. 35.4 Mucallaqah, vss. 76-79.

6L. Cheikho, Shu ar4c al-Naipraniyah (Beirut,1920), pp. 562-63.


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6 JOURNAL OF NEAR EASTERN STUDIESOne of the most interesting developments within the Arabic elegy is its turning tohistory personified n dynasties and monuments,to the city, and finallyto the land as theelegiac object. In al-Buhturi's poem on the 'Iwdn Kisrd we find samples of the firsttopic. A more immediate reflection of tragic historical events is the elegy on the destruc-tion of Baghdadduringthe Abbasiddynastic strife, by 'Abfi Yacqfib Ishaiqal-Khuzaymi,and, of course,Ibn al-Rfimi'selegy on Basra. A furtherdevelopmentof this elegiac topictakes place in Moorish Spain, where one could say that it and the classical Arabicelegy culminate with Abfi al-Baqa' al-Rundi's (second half of thirteenth century)mourning over the loss of an entire land and heritage. Later additions to al-Rundi'selegy are only an epilogue to a genre. With the last sigh of "Ay de mi Alhama," aRomance echo of this mood dies on the lips of a Spanish balladier.6After this review of things which are not in ProfessorArberry'sbook, let us now turnto the ones that are. The remainingpart of the Introduction containsan exposition of therules of Arabic prosody, an illustration of the richness of variations of some representa-tive macdni or poetic motives, and a review of the rhetoricalfiguresthat characterizethefull development of the Arabic art of rhetoric-the so-called al-badic,a term whichoriginallyhad this technical meaningof a new theory of rhetoricand which in a popularfashion only received the connotation of a style.It should be clear by now that the reviewer, in striding out so far in his digressions,has usurped for himself the right to think aloud on whatever comes to his mind as hereads the book in front of him; and this time what bothers him is the value of a merelytheoretical approach to Arabic prosody.We seem to forget that we do not read Arabicpoetry. We translate it and leave mattersat that. The same is true of our learningand teaching of the Arabiclanguageas a whole.

In such circumstances Arabic prosody and particularly metrics become a completelyabstract science, divorced from the sound of the language and irrelevant even to thetask of correct translation, once the text has been properly edited and reasonablyvocalized. Since the student is not encouraged,as seems to be the rule and practice, toreproducethe sound and the metric cadence of an Arabic verse, his familiarity with thetheory of metrics only will not improvehis understandingof poetry, let alone his appre-ciation of it, and "the arabesqueof words and rhythms which is so great a pleasureforthe informed critic to analyse," will remain but a myth to him. Within our petrifiedattitude to Arabic poetry the science of metrics will be of practical value to editors oftexts only, as it can be a helpful tool in securinga proper"textual" readingof a verse inmanuscript.But such is not the reasonwhy poetry has a metre. Therefore,even though itis difficult to dispute-as far as scientific precision is concerned-the merit of abstractrepresentationof the Arabicmetric units, the moreconcrete, traditionallyArabicsystemof the tafdcil representationmay be more organicand in the final run moreproductive away to stimulate in a student of Arabic poetry a sense of rhythm and melody, withoutwhich all the theoretical precision in the world will remain dead and meaningless. Apoetic verse needs to be read as only poetry needs to be read, and its mathematicalunitsand numbers are made of a different stuff than the cerebralabstractionsof mathematicsas a science.

Whatever has been said above concerningthe topic of Arabic metrics must not be a6 A review of the Arab critics' understanding ofthe poetic genres can be seen in Amjad Trabulsi's La critique podtique des arabes (Damascus, 1956),pp. 215-38.


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SOME OBSERVATIONS ON ARABIc POETRY 7criticism of anything nor anybody in particular.It is rather a broodingover the painfulfact that our feet are lame and heavy as they walk this field of our choice and not of ourmaking, and that no matter how neatly we pin on our artificial wings of aestheticsophistication, we do not seem to be getting off the ground.The author's discussion of the two remaining topics (the poetic motives and therhetorical figures), although invariably, and at this advanced point monotonously,reused from older books, should be intrinsically very useful. It is particularly importantthat a student of Arabic poetry should be an alert detector of figures of speech, sincethese constitute a substantial share of the Arab poet's technical equipment. But this isfully valid for the later developmentof Arabicpoetry only, when the badiCenrichmentofArabic rhetoric finds its way into the poetic practice. The interest in the poetic macdniis in this respect an older one. It growsout of the entire Arabic natural and social environ-ment and thus out of a particular innate concept of imagination. The virtuosity ofIbn al-Farid in this field, however, is once again a late development, conceivablein thatpoet's period only. Neither the badic rhetoric nor the parallelover-exploitationof other-wise basic poetic motives throw a definitive light on the nature of Arabicpoetry.The fact that already the early poets took great pain in proper composition shouldbecome self-evident from even a hurried look at the impressively disciplined classicalpoem. But this does not diminish the artistic value of Arabic poetry. The concept ofpoetic creation as pure inspiration is an offshoot of western romanticism,with which italso dies. Otherwisethere would be no room forsymbolist or "pure poetry," forMallarm6or Juan Ramon Jimenez.The concept of controlled inspiration, and even of inspiration in the unrestrictedsense, was never completely absent from Arabic poetic practice and theory, however.Thus, when the Prophet asks the poet CAbdal-LAhb. Raw .hahwhat is poetry, the poetresponds: "It is something that throbs in my bosom and is uttered by my tongue."7The Andalusianpoet Ibn Shuhayd,a contemporaryof Ibn HIazm,construes an imaginaryconversation with 'Abi^Tammam, in which that representative of high badiCadviseshim not to interfere with his natural talent if he should feel the compulsionto composepoetry and when his soul would summon him to it. Then, after having completed hiscomposition,he should wait at least three days beforeundertakinga revision.8 It is truethat opposite views on poetic creation abound in Arabic literary criticism as well, butthey come mostly from non-poets and from rather sterile quarters of rhetorical andphilological criticism. Professor Arberry's well-wrought but very-often-heard-beforestatement that "the Arabpoet is rather to be considered,and judged, as a craftsman likeother craftsmen,a goldsmith of words, a jewellerof verbal images" (p. 17), should not betaken with the same conviction the author himself has put into it. Some discriminationas to its chronologicalvalidity, to say the least, should be attempted.Creativetalent, inspiration,originality,the lyrical sense, orpoetic experience,all theseare complicated problems in Arabic literature. Their reduction to a capsule definition,however, has proven to be as tempting as it may seem easy, if one uses the statisticalapproachof the average or if one limits oneself to an arbitrarilychosen period. A justerand more productive approachto the Arab poets' attitudes to these problemswould beone which would avoid the average as something whose relevance is more sociologicalthan aesthetic, and which would situate the Arabic poetic endeavor in the properframe7 Al-clqd al-Farid (Cairo, 1956), V, 283. 8 Al-Tawabic wa al-Zawdbic (Beirut, 1951), p. 136.


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8 JOURNALOF NEAR EASTERNSTUDIESof referenceof an historically defined cultural atmospherewith its intellectual concernsand aesthetics of taste. Within such a frameof referencewe see the Arabpoet as cherish-ing both inborn talent and artifice. We see him proud of both, and we see his criticsjudging him on both accounts. The quality of being nm.tbi2was attributed to some poetsto the exclusion of others-among the pre-Islamicpoets as well as among those of latercenturies and epochs. Unfortunately the reasons for such discrimination are not satis-factorily explainedin critical terms. Only a quotation of one verse or another is producedas illustrating testimony of a supposedly complex critical motivation. Imagination asa creative poetic factor does not appear separately spelled out or even recognizedas anabstract concept broad enough to be given this particular literary interpretation. Theonly form of imaginationknown to classical Arabicliterary criticism even at its highestpoint of development was that of a pictorial conjuring of metaphorical allusions tootherwise concrete or realistically conceivable things. The Arab poet's imagination,therefore,was more clearly manifested, or ratherreferredto, as fancy in the Coleridgeansense, an organizing faculty rather than a creative one. But then, again, it would beerroneousto searchfor this type of conceptualizationof the creative processand for theawareness of a higher form of imaginationso completely outside of the properhistoricaland philosophicalcontext. In western literature and critical thought such an awarenessdid not appear until after Kant, with Schelling and Coleridge,and in comparisonwithanything priorto that period in the West, such Arab critics as al-'Dmidi, CAbd l-Qahiral-Jurjanior Ibn al-'Athirloom up as true pioneerstowards ourpresent understandingofthe nature and the mechanism of literary expression.Poetic inspirationwas known to exist and was referredto in two ways, both familiarto the western view of it: one as an undefinedfeeling surgingin the poet's own soul andthe other as mythicized personificationof the creative impulse comingto the poet as hisshay~tn,from without. It is interesting to notice that in the later Abbasid periodas wellas in MoorishSpain the archaic idea of the poetic shaytdnreappearsin Arabic poetryalready fully transformed and deprived of its archaic pathos, and becomes very muchanalogous to the renaissance view of the poetic muse.The problem of originality in Arabic poetry needs a particularly dispassionateapproach.Arabicterms like hadith,mu~hdathrjadid, or even tarif,do not imply original-ity in a creative sense. Ibtikdr,reflectinga modernsemantic development, does not helpus either. The closest classicalArabic equivalent to our concept of the originalwould bebadic,had it not soon acquireda different,more specificmeaningwithin the terminologyof Arabic literary criticism. Just as these positive terms do not provide us with a cleardefinition of originality, so the negative terms like sariqahand intihdl,too, fail to give usa convincingidea of what is unoriginal-save in the grossest form of plagiarism.And yetthe extraordinary interest which Arabic literary criticism displays in the problem ofplagiarismshould nevertheless indicate a deep concernpreciselywith originality. Thus itseems as if Arabic literary criticism, having failed to formulate an aesthetics of theoriginal, had turned with double zeal to the detection and definition of its opposite.This negative critical zeal quite clearly characterizes Arabic literary criticism in all itsaspects and, while it may have had a useful function in an attempt to check ruthlessplagiarism, it also taught the Arab poet to seek refuge in complicated disguises ratherthan reveal his literary parentage openly, motivating it aesthetically.Above all, however, one should keep in mind that the aesthetics of originality is a


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SOMEOBSERVATIONS NARABICOETRY 9modern notion, a notion which can only exist in a time and in a culture which is notnormatively bound to an ideal of perfection lying in the past. Such is the case withmodern western culture, for example. The quick succession of schools and aestheticpremises which began with European romanticism is essentially a development dis-possessed of an ideal canon lying in the past. Classicism to us, the generations of theflashing"isms,"retainsonly a mythic quality as far as our views of beauty are concerned.We do not attempt to equalit, because it ceased to be the determining deal of ourartisticendeavor: it ceased to be a purpose. To the renaissanceman, however, the classic idealwas alive as a purpose. Thereforethe renaissanceartist imitated, and his baroque heirimprovised on his predecessor's imitation. Categorical originality to them was noprerequisiteof artistic validity. The aesthetic canon of the preterit ideal, althoughbrokenor misunderstoodin artistic practice, remainedunchallengedin theory. Within such anattitude the realm of originality became forcibly reduced to a definite set of aestheticpremises. Within it, too, craftsmanshipor the artistic technique was bound to receivespecial emphasis.Of course, the renaissancestill strikes us as an originaland exciting movement in thearts, mainly because it supposes a rediscoveryof classicalaesthetic ideals and not theiruninterruptedlinear continuation, and also because it generated an unparallelledout-burst of individual genius. Had the classical code been handed down directly from theantiquity and upheld throughout the Europeanmiddle ages, it would soon have endedup totally exhausted, and the excitement and creative ferment of rediscovery-psycho-logically so much more romantic than classicist-would have never existed, as they didnot exist in eighteenth century neo-classicism and academicism.Returning to the Arabic literary example, we may now attempt to understand whyArabic poetry was so "unoriginal"accordingto the modernunderstandingof this term,and why it laid so much weight on the technical accomplishment.Having inherited itsown classicalideal of literary perfection,and having developedinside a medieval cultureof set values, Arabicpoetry couldnot outrunits own shadow. Thus it went on cultivatinga basically classicist tradition, one where the aesthetic ideal and the formal canon thisideal meant to imply were lying in the past. As a result, rather than to be originalandthus depart even furtherfrom the ideal, Arabicpoetry had to be interested in perfectionas a means of formal approximationto a goal from which time was separating it moreand more. It is in such a light also that one should re-examine what D'AhmadAmincalled "the crime perpetrated by pre-Islamicpoetry against Arabic literature."g

As the reader'spatience should not be tested beyond the limit of endurance,a com-paratively hurriedlook at the anthologicalsection of ProfessorArberry'sbook will haveto suffice.It is almost a critical norm that no reviewer is ever entirely satisfied with what makesa particularanthology. Let us not establish an exception, therefore.An anthology whosepurpose is pedagogical should instruct and stimulate interest at the same time. Thepresent one, however, instructs without particularlymindingwhether the student, onceinitiated in Arabic poetry, will care to maintain his interest. It instructs philologicallyand rhetorically. The rest, which is about all that matters, as far as the furtheringof adeeper interest in Arabic poetry is concerned, is left to the student. Something of thisA.l-Thaqdfah, Vol. I, No. 19, pp. 6-10; ibid.,Vol. 1, No. 21, pp. 5-9.


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10 JOURNAL OF NEAR EASTERN STUDIEShas alreadybeen intimated in our discussionof the genre-differentiationn Arabicpoetry.To begin with, no critical questions raised in the Introduction are fully answeredby theverse selections. Thus we fail to find among the poems in the anthology a single onewhich would convincingly illustrate Ibn Qutaybah's definition of the qaspdah.Onlyselections No. 2 (al-Nabighah),No. 8 (Abfial-'AtThiyah)and No. 29 (Shawqi),with theirextremely lopsided structure, have any relation to it at all. The overall approachto theselecting and the listing of the poems is dry and impersonal,without revealingany validline of taste of the anthologist, or any meaningful development taking place in Arabicpoetry. Maybeone interest of the author can be detected, however, and that is in poetryas an historicaland political commentary.Because of this, Mihyhral-Daylami'sotherwisesolid poetic talent is poorly represented by selection No. 16, Khalil Matran (No. 30)createsthe impressionof beingbut an average patrioticversifier,and al-Rusaifi No. 31)-with more justification-a journalist in verse. Maybe because of this, too, the longestpoem of the entire anathology is al-Shidydq'sgrotesque ode to QueenVictoria (No. 27)which Professor Arberrysomehow manages to find "a very interesting example of thenineteenth-centuryrevival of the classicalnorms"(p. 137).To be sure, the reviewer has agreat sympathy and admiration for al-Shidyaq, but he also has some loyalty to Arabicpoetry.Concerningthe quality of the translations, there is relatively little to say. ProfessorArberry is certainly the most dedicated and experiencedtranslator of Arabic verse intoEnglish to-day. A few remarks or suggestionsmight be called for, however.Thus, in the poem by al-Samaw'al(No. 1), vs. 5,jdr may not be understoodas kinsmanbut rather as neighborunderprotection.The realproblem,however,is with al2-aktharina,which appearstranslated as "the most part of men". This is wrong,becauseal-aktharinacan only be properly understood contextually, with referenceto the meaning of canndqalilun.Thereforeal-.aktharinahereare not "the most part of men," but "thosewho arevery many in number." Only then will the entire verse have a convincing meaning.The second hemistich of vs. 10 lacks precision as well. IHaythus to be understood as"wherever." In vs. 12 "females and stallions who bore us . . ." is incorrect logically aswell as grammatically.The firsthemistich of vs. 18 receivesthe easy yet doubtfulreadingof "Our'days' are famous among our foes." Instead, one should understandit accordingto the expression land yawmunft al-'ac dd'i. The hemistich would then mean: "Our'days' against our enemy are famous," i.e.: what we have done to our enemiesis famous.In the poem by al-Nabighah (No. 2) the renderingof the second half of vs. 7 neglectsthe specificmeaningof dhllika. The footnote which explains this verse is misleadingtoo.Literally translated, the poet says in this hemistich: "you did not considerthem to besinning in their gratitude for it." In context with the preceding verse, the poet thuswants to say that Nucmin should not blame him for having been grateful to his formerpatron, just as he (Nucmin) did not find any fault in the gratitude his own proteg6esexpressed to him.In the poem by al-KhanstA No. 4) the readingghayrakhawwdri n vs. 6 does not agreewith the translation. Such a reading is possible, only that then murakkaban t nisdbinwouldgain a differentmeaning.The translator,obviously,understoodthe verseaccordingto the standardreadingghayrikhawwdri.

In the poem by Bashshshkr bn Burd (No. 6), vs. 4 resiststhe translator'sunderstandingof it. Fa tacazzaytu...introducesanindependentsentenceandshouldbetranslated:"There-


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SOME OBSERVATIONS ON ARABIC POETRY 11fore I consoled myself . .." This will also alter the punctuationof the precedingverses.The note to vs. 1 of the poem by 'Abuial-'Atahiyah (No. 8) which says that "the poetlaments in Jahili fashion the ruins of a former'encampment'is misleading.There is noarchaic lamentation here. What the poet gives us is a recollection of a gay excursion torather bucolic places where the ruins are merely decorative. He laments the briefness ofthe time spent there and not the decayingromantic sites. As such it is rather a new themeappearing in the matla'. Verses 8 and 9 in this poem have to be understood in context.Thereforethe adjective ghartrdoes not mean "shy." There is an antiposition of meaning,or like a paradox,between these two verses. The inexperienced(ghartr),naive fawnis in adeceptive fashion instrumental to the extraction of secrets through the power of thewine. The wordgawm n vs. 8 is not simply people. In various contexts it can refereitherto tribesmen, to fighting men, or to a group, as in the present case.The translation of hduduis "rest" in vs. 12 of the same poem, is too noncommittal.Because of the familiartraditionalsituation given by the verses that follow, hudi~refersto a stage of night.In the poem by 'AbfITammam (No. 9), the translation of vs. 6 representsperhapstooconfident a reliance on al-Tibrlzi.Other commentariesdo not agree with such an inter-pretation. In any case, the translator does not take into account the acc. in cajd"iban,for which there is no place in his version: "Marvelsthey alleged the days would re-veal ....." A reasonable translation seems to be: "Marvels would there be! The days,they alleged,would take fright from them in the Safarof all Safarsor Rajab." Concerningvs. 66, the translator chooses to follow al-Tibrizi as well but without accepting thatcommentator'sreading of 'atrdban instead of Dabddnan. his is confusing. Grantingtherequirements of jinds, one should still understand the verse as referringto the swordsbeing plunged into the bodies of the enemies rather than returned into their sheaths.Thejinds appearsonly as a furtherallusion or connotation, of which one word can haveseveral, and the more such connotation it has, the more useful it becomes poetically.In al-Buhturi'spoem (No. 11),maca al-aakhassi l-'akhassi of vs. 5 cannotbe translatedas "towards the ignoblest of the ignoble." The second al-'akhassistands in appositionto the first one, implying furtheremphasis.The suggestionof a constructwill only puzzlethe student, since precisely concerningthis verse there is no explanatory note. Gram-matically this construction could be understood either as the first al-aakhassibeing asubstantive and the second its adjective, or as an emphaticreiterationof a type formallyrelated to al-Sharif

al-R.di's:fihi al-.acazzu al-'a~habbuNo. 15, vs. 13). In vs. 7 "andthen" should rather be "lest." In vs. 11 rahli can also mean "camel saddle," withoutsubstantially affecting the understandingof the line. "You are alarmed,"in vs. 22, failsto convey the right connotation. "Filled with awe" should be better. In vs. 26, insteadof "cautiously ...," one should read "diligently (or strongly) advancing . ..." Sincemushhprovokes the reaction of mulh., they should convey opposingactions properof abattle. CAldal-'askarayniin vs. 29 should be understood as "in view of ...." The trans-lator's "over" is flat. Verses 31 and 32 appear blurred in the translation. VIdhd ..(whenor as it gives freshpleasure)of vs. 31 shouldhave been retained, and vs. 32 shouldthen begin "That it is poured into ...." The rendering of the second hemistich of vs. 35is completely meaninglessas an image. The reviewer has nothing positive to offereither,

but at least in a case like this, the students should be warned that any translation is amereguess. Otherexisting attempts at renderingthis hemistich are equally unsuccessful.


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12 JOURNALOF NEAR EASTERNSTUDIESThe second half of vs. 46 might well be understooddifferently:"consistingof (min) menstanding (wuqtfin)behind the throng and of camels able to endure thirst (khunsi).Thetranslator's note concerning the interpretation of verses 48 and 49 is wrong. In theseverses the poet wants to say that the evocation of the past is so strong and so immediatethat (vs. 49) one could almost think of overtakingit. Only in vs. 50 does the "passingofdynasties" theme come up.In the poem by al-Mutanabbi(No. 13), lahdin vs. 12 is a misprint.The correctreadingis limd. Verse 15 would be better understoodif, instead of the semicolon after "arbiters,"there were a colon, with the second hemistich followingas a generalstatement orverdict,applicableabsolutely. The entire verse sounds rather like a proverb.In vs. 26 "asvictoryadvanced"is not exact, since wa al-nasruqddimudenotes result oreffect, and shouldthusbe translated: "and victory has come," or "came." The second half of vs. 38, althoughcorrectly interpretedin the note, is not renderedforcefully enough. The statement in thisverse is an absolute one: "but one who escaped from you being despoiled is a spoiler,"or "... has gained booty indeed." Al-cawdsim n vs. 40 can hardly be translated as"capitals,"particularlywith reference to Sayf al-Dawlah. In vs. 41, "Yours is the praisein regardto the pearlwhich I spit out" is excessively archaicand inadmissible,becauseitdoes not take notice of the true metaphor contained in this hemistich. Here the poetcompares Sayf al-Dawlah's exploits to a pearl and himself, his poetic gift, to the wavewhich throws that pearl ashore (lafazahu).Of course,the conventionalmetaphoricusageof "pearl"as the component partof the poem,with lafazaas "toutter," is self-understood.In the poem by 'AbiuFirAs(No. 14), vs. 19 has been completely misunderstoodby thetranslator. Its meaning will become quite clear as we come to vs. 23, where and al-jdrud1zddi ba~t.uncalayhimu

akes us back to jandbu. Verse 19 should thus be read: "Thenights pass, and there is no place with regardto me to look for profit, nor quarter forpetititioners to turn to."The translation of the poem by al-Sharif al-Rd.i is on the whole uneven. Verse 6should probably be read as a question, in context with vs. 7. The question in vs. 11 is arhetoricalone, and therefore'illd should not be rendered as "except." In vs. 19, insteadof wa kayfa, the reading wa .iaythuis to be preferred.The verse would then cease to beinterrogative and would follow along the descriptive line of vs. 18. The excessivelyformalistic rendering of jardthfmas "deep-rootedtrunks," makes vs. 23 unintelligible.In order to make the syntax of vs. 47 more convincing, ramf.daninstead of ramidunshould be preferable (as in the ed. of Muhammad Muhiy al-Din CAbdal-Hamid, Cairo,1949). The translation of vs. 65 contains an obvious absurdity. Here the meaning ofDujinnacan only be "buried" (for "hidden" or "deposited").In the poem by Mihydr al-Daylami (No. 16), the contextual relationshipof vss. 38, 39to vs. 37 seems to be lacking coherence,although the translator'sphrasingis ambiguousenough so as to cause some difficulty in disentanglinghis own understandingof the vss.38 and 39. With some tailoring, the meaning of vs. 39 (the clearly misunderstoodone)can be restored, however. Thus, one should rather read: "Nor would a beautiful woman(dropping"be") secure the whole of her life from some evil eye, be (instead of "being")in need of amulets."

Thereshould still be a few minorobservations to make concerningone oranotherof theremainingtranslations,but the reviewer is too anxious to abandon this course of criticismwhich he sincerely wishes had been avoidable.

some observations on arabic poetry

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