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1937 Hirendranath Dutt, theosophist and philosopher, in one of his articles on Rāslīlā, asks why mystics and yogis use so much the imagery of passion, wine etc. in their description of experiences of Divine Love. Then he quotes Under-hill to say "... it [human love] most certainly does offer upon lower levels a strangely exact parallel to the sequence of states in which man's spiritual consciousness unfolds itself and which form the consummation of mystic life." I don't agree—unless it is a sadhana of the vital plane which then naturally expresses the vital being = love-excitement, love-quarrels, viraha,1 revolt, despair, rupture etc., etc., frequent surrenders, unions, partings. Dutt has said that according to the Ancients, pleasure of the sex-act is something akin to the Ananda of Brahman. Why? In answer to this, Ouspenski, a famous Russian philosopher, has said: "Of all we know in life, only in love is there a taste of the mystical, a taste of ecstasy. Leave out the "only" — and to a certain extent one can agree— but "love" — not "sex". The interpreter continues: "Nothing else brings us so near to the limit of human possibilities beyond which begins the unknown. And in this lies, without doubt, the chief cause of the terrible power of sex over human life. . . Love, 'sex', these are but a foretaste of mystical sensations." Love and sex are the same, then? There can be no love without sex? This is piffle. 1 The separation of lovers. Page-793 He says further: "Mystical sensations are sensations of the same category as sensations of 'Love', only infinitely highher and more complex." There is much else besides in mystical experience—there are not only sensations. He asks: "If that is so, why then is man averse to this intensely pleasurable mystical activity? Because principally he gets the taste of that mystical pleasure in the sex-act, and he is satisfied with it." What rubbish! Brahmananda is a substitute? The sexual creative act is admittedly the supreme and most desired gratification of the senses. Not to everybody. The sexual creative act is an exact counterpart of the mental and creative processes of which, the East maintains, it is merely the reflexion. Don't catch on. How is sex-gratification a reflex of mental processes—e.g. of the solution of a mathematical or scientific problem or even of the creation of a poem or picture? Because there is a kind of joy in all these things? but it is not the same kind of joy. The transient character of sex-gratification is regarded in the East as an ordinance of Nature so that man may be led to seek the more sustained delight of mental and spiritual creative effort. In the East? by whom? I don't believe it for a moment. To suppose that if sex-gratification were a more prolonged business, Shelley and Shakespeare would not have cared to write poetry—is blank brutal nonsense—They had something else in them besides the mere animal. Page-794 Do you agree with all this, Guru, especially with Ous-penski's opinion? What a question to ask me! As if it were at all possible that I would agree to bring down all values to the level of the animal pleasure. Love may perhaps be a foretaste of mystical sensations, but sex-love also? But people say that sex-pleasure and Brahmananda [Bliss of Brahman] are brothers. The only truth in that is that all intense pleasure goes back at its root to Ananda — the pleasure of poetry, music, production of all kinds, battle, victory, adventure too — in that sense only all are brothers of Brahmananda. But the phrase is absolutely inaccurate. We can say that there is a physical Ananda bom of Brahmananda which is far higher, finer and more intense than the sexual, but of which the sexual is a coarse and excited degradation — that is all. If the transient nature of the sex-act is an ordinance of Nature to lead man to a more sustained delight of higher things, I fail to see why there is so much pleasure attached to it that they compare it to a foretaste of Brahmananda. You say that it is meant for procreation, but the act of procreation could have been managed without this pleasure. Certainly, Nature gave it to encourage her aim of procreation. The proof is that the animal does it only by season and as soon as the procreation is over, drops it. Man having a mind has discovered that he can do it even when there is not the need of Nature — but that is only a proof that Mind perverts the original intention of Nature. It doesn't prove that Nature created it only to give man a brief and destructive sensual pleasure. I won't lengthen my perorations and human reasonings. Will you give a satisfactory reply to all these questions tonight or tomorrow? Well, it can't be tonight, as there are three tons of correspondence. Page-795 (It may be less of course in actual weight, I am giving the psychological estimate.) [In the medical notebook:] I have added against your notes of the 30th certain remarks which I had no time to write then. You may perhaps pass a glance over them. January 2, 1937 N.P. complains of much pain in the eyes—frontal headache after half an hour's reading, eyes watering etc. Manilal advises him to use glasses. He says glasses will cure it. Glasses cure it, means what? The weakness will disappear and he will be able to read without glasses after a while ? . . . About the pot-au-feu, apart from all these, may I point out a little flaw in your argument? French people are used to taking a mixed meal, so the quantity of the vegetable would be very small in proportion. [Sri Aurobindo underlined "very small".] Don't understand. It is a question of the healthiness for the stomach. There is quite enough vegetable in a pot-au-feu to test the stomach and it is not taken once a week only, but often. Moreover, what French people can take and digest, 1 am sure Indians can't. Physically Indians are a far inferior race to the Europeans - an admitted and deplorable fact. It is the other way round. Indians can digest foods (chillied, curried, strongly spiced) which would send a European to his grave in a short time. Indians have a shorter life but dietetically a much more spicy and hot life. January 3, 1937 I was very surprised to read a statement of G—he says that a few months ago he felt in sleep as if he wanted to see a woman. He was shocked to find such an impulse in him after over 40 years of struggle to conquer the sex-instinct. He says also that it was one of the blackest moments in Page-796 his life and if he had succumbed to it he would have been ruined. .. Imagine a man over 60 and practising absolute sex-control for over 40 years, as well as control in speech, thought, food, so sincerely, having such a bout.
There is nothing astonishing in that. First of all, even if it had been in waking, it is to be expected. G's method is ethical, a stern mental control, L, I hear, had a fall from spiritual height, and he is enjoying the life of' 'Krishna''. What then will be our lot ? Alas, alas, where shall we be? But why did he fall? Because he justified the fall as a great spiritual progress ? Of course if you and others do the same, you can't expect to fare better than he did. But then there is no ground for crying "Alas, alas, where shall we be?" Isn't it the same sex-impulse as G's flaming up in another garb in L's case? And the sex-impulse who is said to have known heights in Yoga? [Sri Aurobindo underlined "the sex-impulse who is".] Meaning? It was precisely because L considered the sex-impulse to be a height in Yoga that he went for it. I have been inflige with doubts, and these things are wearing and tearing the soul. Felt almost like rushing away somewhere. Don't you think it is rather silly to allow examples like G's who is 1 nigraha. Page-797 not even a sadhak or L's who did the sadhana of sex-yielding to depress you, as if they had any relation or bearing on the Yoga here. Any answer or "tons of correspondence" still? Plenty of tons. But the answer will be given when I have the questions and some leisure together. About N.P., Manilal says glasses can't cure the disease and once he takes to glasses, he may have to change them every two years or so. That of course, hut it can't be called cure. But that can't be helped unless his eyes are suspended from reading etc., for if he goes on with his occupations with the defect, it may increase. Of course rest to the eyes wouldn't do it, nor would he feel any pain. So? Well, is he prepared to wear specs and accept the sure deterioration of his eyes under their protection? I am trying to have a dash at Herbert's French class which begins at 8.15 p.m. So have to change Dispensary time at night—after meditation to 8 p.m. Mother's approval and a notice can be put up ? Yes. January 4, 1937 Jatin asks me to send you these questions saying "The answer is immanent but it wants clarification and there is Sri Aurobindo who will do it in a minute." So will you do it in a minute ? No. You must not ask impossible miracles from me. He says all sorts of questions arise and temporarily block the way, and he is rather "agitated". Page-798 What is agitating him, the mental question or the problem in a practical form? Anyhow I have tried to answer. 7-1-37 Nirod P has been recommended by Dr. Manilal to put two medicines for her eyes. Mother told her to go to the Dispensary, but she wants a letter of authority so that she may be attended to a little. So here's the letter. You will arrange. Sri Aurobindo January 7, 1937 One misgiving is pressing heavily on my soul. I sense and feel and see that the tone of your letters has suddenly become very grave, rough, stiff and gruff—the owl-like severity with which you had once threatened me. I don't know what I have done to deserve such a punishment. Or is it because you are getting supramentalised day by day that you are withdrawing yourself so ? There must be a reason if my "sense feel" is correct. Well, if you want to press me between two planks and pulverise me. . . Well, I don't want it, you know! I think your sense feel has been indulging in vain imaginations, perhaps with the idea of increasing your concrete imaginative faculty and fitting you for understanding the unintelligible. As you have now much to do with mystic poetry, it may be necessary. But why object to being pulverised? Once reduced to powder, think how useful you may be as a medicine, Pulv. Nirod. gr II. Anyhow disburden your soul of the weight. I am not owled yet, and my supramentalisation is going on too slowly to justify such apprehensions. Neither am I withdrawing, rather fitting myself for a new rush in the near or far future. So cheer up and send the Man of Sorrows with his planks to the devil. I don't understand why P wanted a letter of authority. Has she been made to wait or neglected?. . . I find that patients here, especially ladies, want to be served quickly — 5 minutes at the most! They can't wait, they must go, they have work, etc., etc. Page-799
Important people, you see — necessary for the world action
A seems much reduced and has become a pucca hypochondriac. We have decided to keep him mainly on milk diet. Vegetables and dal don't agree with him. It seems to me that this ought to reduce him more and more. To my experience, not taking food simply eternises the dyspepsia. It is all right for a few days, but to make it a rule kills the stomach. Here I agree with R's principle of reeducating the stomach and intestines. But all that is only a standpoint. If the medical Science does not admit it, I don't insist. And we shall give some assimilable form of cod-liver oil.
No objection to that— Lastly, he must be given some sedentary work.
But he has his classes? January 8, 1937 Oh, Guru, you missed my poem altogether? What a disappointment for me! Didn't see your book was there, I believe — otherwise would have commented. By the way, is it again the correspondence that burdens your soul? Very badly. My soul is disburdened though, and I am happy and bright. Good! January 9, 1937
1 lokasangrahāya cha; And for holding together the people. Page-800 A has no classes. They have been stopped long ago. If he has nothing to do, it is natural he should be engrossed with his stomach. Guru, what do you say to this poem of J's? I am damned if I understand anything of it. Blakish, Mallarmic? Me-thinks it exceeds both. There is no necessity of going beyond Blake and Mallarmé. Their things are often more difficult than this. Have you any more of these mystic members to compare her with ? [Sri Aurobindo put a question mark above "members" which was not very clearly written."] What's this mystic word? At the rate she is going, I don't know, Guru, where she will end. Do you see the end? Why should there be an end? I don't know if anyone will make out anything of her poetry, except your Supramental Self. The explanations of the last two poems, by Jove, are explanations indeed! You mean they are more unintelligible than the thing explained? That about Dawn and Evening was difficult to swallow, but the end of the 51* seems to me to offer no difficulty at all. It is a magnificent rendering of the large movement of the soul towards the Silence — but of course it may be meaningless to a posterity that will, we may assume, know nothing about either Soul or Silence. I sometimes try to project my third eye into posterity and see the reactions in its mind regarding J's poetry. I at once cover up the sight. * The poem's number. Page-801 Is it your posterity that your third eye sees or posterity in general? Posterity has not had the reaction you speak of with B & M— their reputation grows with the lapse of time. They will say—Sri Aurobindo gave expositions of this poetry—ha, ha! and he praised it and gave Force for it! The poetess was undoubtedly "queer", but the Guru? But do you then find that it is bad poetry ? for at fine poetry posterity will not say ha! ha! but at most "Oof! how difficult!" It is only contemporary opinion that is foolishly contemptuous of grand poetry. Now then, have you any time to help us?
I am afraid I have not sufficient time. Won't you try again and wrestle with the
January 10,1937 I am slightly depressed about my poetry, Guru. It seems all mind-made. It is an extremely beautiful poem. What a grumbler you have got inside you! After writing a thing like that, you ought to be licking your lips in satisfaction. Apart from this depression, these last two days I have been feeling unaccountably rotten, sad, irritated, why? Force,please, O please, please, for heaven's sake! No reason. If the Man of Sorrows gets grounds to wallow in agony, he wallows on the ground—if he doesn't he wallows in the waters—if waters are denied to him, he will wallow in the air. If no he will wallow in the void. But wallow he must. Even if you had written a poem as deep as the sea and as splendid as the sunrise, he would still wallow, if that was his fancy — "wallow and luxuriously wail to the world and its Witness." January 14, 1937 1 gabhīr: deep, profound. Page-802 About "licking lips", I shall perorate tomorrow. It is the licked or the unlicked lips that are going to be vocal? January 15, 1937
I have used the word
After all when one coins a new word, one has to take the chance. If the word is properly formed and not ugly or unintelligible, it seems to me all right to venture.
If it is not accepted it will remain a blot in the poem. Tagore coined the word
Why a blot? There are many words in Greek poetry which occur only once in the whole literature, but that is not considered a defect in the poem. It is called a "hapax legomenon", "a once-spoken word" and that's all.
Any opinion, Guru, and does your intuition say anything
on
I really can't say what
In your letter of day before yesterday I could not make out a word. Is it: "he wallows in the grave— "? Gracious! 1pramilā. 2krishnimā. 3trinānchita: covered with grass. Page-803 Ground, sir, not grave. A ground need not be a grave. J is still upset. Please, open your tap a little. She is terribly unreasonable, and she feels herself too easily "tapped" on the head or otherwise. If God wills, please will or shall something in this fully blank page. Nothing to write. You have got the essentials, and I have a damned lot of letters to write. January 16, 1937 Behold! From where comes this unknown Creeper Along the woodland path anointed by the rising Moon? All pain she has tinged with the blue of Heart-stream, She has made Heaven unveil and break out into murmuring billows. The magic of her compassion flowers in her hand, And the thunder-roar that booms the world's end is hushed suddenly; In the morn that is the death of the naked skeleton She stalks over the world, a gathered Fire, voicing her approach. The Dark One has put on a golden garland, And on her delicate forehead burns the flame of red sandal— She, the Eternal Memory, from within the forgetfulness of earth's depths Kindles the first spark of the Word horn of the churning. The eye of the waxing Moon at night-end Pours out of its blue the golden gleam of a dark collyrium. [Translated by Nolini Kanta Gupta from the Bengali.]1 I don't know what this is driving at. I am afraid I don't know either. You have suddenly shot beyond 1 The original Bengali version was sent to Sri Aurobindo. The translation was done on 19.1.37. Page-804
Mallarmé, J and everybody else and landed yourself into the Surrealism of the most advanced kind. Such a line as
The only lines I can make something out of are the first two — the creeper (of the unknown new life) in the woodland path of the moonrise, (spiritual opening)—
It is a very cryptic but also very significant poetic description of the working of the closed-up Energy in the physical centre when it wakes. The couplet might mean that the white-blue moonlight (spiritual light) pours the golden script of the Truth from its eyes (power of vision). The rest may mean a preliminary consequence of the opening in which the wave of Manifestation of Paradise comes and brightens up the anguish of the Man of Sorrows in you with a stream of soul-blue, with the result that the tempest is stopped, there is the day of death for the confounded Naked Skeleton (of the dead old Adam in you) and a concentrated Fire pervades everything. After which, as I have said, the Yoga Shakti uncoils in your physical centre and starts serious business. Great Scott! I think I have unexpectedly solved the riddle. But
It has some meaning, I suppose, but all mixed up. Do you find any meaning in it ? Well, if my prophetic soul has rightly interpreted it, it is not mixed 1In the morn that is the death of the naked skeleton. 2Anointed. 3vajrer rāgīm: the thunder-roar.
Page-805 up but it is recklessly audacious in its whirlingness of cryptic images. Spiritual surrealism with a vengeance. Unfortunately I had no time-A mass of work standing over from the week and no time to finish even that. I will look more carefully into the poem tomorrow. Chand's letter, if you can make out anything. Have made something out of it by my immense power of divination. January 17, 1937 So, you have found a splendid meaning in yesterday's poem, Sir! Quite involuntarily — it dawned on me as I You have asked me to send a petition to my Inspiration, but when the Inspiration is your Supramental Self? Excuse me, no. This is not supramental poetry—so the inspirer can't be my supramental Self. January 18, 1937 Excuse you? What do you mean, Sir? You give inspiration only for supramental poetry? Startling news, Sir! Where have I said that I give inspiration for supramental poetry either only or at all? You said that your inspirer for this or for any other poem of yours was my supramental self. I simply said that it can't be, because a supramental self would produce or inspire supramental poetry - and yours is not that, nor, I may add, is J's or D's or my own or anybody's, We fondly believe that you give inspiration, set apart a time for it, and now you say that you are not the Inspirer ? I say that my supramental Self is not the inspirer—which is a very different matter. Page-806 Pray tell me the mystery. Why shirk the responsibility now, because a surrealist poem has come out? You are responsible for it, I think. Excuse me, no. As the Gita says, the Lord takes not on himself the good or the evil deeds (or writings) of any. I may send a force of inspiration, but I am not responsible for the results. But did you seriously mean that I should send a "petition"? Not very seriously. I was only afraid that you might land us in the poetry of the 22nd century — and that might be a long time to wait for somebody to understand us. All that I do is to remember you and call for your help, and whatever comes I jot down. If I hadn't done this I would have missed these poems. Tell me then what to do. No need to do anything, but continue. If spiritual surrealism is what is in that poem [on Kundalini] then it's not at all bad. But Nolini thinks that there is not much of spiritual surrealism there. Well, if spiritual is objected to, let us say mystic surrealism. The European kind is vital swapnic. Why not send me that surrealist sonnet of yours? No such thing exists, for it was not a sonnet. By your statement we fear that a mixture is coming up in our poetry, and you will exclaim one day: "What? Am I the inspirer of these?!" Not at all. In fact I made no statement. Was there anything objectionable in yesterday's poem? Really, Guru, this disclaimer of yours is terribly mysterious; the more I think of it the more I am puzzled. Page-807 But there was no disclaimer. I simply got my supramental self out of the way and left the brunt to be borne by my non-supramental self. All this time we have known, believed and prayed that you give us the inspiration, and suddenly this? Suddenly what? My statement that your poetry is not supramental? Surely you did not think it was! Please give a satisfactory reply; otherwise this dread will haunt me whenever I take up pen and paper. Rubbish! There is nothing to dread. Nolini has been suddenly inspired to translate that surrealist poem [17.1.37]. Will you have a glance at it at your leisure? Very good translation. January 19, 1937 You have relieved us by your answer. But I thought you have only one Self— the Overmental or the Supramental. Why do you suppose me to be so poor in selves ? When everybody has several, I must content myself with one?
Who is this "I" who sends the Force—which aspect, I mean ? "I" is a pronoun only = the Multifarious One. It would be a pity to stop writing poetry till the 22nd century and have to wait for people to understand it. That would be unyogic, and being untrue to the poet also. From one standpoint; from the other the prudence of postponing for the fitting century might be classed under 1 yogah karmasu kaushalam: Yoga is skill in works. (Gita, 11.50) Page-808 It would certainly be unpoetic. What's your opinion about that bizarre poem—"Good" or "Grand"? what is the word? I can't flatter myself by taking it to be "grand", nor can my poetic being take it for "good" without pain. It was good. I forgot that you did not like "good" poetry, only "fine" and even "very fine". Let us then promote it to "fine", but stop short of "grand". I can just make out the curve of the r. Please solve the mystery and soothe me a little. You are wrong; the "r" curve was conspicuous by its absence. Perhaps I was trying to write in a certain kind of modern English style "grood" = "really good". I wrote a beautiful poem in the early morning, but I can't show it to you for it was done in sleep and I have lost it. Pity, isn't it? Great pity. January 20, 1937 How can one like "good"? To you good, fine, very fine, extremely fine, may be all equal! Of course, to the Divine, yes. Generally one likes good things and dislikes bad things. But you seem to dislike both, which is more Yogic in samata (of a negative kind) than my attitude. If only I had been your critic in your pre-Divine days and pronounced "good" about your poetry, I would have liked to see your reaction! My reaction would depend on whether it agreed with my estimate or not. If all my poetry were pronounced good by an undeniable Page-809 authority, I should be very pleased and perhaps even might lapse from Yogic heights into egoism. Like "good", I like "fine" less than "very fine" and "exceedingly fine", obviously. In that case, you must dislike very fine poetry also — and plump for the exceedingly fine only. But can any poet always and in every line and poem be exceeding? I don't see how you can place fine, very fine, exceedingly fine, on the same level, or how you expect us to like them equally. They may not be on the same level, but they are all admirable— and good in its own way is admirable too. Of course, if while saying only fine, you keep within yourself "exceedingly", it will be all equal to you. I can't see your within, Sir! "It is good", "not bad, etc." shows on the very face of it what it is. Well, but I can't be always turning my inside outside with a mathematical precision — especially at a first reading in a gallop. I put an impression or rather dash it down as it comes — and it seems to drop a "very" in the process or a good drops in = fine. In any case "good" does not mean "bad" or "poor". I want to know from what angle you see and judge — subject-matter, poetry, plane, consciousness or what? I don't see and judge like that—I feel. I have said it is an impression — not an analysis. For an analysis I would have to consider, look from all points of view, analyse, synthetise — no time for all that. Can one write poems from the same source and yet express different ideas in different ways? Or should one strike a different source? If you want to go to the same field quite allowable — but a different Page-810 source in the same field gives a greater 'originality' e.g. in the poem of tonight you did that. J asks: if you have not much time, should she stop sending poems every day?. . . But, Guru, I hear you can read with electric rapidity, only writing has to be done at a paralysed speed, though I doubt it from the nature of your Supramental script. And much writing is only occasional. . . ? Many mickles make a muckle—which translated into English means — a lot of small notes takes a big amount of time. January 21, 1937 I don't dislike "very fine" poetry. Anything short of that is not pleasant. And certainly I plump for exceedingly fine, not at once, but gradually. You can't object to that surely ? Rather exacting to demand that everything written shall be very fine. In A's case, I'm suspecting T.B. of the intestine. But you know very little can be done, if it is that. After D.L.'s death, he has become such a hypochondriac. I don 7 know if we should take an X-ray of his intestine for any T.B. focus. An examination and suggestion of T.B. would probably finish what little morale he has. To discover it is also not very useful since you say that little = nothing can be done. January 23, 1937 Then we have to try what we can for A ? Yes, I am a little discouraged by your answer regarding him.
Why? because I did not favour T.B. research? Page-811 Can we not pull him up in spite of everything? What should we do for that ? If you can get the preoccupation of death and grave illness out of his head, that might help. It is his sense of being desperately ill that prevents the force working. J asks whether she should send her poems every day or twice or thrice a week. She can send every day. It is only that I have not time always to make any long comments. January 24, 1937 J can send her poems on alternate days. You have written that long notes are not possible, then we'll ask only in case of absolute difficulty, when we can 7 help asking you.1 Naturally—but if it [involves] careful reading and [. . .] writing, I can't undertake [to] do it that very day; [besides] that I have masses of [work] to do now — not only letters, [but] I have to prepare something [for] A.P.H.2 otherwise the house will collapse, as they have been [waiting] long without a fresh book. There [are] also translations into French [for journals] which Pavitra is [wanting] me to see, etc. etc. [There] are letters from outside some [of] them very important which are waiting months without [an] answer. If I have to [write] an explanation of 2 poems (her poems are sometimes long) every day it would take too much time. That amounts [to] more than I can do. She says, "If Sri Aurobindo won't see my poems whom should I write for? I don't show my poems to anyone else." Where did I say I wouldn't see them? Too much femininity here! I was discouraged by your answer regarding A's case, 1The original manuscript of the following reply is mutilated. The words in square brackets have been partly or wholly reconstructed. 2Arya Publishing House, Calcutta. Page-812 because the tone of your letter did not give much hope for his recovery. How can one be hopeful when he is morally down like that? X-ray would help in a negative way. Clinical diagnosis is not always correct. Very often all the available methods of investigation are insisted upon in these difficult cases. If there were no positive X-ray findings, one could change one's diagnosis and treat accordingly. . . All that is merely the standpoint of medical convenience. You ignore my standpoint. If T.B. is declared, rightly or wrongly his consciousness receives a fatal blow and the spiritual action is as good as enraye. Yet if it is T.B. of intestines, what is there but spiritual action that can do anything? Medical [Science] can only act in such a case if it changes its philosophy. On that I shall send you an article from the Presse Mgdicale which may throw some light. In France fortunately medical Science is beginning to open Its eyes January 25, 1937 Is today's poem surrealist? If I am going too fast I may put a check. But these blessed images come in so alluring a way that I dance with joy. Surrealism means a dream-sequence poetry—and modem dreams are extravagant. The images may be all right but they get entangled and intertwisted or else on the contrary one jumps from one to another that seems unconnected. Please ask Pavitra to send me the French medical journal. It is with me. January 26, 1937 May I ask what is the nature of Mother's ailment? Occult, with a physical effect in the eye. Page-813 [About my poem:] ... Sir, this sounds terribly surrealistic — If it means anything it is splendid —all of it —but what does it mean? January 27, 1937 1 am ashamed and at the same time devilishly glad that Guru has been floored! But isn't it really a huge joke? ... How is it you didn't catch any meaning in my poem of yesterday? Nolini sees no difficulty at all. It does mean something positively! If it means something palpable to you, why don't you let me into the secret?
You couldn't make out the meaning of the word
In Sanskrit usually means a wife — I was wondering whose wife she was and suspecting adultery. But why do you want the meaning of words? Poetry has to be felt, Sir! Provided there is something to feel. But if feeling is enough, why ask me or yourself for a meaning? I have used the word in today 's poem. It means, as you must know, a sort of a dish in which puja offerings are carried to the temple , so this can't it paint? Not known in the Royal Academy or any other — this painter. What sort of poetry am I writing? Who is this Muse creating this havoc as to founder even the Guru? Surrealist — I suppose. My province doesn't go so far. January 28, 1937 1 vanilā 2 dālā. Page-814 1 knew that it meant something, but not palpably enough to let you in. It was palpable to Nolini who said moreover that it reminded him of Baudelaire. A very big compliment, but I don't know that the parallel can be enforced very far. I have always said that feeling is not enough, but every time you stopped me, saying that mystic poems have to be felt, lived etc., and not understood. Well? As I say, feeling or living is quite enough, if there is something to feel or live. But in surrealism the thing to be felt is itself deliberately incoherent. You have said that your province doesn't go so far. How then does the surrealist intervene between your Force and my transcription unless you want him to do so ? The Surrealist can intervene anywhere, provided the logical mind consents to be a little drowsy. This sort of thing has opened suddenly in me, as you know. I think after your surrealistic poem you have passed it on to me. It may be, but my surrealistic poem was clarity itself compared with this technique. You must be having additional work now. So shall we stop sending poems? Well, I don't know. If they are not too many conundrums — When there is an operation in the hospital, my services are required and it goes on sometimes till 11 a.m. In that case I may miss meditation. What should I do ? I suppose it happens only once in a way? or is it frequent or the rule? Page-815 I hear Mother's ailment is "red eye". It may be then conjunctivitis or even iritis. It is neither. Medical help no good for the Divine? Medicines no use for this even if Mother would take them — only rest as complete as possible, especially from reading and writing or any strain of the eye. January 29, 1937
The first line of my poem of today runs thus:
[Another line:]
J says it is vulgar.
I don't understand the use of the word vulgar here. I don't see anything vulgar in
Why not send that surrealist poem? I would very much like to see what is spiritual surrealism. 1 With what have you filled your pitcher, my beloved ? 2 Take away the pitcher filled with poison. 3purna kumbha: full pitcher. 4vish kalasi: pitcher filled with poison. Page-816 It isn't spiritual, it is comic — and I am not going to send it. It is Nonsense Surrealistic not Unfathomable-Sense S.1 Tomorrow, if you like, I won't send any poem, thus sparing you some time to send me your poem. No use not sending, as I am not going to send. My reference to it was only a joke. I hope Mother is better now. Somewhat. January 30, 1937 Herbert said yesterday that though Baudelaire is a great poet, he is considered an immoral one.
That is not anything against his greatness — only against his morality. Plenty of great people have been "immoral". I had just a glance at Baudelaire's Flowers of Evil and I found this: "The Moon more indolently dreams tonight Than a fair woman on her couch at rest, Caressing, with a hand distraught and light, Before she sleeps, the contour of her breast." What a queer imagination, but vulgar or immoral? What is there vulgar in it or immoral? It is as an indolent distraught gesture that he puts it. How does it offend against morality? It is strange that I get a thrill from these bizarre images. Your inspiration will, I hope or fear, give me a Baudelairean fame—an immoral, vulgar poet! It is a terrible prospect. January 31, 1937 1 S stands for Surrealistic. Page-817 |
. That keeps down the sex fellow, but does not eliminate him. He can start up at any moment. Secondly, it was in sleep when the mind is not in control, unless you have specially practised control of sleep. I don't quite understand the black moment and the potential succumbing. Succumb to what? Does he mean that the effect of the desire continued after waking from sleep or he was shocked in the sleep itself, resisted in the sleep?
, can't be kept waiting.
instead of having visions of posterity?...
in a new sense, meaning fatigue, drowse, slumber. D objected to
would make any surrealist poet's heart wild with joy. I think however you should put up a petition to your Inspiration to rein in this gallop towards and beyond the latest Modernism and give us something less progressive and startling.
with the moonbeams, I suppose and the third quatrain which is rather remarkable. The Energy (secret in the physical centres) accepted (?) the golden Garland (the garland of the Truth) and She (this Kundalini Shakti) who carries in her the eternal Memory of all things secreted in the apparent Inconscience kindles from the oblivious depths of Earth (the material Nature) the first lightning of the Word of the churning of the Depths i.e. the first bringing up of all that is concealed and undelivered in the consciousness of Matter.
still baffles me.
may mean breasts, but it lakes another meaning in the poem: the inflamed desire of the flesh. Even so, is it vulgar?