Texts & Translations Ecumenism and Globalism in the Reception of Ferdowsi and his Book of Kings Evidence from the Bāysonghori Preface Olga M. Davidson May 29, 2020 Share Ferdowsi reading the Shahnameh to Shah Mahmud of Ghazni (1913). Vardges Sureniants (Armenian, 1860–1921). Image via Wikimedia Commons. Olga M. Davidson [A pre-edited and pre-typeset version of a chapter to appear in print, forthcoming. Cross-posted at Classical Inquiries] Preliminaries §A. The focus here is on two Persianate texts. The first is the Shahnama or ‘Book of Kings’, the monumental poem of a poet retrospectively named Ferdowsi, or ‘man of paradise’, who lived in the late 10th and early 11th century CE. The second text is in prose: it is a comparably monumental preface to a lavish new edition of the Shahnama that was commissioned in 1426 CE and published in 1430 under the aegis of a Timurid prince named Bāysonghor. The Preface, which was likewise commissioned by the prince, tells the story of the poet and of his poetry. Such a story can be mined by literary historians as a source for reconstructing the reception of the Shahnama—not only in the era of Ferdowsi but also in later times, culminating in the era of Bāysonghor. From the standpoint of the Preface, as I will argue, the reception of the Shahnama can be described in modern literary critical terms as a model of ecumenism and globalism. §B. Such a modernistic description, of course, would at first seem alien to ancient readers of an edition stemming from the fifteenth century of our era, distanced as they are from our own century by well over half a millennium. On the other hand, these same ancient readers would also be distanced, by almost as long a stretch of time—over 400 years—from the era of the poet Ferdowsi himself, who first put together the Shahnama as we know it. §C. In view of this relative equidistance, I find it justifiable to re-examine the two terms ecumenism and globalism, testing the value they bring to my project, which is, to reconstruct historically the ancient reception of the Shahnama. Such a re-examination, as we will see, will show that these terms are perfectly applicable to the ancient reception of the Shahnama in the era of the Preface commissioned by the prince Bāysonghor. §1. The two terms that I just highlighted, ecumenism and globalism, are ordinarily used in the context of studying world literature as it is understood today, and all three of these terms, including now world literature, are relevant to an assertion that we will see being made in the text of the Bāysonghori Preface about the newly-edited version of the Shahnama, which as I already noted was composed over four hundred years earlier. Basically, the Preface asserts that the poem is universal in its appeal. In terms of such an assertion, then, this monumental poem could be described as world literature. §2. But there is an impediment here, in that the world in which the literature represented by the Shahnama came to life was different from the world today. To put in a slightly different way, the world literature of the Shahnama was different from the world literature of today. §3. If this statement holds, then the terms I have highlighted so far will need to be adjusted in the context of my analyzing the historical background that shaped the two texts under study here, that is, both the poetic Shahnama composed by Ferdowsi and its prosaic Preface commissioned by the prince Bāysonghor. For such an analysis, I find it useful to highlight importance of another term I am using, reception—precisely in the context of analyzing the relevant historical background. An impediment to the use of the terms ecumenism and globalism §4. The terms ecumenism and globalism are suited to the study of world literature as viewed in the world of today, where the word world ideally includes all of humanity, that is, everyone who inhabits Planet Earth. Such idealism admittedly tends to be “westernized,” as in the work of William H. McNeill, The Rise of the West: A History of the Human Community (1963/1991), for whom the “ecumene” of the world today arose from European interactions in the realms of science and technology combined with political and economic know-how. By contrast, the world of Ferdowsi as mediated in the edition and preface commissioned by the prince Bāysonghor in 1426 CE was an empire that included all of humanity inhabiting whatever realms were controlled—either for real or at least notionally—by the dynasty of the Timurids as represented in this case by Bāysonghor. In other words, this world of Ferdowsi was an imperial project. §5. Ironically, the history of the word “ecumene” as used by McNeill actually reveals, in its earlier history, a comparably imperial project. This word, which had been oikouménē in the original Greek and which had once meant simply ‘inhabited [earth]’ to ancient Greek geographers, was eventually appropriated by the Roman Empire as a designation of all the realms populated by all humans under Roman control. One of many examples is the picturing of Oikoumene as a goddess in the act of crowning the Roman emperor Augustus, as carved into the Gemma Augustea, dating from the early first century CE (Ramage and Ramage 1991:106–107). §6. Similarly in the case of geographically globalistic expressions like “Planet Earth,” ancient contexts point to projects of empire. A most striking example in this case is the use of the Latin word orbis, meaning ‘globe’ or ‘sphere’, with reference to the shield of Aeneas in Virgil’s Aeneid (8.449): this hero, as the poeticized originator of the Roman Empire, is pictured as carrying the weight of his enormous new shield upon his shoulder, and, as the description proceeds, this enormity is pictured as the orbis or ‘globe’, analogous to the entire world weighing on the shoulder of Atlas, mainstay of the universe. That is to say, the mythical originator of the Roman Empire is carrying on his shoulder the weighty burden of his imperial project (Nagy 2010:357). An adjusted application of the terms ecumenism and globalism §7. Having shown the rootedness of the terms ecumenism and globalism in the historical context of what I have so far been describing as imperial projects, I am now ready to adjust these terms before I apply them further to the historical realities surrounding the Shahnama in the era of the Timurid prince Bāysonghor. Basically, my adjustment amounts to this: the ecumenism and globalism of the poem, asserted in the Preface to the poem, is limited in reality, if not in ideology. Although the preface to the poem asserts an idealized universal acceptance of the poem, such universalism is in reality limited to the historical confines of the empire ruled by the Timurid dynasty at the time. An adjusted application of the term reception with reference to the Shahnama §8. The idea of universal acceptance, asserted in the Bāysonghori Preface to the Shahnama, is relevant to the term reception as used by literary critics. This term is nowadays generally applied to re-readings, in the present, of literature once read in the distant past. In terms of such a general understanding, the re-readings in the present are neutral about valuing or devaluing the readings in the past. In the case of the Bāysonghori Preface, however, the attitude is not neutral but one-sidedly positive in evaluating the Shahnama as read in the present, by contrast with negative as well as positive evaluations in the past. In the “present time” of the Bāysonghori Preface, the text of the monumental poem that it introduces is supposedly perfect and thus worthy of universally positive evaluation. So, I adjust the use of the term reception with reference to the Shahnama as introduced by the Bāysonghori Preface. §9. An additional adjustment must be noted here: as we will see in the stories told in the Bāysonghori Preface, the reception of the Shahnama can be viewed not only as the act of reading the poetry composed by Ferdowsi but also as the act of listening to the performance of his compositions. Modern receptions of the Shahnama §10. Aside from the traditional reception of the Shahnama as viewed from the standpoint of the Bāysonghori Preface, I would argue that various kinds of modern reception can be just as favorable. I would also argue that the poetry of Ferdowsi can have a universal appeal even outside its historical contexts. So long as this poetry is translated effectively, as for example in the English-language renditions by Dick Davis (2006), the Shahnama can becomes “user-friendly” for non-Iranians as well as Iranians. §11. If the Shahnama were to be “owned” exclusively by Iranians, there would always linger an assumption, implicit or even explicit, that this masterpiece of poetry cannot really be appreciated properly by non-Iranians. In translation, however, this poetry can be recognized by non-Iranians together with Iranians as a jewel of World Literature that truly rivals such “Western” classics as Virgil’s Aeneid or the Homeric Iliad and Odyssey—to cite perhaps the most formidable points of comparison. §12. The argument that I just presented about the value of reading the Shahnama of Ferdowsi in translation can be extended, I argue here, to a parallel reading, again in translation, of four surviving biographies of Ferdowsi. I will hereafter refer to these four narratives as Lives of Ferdowsi. The fourth one of these Lives, as we are about to see in the Excursus that follows, is found in the Bāysonghori Preface to the Shahnama. Excursus on the Lives of Ferdowsi §13. The four Lives of Ferdowsi are found in the prefaces to various manuscripts of the Shahnama. The prefaces have been edited, with commentary, by Moḥammad-Amin Riāhi (1993), Sar-Chashmahā-ye Ferdowsi Shenāsi—a work that I will hereafter abbreviate as MAR. I list here, in chronological order, these prefaces (and I indicate the page-numbers in MAR): Preface 1. The so-called Older Preface, dated 346 AH = 958 CE (MAR 170–180) Preface 2. The Preface to the so-called Florence manuscript of the Shahnama, dated 614 AH = 1217 CE (supplemented by the preface of the Topkapı manuscript, dated 731 AH = 1330 CE) (MAR 264–287) Preface 3. The 3rd or “intermediate” Preface (MAR 326–338) Preface 4. The Preface to the so-called Bāysonghori Shahnama, commissioned 829 AH = 1426 CE and completed 833 AH = 1430 CE (MAR 349-418) I also list here three other biographical sources: Source A. The “autobiographical” references to Ferdowsi in the Shahnama itself Source B. A short episode about Ferdowsi in Tārikh-e Sistān, the “core text” of which is dated to 448 AH = 1062 CE Source C. An abbreviated Life of Ferdowsi, Episode 20 in the Chahār Maqāla of Neẓāmi ʿArużi, composed somewhere around 550-552 AH = 1155–1157 CE (Moʿin 1954:75–83) §14. Of special significance is the fact that all the four Lives that I listed as Prefaces 1 2 3 4 are linked directly to the textual transmission of the Shahnama, in contrast to the three Sources A B C, listed immediately after Prefaces 1 2 3 4. Also to be contrasted, if we go farther afield, are eleven Lives of Homer that have survived from the ancient Greek world: in the case of these Homeric Lives, not one of them is linked directly to the textual transmission of the Homeric Iliad and Odyssey. The absence of evidence for such linking is a disadvantage for Hellenists who study Homeric poetry, and this disadvantage is noted somewhat sardonically in a conversation that I once had with Gregory Nagy wearing his hat as a Hellenist, while I was wearing my hat as an Iranist. It happened in the context of our introducing twin papers on the “Lives of Homer” and the “Lives of Ferdowsi” that we presented for an international conference held at Baku, 27–28 November 2015, and organized by Rahilya Geybullayeva and Sevinj Bakhyshova (Müqayisəli ədəbiyyat və mədəniyyət: Ədəbiyyatın və mədəniyyətin başlanğıc meyarları). See the video linked to the URL https://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/the-rhetoric-of-national-literature-in-the-shaping-of-two-different-biographies-of-poets-one-greek-and-one-persian/. The point that I was making there is recorded in what I say starting at minute 7:40 in a conversation that lasts from minute 0:00 to minute 8:48. Later on in the presentation that I am offering here, I will elaborate on what I said in my “twin paper” about the advantage of studying Prefaces 1 2 3 4 in the context of the overall textual transmission of the Shahnama. For now, however, it will suffice to note that this “twin paper” about the Lives of Ferdowsi is the same text as the essay that is listed in my bibliography below under the entry Davidson 2015.12.17. Similarly, the “twin paper” of Nagy about the Lives of Homer is the same text that is listed in my bibliography under the entry Nagy 2015.12.18. Focusing on the Bāysonghori Preface §15. Of the four Lives of Ferdowsi, I focus on the grandest one. It is found embedded in Preface 4, the Bāysonghori Preface, to be abbreviated as BP in my citations. This Preface is in its own right a grand introduction to a truly monumental book known as the Bāysonghori Shahnama. The production of this book, containing the Shahnama of Ferdowsi in its most expansive form, around 58,000 verses in length, was commissioned by a Timurid prince whom I have already mentioned at the beginning of my presentation. His full name was Ghiath-al-Din Bāysonghor b. Shahrokh, and his death-date was 837 AH = 1433 CE. The date for the commissioning, as I also already mentioned, is recorded as 829 AH = 1426 CE, and the laborious process of producing the book was finally completed in 833 AH = 1430 CE by Mawlānā Ja‘far Bāysonghori, a calligrapher from Tabriz who was apparently a librarian to the prince. §16. For almost two decades by now, I have been working on a long-term project of translating Preface 4 into English. The results to-date of this work-in-progress are scheduled to be published online, and there will be regular updates thereafter—likewise online. While working on this translation for all these years, I have published a series of six essays about the Life of Ferdowsi as contained in the Bāysonghori Preface, citing in these essays earlier versions of the translation-in-progress to which I have just referred. In the bibliography for my present work here, under the name “Davidson,” I list these six essays in chronological order, giving only the dates of publication: 2001, 2008, 2013c, 2013d, 2014, and 2015.12.17. The last of these six essays, Davidson 2015.12.17, has already been mentioned earlier. This essay appeared as an online publication, and it represents the beginnings of an online monograph that I am planning. The monograph will develop further the arguments already presented not only in the sixth essay but also in the other five. And the title will be Lives of Ferdowsi as evidence for the reception of the Shahnama—which is based on the title of the sixth essay. For such an online monograph to take shape, however, I first needed to produce a seventh essay that would supplement and augment what I had already presented in the sixth essay, that is, in Davidson 2017.13.17. What I present here, then, is the seventh essay. A story about the poet’s disappointment: genesis of the “Satire” §17. In studying the narratives preserved in the Lives of Ferdowsi, especially in the Bāysonghori Preface, I will focus here on one particular story that tells about the feelings of disappointment experienced by the poet Ferdowsi in reaction to the indifference or even hostility of the Sultan Maḥmud of Ghazna, king of kings, whom the poet hoped to have as his primary patron—and who, as patron, would have been expected to reward Ferdowsi for producing poetry that glorified him. The poet’s reaction to the negativity of the Sultan, according to this story, was to change course and compose verses that now turned around and blamed Maḥmud instead of praising him. These negative verses of blame are conventionally known as the “Satire.” In the version of the Life of Ferdowsi as transmitted in the Bāysonghori Preface, that is, in Preface 4, we read a retelling of the story of the Satire. Even more, the verses of the Satire are extensively quoted in Preface 4. §18. Many experts who study the Shahnama have a big problem with the retelling, in Preface 4, of the story about the Satire—and even more so with the actual quoting, as it were, of verses from the Satire. The problem can be restated by way of asking three questions: One, how could Ferdowsi in the Shahnama praise the Sultan for his greatness and then go ahead and undo that praise? Two, if he did try to undo such praise, how in fact could it possibly get undone? And, three, if the poet really intended to undo the praise that he had already lavished on the Sultan in various passages of the Shahnama by then turning around and blaming him in the Satire, why would the text of Preface 4, which introduces the Shahnama that contains all those praises of the Sultan by the poet, include in this same introduction the blame that is intended to undo the praise—together with a framing story that justifies the blame? §19. All three of these questions are reactions to a basic fact, which is this: the acts of praise for Maḥmud by Ferdowsi were organically embedded inside the text of the Shahnama and could therefore not be readily extricated from that text. And there is a second basic fact: the embedding of the praise was chronologically layered. That is to say, Ferdowsi praises Maḥmud at several different points within the length of the Shahnama—and these points in time are regularly contextualized, as when the praise happens at a point where the poet is referring to a particular phase of his own life. It is like saying: I the poet praise you the Sultan because you are great, and I praise you at a point in time when I am X years old and when Y things have been happening to me. For an appreciation of these two facts, namely, the embedding of the praise and the chronological layering of that praise, I recommend a thorough reading of a book by Shapur Shahbazi (1991), who conscientiously tracks all the self-references of Ferdowsi throughout the vast corpus of verses contained in the transmission of the Shahnama through the ages. §20. Although I disagree, as we are about to see, with the solution proposed by Shahbazi himself in confronting the problem that I have just outlined, I must put on record my deep respect for his systematic approach in collecting all the details to be gleaned from the text of the Shahnama itself about the life and times of Ferdowsi. For Shahbazi, the one and only reliable source we have for learning any details about the life of Ferdowsi is the actual text of the Shahnama, which I have labeled as Source A in my earlier listing of three sources, A B C. §21. Before we consider the solution proposed by Shahbazi, however, I ask this hypothetical question: what if Ferdowsi, in “real life,” simply changed his mind about the Sultan Mahmud? I thought you were a great man, but you are not, and so I will now blame you instead of praising you. Such a question, simplistic as it is, runs the risk of viewing the poet himself in a bad light. How could Ferdowsi praise Maḥmud so lavishly and for so long in the course of his lengthy poetic career? Was the poet all that naïve? Or was he perhaps insincere? I did not really mean it when I said, wherever I was praising you in my poetry, that you were oh so generous, but now, finally, after all these years, I can say for sure that you were in fact always mean-spirited. §22. The very idea of entertaining such hypothetical questions about naïveté or insincerity is understandably unappealing to experts who insist on defending the character of Ferdowsi, since, to their own way of thinking, such questions undermine the moral integrity of the poet and even of the poetry. §23. I have reached the point where I am ready to consider the solution proposed by Shahbazi (1991). Defending the poetic integrity of Ferdowsi, he argues that the story about the Satire is an invention, and that the Satire itself is a “forgery,” in the sense that Ferdowsi himself could never have composed it (pp. 8, 97–103). Shahbazi goes even further: he argues that Ferdowsi himself never even went to the court of Maḥmud, and that he merely sent copies of his poetry to the Sultan (pp. 18, 83–103). §24. But then the question remains: why would such a story about the Satire get to be retold—and why would the verses of the Satire get to be requoted—in the prestigious Preface 4, the Bāysonghori Preface, which at the same time introduces the text of the very same Shahnama that proclaims as its patron the same king of kings who is defamed by the Satire? A new way of analyzing inclusions of the “Satire” in the poetry of Ferdowsi §25. I propose a different solution. Let me start, however, by making three concessions. First, I accept the idea that the Ferdowsi of the Satire is a Ferdowsi who is different from the Ferdowsi of the Shahnama as we know it. Second, I also accept the idea that this different Ferdowsi would seem to be a false poet, not a true one, to some Iranians. And, third, I would even accept the idea that the verses of the Satire would seem to be a “forgery.” But I should quickly add: the Satire would seem to be a forgery only to some Iranians in the era of Prince Bāysonghor, especially to those who embrace a Sunni world view, but not to other Iranians, especially to those whose world view is Shiʿite and not Sunni. In terms of my proposed solution to the problem confronting us today as we read in Preface 4 both the Satire and the story that contextualizes the Satire, what we see in this part of the Preface is a life of Ferdowsi that contradicts other lives of the poet. I use here the word “life” not in the everyday sense of “a real life” but in the literary sense of a vita, that is, of a story of a life—a story that is a myth. And I use the word “myth” here not in the everyday sense of “a story that is not true”—which is what Shahbazi means when he says that the story about the Satire is “merely a myth” (p. 91). Rather, I use the word myth in the anthropological sense of a narrative that conveys, by way of storytelling, the truth-values of the society in which the given narrative had evolved in the first place. Such an anthropological understanding of myth is in fact far closer to the original meaning of the ancient Greek word mūthos, from which the modern word myth has been borrowed. In the “twin paper” of Nagy 2015.12.18 about the Lives of Homer, which I already cited earlier, the term Lives in his title actually refers to different myths about the life of Homer. Correspondingly in the title of my “twin paper,” Davidson 2015.12.17, about the Lives of Ferdowsi, the same term Livesrefers to different myths—yes, myths, in the anthropological sense of the word—about the life of Ferdowsi. §26. In §6 of his “twin paper” on the Lives of Homer, Nagy says that his aim is “to show that the narratives of these Lives are myths, not historical facts, about Homer.” In this context, he adds an important qualification: To say that we are dealing with myths, however, is not at all to say that there is no history to be learned from the Lives. Even though the various Homers of the various Lives are evidently mythical constructs, the actual constructing of myths about Homer can be seen as historical fact. The claims made about Homer in the Lives can be analyzed as evidence for the various different ways in which Homeric poetry was appropriated by various different cultural and political centers throughout the ancient Greek-speaking world. The same can be said, as I argued in my “twin paper,” about the Lives of Ferdowsi. Here too, the different claims that we read in different sources about the life of the poet can be analyzed as evidence for different historical contexts that shaped the transmission of poetry attributed to the poet. A new way of analyzing the reception of the Shahnama §27. In both the “twin papers” I just cited, a theoretical term that Nagy and I both used in addressing the question of finding historical contexts for the transmission of poetry is reception. And, in both papers, it is argued that there had existed two parallel media for the reception of both ancient Greek poetry and medieval Persian poetry: one medium was of course the text, which had to do with whatever was written to be read, but there was also the parallel medium of oral tradition, which had to do with whatever was composed to be performed for listeners. §28. Since I am focusing on Preface 4, which as we saw was an introduction to a vastly expanded version of the Shahnama, produced in 1430 CE, I need to focus also on the kind of reception that was in store for the poetry of Ferdowsi in that era. For the moment, then, I must concentrate not on the life and times of the poet Ferdowsi himself, who flourished in the late tenth and early eleventh century CE, but on the status of the poetry attributed to him in the era of the text of the Shahnama as published by the prince Bāysonghor over four hundred years later, in 1430 CE. How this poetry was received in 1430 and thereafter is what I need to highlight here. §29. I have already elaborated earlier here on the ecumenism, as it were, of Prince Bāysonghor in producing an augmented form of the Shahnama that spoke to the widest possible range of reception—as would befit the empire of the Timurid dynasty, which demonstrated its claim to imperial greatness by trying to outdo even the cultural as well as political ambitions of the Sultan Maḥmud, who had once been, so many years earlier, the ultimate patron of the Shahnama. §30. What I see, then, is a rivalry between Bāysonghor and Maḥmud as patrons of the Shahnama of Ferdowsi. I say it this way because, even though the two of them are separated by hundreds of years, Bāysonghor is competing with Maḥmud in promoting the Shahnama. That is why, I think, Preface 4 can give some credit to Maḥmud as a potential supporter of Ferdowsi, but the ultimate credit must go to Bāysonghor for his full support. Moreover, Preface 4 makes Maḥmud look bad occasionally, especially in the Satire, but even this negativity about Maḥmud is primarily motivated, I think, by a correlative positiveness: Maḥmud must be demeaned as a foil for the sake of elevating someone else who is supposedly a far better patron of poetry, and that ultimate patron must be the princely figure of Bāysonghor himself. Details about the reception of the Shahnama before the era of Bāysonghor §31. I will be concluding this presentation with a translation of a striking passage taken from the Satire embedded in Preface 4, that is, in the introduction to the Bāysonghori Shahnama. But before I show this passage, I propose to provide here some details about the reception of the Shahnama before the era of Bāysonghor. These details come from sources A B C as I have listed them earlier. I will proceed here in chronological order, moving forward in time. In Source A, which is the actual text of the Shahnama as we know it, we can already see signs of potential disapproval, on the part of Ferdowsi, in situations where he is praising Maḥmud. Even Shapur Shahbazi (1991: citations from this book will hereafter be abbreviated via SS), who does not even accept the idea that Ferdowsi ever tried to demean Maḥmud, takes note of passages in the Shahnama where the poet offers “advice and warnings” to the Sultan in contexts where he is primarily praising him. [SS pp. 102–103.] In Source B, which is a short episode found in the Tārikh-e Sistān, dated at around 1062 CE, it is reported that the Sultan Maḥmud commissions Ferdowsi to turn stories about the hero Rostam into verse, and that Ferdowsi recites his composition to Maḥmud; it is added that the performance lasted for seven days. But Maḥmud is not satisfied with the content of the stories, and he expresses his dissatisfaction to Ferdowsi: I have a thousand warriors like Rostam in my army. Ferdowsi is ready with a retort: I don’t know about your army, but Rostam is unique, and God has never again created anyone else like Rostam. Upon saying this, Ferdowsi takes his leave, politely. After he leaves, Maḥmud says to his minister: I think this man has just now insulted me. And the minister says back to the Sultan: Ferdowsi must be killed. But Ferdowsi cannot be found. The upshot of the story is that Ferdowsi has left the court of Maḥmud without any reward and that he ultimately died in exile. [SS p. 4.] In Source C, which is Episode 20 in the Chahār Maqāla of Neẓāmi ʿArużi, composed somewhere around1155–1157 CE [SS 2n4], we read that Ferdowsi, who is a dehqān or landowner in Ṭōs, spends 25 years composing the Shahnama, hoping that the reward for his labors will provide a dowry for his daughter, who is his only child. The governor of the city, whose name is Ḥoyayy son of Qotayba, treats fairly the landowner poet, not oppressing him with taxes. When the poet completes the Shahnama, then and only then (so it seems, in terms of the narrative) the composition is transcribed, by a scribe named ʿAli Daylam, in 7 volumes. Then and only then (so it seems, in terms of the narrative) the composition is performed by a “reciter” named Abu Dolaf. After that, together with Abu Dolaf the reciter, Ferdowsi sets out for Ghazna, capital of Sultan Maḥmud. There he finds as patron a kāteb ‘scribe’ of the Sultan. This scribe, named Aḥmad-e Ḥasan [Maymandi], “presents” the Shahnama to Maḥmud. The Sultan “accepts” it and is grateful to Aḥmad-e Ḥasan. But Aḥmad-e Ḥasan has enemies, and, when the Sultan asks these other men how much he should pay to Ferdowsi (I note here that payment is somehow assumed) these detractors suggest 50,000 dirham-s [= silver coins], and even this sum would be too much, they say, given that Ferdowsi is a rāfeżi ‘rejecter’ [of Sunni values]. So, Maḥmud, Sunni that he is, follows the advice of the detractors, and the poet “receives” only 20,000 dirham-s. Insulted, Ferdowsi spends the sum on a “bath-man” and a “drink-seller.” Then, “fearing the wrath” of the Sultan, he flees to Herāt, where he spends six months hiding in the house of Esmāʿil Warrāq, father of the poet Arzaqi. Then, when it is safe for him to travel, he takes “his” Shahnama to Tabarestān, to the court there of the king Spahbad Shahryār. This king treats Ferdowsi kindly, and the poet composes a “satire” in 100 verses against Maḥmud, “offering to dedicate” his Shahnama to Spahbad Shahryār, since the poet’s Shahnama “glorifies” the ancestors of this king. (I note a contrast here with the king Maḥmud as patron, whose ancestry is questioned in the Satire.) But Spahbad Shahryār “was one of the vassals of Maḥmud,” and, “appealing” to the Shiʿite orientation of Ferdowsi, he “advised” him to “follow the path of the House of the Prophet” and to seek no “worldly gains.” The king offered a gift of 60,000 dirham-s to the poet and persuaded him to destroy the Satire; Ferdowsi went ahead and destroyed the hundred verses, so that now “only six verses are extant.” Now, an added detail (almost as an afterthought): Ferdowsi was also persuaded to retain the “original” dedication to Maḥmud. That was the additional advice of the vassal-king. (Further below, I describe this maneuver as catch and kill.) After that, Ferdowsi eventually goes back to Ṭōs, where “he spent the rest of his life in poverty and in fear of the Sultan.” But, meanwhile, Aḥmad-e Ḥasan is working on Maḥmud to forgive Ferdowsi “and to reward him properly.” One day, as Maḥmud is dictating a letter threatening an adversary, he asks Aḥmad-e Ḥasan for the right wording, who then quotes for the king a memorable passage from Ferdowsi. Now Aḥmad-e Ḥasan guilt-trips Maḥmud, how this “poor poet” had labored for 25 years and “was left unrewarded.” Finally, Maḥmud repents and sends to Ferdowsi 60,000 dinār-s [gold coins] plus an apology. But, too late. The caravan that is bringing all the gold enters Tabarān via Gate Rudbār while the corpse of Ferdowsi exits via Gate Razān. A cleric in Tabarān forbids burial in the cemetery, and so Ferdowsi is buried in his own orchard, inside the Gate. His tomb is still there, and ‘I [= Neẓāmi ʿArużi] made a pilgrimage’ to it, ziārat kardam, in the year 510 [= 1116 CE]. “They say” that Ferdowsi left a daughter, who refused the gift. The amount was spent on a rebāt ‘hostelry’ on the road between Marv and Nishāpur. [In my paraphrase here, wordings formulated by SS pp. 2–3 are embedded in double-quotation-marks.] §32. In Source C, the lengthy narrative of Neẓāmi ʿArużi that I have just now finished epitomizing here, I find a stunningly interesting point of comparison with a kind of event that is still with us today. I indulge myself here by making the comparison. As we see in the version of the story as told by Neẓāmi ʿArużi, Ferdowsi reacts to being rejected by Maḥmud, king of kings, by seeking the patronage of another king. This alternative patron is well disposed toward Ferdowsi but fears retaliation from Maḥmud, since this particular king is a mere vassal of the king of kings. I should quickly note here, in passing, that Maḥmud and this “vassal-king” were not really contemporaries, in terms of history. In any case, in terms of the story, this alternative patron persuades Ferdowsi to destroy most of his verses that blamed Maḥmud. In return for destroying these verses, Ferdowsi now receives a reward from this alternative patron. Such a reward, I find, is comparable to a ploy known today in the world of tabloid journalism as catch and kill. The owner of a given tabloid, pretending that he wants to publish an incriminating story about a Very Important Person, proceeds to buy the story from the seller of the story, but the real purpose of the publisher is not to publish the incriminating story but, rather, to keep that story from ever getting published, thus protecting the Very Important Person. Here is a relevant article about catch and kill: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/ronan-farrow-gets-new-book-deal-investigative-title-catch-kill-1111126. §33. I have drawn attention to this point of comparison because it brings home to us the sheer liveliness of Lives of Poets stories. For me, at least, these stories are at times just as engaging as the poetry they elucidate. And, for those who are newcomers to, say, the poetry of Ferdowsi, I think that the experience of reading in translation the Lives of Ferdowsi—especially the Life that we find in Preface 4—would enhance the experience of reading the Shahnama itself, which I had described from the start as a jewel of World Literature. Coda §34. With these thoughts in mind, I close this essay by showing here a sample taken from the Satire as quoted in Preface 4 (MAR 403–404). This sample gives an idea of the poetic power that drives the Satire, which is a poem that one observer (Vaccha 1950:72, to the dismay, however, of Shahbazi 1991:89n56) has described as “perhaps the most terrific denunciation of an individual in the history of literature”: جهاندر اگر نیستی تنگدست مرا برسرگاه بودی نشست If the king, who possesses the world, had not been so tightfisted, my place would have been on a seat of dignity. چو فردوسی اندر زمانه نبود بد آن بد که بختش جوانه نبود There has never been anyone like Ferdowsi— what is cruel is that his fate is to be no longer youthful. چنان پادشاهی و بخشنده ای زشاهان گیتی درخشنده ای Such a king and such a potential benefactor, a most splendid one among the kings of the world, نکرد اندراین نامه از بن نگاه زگفتار بدگویش آمد گناه did not delve all that deeply into this book. His iniquity was galvanized by the calumny of the backstabbers. بسی رنج بردم دراین سال سی عجم زنده کردم بدین پارسی I labored hard in these past thirty years, bringing to life what was incomprehensible through the Persian language so pure. Bibliography Bahār, M.-T., ed. 1935. Tārikh-e Sistān. Tehran. Davidson, O. M. 2001. “Some Iranian poetic tropes as reflected in the ‘Life of Ferdowsi’ traditions.” In Philologica et Linguistica: Festschrift für Helmut Humbach, ed. M. G. Schmidt and W. Bisang, supplement, 1–12. Trier. Davidson, O. M. 2005. “Persian/Iranian Epic.” In A Companion to Ancient Epic, ed. J. M. Foley, 264–276. Malden, MA, and Oxford. Davidson, O. M. 2008. “The Testing of the Shāhnāma in the “Life of Ferdowsi” Narratives.” In The Rhetoric of Biography: Narrating Lives in Persianate Societies, ed. L. Marlow, 11–20. Cambridge, MA. Davidson, O. M. 2013a. Poet and Hero in the Persian Book of Kings. 3rd ed. Ilex Foundation Series 11. Cambridge, MA. 2nd ed. 2006, Costa Mesa, CA; 1st ed. 1994, Ithaca, NY. Davidson, O. M. 2013b. Comparative Literature and Classical Persian Poetics. 2nd ed. Ilex Foundation Series 12. Cambridge, MA. 1st ed. 2000, Costa Mesa CA. Davidson, O. M. 2013c. “A pictorial aetiology of Ferdowsi as a transcendent poet.” In Ferdowsi, the Mongols and the History of Iran: Art, Literature and Culture from Early Islam to Qajar Persia, ed. R. Hillenbrand, A. C. S. Peacock, and F. Abdullaeva, 245–248, plates 9–10. London and New York. Davidson, O. M. 2013d. “Interweavings of book and performance in the making of the Shahnama of Ferdowsi: Extrapolations from the narrative of the Preface to the Bāysonghor manuscript.” In Ferdowsi’s Shāhnāma: Millenial Perspectives, ed. O. M. Davidson and M. S. Simpson, 1–11. Cambridge, MA. Davidson, O. M. 2014. “Why the Bāysonghori Recension is a Recension.” In No Tapping Around Philology: A Festschrift in Honor of Wheeler McIntosh Thackston Jr.’s 70th Birthday, ed. A. Korangy and D. J. Sheffield, 127–130. Wiesbaden. Davidson, O. M. 2015. “Parallel Heroic Themes in the Medieval Irish Cattle Raid of Cooley and the Medieval Persian Book of Kings.” In Erin and Iran: Cultural Encounters between the Irish and the Iranians, ed. H. E. Chehabi and G. Neville, 36–44. Cambridge, MA. Davidson, O. M. 2015.12.17. “‘Life of Ferdowsi’ myths as evidence for the reception of Ferdowsi: A Multiform Reception of the Shahnama as reflected in the Bâysonghori Preface.” Classical Inquiries. https://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/life-of-ferdowsi-myths-as-evidence-for-the-reception-of-ferdowsi/. Davidson, O. M. 2016. “The Written Text as a Metaphor for the Integrity of Oral Composition in Classical Persian Traditions and Beyond.” In Singers and Tales in the 21st Century: The Legacies of Milman Parry and Albert Lord, ed. D. F. Elmer and P. McMurray. Classics@ Issue 14. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hlnc.essay:DavidsonO.The_Written_Text_as_a_Metaphor.2016. Davis, D., trans. 2006. Shahnameh: The Persian Book of Kings. New York. McNeill, W. H. 1963. The Rise of the West: A History of the Human Community. Enlarged, with a retrospective preface, 1991. Chicago. Moʿin, M., ed. 1954. Chahār Maqāla of Neẓāmī ʿArūżī. Rev. ed., 3rd printing. Tehran. Earlier ed. 1948, by M. M. Qazvini. Nagy, G. 2010. Homer the Preclassic. Berkeley and Los Angeles, CA. Available online at http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hul.ebook:CHS_Nagy.Homer_the_Preclassic.2009. Nagy, G. 2015.12.18. “‘Life of Homer’ myths as evidence for the reception of Homer: The Lives of Homer as Aetiologies for Homeric Poetry.” Classical Inquiries. https://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/life-of-homer-myths-as-evidence-for-the-reception-of-homer/. Ramage, N. H., and A. Ramage. 1991. Roman Art: Romulus to Constantine. New York. Riāhi, M. A., ed. 1993. Sar-Chashmahā-ye Ferdowsi Shenāsi. Tehran. Shahbazi, A. S. 1991. Ferdowsī: A Critical Biography. Costa Mesa, CA. Vaccha, P. B. 1950. Ferdousi and the Shahnama: A Study of the Great Persian Epic of the Homer of the East. Bombay. OLGA M. DAVIDSON is Research Fellow in the Institute for the Study of Muslim Societies and Civilizations at Boston University, Chair of the Board of ILEX Foundation, and member of the Advisory Board of Mizan. She is the author of Poet and Hero in the Persian Book of Kings (Cornell University Press, 1994; 2nd ed. Mazda Press, 2006; 3rd ed. ILEX, 2013) and Comparative Literature and Classical Persian Poetry (Mazda, 2000; 2nd ed. ILEX, 2013), as well as over two dozen articles and reviews.