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    AboutPremodern Fables Compared

    Kalila and Dimna fables, their audience and translations in pre-modern France

    AboutPremodern Fables Compared

    Kalila and Dimna fables, their audience and translations in pre-modern France

    This presentation is very much work in progress still.1 It represents just a tiny wedge in what at first appeared as a side issue to myresearch on Anvar-e Sohayli and which is increasingly becoming a fascinating topic for research on its own merits.

    There is no end to our study of the Book of Kalila and Demna (henceforth, KD) which present truly exceptional case-studies for a wholearray of literary research topics and in particular, of course, translation studies.

    What I highlight today is the introduction of the KD fables to pre- or early-modern 17th and 18th France, a moment when Frenchcourtly culture and thought were reaching dazzling summits.

    I view such ascending cultural moments as the result of typically, a specific culture welcoming irrigation by more mature externalinfluences that have already reached their golden age.

    Younger cultures integrate and develop their borrowings and will in turn become the source for yet newer developing culturaltraditions. In 17th -century France, Safavid Persia, Ottoman Turkey and even China are all the rage. Their visual arts and their literarytreasures feed the imagination and pollinate within French literature, theatre, music.

    KD is part of this interest, it is welcomed in France, rediscovered in fact, as the French or Latin medieval versions of the book werelong forgotten. The fables, in their remarkable Timurid version, the Anvar-e Sohayli, fascinate French intelligentsia.

    Anvar-e Sohayli is the late fifteenth-century Persian Timurid rewriting of the Kalila and Dimna fables, composed by Va’ez Kashefi, afamous author at the time, a great preacher and member of the close group of courtiers and intellectuals around ‘Ali Sher Nava’i and theruler himself, Sultan Husayn Bayqara.

    Kashefi creates one of the most memorable versions of the KD. Let us remember that this collection of fables is meant to function as agrim and very effective Mirror for Princes. Not about how to rule the people or how to administer the army or the finances, but how tostay alive at the to, surrounded by sharks in this triangle of constantly shifting power between the courtiers and nobles, the vizier andthe ruler.

    Kashefi’s Anvar-e Sohayli is a rewriting. The Timurid author engages – and is very upfront about it, with an older, twelfth-century,Persian translation of the KD fables, by the Ghaznavid writer Nasrollah Monshi. This latter work presents itself as a direct translation ofthe famous 8th-century Arabic Abbasid mother version of the KD text, composed by Ibn al-Moqaffa’.

    Kashefi’s AS is also the source of other versions, it functions as the mother version of the 1588 C.E. ‘Eyar-e Danesh: an abbreviatedversion written in Persian by Abu’l-Fazl for the Moghul Akbar. AS is also translated into Ottoman Turkish by Ali Chelebi ben Saleh,who calls his work the Homayun Nama and dedicates it to Sultan Soleiman (?around 1540?).

    Today’s brief presentation focuses on the 1644 Livre des Lumières ou la conduite des Roys composé par le Sage Pilpay. Thistranslation of the four first chapters of AS is done in French and presented at the Court of the young Louis XIV.

    Through the Livre des Lumieres, AS is also the source for the 1678 second volume of Fables by Jean de la Fontaine. The poetidentifies Pilpay as the inspiration for several of his fables. Though he keeps the situations found in AS, he mostly effects a thoroughshift to lighter, more amusing thoughts and points, moving away from the original’s deep grimness.

    And through the Ottoman Homayun Nama, AS is also the source for the competitor French translation published 80 years later in1724. Contes et Fables Indiennes is a translation done by Antoine Galland (completed by Cardonne) and proposed to the court ofLouis the XV, though no specific patron is named in the Introduction. Antoine Galland, for memory, is the extremely successfulauthor/translator of the Arabian Nights or 1001 Nights (published from 1704 to 1717). He was appointed French ambassador in Istanbul(at the court of Mehmet IV) between 1670 and 1675, during which time he learned Ottoman Turkish, Persian and Arabic. He returnedtwice to Turkey: in 1678 and again from 1679 to 1688. He collected manuscripts and art and became “Antiquaire” to the French king.

    Back to the Livre des Lumières. This work is key in disseminating the Anvar-e Sohayli in England. It was translated by Joseph Harris intoEnglish in 1698 as The instructive and Entertaining Fables of Bidpai. A good seven decades letter, Anvar is then hailed as a masterpieceby Sir William Jones in his 1771 A Grammar of the Persian Language. It is unclear which of the French 1644, 1724 or the English 1698versions might have influenced Jones.

    So, what do we know about this work? In 1644, an interesting new work hits the French literary market. It is titled: Livre des Lumières oula Conduite des Roys. Composé par le Sage Pilpay, Indien. Traduit en Francais par David Sahid a Ispahan, Capitale de la Perse (Bookof Lights or the Manner of Kings. Composed by the Sage Pilpay, the Indian. Translated in French by David, Seyed in Esfahan, capital cityof Persia). And it is printed in Paris, with special royal privilege.

    The existing research about this work does not flag any issue. But, as I started to dig, I did vaguely anticipate that, in true KD fashion,problems would arise… and I was right!

    In the 1644 print, which I have used on the Bibliothèque Nationale website, we find no mention of other authors, beside the Indian Sageidentified as the original author, and this David Sahid from Isfahan, the translator into French. Nevertheless, this work is usuallyattributed – on what grounds? – to a famous seventeenth-century French orientalist, Gilbert Gaulmin. Meanwhile, the identity ofDavid, Sahid (which I understand as Seyed, lord, noble) of Esfahan, remains cloaked in mystery. Too quickly to my mind, thismysterious David is sometimes identified with a student from Lebanon who was employed by Gaulmin, referred to as Hazard orHazaid. I see no reason to assume that this would be the same person as David Sahid.

    So far, I have not been able to shed any light on this mystery, but I am far from having exhausted all avenues of research. But it isperhaps no mere coincidence that, even in this early modern French environment, the famous KD game about identifyingmysterious authors is continued even in this early-modern French environment.

    Gaulmin is well-documented as a 17th century lawyer and high administrator, member of the seraglio around great French ministers,Cardinal de Richelieu, Cardinal Mazarin and Chancelier Seguier.

    Gaulmin eventually reached the position of Conseiller d’Etat (State Minister?). He was also a remarkable linguist with Latin, Greek,Slavonic, Hebrew, Arabic, Turkish, Persian, Armenian under his belt.

    He also shares with other KD authors, the dubious privilege of having spent time in jail – the Bastille in his case – it is unclear whetherthis was because he was developing unusual theological theories, or because he was a libertine, or perhaps both reasons playedtheir part in his imprisonment.

    As with all the authors/translators of KD, we are dealing here with someone very high in the State curriculum. In 1644, he hasalready climbed several echelons on the ladder and seems also to have been building a nice fortune, possessing a magnificentoriental library, which the Queen Christine of Sweden attempted to buy from him. The books eventually found their way back toFrance and found a home in the collections of the Bibliothèque Royale, later Impériale, now Nationale.

    Also as several others in the long line of KD predecessors, Gaulmin is asked to produce his KD version by one of the highest person atcourt.

    His Book of Lights is dedicated to Chancelier Seguier (d. 1672), Chancellor of France, the most powerful man after the King, whoseems to have tasked him with translating important oriental books of political wisdom.

    Gaulmin described the Anvar, as noted in the Prefatory address to the Chancellor, as the most highly esteemed work in the Levant, bothfor its contents which deal with the actions of Kings, and for its author, minister of a powerful monarchy.

    Next, he gives his French 17th-c readers some necessary background on the book. These details take over the usual early legendaround the arrival of the work in Persia. The original author, Pilpay, was the powerful minister of the king of Hindustan and he decidedto condense all his political wisdom in this book to teach all kings, the true and just ways to rule over their people.

    Gaulmin examines the possible reasons for expressing his purpose in the medium of stories (parables). At first blush, his explanationseems superficial. He used (animal) parables because “these stick better in the mind”. Or else, says Gaulmin, his purpose wasprobably “to shame people for having ignored so far what the animals in the stories practise in their lives”. Next, Gaulmin echoes the well-known episode of KD’s twosuccessive literary thefts: King Dabshalim kept this book and passed it on to his descendants until king Nushirvan (Nouchireuo) ofPersia heard about the book and sent his Doctor to India to acquire one copy at any price. The Doctor did this and translated it intoPahlavi, the ancient language of the Persians. After several negative mentions about the Arab conquest, Gaulmin continues:eventually the translation of this book was ordered by the Abbasid Almansur. This was done by Abulhassan Abdallah. This was thentranslated into Persian by Nasralla ben Muhammad ben Abdelhamid. This version became more famous than all the others, and thisis the source for the current translation.

    Thus for Gaulmin’s introduction and we need to stand still here. Though the early characters of the legend are recognisable, Gaulminsurprisingly trips when it comes to his immediate Persian source. He mentions the author “Nasralla”. This is recognisably NasrollahMonshi, the twelfth century Ghaznavid “translator” into Persian of the Arabic KD text. This cannot be Va’ez Kashefi, the author ofAnvar-e Sohayli. But, Gaulmin’s remark that this version was more famous than any other relates to the latter Anvar. It appears thatGaulmin, or perhaps it is Gaulmin’s source, conflated the mention of an author, Nasrollah Monshi, with the extreme fame of AS.

    The plot and the fog thicken when, 80 years later, in his introduction to the French translation of the Ottoman Turkish translation of AS,Galland pens a bellicose comparison with Gaulmin’s Book of Light. Like us, Galland noted the passage mentioning “Nasralla” as theauthor of the Book of Light’s source. And thus, he is able to protest that Gaulmin did not actually translate AS, but another version. In apatronising note, he adds that he will correct parts of his predecessor’s French translation. This latter remark is intriguing because,although Nasrollah Monshi’s text is the direct source for Kashefi’s Anvar, the two works cannot be mistaken one for the other!

    It appears thus that Galland had no direct knowledge either of the Monshi’s version which he describes (p xxxvii) as “prose of a verysimple and artless style, as is evident from (Gaulmin’s) French translation…” In truth, the Monshi’s text is an elaborate prosimetrumand nobody who has struggled with it would ever, in a thousand years, describe it as artless and simple prose!

    We catch out both Gaulmin and Galland: they are mistaken. From samples I have examined, Gaulmin’s source really is Kashefi’sAnvar.

    There is no mistaking Kashefi’s innovative introductory story of Humayun Fal and his vizier Khojaste Rai. It is not present in NasrollahMonshi’s KD version. Another sample examined elsewhere demonstrates that the famous KD story of the Lion and the Hare is indeeda translation of Kashefi’s version.

    Though he claims to be very sure of himself, Galland’s own introduction is also proposing intriguing details, which he indicates hefound in Ali Shir Nava’is Life of Persian Poets. For example, Galland attributes only the two first chapters (Lion and Bull and Dimna’sTrial) to the putative original Sanskrit author and the rest of the book to a string of Arabic and Persian authors. This is very oddindeed! As neither the Sanskrit Pancatantra (commonly considered as the best reflection of the putative lost Sanskrit original), northe Old Syriac version (commonly accepted as a direct translation from the putative lost Pahlavi translation) contain the chapter ofDimna’s Trial, it is usually accepted that this latter in an inclusion due to the pen of the 8th -century translator of the Pahlavi into Arabic,Ibn al- Muqaffa’ himself.

    Galland’s argument is the title of the book; it relates to the two jackals Dimna and Kalila, which appears in these two first chapters only.He also stumbles when, although he has just demonstrated that the two first chapters are Indian in origin, he suggests Arabic rootsand meaning for the names Dimna (hating with the desire to take revenge) and Kalila (crowning). Nowadays, these names arerelated to Sanskrit terms, thus seeming to confirm an Indian origin.

    Remarkably, in his adoption of elements from the work of the Timurid administrator and poet ‘Ali Sher Nava’i, Galland echoes theongoing discussions, which, by the 15th century had become both involved and sophisticated, around the origins of the KD. Thedoubts are already mentioned in the 8th century Ibn al Nadim.

    He also emphasises how two centuries later, the Humayun Nama is considered the grandest and best Ottoman Turkish literary work inexistence, thus carrying over on the translation, the reputation of its source, the Timurid Anvar.

    Some further remarks:

    Both Gaulmin and Galland emphasise the numerous translations of KD. Gaulmin compares this with the case of the Bible – Gallandfocusses on the versions made in Europe.

    These details are evidently signs of the book enjoying very high regard and both translators note how useful the contents are as advicefor princes, but also, Galland specifies, for people in many other positions.

    The two translators cater to their target audience, remarking that teaching with examples is similar to that of Jesus to his apostles.The use of speaking animals is comparable to “speaking nature” in Hebrew texts, in Indian texts. Teaching through parables, is alsodue to the despotism of oriental monarchies: give advice to the kings in the voice of speaking animals. A fox or a wolf can voice advicethat no courageous counsellor would dare express in the face of their oriental prince, who is always terrifying. Not only politics, butalso the highest philosophical and theological conundrums are explained in conversations amongst animals.

    In the body of the text, both authors protest that they remain close to their originals, but in practice they do leave out and introducedetails and are much sparser than Kashefi. They also are at pains to elaborate on the duties of monarchs, emphasising thatmonarchy is a God-given God-driven task as was the understanding of French monarchy.

    Stylistically, they have done away with the precious body of embedded quotations and Arabic and Persian verses. Both Persian textsthat are mentioned by our French authors can be described as a bi- lingual prosimetrum: prose texts contain numerous inclusions ofArabic – often religious citations – and Persian verses.

    These inclusions are the space for each rewriter to express his understanding of these “open” KD stories. They are a way to subtlylead the reader’s comprehension in a specific direction. The various Persian rewriters’ authorial agency is evident in their treatment ofthe prosimetric inclusions: Kashefi for example drastically scraps his predecessor’s verses, discarding the Arabic citations. His ownchoice of “persianised” citations are witty and suggest new, sometimes unexpected interpretations of the stories.

    This is as far as I can go today. I have been able to give you a brief overview only of the prefaces and authorial introductions, showinghow the younger author is critical of Gaulmin’s work and highlighting the mysterious blur around Gaulmin’s source.

    I have also touched upon the fact that these French works based on Kashefi’s Anvar will resonate in early modern Western Europe,further disseminating Anvar which successfully replaces the medieval European and Persian KD versions. In the 19th and 29thcenturies, Anvar will be thoroughly and violently criticised in the most unfair literary assassination in Persian history. … but that isanother story which I have published in the not too distant past.

    Note


     

    1. The background to the Anvar-e Sohayli and discussions of other medieval Arabo-Persian versions of the Book of Kalila and Dimna are based onChristine van Ruymbeke, Rewriting Kalila and Dimna in Timurid Herat. Kashefi’s Anvar-e Sohayli, Leiden: Brill, 2016.
    Cite this passage

    Kalila and Dimna fables, their audience and translations in pre-modern France

    This presentation is very much work in progress still.1 It represents just a tiny wedge in what at first appeared as a side issue to myresearch on Anvar-e Sohayli and which is increasingly becoming a fascinating topic for research on its own merits.

    There is no end to our study of the Book of Kalila and Demna (henceforth, KD) which present truly exceptional case-studies for a wholearray of literary research topics and in particular, of course, translation studies.

    What I highlight today is the introduction of the KD fables to pre- or early-modern 17th and 18th France, a moment when Frenchcourtly culture and thought were reaching dazzling summits.

    I view such ascending cultural moments as the result of typically, a specific culture welcoming irrigation by more mature externalinfluences that have already reached their golden age.

    Younger cultures integrate and develop their borrowings and will in turn become the source for yet newer developing culturaltraditions. In 17th -century France, Safavid Persia, Ottoman Turkey and even China are all the rage. Their visual arts and their literarytreasures feed the imagination and pollinate within French literature, theatre, music.

    KD is part of this interest, it is welcomed in France, rediscovered in fact, as the French or Latin medieval versions of the book werelong forgotten. The fables, in their remarkable Timurid version, the Anvar-e Sohayli, fascinate French intelligentsia.

    Anvar-e Sohayli is the late fifteenth-century Persian Timurid rewriting of the Kalila and Dimna fables, composed by Va’ez Kashefi, afamous author at the time, a great preacher and member of the close group of courtiers and intellectuals around ‘Ali Sher Nava’i and theruler himself, Sultan Husayn Bayqara.

    Kashefi creates one of the most memorable versions of the KD. Let us remember that this collection of fables is meant to function as agrim and very effective Mirror for Princes. Not about how to rule the people or how to administer the army or the finances, but how tostay alive at the to, surrounded by sharks in this triangle of constantly shifting power between the courtiers and nobles, the vizier andthe ruler.

    Kashefi’s Anvar-e Sohayli is a rewriting. The Timurid author engages – and is very upfront about it, with an older, twelfth-century,Persian translation of the KD fables, by the Ghaznavid writer Nasrollah Monshi. This latter work presents itself as a direct translation ofthe famous 8th-century Arabic Abbasid mother version of the KD text, composed by Ibn al-Moqaffa’.

    Kashefi’s AS is also the source of other versions, it functions as the mother version of the 1588 C.E. ‘Eyar-e Danesh: an abbreviatedversion written in Persian by Abu’l-Fazl for the Moghul Akbar. AS is also translated into Ottoman Turkish by Ali Chelebi ben Saleh,who calls his work the Homayun Nama and dedicates it to Sultan Soleiman (?around 1540?).

    Today’s brief presentation focuses on the 1644 Livre des Lumières ou la conduite des Roys composé par le Sage Pilpay. Thistranslation of the four first chapters of AS is done in French and presented at the Court of the young Louis XIV.

    Through the Livre des Lumieres, AS is also the source for the 1678 second volume of Fables by Jean de la Fontaine. The poetidentifies Pilpay as the inspiration for several of his fables. Though he keeps the situations found in AS, he mostly effects a thoroughshift to lighter, more amusing thoughts and points, moving away from the original’s deep grimness.

    And through the Ottoman Homayun Nama, AS is also the source for the competitor French translation published 80 years later in1724. Contes et Fables Indiennes is a translation done by Antoine Galland (completed by Cardonne) and proposed to the court ofLouis the XV, though no specific patron is named in the Introduction. Antoine Galland, for memory, is the extremely successfulauthor/translator of the Arabian Nights or 1001 Nights (published from 1704 to 1717). He was appointed French ambassador in Istanbul(at the court of Mehmet IV) between 1670 and 1675, during which time he learned Ottoman Turkish, Persian and Arabic. He returnedtwice to Turkey: in 1678 and again from 1679 to 1688. He collected manuscripts and art and became “Antiquaire” to the French king.

    Back to the Livre des Lumières. This work is key in disseminating the Anvar-e Sohayli in England. It was translated by Joseph Harris intoEnglish in 1698 as The instructive and Entertaining Fables of Bidpai. A good seven decades letter, Anvar is then hailed as a masterpieceby Sir William Jones in his 1771 A Grammar of the Persian Language. It is unclear which of the French 1644, 1724 or the English 1698versions might have influenced Jones.

    So, what do we know about this work? In 1644, an interesting new work hits the French literary market. It is titled: Livre des Lumières oula Conduite des Roys. Composé par le Sage Pilpay, Indien. Traduit en Francais par David Sahid a Ispahan, Capitale de la Perse (Bookof Lights or the Manner of Kings. Composed by the Sage Pilpay, the Indian. Translated in French by David, Seyed in Esfahan, capital cityof Persia). And it is printed in Paris, with special royal privilege.

    The existing research about this work does not flag any issue. But, as I started to dig, I did vaguely anticipate that, in true KD fashion,problems would arise… and I was right!

    In the 1644 print, which I have used on the Bibliothèque Nationale website, we find no mention of other authors, beside the Indian Sageidentified as the original author, and this David Sahid from Isfahan, the translator into French. Nevertheless, this work is usuallyattributed – on what grounds? – to a famous seventeenth-century French orientalist, Gilbert Gaulmin. Meanwhile, the identity ofDavid, Sahid (which I understand as Seyed, lord, noble) of Esfahan, remains cloaked in mystery. Too quickly to my mind, thismysterious David is sometimes identified with a student from Lebanon who was employed by Gaulmin, referred to as Hazard orHazaid. I see no reason to assume that this would be the same person as David Sahid.

    So far, I have not been able to shed any light on this mystery, but I am far from having exhausted all avenues of research. But it isperhaps no mere coincidence that, even in this early modern French environment, the famous KD game about identifyingmysterious authors is continued even in this early-modern French environment.

    Gaulmin is well-documented as a 17th century lawyer and high administrator, member of the seraglio around great French ministers,Cardinal de Richelieu, Cardinal Mazarin and Chancelier Seguier.

    Gaulmin eventually reached the position of Conseiller d’Etat (State Minister?). He was also a remarkable linguist with Latin, Greek,Slavonic, Hebrew, Arabic, Turkish, Persian, Armenian under his belt.

    He also shares with other KD authors, the dubious privilege of having spent time in jail – the Bastille in his case – it is unclear whetherthis was because he was developing unusual theological theories, or because he was a libertine, or perhaps both reasons playedtheir part in his imprisonment.

    As with all the authors/translators of KD, we are dealing here with someone very high in the State curriculum. In 1644, he hasalready climbed several echelons on the ladder and seems also to have been building a nice fortune, possessing a magnificentoriental library, which the Queen Christine of Sweden attempted to buy from him. The books eventually found their way back toFrance and found a home in the collections of the Bibliothèque Royale, later Impériale, now Nationale.

    Also as several others in the long line of KD predecessors, Gaulmin is asked to produce his KD version by one of the highest person atcourt.

    His Book of Lights is dedicated to Chancelier Seguier (d. 1672), Chancellor of France, the most powerful man after the King, whoseems to have tasked him with translating important oriental books of political wisdom.

    Gaulmin described the Anvar, as noted in the Prefatory address to the Chancellor, as the most highly esteemed work in the Levant, bothfor its contents which deal with the actions of Kings, and for its author, minister of a powerful monarchy.

    Next, he gives his French 17th-c readers some necessary background on the book. These details take over the usual early legendaround the arrival of the work in Persia. The original author, Pilpay, was the powerful minister of the king of Hindustan and he decidedto condense all his political wisdom in this book to teach all kings, the true and just ways to rule over their people.

    Gaulmin examines the possible reasons for expressing his purpose in the medium of stories (parables). At first blush, his explanationseems superficial. He used (animal) parables because “these stick better in the mind”. Or else, says Gaulmin, his purpose wasprobably “to shame people for having ignored so far what the animals in the stories practise in their lives”. Next, Gaulmin echoes the well-known episode of KD’s twosuccessive literary thefts: King Dabshalim kept this book and passed it on to his descendants until king Nushirvan (Nouchireuo) ofPersia heard about the book and sent his Doctor to India to acquire one copy at any price. The Doctor did this and translated it intoPahlavi, the ancient language of the Persians. After several negative mentions about the Arab conquest, Gaulmin continues:eventually the translation of this book was ordered by the Abbasid Almansur. This was done by Abulhassan Abdallah. This was thentranslated into Persian by Nasralla ben Muhammad ben Abdelhamid. This version became more famous than all the others, and thisis the source for the current translation.

    Thus for Gaulmin’s introduction and we need to stand still here. Though the early characters of the legend are recognisable, Gaulminsurprisingly trips when it comes to his immediate Persian source. He mentions the author “Nasralla”. This is recognisably NasrollahMonshi, the twelfth century Ghaznavid “translator” into Persian of the Arabic KD text. This cannot be Va’ez Kashefi, the author ofAnvar-e Sohayli. But, Gaulmin’s remark that this version was more famous than any other relates to the latter Anvar. It appears thatGaulmin, or perhaps it is Gaulmin’s source, conflated the mention of an author, Nasrollah Monshi, with the extreme fame of AS.

    The plot and the fog thicken when, 80 years later, in his introduction to the French translation of the Ottoman Turkish translation of AS,Galland pens a bellicose comparison with Gaulmin’s Book of Light. Like us, Galland noted the passage mentioning “Nasralla” as theauthor of the Book of Light’s source. And thus, he is able to protest that Gaulmin did not actually translate AS, but another version. In apatronising note, he adds that he will correct parts of his predecessor’s French translation. This latter remark is intriguing because,although Nasrollah Monshi’s text is the direct source for Kashefi’s Anvar, the two works cannot be mistaken one for the other!

    It appears thus that Galland had no direct knowledge either of the Monshi’s version which he describes (p xxxvii) as “prose of a verysimple and artless style, as is evident from (Gaulmin’s) French translation…” In truth, the Monshi’s text is an elaborate prosimetrumand nobody who has struggled with it would ever, in a thousand years, describe it as artless and simple prose!

    We catch out both Gaulmin and Galland: they are mistaken. From samples I have examined, Gaulmin’s source really is Kashefi’sAnvar.

    There is no mistaking Kashefi’s innovative introductory story of Humayun Fal and his vizier Khojaste Rai. It is not present in NasrollahMonshi’s KD version. Another sample examined elsewhere demonstrates that the famous KD story of the Lion and the Hare is indeeda translation of Kashefi’s version.

    Though he claims to be very sure of himself, Galland’s own introduction is also proposing intriguing details, which he indicates hefound in Ali Shir Nava’is Life of Persian Poets. For example, Galland attributes only the two first chapters (Lion and Bull and Dimna’sTrial) to the putative original Sanskrit author and the rest of the book to a string of Arabic and Persian authors. This is very oddindeed! As neither the Sanskrit Pancatantra (commonly considered as the best reflection of the putative lost Sanskrit original), northe Old Syriac version (commonly accepted as a direct translation from the putative lost Pahlavi translation) contain the chapter ofDimna’s Trial, it is usually accepted that this latter in an inclusion due to the pen of the 8th -century translator of the Pahlavi into Arabic,Ibn al- Muqaffa’ himself.

    Galland’s argument is the title of the book; it relates to the two jackals Dimna and Kalila, which appears in these two first chapters only.He also stumbles when, although he has just demonstrated that the two first chapters are Indian in origin, he suggests Arabic rootsand meaning for the names Dimna (hating with the desire to take revenge) and Kalila (crowning). Nowadays, these names arerelated to Sanskrit terms, thus seeming to confirm an Indian origin.

    Remarkably, in his adoption of elements from the work of the Timurid administrator and poet ‘Ali Sher Nava’i, Galland echoes theongoing discussions, which, by the 15th century had become both involved and sophisticated, around the origins of the KD. Thedoubts are already mentioned in the 8th century Ibn al Nadim.

    He also emphasises how two centuries later, the Humayun Nama is considered the grandest and best Ottoman Turkish literary work inexistence, thus carrying over on the translation, the reputation of its source, the Timurid Anvar.

    Some further remarks:

    Both Gaulmin and Galland emphasise the numerous translations of KD. Gaulmin compares this with the case of the Bible – Gallandfocusses on the versions made in Europe.

    These details are evidently signs of the book enjoying very high regard and both translators note how useful the contents are as advicefor princes, but also, Galland specifies, for people in many other positions.

    The two translators cater to their target audience, remarking that teaching with examples is similar to that of Jesus to his apostles.The use of speaking animals is comparable to “speaking nature” in Hebrew texts, in Indian texts. Teaching through parables, is alsodue to the despotism of oriental monarchies: give advice to the kings in the voice of speaking animals. A fox or a wolf can voice advicethat no courageous counsellor would dare express in the face of their oriental prince, who is always terrifying. Not only politics, butalso the highest philosophical and theological conundrums are explained in conversations amongst animals.

    In the body of the text, both authors protest that they remain close to their originals, but in practice they do leave out and introducedetails and are much sparser than Kashefi. They also are at pains to elaborate on the duties of monarchs, emphasising thatmonarchy is a God-given God-driven task as was the understanding of French monarchy.

    Stylistically, they have done away with the precious body of embedded quotations and Arabic and Persian verses. Both Persian textsthat are mentioned by our French authors can be described as a bi- lingual prosimetrum: prose texts contain numerous inclusions ofArabic – often religious citations – and Persian verses.

    These inclusions are the space for each rewriter to express his understanding of these “open” KD stories. They are a way to subtlylead the reader’s comprehension in a specific direction. The various Persian rewriters’ authorial agency is evident in their treatment ofthe prosimetric inclusions: Kashefi for example drastically scraps his predecessor’s verses, discarding the Arabic citations. His ownchoice of “persianised” citations are witty and suggest new, sometimes unexpected interpretations of the stories.

    This is as far as I can go today. I have been able to give you a brief overview only of the prefaces and authorial introductions, showinghow the younger author is critical of Gaulmin’s work and highlighting the mysterious blur around Gaulmin’s source.

    I have also touched upon the fact that these French works based on Kashefi’s Anvar will resonate in early modern Western Europe,further disseminating Anvar which successfully replaces the medieval European and Persian KD versions. In the 19th and 29thcenturies, Anvar will be thoroughly and violently criticised in the most unfair literary assassination in Persian history. … but that isanother story which I have published in the not too distant past.

    Note


     

    1. The background to the Anvar-e Sohayli and discussions of other medieval Arabo-Persian versions of the Book of Kalila and Dimna are based onChristine van Ruymbeke, Rewriting Kalila and Dimna in Timurid Herat. Kashefi’s Anvar-e Sohayli, Leiden: Brill, 2016.

    Kalila and Dimna fables, their audience and translations in pre-modern France

    Kalila and Dimna fables, their audience and translations in pre-modern France

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    AboutPremodern Fables Compared

    Kalila and Dimna fables, their audience and translations in pre-modern France

    This presentation is very much work in progress still.1 It represents just a tiny wedge in what at first appeared as a side issue to myresearch on Anvar-e Sohayli and which is increasingly becoming a fascinating topic for research on its own merits.

    There is no end to our study of the Book of Kalila and Demna (henceforth, KD) which present truly exceptional case-studies for a wholearray of literary research topics and in particular, of course, translation studies.

    What I highlight today is the introduction of the KD fables to pre- or early-modern 17th and 18th France, a moment when Frenchcourtly culture and thought were reaching dazzling summits.

    I view such ascending cultural moments as the result of typically, a specific culture welcoming irrigation by more mature externalinfluences that have already reached their golden age.

    Younger cultures integrate and develop their borrowings and will in turn become the source for yet newer developing culturaltraditions. In 17th -century France, Safavid Persia, Ottoman Turkey and even China are all the rage. Their visual arts and their literarytreasures feed the imagination and pollinate within French literature, theatre, music.

    KD is part of this interest, it is welcomed in France, rediscovered in fact, as the French or Latin medieval versions of the book werelong forgotten. The fables, in their remarkable Timurid version, the Anvar-e Sohayli, fascinate French intelligentsia.

    Anvar-e Sohayli is the late fifteenth-century Persian Timurid rewriting of the Kalila and Dimna fables, composed by Va’ez Kashefi, afamous author at the time, a great preacher and member of the close group of courtiers and intellectuals around ‘Ali Sher Nava’i and theruler himself, Sultan Husayn Bayqara.

    Kashefi creates one of the most memorable versions of the KD. Let us remember that this collection of fables is meant to function as agrim and very effective Mirror for Princes. Not about how to rule the people or how to administer the army or the finances, but how tostay alive at the to, surrounded by sharks in this triangle of constantly shifting power between the courtiers and nobles, the vizier andthe ruler.

    Kashefi’s Anvar-e Sohayli is a rewriting. The Timurid author engages – and is very upfront about it, with an older, twelfth-century,Persian translation of the KD fables, by the Ghaznavid writer Nasrollah Monshi. This latter work presents itself as a direct translation ofthe famous 8th-century Arabic Abbasid mother version of the KD text, composed by Ibn al-Moqaffa’.

    Kashefi’s AS is also the source of other versions, it functions as the mother version of the 1588 C.E. ‘Eyar-e Danesh: an abbreviatedversion written in Persian by Abu’l-Fazl for the Moghul Akbar. AS is also translated into Ottoman Turkish by Ali Chelebi ben Saleh,who calls his work the Homayun Nama and dedicates it to Sultan Soleiman (?around 1540?).

    Today’s brief presentation focuses on the 1644 Livre des Lumières ou la conduite des Roys composé par le Sage Pilpay. Thistranslation of the four first chapters of AS is done in French and presented at the Court of the young Louis XIV.

    Through the Livre des Lumieres, AS is also the source for the 1678 second volume of Fables by Jean de la Fontaine. The poetidentifies Pilpay as the inspiration for several of his fables. Though he keeps the situations found in AS, he mostly effects a thoroughshift to lighter, more amusing thoughts and points, moving away from the original’s deep grimness.

    And through the Ottoman Homayun Nama, AS is also the source for the competitor French translation published 80 years later in1724. Contes et Fables Indiennes is a translation done by Antoine Galland (completed by Cardonne) and proposed to the court ofLouis the XV, though no specific patron is named in the Introduction. Antoine Galland, for memory, is the extremely successfulauthor/translator of the Arabian Nights or 1001 Nights (published from 1704 to 1717). He was appointed French ambassador in Istanbul(at the court of Mehmet IV) between 1670 and 1675, during which time he learned Ottoman Turkish, Persian and Arabic. He returnedtwice to Turkey: in 1678 and again from 1679 to 1688. He collected manuscripts and art and became “Antiquaire” to the French king.

    Back to the Livre des Lumières. This work is key in disseminating the Anvar-e Sohayli in England. It was translated by Joseph Harris intoEnglish in 1698 as The instructive and Entertaining Fables of Bidpai. A good seven decades letter, Anvar is then hailed as a masterpieceby Sir William Jones in his 1771 A Grammar of the Persian Language. It is unclear which of the French 1644, 1724 or the English 1698versions might have influenced Jones.

    So, what do we know about this work? In 1644, an interesting new work hits the French literary market. It is titled: Livre des Lumières oula Conduite des Roys. Composé par le Sage Pilpay, Indien. Traduit en Francais par David Sahid a Ispahan, Capitale de la Perse (Bookof Lights or the Manner of Kings. Composed by the Sage Pilpay, the Indian. Translated in French by David, Seyed in Esfahan, capital cityof Persia). And it is printed in Paris, with special royal privilege.

    The existing research about this work does not flag any issue. But, as I started to dig, I did vaguely anticipate that, in true KD fashion,problems would arise… and I was right!

    In the 1644 print, which I have used on the Bibliothèque Nationale website, we find no mention of other authors, beside the Indian Sageidentified as the original author, and this David Sahid from Isfahan, the translator into French. Nevertheless, this work is usuallyattributed – on what grounds? – to a famous seventeenth-century French orientalist, Gilbert Gaulmin. Meanwhile, the identity ofDavid, Sahid (which I understand as Seyed, lord, noble) of Esfahan, remains cloaked in mystery. Too quickly to my mind, thismysterious David is sometimes identified with a student from Lebanon who was employed by Gaulmin, referred to as Hazard orHazaid. I see no reason to assume that this would be the same person as David Sahid.

    So far, I have not been able to shed any light on this mystery, but I am far from having exhausted all avenues of research. But it isperhaps no mere coincidence that, even in this early modern French environment, the famous KD game about identifyingmysterious authors is continued even in this early-modern French environment.

    Gaulmin is well-documented as a 17th century lawyer and high administrator, member of the seraglio around great French ministers,Cardinal de Richelieu, Cardinal Mazarin and Chancelier Seguier.

    Gaulmin eventually reached the position of Conseiller d’Etat (State Minister?). He was also a remarkable linguist with Latin, Greek,Slavonic, Hebrew, Arabic, Turkish, Persian, Armenian under his belt.

    He also shares with other KD authors, the dubious privilege of having spent time in jail – the Bastille in his case – it is unclear whetherthis was because he was developing unusual theological theories, or because he was a libertine, or perhaps both reasons playedtheir part in his imprisonment.

    As with all the authors/translators of KD, we are dealing here with someone very high in the State curriculum. In 1644, he hasalready climbed several echelons on the ladder and seems also to have been building a nice fortune, possessing a magnificentoriental library, which the Queen Christine of Sweden attempted to buy from him. The books eventually found their way back toFrance and found a home in the collections of the Bibliothèque Royale, later Impériale, now Nationale.

    Also as several others in the long line of KD predecessors, Gaulmin is asked to produce his KD version by one of the highest person atcourt.

    His Book of Lights is dedicated to Chancelier Seguier (d. 1672), Chancellor of France, the most powerful man after the King, whoseems to have tasked him with translating important oriental books of political wisdom.

    Gaulmin described the Anvar, as noted in the Prefatory address to the Chancellor, as the most highly esteemed work in the Levant, bothfor its contents which deal with the actions of Kings, and for its author, minister of a powerful monarchy.

    Next, he gives his French 17th-c readers some necessary background on the book. These details take over the usual early legendaround the arrival of the work in Persia. The original author, Pilpay, was the powerful minister of the king of Hindustan and he decidedto condense all his political wisdom in this book to teach all kings, the true and just ways to rule over their people.

    Gaulmin examines the possible reasons for expressing his purpose in the medium of stories (parables). At first blush, his explanationseems superficial. He used (animal) parables because “these stick better in the mind”. Or else, says Gaulmin, his purpose wasprobably “to shame people for having ignored so far what the animals in the stories practise in their lives”. Next, Gaulmin echoes the well-known episode of KD’s twosuccessive literary thefts: King Dabshalim kept this book and passed it on to his descendants until king Nushirvan (Nouchireuo) ofPersia heard about the book and sent his Doctor to India to acquire one copy at any price. The Doctor did this and translated it intoPahlavi, the ancient language of the Persians. After several negative mentions about the Arab conquest, Gaulmin continues:eventually the translation of this book was ordered by the Abbasid Almansur. This was done by Abulhassan Abdallah. This was thentranslated into Persian by Nasralla ben Muhammad ben Abdelhamid. This version became more famous than all the others, and thisis the source for the current translation.

    Thus for Gaulmin’s introduction and we need to stand still here. Though the early characters of the legend are recognisable, Gaulminsurprisingly trips when it comes to his immediate Persian source. He mentions the author “Nasralla”. This is recognisably NasrollahMonshi, the twelfth century Ghaznavid “translator” into Persian of the Arabic KD text. This cannot be Va’ez Kashefi, the author ofAnvar-e Sohayli. But, Gaulmin’s remark that this version was more famous than any other relates to the latter Anvar. It appears thatGaulmin, or perhaps it is Gaulmin’s source, conflated the mention of an author, Nasrollah Monshi, with the extreme fame of AS.

    The plot and the fog thicken when, 80 years later, in his introduction to the French translation of the Ottoman Turkish translation of AS,Galland pens a bellicose comparison with Gaulmin’s Book of Light. Like us, Galland noted the passage mentioning “Nasralla” as theauthor of the Book of Light’s source. And thus, he is able to protest that Gaulmin did not actually translate AS, but another version. In apatronising note, he adds that he will correct parts of his predecessor’s French translation. This latter remark is intriguing because,although Nasrollah Monshi’s text is the direct source for Kashefi’s Anvar, the two works cannot be mistaken one for the other!

    It appears thus that Galland had no direct knowledge either of the Monshi’s version which he describes (p xxxvii) as “prose of a verysimple and artless style, as is evident from (Gaulmin’s) French translation…” In truth, the Monshi’s text is an elaborate prosimetrumand nobody who has struggled with it would ever, in a thousand years, describe it as artless and simple prose!

    We catch out both Gaulmin and Galland: they are mistaken. From samples I have examined, Gaulmin’s source really is Kashefi’sAnvar.

    There is no mistaking Kashefi’s innovative introductory story of Humayun Fal and his vizier Khojaste Rai. It is not present in NasrollahMonshi’s KD version. Another sample examined elsewhere demonstrates that the famous KD story of the Lion and the Hare is indeeda translation of Kashefi’s version.

    Though he claims to be very sure of himself, Galland’s own introduction is also proposing intriguing details, which he indicates hefound in Ali Shir Nava’is Life of Persian Poets. For example, Galland attributes only the two first chapters (Lion and Bull and Dimna’sTrial) to the putative original Sanskrit author and the rest of the book to a string of Arabic and Persian authors. This is very oddindeed! As neither the Sanskrit Pancatantra (commonly considered as the best reflection of the putative lost Sanskrit original), northe Old Syriac version (commonly accepted as a direct translation from the putative lost Pahlavi translation) contain the chapter ofDimna’s Trial, it is usually accepted that this latter in an inclusion due to the pen of the 8th -century translator of the Pahlavi into Arabic,Ibn al- Muqaffa’ himself.

    Galland’s argument is the title of the book; it relates to the two jackals Dimna and Kalila, which appears in these two first chapters only.He also stumbles when, although he has just demonstrated that the two first chapters are Indian in origin, he suggests Arabic rootsand meaning for the names Dimna (hating with the desire to take revenge) and Kalila (crowning). Nowadays, these names arerelated to Sanskrit terms, thus seeming to confirm an Indian origin.

    Remarkably, in his adoption of elements from the work of the Timurid administrator and poet ‘Ali Sher Nava’i, Galland echoes theongoing discussions, which, by the 15th century had become both involved and sophisticated, around the origins of the KD. Thedoubts are already mentioned in the 8th century Ibn al Nadim.

    He also emphasises how two centuries later, the Humayun Nama is considered the grandest and best Ottoman Turkish literary work inexistence, thus carrying over on the translation, the reputation of its source, the Timurid Anvar.

    Some further remarks:

    Both Gaulmin and Galland emphasise the numerous translations of KD. Gaulmin compares this with the case of the Bible – Gallandfocusses on the versions made in Europe.

    These details are evidently signs of the book enjoying very high regard and both translators note how useful the contents are as advicefor princes, but also, Galland specifies, for people in many other positions.

    The two translators cater to their target audience, remarking that teaching with examples is similar to that of Jesus to his apostles.The use of speaking animals is comparable to “speaking nature” in Hebrew texts, in Indian texts. Teaching through parables, is alsodue to the despotism of oriental monarchies: give advice to the kings in the voice of speaking animals. A fox or a wolf can voice advicethat no courageous counsellor would dare express in the face of their oriental prince, who is always terrifying. Not only politics, butalso the highest philosophical and theological conundrums are explained in conversations amongst animals.

    In the body of the text, both authors protest that they remain close to their originals, but in practice they do leave out and introducedetails and are much sparser than Kashefi. They also are at pains to elaborate on the duties of monarchs, emphasising thatmonarchy is a God-given God-driven task as was the understanding of French monarchy.

    Stylistically, they have done away with the precious body of embedded quotations and Arabic and Persian verses. Both Persian textsthat are mentioned by our French authors can be described as a bi- lingual prosimetrum: prose texts contain numerous inclusions ofArabic – often religious citations – and Persian verses.

    These inclusions are the space for each rewriter to express his understanding of these “open” KD stories. They are a way to subtlylead the reader’s comprehension in a specific direction. The various Persian rewriters’ authorial agency is evident in their treatment ofthe prosimetric inclusions: Kashefi for example drastically scraps his predecessor’s verses, discarding the Arabic citations. His ownchoice of “persianised” citations are witty and suggest new, sometimes unexpected interpretations of the stories.

    This is as far as I can go today. I have been able to give you a brief overview only of the prefaces and authorial introductions, showinghow the younger author is critical of Gaulmin’s work and highlighting the mysterious blur around Gaulmin’s source.

    I have also touched upon the fact that these French works based on Kashefi’s Anvar will resonate in early modern Western Europe,further disseminating Anvar which successfully replaces the medieval European and Persian KD versions. In the 19th and 29thcenturies, Anvar will be thoroughly and violently criticised in the most unfair literary assassination in Persian history. … but that isanother story which I have published in the not too distant past.

    Note


     

    1. The background to the Anvar-e Sohayli and discussions of other medieval Arabo-Persian versions of the Book of Kalila and Dimna are based onChristine van Ruymbeke, Rewriting Kalila and Dimna in Timurid Herat. Kashefi’s Anvar-e Sohayli, Leiden: Brill, 2016.