Showing posts with label Persia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Persia. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Mr. Bunting in Paradise

by Alastair Johnston

Bunting's Persia. Translations by Basil Bunting. Edited by Don Share. Flood Editions, 2012.



Ask your distant cousins out there in Middle America what they fear most and they will tell you "Muslims." Ask them to explain the difference between Muslims and, say, Mormons, and they will hesitate, but you, dear enlightened reader of Booktryst, will know the answer, won't you? Within Islam there are sects that are as different as Unitarians and Anglicans or Copts and Catholics.

A Muslim sect that has a broad appeal in the West is Sufism. Sufis are poets and philosophers: Hell, some are even into the odd alcoholic beverage. Nevertheless it may come as a surprise that the best-selling poet in America today, with over a quarter of a million copies in print, is a Persian Sufi poet named Rumi.

The truth is, the Sufis are fun and very easy to love. As Manuchehri says,

   We, men of wine are we, meat are we, music...
   Well, then! Wine we have, meat we have, music...

Bunting's Persia is a delight for a number of reasons. Not least the wonderful Sufi poetry it contains, but also because it is another volume by an under-appreciated poet of the twentieth century, Basil Bunting (1900-85), whose Collected Poems (Fulcrum, 1965, reprinted by Oxford University Press in 1978) is anorexically thin. Bunting didn't write a lot, in fact he took a 15-year break from writing, working as the financial editor of a newspaper until a young poet, Tom Pickard, tracked him down and persuaded him to get back to verse. The result was Briggflatts (1966) which Cyril Connolly (writing in the London Times) hailed as the best poetry book since Eliot's Four Quartets.

Bunting in Rapallo, 1930

Like Eliot, Bunting was under the Modernist influence of Ezra Pound and hung out with him and W.B. Yeats in Rapallo in the 1930s. He had known Shaw and Lawrence in London; in Paris he worked with Ford Madox Ford and got drunk with Hemingway. His first book was published in Milan in 1930, his second in Galveston in 1950.

But what's the Persian link? Bunting found a ratty copy of Ferdowsi's Shahnameh translated into French and decided (with Pound's urging) he needed to read the original, so with the help of a dictionary he taught himself classical Farsi. This came in handy when World War II broke out. Bunting had spent the First World War in jail in England as a Conscientious Objector (he was a Quaker), and decided this time around to enlist in the Royal Air Force. As an interpreter (despite the lack of similarity between classical and modern Persian) he was sent to Isfahan. After the war he became Vice Consul in the British Embassy.

He married a Persian girl and became foreign correspondent for the Times of London. He absorbed the culture through his pores and told anecdotes like the one about three men who went out of the city on Friday night to enjoy themselves in their own ways. When they returned the gates were locked. The drunkard said, "Let's batter down the door!" The man who smoked hashish said, "No, let's crawl through the keyhole," but the man who smoked opium said, "No, let's lie down here 'til daybreak."

He continued (in this interview printed in a little magazine in the 1960s) by telling the story of the time he and a couple of friends — one of them happened to be the Head of the Persian Secret Police, unaware that Bunting was actually a British spy masquerading as a reporter — were smoking opium round the stove in his living-room when the stove went out. Now in Persia the usual way to light a stove is to pour paraffin over it and light the paraffin. But the coals were still hot, and so when paraffin was added the stove exploded. Bits of the stove flew across the room, almost decapitating his friend, and the drapes caught fire. The friends sat there laughing hysterically as the servants rushed in and put the flames out.

This life in Paradise ended when he was expelled by Mossadeq. An angry mob arrived at his house to get him. No one noticed when he snuck out the back way and chanted "Death to Mr Bunting" with them.

Bunting's Collected Poems is a scant 150 pages long so a new book from his hand is a delight to be savored and dipped into like a box of fresh dates.

A couple of the pieces did appear in the Collected (as the wittily named "Overdrafts"), but here they are handsomely presented (the Fulcrum book is particularly ungainly) and, besides, it's important to gather all the fragments of Bunting's Persian together as someone else might gather his Latin translations, if more turn up. Though Bunting's archive is at the  University of Durham, England, these pieces ended up in Texas. While few Americans are qualified to comment on Persian poetry in translation, there is enough understanding of the tradition to know whether these versions are valid. So what is Mr Bunting's message from beyond? Youth is fleeting, life is short, seize the day:

"Many a broken desert has been gay garden," says Rudaki. And, from the same poet,

   What can you know, my blackhaired beauty,
   what I was like in the old days?
   You tickle your lover with your curls
   but never knew the time when he had curls.

The centerpiece is a long work by Ferdowsi called "The Beginning of the Stories," and its sequel "Faridun's Sons," which is really the prelude to an epic (the work Bunting had found on the bookiniste stall that started him on this lifelong adventure), but enough of a taste to engage us. It bears a striking resemblance to King Lear: an old king divides his empire among three sons and the elder two plot against the younger. It's a bloody tale but has a pacifist message:

   Don't injure even an ant,
   it has life, life is sweet.

There is a telegraphic compression where we sense the lesson of Ez keeping Baz on track:

   A long time, Fate keeping her face veiled.
   Faridun grew old, dust drifted over the garden,
   a changed conversation, strength turned weakness by age,
   and the nobles huffed when any business was muffed.

He teases us with several short untitled poems by Manuchehri. See this lovely description of riding in the desert, away from one's loved one:

   Wind froze my blood, the pools frozen
   like silver dishes on a gold tray.

   Before morning night was blacker
   for the white snow wasting away
   and out of the hard ground rose a mud like fishglue.

The notes by Don Share fill us in on the poets, with quotes from Bunting's letters and writings: "You want the directness of some Catullus? Go to Manuchehri. You want the swiftness of Anacreon? Manuchehri.  The elaborate music of Spenser? Go to Manuchehri. ... Satire, direct and overwhelming, Manuchehri all alone — no competitor."

Sa'di pours his heart out in aching love poems, but manages to work in

   Many well-known people have been packed away in cemeteries
   there is no longer any evidence that they ever existed.

Perhaps the best-known of these poets is Hafiz (1315-90) who advises us

    If you
   want eternity do so
   they'll never use past tense of you.
   Drink as Hafiz, you'll gather impetus
   world without end.

Many have interpreted the Sufis' thirst for alcohol as an allegory of mysticism: Bunting doubts this, dismissing Robert Bly and Ralph Waldo Emerson's interpretations. Sometimes a bottle of wine is just that:

   I'm the worse for drink again, it's
   got the better of me.
   A thousand thanks to the red wine
   put colour in my face.
   I'll kiss the hand that gathered the grapes.
   May he never trudge who trod them out!

The collection ends with "The Pious Cat" a children's story by Zakani that was previously published in a limited edition by Bertram Rota (200 copies printed at the Stamperia Valdonega in Verona), in 1986.

Now that he is among the immortals, Bunting can invite us to journey back to the 11th century with him:

   Bid them come and see our noble century
   and read our poetry and despair —

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Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Edmund Dulac's Persian Pearls

By Stephen J. Gertz

Neither serpents, nor magicians, nor sickness, nor accidents can touch him who has and holds in honour a pearl born in the head of a serpent (Léonard Rosenthal, stanza 66, from Au Royaume de la Perle).
In 1919, Léonard Rosenthal (1872-1955), an internationally respected and acclaimed dealer of oriental pearls and precious stones based in Paris,  published  Au Royaume de la Perle (Paris: Payot), a 208-page 16mo volume with decorations by Claude Denis.

In 1920, Rosenthal commissioned Edmund Dulac (1882-1955) to provide illustrations for a large quarto deluxe edition. Published in Paris by H. Piazza, it was immediately translated into English and published in London by Nisbet & Co.

With Dulac's illustrations, the book was transformed into a pearl born in the head of a magnificent artist.

“His plates, truly genius, do much to bring a fanciful touch to an otherwise stark exposition on pearls” (Hughey).

Ann Hughey, who compiled the standard bibliography of books illustrated by Dulac, is a bit harsh regarding Rosenthal's text. Within the "stark exposition" lies a fascinating chapter devoted to oriental pearl legends and mythology, i.e:

The cloud pearl never reaches the earth; the gods seize it whilst it is still in the air. It is like the sun, a dazzling sphere the rays from which fill the whole of space (Stanza 67).

It eclipses the light of fire, of the moon, of the lunar constellations, of the stars and all the planets. As the sun is to the day, so is this pearl to the darkness of the night (Stanza 68).

The earth, adorned by the four seas, the waters of which glitter with the lustre of many jewels, the whole earth covered with gold, would scarcely attain to the value of this one pearl: such is my belief (Stanza 69).

He who, by reason of an act of virtue of the highest degree, becomes possessed of it, will remain without a rival in the whole world, so long as he retains it (Stanza 70).


“Edmund Dulac adapts his talents to the spirit of that which he is to render…In…The Kingdom and the Pearl he used the conventional Persian style without perspective, rich in decorative forms and jewelplike colours, bring out the beauty of minute things by the use of colour and graceful line” (The International Studio, Sept. 1926).


Dulac “at his best…fantastically Persian” (The Times).

In 1904, when Edmund Dulac, age 22, landed in London after winning prizes for his work awarded by the Ecole des Beaux Arts he hit the ground running,   was an immediate success, and was soon the most acclaimed book illustrator of his generation at a time when book illustration had entered its golden age. His only rival was Arthur Rackham.

By 1913, his romanticism-in-blue period had evolved into a vivid, highly exotic and idealized vision of the Orient, Persian art miniatures a major influence upon him. First budding in his illustrations for Stories from the Arabian Nights (1907) and Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (1909), his new orientalist style was in full flower with Princess Badura: A Tale From the Arabian Nights (1913); Sinbad the Sailor and Other Stories From the Arabian Nights (1914).

This was the elegant oriental exoticism that Rosenthal had in mind when he imagined what Au Royaume de la Perle might look like if richly illustrated. Dulac's was exactly the fantasy he saw in his head, the romance of  his beloved pearls made manifest in art, each plate a jewel.


He who, by reason of an act of virtue of the highest degree, becomes possessed of a copy of this book will remain without a rival in the whole world, so long as he retains it. Yet post it for sale on Ebay and you shall be accursed for all eternity.


A copy that recently passed through my hands had been rebound by Bayntun-Riviére in full black morocco with a royal crown centerpiece ornamented by twenty-six tiny, set-in cultured pearls. A simple strand of pearls against black remains classically elegant fashion. Women of taste who come across this copy will wonder whether to read the book or wear it.
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[DULAC, Edmund, illustrator]. ROSENTHAL, Léonard. The Kingdom of the Pearl. London: Nisbet & Co., [n.d., 1920].

Limited to 675 copies, this being copy no. 44. Large quarto (11 x 8 ¾ in; 279 x 224 mm). xii, 150, [1], [1, printer’s slug] pp. Ten tipped-in color plates.

Bound ca. 1960 by Bayntun (Riviére) in full black crushed levant morocco with single gilt fillet border enclosing a frame of rolled gilt dots with corner ornaments within which is a double-fillet panel housing a royal crown centerpiece in gilt which is set with twenty-six tiny pearls. Raised bands with gilt rolls. Compartments with gilt-ruled frames enclosing gilt ornaments. Gilt-rolled edges. Broad turn-ins with gilt-rolls. Top edge gilt. Cockerell endpapers.

Hughey 54c.
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Images courtesy of David Brass Rare Books, with our thanks.
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Of related interest:

The ABC Book of Edmund Dulac.
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Thursday, September 23, 2010

Persia's Book Of Kings Gets The Royal Treatment At Cambridge

By Nancy Mattoon

A Hero Fights A Demon.
An Image From The Shahnameh,
Or Persian Book Of Kings.

(All Images Courtesy of The Fitzwilliam Museum.)

The Shahnameh, or " Persian Book of Kings," is the national epic of the Iranian people. The longest poem ever written by a single author, this chronicle of the reigns of fifty monarchs was completed exactly 1,000 years ago by the Persian poet Ferdowsi, who dedicated his life to crafting its 60,000 verses.

Ferdowsi’s importance in Persian language and literature has been compared to that of Goethe for the Germans, of Pushkin for the Russians, or of Shakespeare for the English-speaking world. A new exhibit at the Fitzwilliam Museum at the University of Cambridge contains almost 100 illustrations from rare manuscript books spanning nearly eight centuries of this tale of myth, legend, and history.

A Hero Endures A Trial By Fire.

The exhibit, Epic of the Persian Kings: The Art of Ferdowsi's Shahnameh is the largest display of its kind ever shown in a British museum. Artworks inspired by this poem, which tells the story of Persia from the beginning of time through the Arab conquest in the 7th century, have been gathered together from the British Museum, the Bodleian Library and the Royal Collection at Windsor Castle.

Timothy Potts, Director of the Fitzwilliam Museum, says: "It is impossible to overstate the significance of Ferdowsi's Book of Kings, which remains, a millennium after its completion, one of the most popular texts of secular poetry in Southwest Asia. In its ambition, scope and spectacular range of displays, this exhibition at the Fitzwilliam is truly a landmark and for many visitors will be a revelatory introduction to the Shahnameh and its world."

A Vanquished Demon
Is Bound By The Hero.


During the thousand years since its completion, illustrated manuscripts of The Shahnameh have spread Persian culture from Egypt and Anatolia to India and Central Asia. The enormous popularity of its stories and characters, and their depiction by a wide range of artists in various media, allow the illustrated editions of The Shahnameh to become a microcosm for all of Persian art from the 12th until the 19th century.

In early manuscripts the pictures are small and simple, fitting within the larger text. But over the years they increase in size and become much more elaborate, even including the use of decorative gold, lapis lazuli, and other precious pigments. The Shahnameh texts evolved into works similar to the heavily embellished illuminated manuscripts from the monasteries of Europe.

A Miniature Painting Inspired By The Shahnameh.

Wealthy patrons commissioned manuscripts of greater and greater magnificence, each hoping to possess the most lavish edition of the epic ever created. Splendid pictures often crowded out the text, and the artistic influence of China, India, and Central Asia could be seen in the the style of the illustrations. The earliest illustrations on show at the Fitzwilliam Museum are from the 1300's, and they continued to be produced until the mid-19th century.

The tradition of hand-illustrating books in this painstaking way survived in Persia for nearly another three centuries after it ended in Europe. The Shahnameh was also the inspiration for thousands of miniature paintings, produced separately from any manuscript. These paintings were created by Persian, Arab, Turkish, Mongol, Kurdish, and Indian artists commissioned to recreate favorite scenes from the epic for the royalty and nobility.

A Court Scene From The Poem,
Highlighting Music And Dance.

Aside from artistic value, one reason The Shahnameh remains so central to Iranian literature is because it was written in Persian rather than Arabic. Ferdowsi is widely regarded as the preserver of the Persian language and of pre-Islamic Iranian culture. Of all the peoples conquered by the Arabs in the 7th century, the Persians are the only ones who can boast a major literature in the indigenous language that they were using before the conquest, according to the Cambridge exhibit.

Unlike the English language of a work such as Beowulf, the Persian of Ferdowsi's poem changed very little over the centuries. The Persian reader needs no "translation" into modern language to fully understand the poem just as its original audience did. Ferdowsi went to great lengths to avoid using any words of Arabic origin. Children in Iran still study The Shahnameh in school, and many memorize portions of it in the same way that English speakers learn to recite passages from Shakespeare.

A Dragon Devours An Unlucky Would-Be Slayer.

Charles Melville, professor of Persian history at Cambridge, tells us that Ferdowsi was a wealthy landowner who spent at least 30 years writing his epic poem. It is a huge text, twice as long as the Iliad and the Odyssey put together. It explores not only the royal history of Persia, but also goes back to the days of mythic kings, who were slayers of dragons and demons. The work contains battle scenes and other heroics, but also romance and light-hearted games of polo.

The exhibition curator, Barbara Brend, explains that there are three distinct sections of the work, "There's a legendary, mythical bit at the beginning then a middle section covering Alexander the Great. The last section deals with a real dynasty, the Sasanians." Each of the illustrations of The Shahnameh at the Fitzwilliam shows an event in the epic, whether a battle scene, the combat between a warrior and a fantastical creature, or a King courting his ladylove.

An Illustration Of A Scene From The Epic
Featuring Alexander The Great. (At Left.)

By the time Ferdowsi finally got close to finishing his work, he was beginning to run short of money. He presented his still unfinished epic to his patron, Mahmud of Ghazni, in hopes that the sultan would be pleased enough to advance him some cash. Sadly, things had changed since the work was begun: the pre-Islamic era was past, and a poem in Persian was viewed with suspicion.

Professor Melville remarks, "He wasn't a court poet, a flatterer. And it's possible that he was suspected of Zoroastrian sympathies, the pre-Islamic religion. So he wasn't accepted by the religious authorities either." Ferdowsi died in 1020, fearing his poem was a failure. Fitzwilliam Museum director Timothy Potts says Ferdowsi’s words were initially greeted with hostility, "His poem was to be a paean to a Persian past that struggled to maintain itself against Arab, Turkish and other peoples and ways of life."

A Battle Scene Between Rival Factions.

The Shahnameh went virtually underground for nearly 200 years after its completion, with only a few brief quotations and references to the work in existence. By the 13th century the epic had begun to return to favor, although copies of the text made 200 years after Ferdowsi's death undoubtedly contain both errors and "improvements." According to the Cambridge Museum, only three manuscripts are known to have survived from before the end of the 13th century: an incomplete copy of 1217, a full text of 1276 and a third, undated copy from this period. None of these is illustrated.

A Magicial Scene
Near The End Of The Persian Epic.

But the universal themes of The Shahnameh allowed it to survive through the centuries. Its tales of power and glory, ambition and failure, wisdom and folly all resonate across generations and even cultures. (The poem was translated into Arabic and Ottoman Turkish early on, and eventually into many of the world's modern languages.)

"Ferdowsi’s Shahnameh has been the wellspring of Persian culture for the past thousand years," says Timothy Potts. "Other cultures have their literary icons – Homer for the ancient Greeks, Shakespeare for the English, Dante for the Italians. But none of these exercised quite the defining influence on so many levels of culture and identity up to the present day as The Shahnameh did for the Persians."

Epic of the Persian Kings: The Art of Ferdowsi's Shahnameh exhibition at the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge will be on display through January of 2011. Highlights of the show are also available in an excellent virtual exhibit on the museum's website.
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