A Literary History of the Arabs Part 32

The sceptical and pessimistic tendencies of an age of social decay and political anarchy are unmistakably revealed in the writings of the poet, philosopher, and man of letters, Abu 'l-'Ala al-Ma'arri, who was born in 973 A.D. at Ma'arratu 'l-Nu'man, a Syrian town situated about twenty miles south of Aleppo on the caravan road to Damascus. While yet a child he had an attack of small-pox, resulting in partial and eventually in complete blindness, but this calamity, fatal as it might seem to literary ambition, was repaired if not entirely made good by his stupendous powers of memory. After being educated at home under the eye of his father, a man of some culture and a meritorious poet, he proceeded to Aleppo, which was still a flourishing centre of the humanities, though it could no longer boast such a brilliant array of poets and scholars as were attracted thither in the palmy days of Sayfu 'l-Dawla. Probably Abu 'l-'Ala did not enter upon the career of a professional encomiast, to which he seems at first to have inclined: he declares in the preface to his _Saq?u 'l-Zand_ that he never eulogised any one with the hope of gaining a reward, but only for the sake of practising his skill. On the termination of his 'Wanderjahre' he returned in 993 A.D. to Ma'arra, where he spent the next fifteen years of his life, with no income beyond a small pension of thirty dinars (which he shared with a servant), lecturing on Arabic poetry, antiquities, and philology, the subjects to which his youthful studies had been chiefly devoted. During this period his reputation was steadily increasing, and at last, to adapt what Boswell wrote of Dr. Johnson on a similar occasion, "he thought of trying his fortune in Baghdad, the great field of genius and exertion, where talents of every kind had the fullest scope and the highest encouragement." Professor Margoliouth in the Introduction to his edition of Abu 'l-'Ala's correspondence supplies many interesting particulars of the literary society at Baghdad in which the poet moved. "As in ancient Rome, so in the great Mu?ammadan cities public recitation was the mode whereby men of letters made their talents known to their contemporaries. From very early times it had been customary to employ the mosques for this purpose; and in Abu 'l-'Ala's time poems were recited in the mosque of al-Man?ur in Baghdad. Better accommodation was, however, provided by the Maecenates who took a pride in collecting savants and _litterateurs_ in their houses."[580] Such a Maecenas was the Sharif al-Ra?i, himself a celebrated poet, who founded the Academy called by his name in imitation, probably, of that founded some years before by Abu Nasr Sabur b. Ardashir, Vizier to the Buwayhid prince, Baha'u 'l-Dawla. Here Abu 'l-'Ala met a number of distinguished writers and scholars who welcomed him as one of themselves. The capital of Islam, thronged with travellers and merchants from all parts of the East, harbouring followers of every creed and sect--Christians and Jews, Buddhists and Zoroastrians, ?abians and ?ufis, Materialists and Rationalists--must have seemed to the provincial almost like a new world. It is certain that Abu 'l-'Ala, a curious observer who set no bounds to his thirst for knowledge, would make the best use of such an opportunity. The religious and philosophical ideas with which he was now first thrown into contact gradually took root and ripened. His stay in Baghdad, though it lasted only a year and a half (1009-1010 A.D.), decided the whole bent of his mind for the future.

Whether his return to Ma'arra was hastened, as he says, by want of means and the illness of his mother, whom he tenderly loved, or by an indignity which he suffered at the hands of an influential patron,[581]

immediately on his arrival he shut himself in his house, adopted a vegetarian diet and other ascetic practices, and pa.s.sed the rest of his long life in comparative seclusion:--

"Methinks, I am thrice imprisoned--ask not me Of news that need no telling-- By loss of sight, confinement to my house, And this vile body for my spirit's dwelling."[582]

We can only conjecture the motives which brought about this sudden change of habits and disposition. No doubt his mother's death affected him deeply, and he may have been disappointed by his failure to obtain a permanent footing in the capital. It is not surprising that the blind and lonely man, looking back on his faded youth, should have felt weary of the world and its ways, and found in melancholy contemplation of earthly vanities ever fresh matter for the application and development of these philosophical ideas which, as we have seen, were probably suggested to him by his recent experiences. While in the collection of early poems, ent.i.tled _Saq?u 'l-Zand_ or 'The Spark of the Fire-stick'

and mainly composed before his visit to Baghdad, he still treads the customary path of his predecessors,[583] his poems written after that time and generally known as the _Luzumiyyat_[584] arrest attention by their boldness and originality as well as by the sombre and earnest tone which pervades them. This, indeed, is not the view of most Oriental critics, who dislike the poet's irreverence and fail to appreciate the fact that he stood considerably in advance of his age; but in Europe he has received full justice and perhaps higher praise than he deserves.

Reiske describes him as 'Arabice callentissimum, vasti, subtilis, sublimis et audacis ingenii';[585] Von Hammer, who ranks him as a poet with Abu Tammam, Bu?turi, and Mutanabbi, also mentions him honourably as a philosopher;[586] and finally Von Kremer, who made an exhaustive study of the _Luzumiyyat_ and examined their contents in a masterly essay,[587] discovered in Abu 'l-'Ala, one of the greatest moralists of all time whose profound genius antic.i.p.ated much that is commonly attributed to the so-called modern spirit of enlightenment. Here Von Kremer's enthusiasm may have carried him too far; for the poet, as Professor Margoliouth says, was unconscious of the value of his suggestions, unable to follow them out, and unable to adhere to them consistently. Although he builded better than he knew, the constructive side of his philosophy was overshadowed by the negative and destructive side, so that his pure and lofty morality leaves but a faint impression which soon dies away in louder, continually recurring voices of doubt and despair.

Abu 'l-'Ala is a firm monotheist, but his belief in G.o.d amounted, as it would seem, to little beyond a conviction that all things are governed by inexorable Fate, whose mysteries none may fathom and from whose omnipotence there is no escape. He denies the Resurrection of the dead, _e.g._:--

"We laugh, but inept is our laughter; We should weep and weep sore, Who are shattered like gla.s.s, and thereafter Re-moulded no more!"[588]

Since Death is the ultimate goal of mankind, the sage will pray to be delivered as speedily as possible from the miseries of life and refuse to inflict upon others what, by no fault of his own, he is doomed to suffer:--

"Amends are richly due from sire to son: What if thy children rule o'er cities great?

That eminence estranges them the more From thee, and causes them to wax in hate, Beholding one who cast them into Life's Dark labyrinth whence no wit can extricate."[589]

There are many pa.s.sages to the same effect, showing that Abu 'l-'Ala regarded procreation as a sin and universal annihilation as the best hope for humanity. He acted in accordance with his opinions, for he never married, and he is said to have desired that the following verse should be inscribed on his grave:--

"This wrong was by my father done To me, but ne'er by me to one."[590]

Hating the present life and weary of its burdens, yet seeing no happier prospect than that of return to non-existence, Abu 'l-'Ala can scarcely have disguised from himself what he might shrink openly to avow--that he was at heart, not indeed an atheist, but wholly incredulous of any Divine revelation. Religion, as he conceives it, is a product of the human mind, in which men believe through force of habit and education, never stopping to consider whether it is true.

"Sometimes you may find a man skilful in his trade, perfect in sagacity and in the use of arguments, but when he comes to religion he is found obstinate, so does he follow the old groove. Piety is implanted in human nature; it is deemed a sure refuge. To the growing child that which falls from his elders' lips is a lesson that abides with him all his life. Monks in their cloisters and devotees in the mosques accept their creed just as a story is handed down from him who tells it, without distinguishing between a true interpreter and a false. If one of these had found his kin among the Magians, he would have declared himself a Magian, or among the ?abians, he would have become nearly or quite like _them_."[591]

Religion, then, is "a fable invented by the ancients," worthless except to those unscrupulous persons who prey upon human folly and superst.i.tion. Islam is neither better nor worse than any other creed:--

"?anifs are stumbling,[592] Christians all astray, Jews wildered, Magians far on error's way.

We mortals are composed of two great schools-- Enlightened knaves or else religious fools."[593]

Not only does the poet emphatically reject the proud claim of Islam to possess a monopoly of truth, but he attacks most of its dogmas in detail. As to the Koran, Abu 'l-'Ala could not altogether refrain from doubting if it was really the Word of G.o.d, but he thought so well of the style that he accepted the challenge flung down by Mu?ammad and produced a rival work (_al-Fu?ul wa-'l-Ghayat_), which appears to have been a somewhat frivolous parody of the sacred volume, though in the author's judgment its inferiority was simply due to the fact that it was not yet polished by the tongues of four centuries of readers.

Another work which must have sorely offended orthodox Mu?ammadans is the _Risalatu 'l-Ghufran_ (Epistle of Forgiveness).[594] Here the Paradise of the Faithful becomes a glorified salon tenanted by various heathen poets who have been forgiven--hence the t.i.tle--and received among the Blest. This idea is carried out with much ingenuity and in a spirit of audacious burlesque that reminds us of Lucian. The poets are presented in a series of imaginary conversations with a certain Shaykh 'Ali b. Man?ur, to whom the work is addressed, reciting and explaining their verses, quarrelling with one another, and generally behaving as literary Bohemians. The second part contains a number of anecdotes relating to the _zindiqs_ or freethinkers of Islam interspersed with quotations from their poetry and reflections on the nature of their belief, which Abu 'l-'Ala condemns while expressing a pious hope that they are not so black as they paint themselves. At this time it may have suited him--he was over sixty--to a.s.sume the att.i.tude of charitable orthodoxy. Like so many wise men of the East, he practised dissimulation as a fine art--

"I lift my voice to utter lies absurd, But when I speak the truth, my hushed tones scarce are heard."[595]

In the _Luzumiyyat_, however, he often unmasks. Thus he describes as idolatrous relics the two Pillars of the Ka'ba and the Black Stone, venerated by every Moslem, and calls the Pilgrimage itself 'a heathen's journey' (_ri?latu jahiliyyin_). The following sentiments do him honour, but they would have been rank heresy at Mecca:--

"Praise G.o.d and pray, Walk seventy times, not seven, the Temple round-- And impious remain!

Devout is he alone who, when he may Feast his desires, is found With courage to abstain."[596]

It is needless to give further instances of the poet's contempt for the Mu?ammadan articles of faith. Considering that he a.s.sailed persons as well as principles, and lashed with bitter invective the powerful cla.s.s of the _'Ulama_, the clerical and legal representatives of Islam, we may wonder that the accusation of heresy brought against him was never pushed home and had no serious consequences. The question was warmly argued on both sides, and though Abu 'l-'Ala was p.r.o.nounced by the majority to be a freethinker and materialist, he did not lack defenders who quoted chapter and verse to prove that he was nothing of the kind.

It must be remembered that his works contain no philosophical system; that his opinions have to be gathered from the ideas which he scatters incoherently, and for the most part in guarded language, through a long succession of rhymes; and that this task, already arduous enough, is complicated by the not infrequent occurrence of sentiments which are blamelessly orthodox and entirely contradictory to the rest. A brilliant writer, familiar with Eastern ways of thinking, has observed that in general the conscience of an Asiatic is composed of the following ingredients: (1) an almost bare religious designation; (2) a more or less lively belief in certain doctrines of the creed which he professes; (3) a resolute opposition to many of its doctrines, even if they should be the most essential; (4) a fund of ideas relating to completely alien theories, which occupies more or less room; (5) a constant tendency to get rid of these ideas and theories and to replace the old by new.[597]

Such phenomena will account for a great deal of logical inconsistency, but we should beware of invoking them too confidently in this case. Abu 'l-'Ala with his keen intellect and unfanatical temperament was not the man to let himself be mystified. Still lamer is the explanation offered by some Mu?ammadan critics, that his thoughts were decided by the necessities of the difficult metre in which he wrote. It is conceivable that he may sometimes have doubted his own doubts and given Islam the benefit, but Von Kremer's conclusion is probably near the truth, namely, that where the poet speaks as a good Moslem, his phrases if they are not purely conventional are introduced of set purpose to foil his pious antagonists or to throw them off the scent. Although he was not without religion in the larger sense of the word, unprejudiced students of the later poems must recognise that from the orthodox standpoint he was justly branded as an infidel. The following translations will serve to ill.u.s.trate the negative side of his philosophy:--

"Falsehood hath so corrupted all the world That wrangling sects each other's gospel chide; But were not hate Man's natural element, Churches and mosques had risen side by side."[598]

"What is Religion? A maid kept close that no eye may view her; The price of her wedding-gifts and dowry baffles the wooer.

Of all the goodly doctrine that I from the pulpit heard My heart has never accepted so much as a single word!"[599]

"The pillars of this earth are four, Which lend to human life a base; G.o.d shaped two vessels, Time and s.p.a.ce, The world and all its folk to store.

"That which Time holds, in ignorance It holds--why vent on it our spite?

Man is no cave-bound eremite, But still an eager spy on Chance.

"He trembles to be laid asleep, Tho' worn and old and weary grown.

We laugh and weep by Fate alone, Time moves us not to laugh or weep;

"Yet we accuse it innocent, Which, could it speak, might us accuse, Our best and worst, at will to choose, United in a sinful bent."[600]

"'The stars' conjunction comes, divinely sent, And lo, the veil o'er every creed is rent.

No realm is founded that escapes decay, The firmest structure soon dissolves away.[601]

With sadness deep a thoughtful mind must scan Religion made to serve the pelf of Man.

Fear thine own children: sparks at random flung Consume the very tinder whence they sprung.

Evil are all men; I distinguish not That part or this: the race entire I blot.

Trust none, however near akin, tho' he A perfect sense of honour show to thee, Thy self is the worst foe to be withstood: Be on thy guard in hours of solitude."

"Desire a venerable shaykh to cite Reason for his doctrine, he is gravelled quite.

What! shall I ripen ere a leaf is seen?

The tree bears only when 'tis clad in green."[602]

"How have I provoked your enmity?

Christ or Mu?ammad, 'tis one to me.

No rays of dawn our path illume, We are sunk together in ceaseless gloom.

Can blind perceptions lead aright, Or blear eyes ever have clear sight?

Well may a body racked with pain Envy mouldering bones in vain; Yet comes a day when the weary sword Reposes, to its sheath restored.

Ah, who to me a frame will give As clod or stone insensitive?-- For when spirit is joined to flesh, the pair Anguish of mortal sickness share.

O Wind, be still, if wind thy name, O Flame, die out, if thou art flame!"[603]

Pessimist and sceptic as he was, Abu 'l-'Ala denies more than he affirms, but although he rejected the dogmas of positive religion, he did not fall into utter unbelief; for he found within himself a moral law to which he could not refuse obedience.

"Take Reason for thy guide and do what she Approves, the best of counsellors in sooth.

Accept no law the Pentateuch lays down: Not there is what thou seekest--the plain truth."[604]

He insists repeatedly that virtue is its own reward.

"Oh, purge the good thou dost from hope of recompense Or profit, as if thou wert one that sells his wares."[605]

His creed is that of a philosopher and ascetic. Slay no living creature, he says; better spare a flea than give alms. Yet he prefers active piety, active humanity, to fasting and prayer. "The gist of his moral teaching is to inculcate as the highest and holiest duty a conscientious fulfilment of one's obligations with equal warmth and affection towards all living beings."[606]

Abu 'l-'Ala died in 1057 A.D., at the age of eighty-four. About ten years before this time, the Persian poet and traveller, Na?ir-i Khusraw, pa.s.sed through Ma'arra on his way to Egypt. He describes Abu 'l-'Ala as the chief man in the town, very rich, revered by the inhabitants, and surrounded by more than two hundred students who came from all parts to attend his lectures on literature and poetry.[607] We may set this trustworthy notice against the doleful account which Abu 'l-'Ala gives of himself in his letters and other works. If not among the greatest Mu?ammadan poets, he is undoubtedly one of the most original and attractive. After Mutanabbi, even after Abu 'l-'Atahiya, he must appear strangely modern to the European reader. It is astonishing to reflect that a spirit so unconventional, so free from dogmatic prejudice, so rational in spite of his pessimism and deeply religious notwithstanding his attacks on revealed religion, should have ended his life in a Syrian country-town some years before the battle of Senlac.

Although he did not meddle with politics and held aloof from every sect, he could truly say of himself, "I am the son of my time" (_ghadawtu 'bna waqti_).[608] His poems leave no aspect of the age untouched, and present a vivid picture of degeneracy and corruption, in which tyrannous rulers, venal judges, hypocritical and unscrupulous theologians, swindling astrologers, roving swarms of dervishes and G.o.dless Carmathians occupy a prominent place.[609]