Four hundred years ago the Persian language (or at any rate the written language, for no doubt fresh colloquialisms Remarkable stability of the Persian literary language. and slang may have arisen during this period) was to all intents and purposes the same as it is to-day, while such new literary forms as exist go no further back, as a rule, than the middle of the nineteenth century, that is to say than the accession of Náṣiru'd-Dín Sháh, whose reign (A.D. 1848-1896) might not inappropriately be called the Persian Victorian * Era. In the three previous volumes of this book each historical chapter has been immediately followed by a chapter dealing with the literature of that period; but in this volume, for the reason just given, it appeared unnecessary to break the sequence of events in this way, and to be preferable to devote the first part of the volume to a brief historical sketch of the whole period, and the second and third parts to a consideration of the literature in verse and prose, arranged according to categories.
How to arrange these categories is a problem which has cost me a good deal of thought. Nearly all those who Excessive attention devoted to Persian poetry. have written on Persian literature have paid an amount of attention which I regard as excessive and disproportionate to poetry and belles-lettres, and have almost entirely ignored the plainer but more positive fields of history, biography, theology, philosophy and the ancient sciences. If we understand literature in the narrower sense as denoting those writings only, whether poetry or prose, which have artistic form, there is, no doubt, some justification for this view; but not if we take it in the wider sense of the manifestation in writing of a nation's mind and intellectual activities. Still, in deference to the prevalent view, we may begin this general survey of the recent literature of Persia with some consideration of its poetry.
Here we have to distinguish some half-dozen categories of verse, namely (1) the classical poetry; (2) occasional Categories of Persian verse. or topical verse; (3) religious and devotional verse, from the formal marthiyas, or threnodies, of great poets like Muḥtasham of Káshán to the simple popular poems on the sufferings of the Imáms recited at the Ta'ziyas, or mournings, of the month of Muḥarram; (4) the scanty but sometimes very spirited verses composed by the Bábís since about 1850, which should be regarded as a special subdivision of the class last mentioned; (5) the ballads or taṣnífs sung by professional minstrels, of which it is hard to trace the origin or antiquity; (6) the quite modern political verse which has arisen since the Revolution of 1906, and which I have already discussed in some detail in another work. * In this chapter I shall deal chiefly with the religious verse, leaving the consideration of the secular poetry to the two succeeding chapters.
Alike in form and matter the classical poetry of Persia has been stereotyped for at least five or six centuries, so Later poetry of the classical type. that, except for such references to events or persons as may indicate the date of composition, it is hardly possible, after reading a qaṣída (elegy), ghazal (ode), or rubá'í (quatrain), to guess whether it was composed by a contemporary of Jámí (d. A.H. 1492) or by some quite recent poet, such as Qá'ání. Of the extremely conventional character of this poetry I have spoken in a previous volume, * and of Ibn Khaldún's doctrine “that the Art of composing in verse or prose is concerned only with words, not with ideas.” Hence, even in the most recent poetry of this type, we very seldom find any allusion to such modern inventions as tea-drinking, tobacco-smoking, railways, telegraphs or newspapers; * indeed several of the greatest modern poets, such as Qá'ání, Dáwarí and the like, have chiefly shown their originality by reviving certain forms of verse like the musammaṭ * which had fallen into disuse since the eleventh or twelfth century.
Perhaps the statement with which the above paragraph
opens is too sweeping and requires some qualification, for
Literary criticism
neglected by the
Persians.
in some of the later Persian poets Indian and
Turkish critics do profess to discover a certain
originality (táza-gú'í) marking an epoch in the
development of the art, and the rise of a new school. The
Persians themselves are not addicted to literary criticism;
perhaps because, just as people only discuss their health
when they are beginning to lose it, so those only indulge
in meticulous literary criticism who are no longer able, or
have never been able, to produce good literature. According
to Gibb,
*
Jámí and Mír 'Alí Shír Nawá'í, 'Urfí of Shíráz
(d. 999/1590-1) and the Indian Fayḍí (Feyẓí, d. 1004/1595-
India, at all events, thanks to the generous patronage of
Humáyún, Akbar, and their successors down to that gloomy
Attraction of
India to Persian
poets under the
earlier Moghul
Emperors.
zealot Awrangzíb, and of their great nobles, such
as Bayram Khán-Khánán and his son 'Abdu'r-
Thus Ṣá'ib says:
<text in Arabic script omitted>
“There is no head wherein desire for thee danceth not,
Even as the determination to visit India is in every heart.”
And Abú Ṭálib Kalím says:
<text in Arabic script omitted>
“I am the captive of India, and I regret this misplaced journey:
Whither can the feather-flutterings of the dying bird
*
convey it?
Kalím goes lamenting to Persia [dragged thither] by the eagerness
of his fellow-travellers,
Like the camel-bell which traverses the stage on the feet of others.
Through longing for India I turn my regretful eyes backwards in
such fashion
That, even if I set my face to the road, I do not see what confronts
me.”
So also 'Alí-qulí Salím says:
<text in Arabic script omitted>
“There exist not in Persia the means of acquiring perfection:
Henna does not develop its colour until it comes to India.”
The Persian dervish-poet Rasmí, commemorating the Khán-Khánán's liberal patronage of poets, says: * <text in Arabic script omitted> <text in Arabic script omitted>
“Through auspicious praise of thee the fame of the perfection of that
subtle singer of Shíráz
*
reached from the East to Rúm.
*
In praising thee he became conversant with a new style, like the fair
face which gains adornment from the tire-woman.
By the grace (fayḍ) of thy name Fayḍí, like [his predecessor]
Khusraw,
*
annexed the Seven Climes from end to end with the
Indian sword.
By gathering crumbs from thy table Naẓírí the poet hath attained a
rank such that other poets
Compose such elegies in his praise that blood drips in envy from the
heart of the singer.
Men of discernment carry as a gift to Khurásán, like the collyrium
of Iṣfahán, copies of Shakíbí's verses.
By praising thee Ḥayátí found fresh life (ḥayát): yea, the substance
must needs strengthen the nature of the accident.
How can I tell the tale of Naw'í and Kufwí, since by their praise of
thee they will live until the Resurrection Dawn?
Such measure of thy favour accrued to Naw'í as Amír Mu'izzí re-
ceived from the favour of Sanjar.”
These poets of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries produced what the late Professor Ethé has happily termed the “Indian summer” of Persian poetry, and they had of course a host of Indian imitators and successors so long as Persian continued to be the polite language of India. These last, who were at best skilful manipulators of a foreign idiom, I do not propose to notice; and even of the genuine Persian poets, whether sojourners in India or residents in their own country, only a limited number of the most eminent can The eighteenth century a barren period. be discussed in these pages. The eighteenth century of our era, especially the troubled period intervening between the fall of the Ṣafawí and the rise of the Qájár dynasties (A.D. 1722-1795), was the poorest in literary achievement; after that there is a notable revival, and several poets of the nineteenth century, Qá'ání, Yaghmá, Furúghí and Wiṣál and his family, can challenge comparison with any save the very greatest of their predecessors.