The Little Clay Cart. Sudraka
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Название: The Little Clay Cart

Автор: Sudraka

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия:

isbn: 4057664112866

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СКАЧАТЬ drama. So different are these men, and so great, that it is not possible to assert for any one of them such supremacy as Shakspere holds in the English drama. It is true that Kālidāsa's dramatic masterpiece, the Shakuntalā, is the most widely known of the Indian plays. It is true that the tender and elegant Kālidāsa has been called, with a not wholly fortunate enthusiasm, the "Shakspere of India." But this rather exclusive admiration of the Shakuntalā results from lack of information about the other great Indian dramas. Indeed, it is partly due to the accident that only the Shakuntalā became known in translation at a time when romantic Europe was in full sympathy with the literature of India.

      Yet Shūdraka's limitations in regard to stylistic power are not without their compensation. For love of style slowly strangled originality and enterprise in Indian poets, and ultimately proved the death of Sanskrit literature. Now just at this point, where other Hindu writers are weak, Shūdraka stands forth preëminent. Nowhere else in the hundreds of Sanskrit dramas do we find such variety, and such drawing of character, as in The Little Clay Cart; and nowhere else, in the drama at least, is there such humor. Let us consider, a little more in detail, these three characteristics of our author; his variety, his skill in the drawing of character, his humor.

      To gain a rough idea of Shūdraka's variety, we have only to recall the names of the acts of the play. Here The Shampooer who Gambled and The Hole in the Wall are shortly followed by The Storm; and The Swapping of the Bullock-carts is closely succeeded by The Strangling of Vasantasenā. From farce to tragedy, from satire to pathos, runs the story, with a breadth truly Shaksperian. Here we have philosophy:

      The lack of money is the root of all evil.(i. 14)

      And pathos:

       My body wet by tear-drops falling, falling; My limbs polluted by the clinging mud; Flowers from the graveyard torn, my wreath appalling; For ghastly sacrifice hoarse ravens calling, And for the fragrant incense of my blood. (x. 3)

      And nature description:

       But mistress, do not scold the lightning. She is your friend, This golden cord that trembles on the breast Of great Airāvata; upon the crest Of rocky hills this banner all ablaze; This lamp tn Indra's palace; but most blest As telling where your most belovèd stays.(v. 33)

      And genuine bitterness:

       Pride and tricks and lies and fraud Are in your face; False playground of the lustful god, Such is your face; The wench's stock in trade, in fine, Epitome of joys divine, I mean your face— For sale! the price is courtesy. I trust you'll find a man to buy Your face.(v. 36)