A History of Sanskrit Literature c19.s5.11

c19.s5.11

The religious world of Somadeva reminds us of the superstitious nature of the people of Kashmir; we can hardly doubt that the Kashmir recension added readily anything that seemed interesting in this regard, even if Somadeva himself is rather inclined to rationalizing Märchen. Çiva and Pārvatī in her dread forms are the great deities, though Viṣṇu inevitably appears in the episode of Naravāhana's visit to the Çvetadvīpa. Human offerings are specially frequent, the Pulindas, the Bhillas, are regarded as ever on the outlook for victims for the goddess to whom Jīmūtavāhana is prepared to offer homage before his act of self-sacrifice. Witchcraft is taken as a matter of course, and many details are given of the dreadful deeds of the witches and of the horrible scenes enacted nightly at the places where the dead are burned or flung out as prey for beasts, birds, and the ghouls who haunt these cemeteries; in his eeriness of description Somadeva is a match for the author of the *Mālatīmādhava*. Buddhistic traits are not rare, though only sporadic; it must be remembered that, as we know from Kalhaṇa, Buddhism had in a degraded form a strong hold in Kashmir. A number of tales are told to relate the action of Karman in determining man’s life; we have a legend of a prince who tears out an eye because women loved so deeply his beauty, a parallel to the *Mittavindaka Jātaka*, and the legend of Jīmūtavāhana, though the Buddhist origin of that has been questioned.¹ The *Vetālapañcaviñçatikā* legends show distinct Buddhist traits. On the other hand, we have frequent mention of the worship of the Liṅga, Çiva’s phallic symbol, and of the Mothers, and popular superstition is everywhere abundant. The gods and minor spirits mingle freely in ordinary life, innumerable apparent mortals are merely beings driven from heaven by curses who can be restored to their former estate by some act of cruelty or kindness. The love of the marvellous is fully satisfied by tales of adventures at sea, with shipwrecks and subterranean palaces, or not less marvellous wanderings on land to strange places like camphor-land where princesses can easily be won. The loves of Naravāhanadatta are too numerous and too inevitable—for they are all fore-ordained even if we are only told so at the end—to be exciting, but there are many others recounted in episodes, and a picture or a dream often proves the starting-point for a deep if transient affection. Nor can we ignore the interest lent by the inclusion of effective versions of the Vetāla cycle, of the *Pañcatantra*, of anecdotes of Vikramāditya, as well as those in the less satisfactory book Padmāvatī.