A History of Indian Literature v2.c19.s6.t4.119

v2.c19.s6.t4.119

This characteristic is exaggerated to such a degree in the longer Prajñā-Pāramitās, that it would be quite possible to write down more than one half of a gigantic work like the Śatasāhasrikā-Prajñā-Pāramitā from memory, as the same sentences and expressions constantly recur literally. For instance, in the introduction it is not only said that rays of light shine forth from the whole body of Buddha, and shed an infinite radiance of light over the whole world, but it is said of the toes, the ankles, and every limb and every little part of the body, that rays of light shine forth from them, and shed an infinite radiance of light over the eastern part of the world, the western part of the world, and so on—and the whole set of phrases is repeated for each part of the world, in the same words. In the same way, the writer is not content to say merely: "All is only name," but this "all" is amplified in minute detail, in never-ending series of sentences, until the whole of creation is completely exhausted. We can well comprehend people's holding the view that the world is not real and that everything is empty and vain, and that nothing can be expressed in words, and that "no" is the only possible reply to all questions:—but we would really regard it as an impossibility for book upon book, and for thousands of pages to be written from the standpoint of such a categorical negation of anything and everything: and yet, in the Prajñā-Pāramitās, the impossibility has become a reality. Our sole explanation of this verbosity for the sake of verbosity, is that these monks wrote so much, because it was regarded as a religious merit to write and read as much as possible of these sacred texts.¹ The substance of their writing did not matter. The actual doctrine is the same in the "Hundred-thousand Prajñā-Pāramitā"