too far. As Meadows has pointed out (1986: 18f.), stories 33 and 34 instead clearly reflect the virtue of for bearance (ksanti), while story 31 focuses largely on giving (dana) and truth (an aspect of virtue), and story 32 on renunciation (also an aspect of virtue). Meadows argues that the last four stories should instead be seen as recapitulations of the first thirty and suggests that it was in fact never Arya·shura’s intention to tackle the last three perfections. On the contrary, since the first three perfections are suited to householders, and particularly kings, whereas the last three perfections are more suited to monks, the absence of the last three perfections is not a flaw but reflects the text’s focus on instructing the laity.
Turning away from the issue of perfections, there are also other ways in which the stories are bound together.13 Numerous themes, images, and metaphors are repeated, echoed, and developed across various narratives, forming a web of allusions and cross-references; for example, the motif that the Bodhi·sattva acts like a relative toward strangers, or the numerous idyllic portrayals of the forest, or the frequent reactions of devotion expressed by witnesses to the Bodhi·sattva’s deeds. Furthermore, while the general format of the work is unstable, the structure of the individual stories is largely predictable and fixed, creating a sense of expectation as the reader embarks on a new tale.
Every tale starts with a maxim. For example, story 30 begins: “If it results in the welfare of others, even pain is esteemed by the virtuous as a gain.” There then follows the phrase tad/yath” anusruyate (“it has been transmitted as follows”). After this a description of the Bodhi·sattva’s back- ________
ground leads to the commencement of the plot. Usually, but not always, the story concludes by restating the opening maxim. Finally, most of the stories have an epilogue that instructs monks as to the proper occasion for reciting the tales. While scholars may be tempted to see these epilogues as interpolations, they are found in all extant manuscripts. Moreover, since they offer an important glimpse of how the stories might have been used pedagogically by monks, I have decided to keep them in the translation.
The “Garland of the Buddha’s Past Lives” is composed in an elegant mixture of verse and prose known as campu. Although Arya·shura’s text is not the earliest example we have of this genre (fragments survive of a text from the second century ce called the Kalpanamanditika Drstantapankti by Kumara·lata), it is the first time that campu reaches such a high level of refinement, leading to its praise by Indian aesthetic theorists (Khoroche 1989: xvi). While the Sanskrit is simple and clear, and the ornamentation light compared to later authors, the “Garland of the Buddha’s Past Lives” is conspicuous for the variety of its poetic meters, the wealth of its vocabulary, and the sophistication of its literary devices in both verse and prose. It is beyond the scope of this introduction to cover the range of techniques employed by Arya·shura,14 including a deft treatment of metaphor, but as an example of his artistry, one might cite his use of sikha, a particular variety of yamaka (repetition or echo), whereby the second half of each quarter verse repeats the same syllables:
When a woman is weak from intoxication,
she can even tie her parents to a tree
and ignore her husband, though he were Kubera
himself.
Such is the treasure stored in this pot!(17.28 [17])
Although Arya·shura’s individual literary skill cannot be doubted, he was, of course, also working within a tradition, a fact he is keen to emphasize when he states that he contradicts neither sacred tradition nor the Buddha’s words (1.4 [3]). Many of his stories derive material from the jataka tradition that preceded him. He especially makes use of canonical jataka verses, equivalent or similar to the stanzas preserved in the Pali Jatakatthavannana,15 and indeed thirty of the thirty-four stories in the “Garland of the Buddha’s Past Lives” have parallels in the Jatakatthavannana.16 That said, Arya·shura was not afraid of innovation. In “The Birth-Story of the Hare” (6), for example, the Bodhi·sattva dies by sacrificing himself into a fire for a brahmin, a conspicuous departure from earlier versions, as preserved in the Jatakatthavannana (no. 316) and Cariyapitaka (1.10), in which the hare survives the fire unscathed (Ohnuma 2007: 29). Arya·shura thus constantly seeks to strike a balance between the need for traditional authority on the one hand and the aspiration to develop the jataka genre through fresh literary expression on the other.
Central Themes in
the “Garland of the Buddha’s Past Lives”17
In his introductory verses, Arya·shura spells out some central motives behind composing the “Garland of the Buddha’s Past Lives.” While presented as an act of compassion performed “out of concern for the good of the world” (1.4 [3]), the text is primarily portrayed as an expression of devotion and reverence for the Buddha and his past deeds (vv. 1.2 [1], 1.5 [4]):
With this handful of flowers of poetry,
I devoutly honor his miraculous feats [. . .]
With bowed head, I revere this matchless being.
Although the didactic value of the stories is stressed— “These commendable acts offer clear signposts revealing the path to Buddhahood” (1.3 [2])—Arya·shura appears unsatisfied by the mere articulation of doctrine. On the contrary, he intends his stories to have an emotional and aesthetic effect, aimed at inspiring devotion in his audience:
May even the hard-hearted
become softened!
And may religious teachings
hereby increase with charm!(1.3 [2])
The devotional impact Arya·shura intends his narratives to achieve is reflected by the characters in the text when they witness the Bodhi·sattva’s miraculous deeds.18 Repeatedly we are told of how demons, gods, kings, ascetics, and householders are astonished by the Bodhi·sattva’s feats and become filled with devotion and joy:
Gods gathered with troops of nymphs,
their eyes blooming with wonder.
A delightful breeze began to blow.
Joy expanded in the hearts of every being.(2.78 [40])
The natural surroundings are also influenced by the Bodhi·sattva’s virtue, resulting in earthquakes, flowers falling from the sky, and oceans breaking over their shores (2.76 [38]).
This emphasis on devotion is tied up with the Bodhi·sattva’s role as a savior. Often described with images such as father, relative, protector, guide, teacher, or doctor,19 the Bodhi·sattva repeatedly acts out of compassion for beings in distress or provides refuge for the wicked he converts. The response of his disciple Ajita in “The Birth-Story on the Tigress” is typical (1.54): “I pay homage in every manner to this illustrious being, a refuge for all living creatures, a source of immense compassion and boundless goodness, a true Bodhi·sattva.” The Bodhi·sattva’s tactics as savior and instructor vary, depending on the situation. In some stories he seeks to instill fear, whether by admonishing a king who is addicted to liquor with an aggressive sermon as in “The Birth-Story on the Jar” (17) or by enforcing virtue through a police state as in “The Birth-Story on the Sacrifice” (10). In other stories the Bodhi·sattva’s techniques take on a more directly physical, and corporeal, form of salvation, as he sacrifices his body to be eaten by a hungry tigress (story 1) or allows demons to drink his blood (story 8).
The importance of the Bodhi·sattva’s role as savior is linked to his frequent