A Monumental Effort

In presenting the text, Olivelle also draws attention to its distinctive style—to the dialogic mode that distinguishes it from the earlier Dharmasastras, and the versification that replaces the cryptic sastras of the earlier Sanskritic tradition. What is also interesting is the latent Prakritisms that Olivelle delicately excavates; evident, for instance, in verses where the Prakrit bhoti meaning ‘becomes’, fits the metre better than the Sanskrit bhavati (e.g. p.921). These suggest, as indeed is evident elsewhere, that many of the verses of the text, especially those that have a proverbial tone, were adapted from floating traditions in a variety of languages.

At another level, Olivelle addresses issues that have been debated for several decades. Pioneering scholars such as Buhler and Kane had argued for a composite text, which took shape over centuries. This understanding rested, amongst other things, on the fact that the text proclaimed contradictory positions on a range of issues. Olivelle offers a plausible explanation for these contradictions—suggesting, on the one hand, that they represent the inevitable variations between precept and practice, and that, on the other hand, they are the fruit of a process of anthologizing, whereby traditions, even if divergent, had to be accommodated within the text. This in turn leads him to argue that the text is relatively unitary rather than composite. Consequently, he locates its composition/compilation in c. second century CE, closer to the terminal date assigned to the text by earlier scholars. He also points out that the effective closure of the text coincides with the beginning of the commentarial tradition, which is particularly rich in the case of the Mânava Dharmasâstra.

At another level, Olivelle persuasively builds up a case for unitary authorship by drawing attention to what he defines as the deeper structural regularities that underlie the apparent inconsistencies in the content of the text. He bases his argument partly on the arrangement of the sections on vyavahâra or law. This, he suggests, is far more logical in the Mânava Dharmasâstra in comparison to other texts, moving as it does from individual and group disputes to criminal and personal law, and questions of public order.

As an extension of this, he outlines an alternative structure for the entire text, suggesting divisions that do not necessarily correspond to those of the available reactions. While this is an interesting possibility, the logic of the existing organization of the text also requires explanation. Besides, the textual strategies, including the use of typical verses and verbs, which Olivelle identifies as marking shifts in subject-matter do not always operate in the ways in which he suggests they do. While these are fairly accurately identified in the sections dealing with statecraft and legal matters, they are not so neatly located elsewhere. As a result, Olivelle resorts to defining sections that do not fit in within his scheme of things as excursus. To cite just one instance of the incongruities that result: one of the two introductory cosmogonic narratives is classified as an excursus (p. 88). However, it is not separated from the first by the verses/ terms that Olivelle recognizes as markers of sections/sub sections. In effect, the resolution of the dilemma of recovering and respecting the logic(s) of the text and reconciling this with present-day notions of consistency remains somewhat uneasy.

Olivelle also engages with the larger issues of context, and locates the Mânava Dharmasâstra’s concern with dharma within the post-Mauryan world, where the message of Asokan inscriptions provided a challenge to the brahmanical order that had to be addressed in complex ways. Identifying the author of the dharmasâstra as the primeval man/king was obviously in consonance with the preoccupations of this enterprise. In fact, Olivelle establishes that the king and the brâhmana constitute the two focal points of the text—their concerns are represented in over 70% of the verses. There is also the more specific context of the sâstric tradition. Olivelle dwells at length on the nature of the sâstra in general, on the notion of expertise and specialization, and on the complex mediations between traditions and social realities. It is this nuanced understanding of text and context that informs the enterprise of editing and translating.

Turning to the translation itself, what strikes one is the unpretentious, conscientious rendering that is provided. This proves to be extremely useful both for the curious lay reader as well as for the specialist. There are no dramatic flourishes: what we find instead is a careful statement of problems, most of which are flagged for the reader. At the very outset, for instance, the difficulties in translating cosmogonic concepts are acknowledged (p. 88, 239). The endnotes provided for the translation are equally illuminating: many of them allow access to the vibrant commentarial tradition that developed around the text as well as provide an opportunity to compare Olivelle’s translation with those of his predecessors. Scholarly disagreements are explicitly but quietly acknowledged. In other instances, the meaning of the text is elucidated. In fact, ideally these should have featured as footnotes: see for instance the note on verse 16, chapter 2, which delimits the audience of the text. Here, Olivelle explains (p.245) with characteristic understatement that the implications of the verse are to exclude buy cialis 5 mg in usa women and sûdras from access to the text. Overall, the translation leaves little to be desired and much to be thankful for. Nonetheless, there are points where one wishes the treatment of the text was more explicit. There are times when the translation fails to foreground the sharply gendered nature of the text. For instance, the translation of verse 109, chapter 2 is as follows: The son of his teacher, a person who offers obedient service, a person who has given him knowledge, a virtuous person, an honest person, someone close to him, a capable man, someone who gives him money, a good man, and one who is his own: these ten may be taught the Veda in accordance with the Law (p.100). The use of the apparently gender-neutral term ‘person’ glosses over the fact that all the words used in Sanskrit (p.422) are in masculine forms. A similar strategy affects the translation of the term pitr (e.g. p. 464), literally ‘father’, and by extension ‘patrilineal ancestor,’ which is rendered by the more general term ‘ancestor (p.113). It is also rather odd to find diacritics used for three of the four varn?as, while the term brâhmana is rendered as ‘brahmin’ (e.g. p.88). This is an instance where the brahmanical identity seems to have been naturalized, and incorporated rather unproblematically within the English rendition, instead of being allowed at least terminological parity with the other varnas. What is equally intriguing is the use of the term ‘class’ to translate varna (e.g. p.105). Admittedly, varna is a rather intractable category that defies easy conversion into other social and /or linguistic registers. But acknowledging such difficulties may have been better than suggesting equivalences that are at best approximate. One can also quibble over the translation of specific terms; I was not quite sure whether ‘malcontent’ (p. 101) effectively captures the sense of asûyaka (p. 423)—with its connotations of being jealous or envious. The translation of the term as ‘resentment’ (p. 132) is certainly more apposite. These problems surface in the translation of some relatively technical terms as well: for instance, vidhâna (p. 383) is rendered as ‘ordinance’ (p.87). The commentarial gloss (p.237) indicates that the term conveyed a range of meanings—from suggesting relationship with the Vedas to that with the sâstras in general. It would have been useful if the translation gave a sense of these complexities instead of relegating them to the endnotes. Also somewhat problematic is the rendering of the terms prabhu and îsvara (e.g. p. 386, p.615) as ‘Lord’ (e.g. p. 88, p.150), which seems to have an almost Biblical undertone, as indeed does the translation of œruti as ‘scripture’ (p. 95, although elsewhere, e.g. p. 102, it is more appropriately rendered as ‘vedic knowledge’) and nâstika as ‘infidel’ (ibid.). Other terms that one wished were translated differently include moksa rendered as ‘renunciation’ (p.150) instead of ‘liberation’, the option adopted by Buhler and Doniger. Somewhat uncharacteristically, Olivelle dismisses this possibility as ‘overly literal’ (p. 290). Moreover, in the context of kingship, the term dan?d?a is occasionally translated as ‘military force’ (e.g. p.159). While this is plausible, the wider connotations of danda in terms of a monopoly over judicial authority probably needed to be accommodated as well. More problematic is the translation of the term vadha (prescribed as punishment for a sûdra who assaulted a brâhmana) as corporal punishment (p.181), ignoring the possibility of the narrower but stronger connotation of a death penalty. Olivelle acknowledges this possibility elsewhere (p.319), but it perhaps needed to be foregrounded in the translation rather than being relegated to the endnotes. Some of the richness of the original is also, perhaps unnecessarily, whittled down in the translation. The term dudoha for instance (p. 387) is rendered as ‘squeezed out’ (p. 88), although it is acknowledged (p. 239) that the term ‘evokes the image of milking a cow’. Allowing the (in this case bovine) imagery to surface in the translation would have conveyed a sense of cultural specificities which could have enriched our understanding of the text. Besides, there is occasional scope for confusion. One is not told, for instance, why the râksas are mentioned as such in some cases (e.g. p.118), and get converted into fiends elsewhere (e.g. p. 119). The volume includes an index of verses with parallels in other texts within the Dharma tradition. This is certainly useful: what one would have wished for, additionally, is a listing of parallels with the Bhagavad Gîta—several pâdas contain familiar resonances and, in many cases, identical phrases. Collating these would have enriched our understanding of the text. Also, one wishes that about fifty verses in Chapter VII dealing with the notion of daiva, fate, which occur in some of the manuscripts, had been translated as an appendix to the main text, just as they have been placed in the critical edition. The very location of these verses, in the context of warfare and kingship, provides insights into the way these processes and institutions were visualized within the textual tradition.

These problems, however, do little to detract from what is in fact a monumental work, one, moreover, where words are, more often than not, carefully weighed and delicately contextualized. Consider for instance the term krtrima (literally artificial), used for a category of sons, which is rendered as ‘constituted’ (p. 199) conveying the sense of a person who was chosen on account of his qualities. Or the term dhrti, used in the context of modes of livelihood, translated as fortitude (p.214), with a laconic comment in the endnotes (p.338): Commentators take it to mean being content with little, but that is hardly a way to obtain a livelihood.

At the outset Olivelle admits that he undertook the enterprise without quite realizing its mammoth implications. All serious students of early Indian history (and others as well) should be grateful for this lack of foresight—it has, in fact, resulted in a volume that will be of immense value for decades to come.

Kumkum Roy teaches History at the Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.