Expanded comparisons give dignity to epics and heroic narratives—even as they create an atmosphere of psychological poignancy or of relieving breadth, they revealing the richness of human experience, all bringing nuances of many qualities, characterizing now the vehemence of feelings, elaborating then on the tension of time through human failures or human attainments, accompanied with uncertainties and anxieties of the result, the scope of swaying clashes that are going to decide the fortunes of people and of nations. There are grades and classes into which they can fall, physical actions, valiant or superhuman deeds, secular concerns, religious intensities, justification of the ways of the unknown to the known, issues of original sin and virtue, spiritual conquests, grim occult battles fought for the cause of this creation. The expressions also assume corresponding moods and methods, matter defining manner. We may pick up here, at random, a few narrative examples from various places, examples of extended similes, also called Homeric similes. Sri Aurobindo’s bird-image in the Savitri-passage stands out, rather flies in another empyrean, a wondrous empyrean indeed, in the ether of another ecstasy. Let us see some of these aspects.


Matthew Arnold: Sohrab and Rustum

…we are all, like swimmers in the sea,

Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate,

Which hangs uncertain to which side to fall.

And whether it will heave us up to land,

Or whether it will roll us out to sea,

Back out to sea, to the deep waves of death,

We know not, and no search will make us know;

Only the event will teach us in its hour.


William Wordsworth: Michael

…in his shepherd’s calling he was prompt

And watchful more than ordinary men.

Hence had he learned the meaning of all winds,

Of blasts of every tone; and, oftentimes,

When others heeded not, he heard the South

Make subterraneous music, like the noise

Of bagpipers on distant Highland hills.


Milton: Paradise Lost

Eve has succumbed to the temptation and helpless Adam starts preparing for the inevitable, Book IX:

So counselled he, and both together went

Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose

The fig-tree; not that kind for fruit renowned,

But such as at this day, to Indians known,

In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms

Branching so broad and long, that in the ground

The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow

About the mother tree, a pillared shade

High over-arched, and echoing walks between:

There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,

Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds

At loop-holes cut through thickest shade: Those leaves

They gathered, broad as Amazonian targe;

And, with what skill they had, together sewed,

To gird their waist; vain covering, if to hide

Their guilt and dreaded shame! O, how unlike

To that first naked glory! Such of late

Columbus found the American, so girt

With feathered cincture; naked else, and wild

Among the trees on isles and woody shores.


Homer: Iliad

Zeus makes Mt Ida as his Wartime headquarters:

With this he yoked his fleet horses, with hoofs of bronze and manes of glittering gold. He girded himself also with gold about the body, seized his gold whip and took his seat in his chariot. Thereon he lashed his horses and they flew forward nothing loth midway twixt earth and starry heaven. After a while he reached many-fountained Ida, mother of wild beasts, and Gargarus, where are his grove and fragrant altar. There the father of gods and men stayed his horses, took them from the chariot, and hid them in a thick cloud; then he took his seat all glorious upon the topmost crests, looking down upon the city of Troy and the ships of the Achaeans.


Hector on a rampage, ravaging the Greeks:

As when the west wind hustles the clouds of the white south and beats them down with the fierceness of its fury- the waves of the sea roll high, and the spray is flung aloft in the rage of the wandering wind- even so thick were the heads of them that fell by the hand of Hector.


Achilles charges:

Fear fell upon Hector as he beheld him, and he dared not stay longer where he was but fled in dismay from before the gates, while Achilles darted after him at his utmost speed. As a mountain falcon, swiftest of all birds, swoops down upon some cowering dove- the dove flies before him but the falcon with a shrill scream follows close after, resolved to have her- even so did Achilles make straight for Hector with all his might, while Hector fled under the Trojan wall as fast as his limbs could take him.


Virgil: Aeneid

In early summer over the country flowers

When the sun is warm, and the young of the hive emerge,

And they pack the molten honey, bulge the cells

With the sweet nectar, add new loads, and harry

The drones away from the hive, and the work glows,

And the air is sweet with bergamot and clover.

"Happy the men whose walls already rise!"

Exclaims Aeneas, gazing on the city,

And enters there, still veiled in cloud--a marvel!—

And walks among the people, and no one sees him.


Kalidasa: Shakuntala

Farewell to Shakuntala; she is about to leave the hermitage to join her husband, king Dushyanta who married her the Gandharva way. Kanwa, Shakuntala’s foster-father, tells her nature-companions of the hermitage to grant her leave:

 

Hear, all you noble trees of the sacred penance grove, abodes of the gods, she who never had a sip of water before she watered you all, she who never plucked the morning blossoms to adorn herself as lovely they were on the branches, she whose happiness was in your blossoming, as if it was feast, she dear Shakuntala leaves us today for her husbands home, give her a loving farewell. And the coël sings, and the woodland kins of the young bride give her leave to go. And all say, may gracious be the breeze, and the way passing by the banks of the lakes full of lotuses, and the burning rays of the sun mellowed by the thick shades of the trees they wish her loving bon voyage.


Valmiki: Ramayana

The demon-king Ravana has abducted Sita and carried her away to Lanka far in the south. Rama grieves and, eventually, a search party meets the vulture Sampati who had lost his wings while flying very close to the sun. Sampati tells them that he could spot Sita, though at such a distance, by the virtue of the keenness of sight of the class of birds to which he belongs.

 

I perceive through intuition that you will indeed be able to return after seeing Sita. In the point of height the first category of birds that comes is that of the sparrows and other birds who live on grains; the second is that of birds, such as crows, living on fragments of food left at a meal and those who subsist on the fruits of the trees; bhasas and herons as well as ospreys take a flight which is third in order of height; hawks come next while vultures stand fifth in the merit of height; sixth in order is the flight of swans endowed with strength and virility, graceful and comely in youth; while the flight of Garuda, eagle, is the highest. My brother Jatayu killed by Ravana and I belong to this highest class of the birds and we have the sight that, by the potency of the food we eat and by the virtue of our nature, can see objects eight hundred miles far away. There is sitting Sita under the Ashoka tree in Lanka.


Sri Aurobindo: the bird-image in Savitri

As might a soul fly like a hunted bird,

Escaping with tired wings from a world of storms,

And a quiet reach like a remembered breast,

In a haven of safety and splendid soft repose

One could drink life back in streams of honey-fire,

Recover the lost habit of happiness,

Feel her bright nature's glorious ambiance,

And preen joy in her warmth and colour's rule.


About the bird-image, Sri Aurobindo writes: “A bird is a very frequent symbol of the soul, and the tree is the standing image of the universe—The Tree of Life.” And again: “The bird is a symbol of the individual soul.”


And about the symbol: “A symbol expresses… a living truth or inward vision or experience of things, so inward, so subtle, so little belonging to the domain of intellectual abstraction and precision that it cannot be brought out except through symbolic images—the more these images have a living truth of their own which corresponds intimately to the living truth they symbolise, suggests the very vibration of the experience itself, the greater becomes the art of the symbolic expression.”


In a specific context, he wrote to Nirodbaran: “A living symbol and a mental allegorical symbol are not the same thing. You can’t put a label on the Bird of Marvel any more than on the Bird of Fire or any other of the fauna or flora or population of the mystic kingdoms. They can be described, but to label them destroys their life and makes them only stuffed specimens in an allegorical museum. Mystic symbols are living things, not abstractions. Why insist on killing them? Jyotirmayi has described the Bird and told you all that is necessary about it, the rest you have to feel and live inside, not dissect and put the fragments into neatly arranged drawers.” (8 August 1936)


Jyotirmayi was Nirod’s sister who wrote surrealist poetry in Bengali. Sri Aurobindo ranked her highly as a poetess. But it is at once obvious that Sri Aurobindo’s epic simile of the soul as a bird in the Savitri-passage we are seeing stands on a different level compared with the others that we have here. The details could be explored further. The Overhead élan is what brings about the greatness of the Bird-description.


The Bird-Image

As might a soul fly like a hunted bird,

Escaping with tired wings from a world of storms,

And a quiet reach like a emembered breast,

In a haven of safety and splendid soft repose

One could drink life back in streams of honey-fire,

Recover the lost habit of happiness,

Feel her bright nature's glorious ambiance,

And preen joy in her warmth and colour's rule.


This is one of the most beautiful phanopoeiac passages, supported by logopoeia, in Savitri, at once lyrical and mystic-spiritual. Let us take the third line “And a quiet reach like a remembered breast” which actually means that, the hunted bird will fly and reach a quiet wherein it has safety and soft repose, the destination ‘quiet’ as the direct object of the verb ‘reach’. Generally, Sri Aurobindo avoids inversions in his poetry, and recommends so to others also; but here is a use which is purposeful, to achieve some powerful effect, of surprise as well as of rhythmic finesse. However, it is the inner ear, and not the grammar or technicality, which is going to decide the final choice. To the strictly analytical or critical mind, the famous Johnsonian mind, ‘reaching a quiet’ may not be quite acceptable, and he will at once dismiss it as an “Asiatic” monstrosity. For him ‘quiet’ is not a physical place for a bird in flesh and blood to get to. But let us scan the line, as follows: And a qui/et reach/ like a/ rememb/ered breast/—anapaest-iamb-pyrrhic-iamb-iamb, with the wing-beat getting a lift from central pyrrhic. How clumsy it would be if it were written as “And reach a quiet like a remembered breast”, with iamb-iamb-pyrrhic-anapaest-iamb; it introduces a faltering movement in the smoothness of the flight, as if a schoolboy was watching the tired bird struggling to make up in time to its far-off nest. Shifting the anapaest from the first to the fourth place would spoil the charm, and the intensity of our bewilderment, which otherwise is present in it. It would get seriously weakened; it would even imply if the smoothly sailing marvel in the air would at all succeed in its attempt to escape, would perhaps also suggest that the “splendid soft repose” might not be splendid and soft enough for it. And how inept and awkward it would yet more be if the first line were, “as might fly a soul…”—the inversion causing total havoc to the sound-structure of the poetic utterance. Right word in the right place, mot juste, and nothing less and nothing more, the utmost economy of expression and of sound,—that unquestionably is the character of the mantric poetry. The intensity of rhythm, the intensity of substance, the intensity of vision, the triple intensity Sri Aurobindo speaks of in his Future Poetry, have to be together for the unmitigated felicity and fascination. This is what we have here.


But the mantric character of this bird-passage is of an unusual kind; it is not of the ancient Agastyan mantra. It is not a hymn of affirmation in the traditional sense, the mantra framed by the heart and confirmed or established by the mind. Sri Aurobindo writes in one of his letters that the mantra “... is a word of power and light that comes from the overmind inspiration or from some very high plane of Intuition. Its characteristics are a language that conveys infinitely more than the mere surface sense of the words seems to indicate, a rhythm that means even more than the language and is born out of the Infinite and disappears into it, and the power to convey not merely the mental, vital or physical contents or indications or values of the things uttered, but its significance and figure in some fundamental and original consciousness which is behind all these and greater.” One may put it as follows: Not the classical mantra with its dense solar luminosity, and the force of the visioning truth, and the massiveness of its hush-born chant that we have here; rather we have here the sheer overmental lyricism in the delight of light and love and life, a thing which has happened for the first time in poetry, the soul of delight taking away the anguish of the storm-tormented bird-soul, taking it to the place of perfect safety where there is the absolute security, the divine garantia. Overmental Lyricism—that’s the new gift.