1.5. Примечания к Главе 1

Дэвидсон Р. М. «Индийский эзотерический буддизм: социальная история тантрического движения»

1. In Manjusrimulakalpa, Jayaswal 1934, pp. 61–66; Sastri 1920, pp. 652–653:

adhuna tu pravaksyami dvijanam dharmasilinam || 955

mantratantrabhiyogena rajyavrttim upasrita |

bhavati sarvaloke ‘smim tasmim kale sudarune || 956

vakarakhyo dvijah srestha adhyo vedaparagah |

semam vasumatim krtsnam vicerur vadakaranat || 957

trisamudramahaparyantam paratirthanam vigrahe ratah |

sadaksaram mantrajapi tu abhimukhyo hi vagyatah || 958

kumaro gitavahy asit sattvanam hitakamyaya |

etasya kalpavisaran mahitam buddhyatandritah || 959

jayah sujayas caiva kirttiman subhamatah parah |

kulino dharmikas caiva udyatah sadhuh madhavah || 960

madhuh sumadhus caiva siddho madadahanas tatha |

raghavah sudravarnas tu sakajatas tathapare || 961

te ‘pi japinah sarve kumarasyeha vagyatah |

te capi sadhakah sarve buddhimanto bahusrutah || 962

amukha mantribhis te ca rajyavrttisamasritah |

The Tibetan is found To. 543, fols. 325b7–326a7, but is unhelpful in several sections. I presume, like most translators of prophetic sections in Buddhist scriptures, that all the preterite tenses are to be interpreted as futures in the spirit of the text. Phyllis Granoff, whom I thank for corrections and suggestions to the translation of these verses, has suggested emending vakyatah of 958d and 962b to vagyatah, a suggestion I find attractive and have accepted. The Manjusrimulakalpa occasionally specifies a six-letter mantra for Manjusri (e.g., Manjusrimulakalpa, Shastri 1920, p. 49), but I have not located the specific mantra in mantra section of chapter 2 (Manjusrimulakalpa, Shastri 1920, pp. 25–32); the recitation of the six-letter mantra, om. man. i padme hu¯m. , is enjoined in the Karandavyuha-sutra, Vaidya 1961, pp. 292–296. Verse 959cd is the most difficult, and the Tibetan is only moderate assistance: cho ga rab ‘byam ‘di dag las | des ni de phan de la bsten. I have emended etasyai to etasya and buddhitandritah to buddhyatandritah, so that Mr. Va will not be an idiot. 961b is conjectural by emending siddhah namas tada to siddho madadahanas tatha, based on a lacuna in the foot and the Tibetan de bzhin grub dang dregs bral dang, although this is rather tentative improvement. Granoff has suggested that the -namas of the current text could be the end of a name, and I have taken this suggestion with the standard equivalent of Tibetan dregs = mada/matta/darpa. However, many alternatives to *Madadahana could be found, and the normative name is Madanadahana, an epithet of %iva (burner of Mada, i.e., Kamadeva); this does not fit the foot, though.

2. For the date of the Manjusrimulakalpa, see Matsunaga 1985. He points out that this chapter on the prophecy of kings identifies Gopala, who obtained kingship around 750 c.e.
3. E.g., Wayman 1977; Snellgrove 1987.
4. E.g., Skorupski 1983 and 1994.
5. Przyluski 1923, pp. 317–318.
6. Sanderson 1994, accepted by Strickmann 1996, p. 26; Sanderson’s claims are contextualized in chapter 5.
7. Snellgrove 1987; Jong 1984; Matsunaga’s “Introduction” to the Guhyasamaja tantra, pp. vii–xxxi.
8. Yoritomi 1990, pp. 130–144, proposes that the Mahavairocanabhisambodhi be assigned to Orissa on archaeological and art historical grounds, and ties the text to the political history of the Bhaumakaras; cf. Hodge 1994. Strickmann has attempted to relate the relationship between %aivism and the Buddhist esoteric system (1996, pp. 24–41). As will be clear from this book, Strickmann’s proposals were limited by his modest acquaintance with Indian history and society, and by his structuralist presumption that “tantrism” is a single entity. Thus he freely speaks of “un tantrisme taoпste” (pp. 118–126), citing sources composed before the term “tantra” became used in Buddhist circles. The majority of his work, though, is both stimulating and helpful. Samuel attempts to identify various sociological sources for “shamanic” Buddhism, but is vague on specifics of Indian history and society (1993, pp. 427–435).
9. Derrida’s hegemonic purpose is explicit (1967, p. 24).
10. E.g., see Foucault’s assessment of critical history (1977, pp. 139–168), where he projects what is apparently his own emotional turmoil into an entire discipline.
11. Dirlik et al. 2000, pp. 40–41.
12. Chakrabarty 1992, p. 223.
13. Lopez 1995, pp. 10–12.
14. Brennan 2000, King 1999.
15. Evans 1999, pp. 10, 22–23, 108, 158, 163, 214–216, 220; Murphey 1994, p. 302.
16. See Allen (2000, pp. 30–47, and passim) for the history and evolution of this term, which was coined by Julia Kristeva in her critical essays on Bakhtin.
17. Pollock 1993, p. 111.
18. Thomas C. Patterson, “Archaeologists and Historians Confront Civilization, Relativism and Poststructuralism in the Late Twentieth Century,” in Dirlik et al. 2000, pp. 49–64 passim.
19. R. A. Abou-El-Haj, “Historiography in West Asian and North African Studies Since Sa’id’s Orientalism,” in Dirlik et al. 2000, pp. 67–84, esp. pp. 70–71.
20. Evans 1999, p. 109.
21. Etlin 1996, p. 77.
22. Murphey 1994, esp. pp. 263–302.
23. King 1999, pp. 82–95.
24. B. Lewis 1993.
25. The archaeological contributions are not well represented in Kopf (1969), despite Kopf’s assessment of the sympathy with which the British “cultural brokers” stimulated the development of Indic institutions during their occupation of that country (ibid., pp. 275–291). For a somewhat extreme critique of Kopf, see King 1999, pp. 86–93. Thomas R. Trautmann has discussed this issue in the context of South Indian linguistics and history (“Inventing the History of South India,” in Ali 1999, pp. 36–54). See also Etlin 1996, pp. 114–122.
26. For a discussion of the contributions of one of the more curious characters in this process, Charles Masson, see Possehl 1990.
27. Appiah 1991. In a withering critique, Dirlik has called Western-trained, Western-employed South Asian scholars an “international babu class,” similar to the old class of British government employees in India (2000, pp. 10–11).
28. This question is frequently the field of polemics: see Inden 1990, Lopez 1995, and, for this study in particular, the recent polemical critique of Wedemeyer 2001.
29. King 1999, p. 211.
30. %atapaсcasatka, Bailey 1951, vv. 70 and 90, pp. 86, 101; *Mahayanavatara-sastra, T.1634.32.36b12–19, commenting on Catuhsataka VIII.5.
31. Pollock 1989 has discussed this issue in the context of Mimamsa.
32. Chakrabarty 1992; King 1999.
33. Pollock has suggested this direction (1993, p. 115).
34. It is unfortunate that the contribution of Petrarch and his followers is even obscure to working historians; see Evans (1996, pp. 14–17, 81), where an excessive estimate of Leopold von Rank is offered, and Foucault (1966, pp. 367–373) shows an inadequate understanding of critical history developed in the Renaissance. On humanists’ critical techniques, see Paul Kristeller, “Renaissance Humanism and Classical Antiquity,” in Rabil 1988, 1:5–16.
35. For the “mirabilia” genre, see Bloch 1982, pp. 630–636; Jacks 1993, p. 38;

Weiss 1969, pp. 6–8; Benson 1982, pp. 353–355. The Miribilia was sufficiently popular to be included entirely within two other works of the period—the Graphia aureae Urbis Romae (Description of the Golden City of Rome, c. 1155) and an administrative handbook for the Papal Curia (Liber politicus).

36. Weiss 1969, pp. 18–20.
37. Green 1982, p. 90; emphasis in original.
38. Bishop 1966, p. 7. Pfeiffer (1976) is particularly emphatic on Petrarch’s originality: “We have often been told that humanism arose from the social and political conditions of the consolidated new Italian city states; and it is true that these conditions became more and more favourable to the development and diffusion of Petrarch’s ideas. These ideas, however, originated from his own mind; they did not spring from the spirit of the society of his time of which he always spoke with contempt (‘mihi semper aetas ista displicuit’)” (p. 16). See also Maristella Lorch, “Petrarch, Cicero, and the Classical Pagan Tradition,” in Rabil 1988, 1:71–94.
39. Kelley 1988, p. 748.
40. The following material predominantly is taken from Weiss 1969, pp. 48–89.
41. Pfeiffer 1976, p. 27; Jacks 1993, pp. 67–73.
42. Jacks 1993, pp. 89–95.
43. Ibid., pp. 95–99.
44. Ibid., p. 110.
45. Weiss 1969, p. 70; Jacks 1993, pp. 113–121.
46. Kelley 1988, p. 748.
47. Ibid., p. 749.
48. The following material on Bodin is taken from Franklin 1963, pp. 59–79,

137–154; Kelley 1988, pp. 756–758.

49. Kelley 1988, p. 757; Franklin 1963, p. 69.
50. Evans attributes this to von Rank (1996, pp. 14–16, 81), but this is evidently in error, although the elaborate methodology of source criticism certainly was not known to Bodin.
51. Arif Dirlik, “Is There History After Eurocentrism?” in Dirlik et al. 2000, pp. 25–47, esp. pp. 40–43.
52. Schopen has proposed that the modern emphasis on texts is a result of Protestant presuppositions in the study of Buddhism (1991, pp. 19–23). His model, however, appears less than willing to acknowledge that both traditional (India, Tibet, and China) and modern Buddhist scholarship (Japan, China, Tibet, and Thailand) conceive of texts as preeminently important. It would seem that Buddhist studies is influenced by traditional bias of the indigenous informants more than by the values of Protestant Christianity. My experience with Buddhist scholars in India, Nepal, and Tibet has been exclusively textual, with little interest displayed toward epigraphy, archaeology, or other sources.
53. There is an almost complete absence of coins in India after the time of Harsa until the Mughal period, so numismatics—important to Petrarch—must take a subordinate position, to be supplemented to a lesser degree by the survival of clay monastic sealings.
54. Figueira 1994, pp. 7–17; King 1999, pp. 200–218.
55. Fischer 1970, pp. 74–78.
56. Dietz 1984, pp. 358–399; this letter is considered in chapter 4.