"The snake"; or, "the acrobat": Jataka 43

In Jataka 43 we find the following verse:

One who does not follow advice when instructed
by an ally who desires their good,
ends up destroyed
like Veḷuka’s father.

  • For Pali geeks, the only tricky bit in the verse is in the third line, where we find seti, which normally means “lies down”. Here, however, it is sa + eti in the sense “he comes (to such a state)” i.e. “becomes” or “ends up”.

Obviously this alludes to a story that would have accompanied the verse when told. It’s part of a series of three Jatakas (41, 42, 43) that share the first two lines.

Here is the story:

https://ancient-buddhist-texts.net/English-Texts/Jataka/043.htm

And the word commentary:

https://ancient-buddhist-texts.net/Texts-and-Translations/Jatakagathavannana/043.htm

Now, one of the interesting things about the Jatakas is their composite nature. The verses and stories go together, and frequently, as here, the verse makes no sense without a story. However, we know from other Buddhist texts that when a verse or saying (or Vinaya rule for that matter) is supposed to be attached to a story, it is not necessarily attached to that story. The same verse or rule is commonly found in different places with different stories. So in the Jatakas, we should not assume that the story is always going to be the only one, or even the original one.

The story in this case is a popular fable. A hermit befriends a viper, keeping him in a bamboo, so that the viper is known as “Veḷuka” (from veḷu, “bamboo”). So attached does he grow that he becomes known as the viper’s father. His comrades warn him that the snake will turn on him, but he insists it is his friend. One time he has to leave for a few days, and when he returns the hungry viper strikes him and he dies.

The story in Pali has a few morals.

  • Listen to advice.
  • Don’t get attached.
  • Snakes are dangerous.

But the main one emphasized in the verse is about listening to advice, and this must be the core of the verse’s story.

The Jataka story as it stands, however, seems to emphasize, rather, the dangerous nature of the viper, emphasizing that a bad creature (or person) is inherently bad and cannot change. This is a dubious message that, at the very least least, requires some contextualization.

This story is one of many Jatakas that is connected to Greek stories.

Aesop’s fable was proverbial in ancient times, and remains so in the English adage “nourish a viper in one’s bosom”. It was popularized in the song “The Snake” by Oscar Brown:

Recently it has become notorious for being read out loud by Donald Trump at his rallies. I won’t link it here, out of compassion for y’all, but it’s really noteworthy how he stumbles through, reading at his third-grader level, using a sing-songy nursery rhyme intonation, except for one part—when it comes to describing the snake as vicious. There he comes to life, growling out the words and repeating them.

It has been often pointed out that this performance is an act of narcissistic projection: he is the snake, and the gullible fools are his own followers who let him in. But his surface intention is that immigrants are the snake, and the other party are the kindhearted fools who will be bitten. The fact that he is using the words of a black activist to demonize people of color is, of course, entirely on brand.

We are now seeing the direct results of this hateful rhetoric in the US. A vile old lie about immigrants eating cats was pushed by a leader of the Nazi group Blood Tribe, and spread by a woman who now is consumed by guilt at her carelessness. It was taken up by Trump and his cronys who knew they were lying. As a direct result of this, in the town in question, Springfield, schools and universities were shut down over bomb threats while Nazi thugs roamed the streets.

How can it be, one might wonder, that a Buddhist story can come to such an end? That would be a complex journey to trace, but Wikipedia notes that the use of the story to demonize immigrants stems back to 19th century Russia:

The Russian fabulist Ivan Krylov, who often used La Fontaine’s fables for a variation of his own, adapted the story to address contemporary circumstances in his “The Peasant & The Snake”. Written at a time when many Russian families were employing French prisoners from Napoleon I’s invasion of 1812 to educate their children, he expressed his distrust of the defeated enemy. In his fable the snake seeks sanctuary in a peasant home and pleads to be taken in as a servant. The peasant replies that he cannot take the risk, since even if it is honest about its kindness, a single kind snake will set the precedent for a hundred wicked ones to enter.

The root of the problem is the attribution of particular qualities to people or groups of people. As we have seen, that is not the main moral of the Jataka story, although it is suggested in it. Don’t forget, though, that in India, then as today, there are lots of literal snakes that literally kill people, and it is quite likely the original sense was simply a warning to beware of dangerous animals. As stories are repeated, it becomes possible to abstract their meanings by way of metaphor. But the way that metaphors are extended tells us much about the one doing the extending, and little about the original story.

As so often with these stories, it is not exactly clear whether it originated in the Greek or Indian cultural sphere (or somewhere else). We can say with some confidence that the high incidence of shared stories in the Jatakas reflects the trade between India and Greece/Rome after Alexander. The Jataka collection itself hints at this, as the first chapter is stories about merchants.

The verses may well be older than the stories, and in some, perhaps many, cases, even older than the Buddha. After all, they are said to come from a time before the Buddha. Verses from such an old date, however, are less likely to reflect shared Greek forms, although they could have been originated earlier and taken to Greece later. But this seems unlikely in this case, as the story was proverbial in Greece before Alexander.

So then, let us ask what we can say about the verse itself.

We know:

  • the theme is the danger of ignoring good advice
  • a protagonist is “veḷuka’s father"
  • the protagonist meets a bad end

That’s about it. Nothing about a hermit or a viper.

Now, veḷu means “bamboo”, and a veḷuka is typically a bamboo worker of some kind. Later Hindu texts said they were a low caste.

There are many words for bamboo in Pali, and one of the others features in SN 47.19. There we meet the “bamboo acrobat of the corpse-workers” (caṇḍālavaṁsika). Evidently there was a tradition of “corpse-workers” (caṇḍāla, the most despised of all castes) doing acrobatic tricks on the street.

Being a Buddhist text, the story does not denigrate the acrobats, but rather praises them for wisdom and harmony as an example for meditators. They can do their trick safely because they listen to each other’s good advice as they balance on the bamboo pole.

(And yes, this does mean that Buddhist suttas contain probably the world’s earliest reference to pole-dancing. The connection is not arbitrary. In the story, the apprentice Medakathālikā is a girl. The commentary tries to argue that it is a boy, evidently unable to comprehend that a girl, an outcaste girl at that, can not only speak back to their teacher, but the Buddha praises her for it. Although the Buddha evidently appreciated their skill, it seems that the sight of a girl—probably naked or near-naked—contorting on a pole was considered inappropriately erotic for monks, as suggested by the fact that this is one of the banned performances at DN 1:1.13.2. I’ll bet you didn’t have “the Buddha was canonically a fan of pole-dancers” on your bingo card this morning!)

This seems like a good match for our Jataka verse.

  • Where the Jataka verse has veḷuka, the story has the synonymous vaṁsika.
  • Both contexts highlight the importance of listening to good advice.
  • The story features a master/apprentice relationship, where the apprentice could easily be the master’s child. Thus it fits the use of “father” better than the snake story.

Of course the narrative is inverted, as in the sutta the acrobats are safe, whereas in the Jataka he dies. But both assume that the acrobatics were dangerous and required care and cooperation.

In such cases, we can’t conclude without stronger evidence whether the verse should be read in light of SN 47.19 or with its traditional story. Personally I think it’s more likely about acrobats. If I was to follow this, I would translate the last line, “like the acrobat’s father”.

But it does give me pause as a translator. I tried translating the title as “The viper in the bamboo” until I realize there’s no viper in the verse. Better to avoid implying a connection with the story unless it is justified.

And in terms of historical provenance, it seems that we cannot assume from a Greek connection with the story—of whatever kind that may be—to a similar connection with the verse. Rather, the verse, if it is about acrobats, alludes to an indigenous Indian cultural practice that must have originated in a local story.

More importantly, this shows the dangers of reading morals from ancient scripture. Such tales, and the moral lessons they impart, would have been told and passed down by a teacher, in a context, where the meaning and intent was made clear. When we strip a text of its context, it is easy to read it in a way that its creator would find abhorrent. If we lack any morality or sense of decency, we will turn even a simple parable into an instrument of evil.


For a detailed list of connections, see GREEK MOTIFS IN THE JATAKAS, Merlin Peiris:

https://www.jstor.org/stable/23730784?seq=15

And on the author:

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???

???

I should stop checking these boards before having my morning coffee. :laughing:

On a side note, viper’s story reminds me of the “Scorpion & the Toad” story: In the story, a scorpion asks a toad to carry it on its back across the water, toad agrees and scorpion stings the toad on the water, killing them both. He says something like “Bro idk that’s my nature I do this stuff.”

From Wikipedia:

A likely precursor to The Scorpion and the Frog is the Persian fable of The Scorpion and the Turtle , which appears in a number of Persian texts from the late 15th century. These are the Beharistan , written in 1487 by the Persian poet Jami,[7] and the Anvaar Soheili written c. 1500 by the Persian scholar Husayn Kashifi.[8] The Anvaar Soheili contains fables translated from the Panchatantra , a collection of Indian fables written in Sanskrit, but The Scorpion and the Turtle does not appear in the Panchatantra , which suggests that the fable is Persian in origin.[9][a]

The Persian / Sanskrit connection is intriguing.

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There are so many firsts in the EBTs. In the case studies to bhikkhu pārājika 2, we have what is probably the world’s first zombie story. Also, in the same section, we may have the earliest kidnapping story in world literature. In the story of the physician Jīvaka at Kd 8, we have a recorded case of brain surgery, presumably the first in the world. The Bhikkhunī-sangha may well be the world’s first attested large-scale institution governed by women. I mean, it is possible that some of these occur elsewhere in ancient literature, perhaps with the Greeks. But it is at least plausible that these are world firsts.

Or is it? It is too easy in our literate society to give preference to literature over reasonable inferences about the past. Moreover, we tend to have a linear perspective of time, which gives us a sense that we are emerging, for the first time, from the vast darkness of history. If that were true, then perhaps these literary attestations would be actual world firsts.

I think it is more likely that all these things are as old as humanity itself, in fact, as old as saṁsāra. This is what we are like, and always have been, warts and all. Our basic nature doesn’t change. We tend to give far too much preference to the present, or to recorded history, over what is a more realistic view of the world. This present bias is in fact a serious problem, which makes it hard for us to engage constructively with the past. Was the Buddha sophisticated or primitive? Are we able to relate to the Buddha as a real historical character who lived in many ways just as we do? Are we able to see, realistically, that some things may even have been more advanced at that time than they are now, such as spiritual practices and insights?

The message of re-birth and re-universes, of the deep and cyclical past, is such an important part of right view. It changes the way we think about the world in very fundamental ways.

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Oh, that’s the least of it.

Glad to be of service!

Indeed, yes.

Right, and even more in the Jatakas. First abseiling!

It’s still astonishing how when you read about any historical topic, there’s a huge gap when it comes to non-European sources. It’s just normal that when I read an article, I can easily identify Indian precursors that are at least as old and often older than what’s in the article, just ignored.

In fact this very article in Wikipedia on The Framer and the Snake is a good case in point. Even though the Jataka source is on par in age and importance to the Greek, it’s mentioned only in a cursory reference at the end of the article.

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Right. I presume you saw this?

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Yes, that’s what sparked my train of thought!

I have to admit though, in the present instance I must stand corrected:

So Wikipedia is indeed tracing the origins of pole dancing to India, dating a few centuries after the Buddha.

Early examples of mallakhamba are seen on Chandraketugarh pottery from between the 2nd century BCE and 1st century CE, where figures are shown exhibiting gymnastics by hanging on a pole like structure in the shape of a T which is held by another person.

So it seems the SN reference is indeed the first reference to pole dancing.

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This thread is giving me fond memories of my dad and uncles - who like many Indian dads living in the UK back in the day got a gentle ribbing every week from the wonderful (Indian) British comedy series Goodness Gracious Me

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The Tarantula Hawk is a real-life zombie:
A tarantula hawk is a spider wasp (Pompilidae) that preys on tarantulas. Tarantula hawks belong to any of the many species in the genera Pepsis and Hemipepsis. They are one of the largest parasitoid wasps, using their sting to paralyze their prey before dragging it to a brood nest as living food; a single egg is laid on the prey, hatching to a larva which eats the still-living host. They are found on all continents other than Europe and Antarctica. (from wikipedia)

One the one hand, this is hilarious. On the other hand, it’s why people don’t take Indian history seriously. And on the other other hand, if you attribute everything to India, sooner or later you might have a point!

Dad:

Fed five thousand people with two loaves and five fishes? Indian picnic!

From Jataka 78:

Then the Lord High Treasurer poured the Water of Donation over the hands of the Saṅgha with the Buddha at its head, while his wife placed a cake in the alms-bowl of the Tathāgata. Of this he took what sufficed to support life, as also did the five hundred monks. Next the Treasurer went round offering milk mixed with ghee and honey and jagghery; and the Teacher and the Saṅgha brought their meal to a close. Lastly the Treasurer and his wife ate their fill, but still there seemed no end to the cakes. Even when all the monks and the scrap-eaters throughout the monastery had all had a share, still there was no sign of the end approaching. So they told the Teacher, saying: “Sir, the supply of cakes grows no smaller.”

Discussion here.

https://www.jstor.org/stable/27900503?seq=11

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Funny. I had an Australian for an English teacher in high school; she was also a friend of my parents, so she and her husband were often over at our place, or we were all over at their place. And she gave us the poem Snake, by D. H. Lawrence for one of our classes.

I remember her talking about how coming from Australia, snakes were significant in a way to her through her upbringing that we just don’t get in Canada (although I live in Rattler territory now, and so have had to learn new “survival skills.”). I can’t repeat her, but her whole introduction was very effective in opening up what it must be like to encounter this incredibly powerful, unpredictable, dangerous, fascinating thing.

Snake
By D. H. Lawrence

A snake came to my water-trough
On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,
To drink there.

In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob tree
I came down the steps with my pitcher
And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough
before me.

He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom
And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over
the edge of the stone trough
And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,
And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,
He sipped with his straight mouth,
Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,
Silently.

Someone was before me at my water-trough,
And I, like a second-comer, waiting.

He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,
And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,
And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused
a moment,
And stooped and drank a little more,
Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels
of the earth
On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.

The voice of my education said to me
He must be killed,
For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold
are venomous.

And voices in me said, If you were a man
You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.

But must I confess how I liked him,
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink
at my water-trough
And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,
Into the burning bowels of this earth?

Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?
Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?
Was it humility, to feel so honoured?
I felt so honoured.

And yet those voices:
If you were not afraid, you would kill him!

And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid,
But even so, honoured still more
That he should seek my hospitality
From out the dark door of the secret earth.

He drank enough
And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,
And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,
Seeming to lick his lips,
And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,
And slowly turned his head,
And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,
Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round
And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.

And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,
And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders,
and entered farther,
A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into
that horrid black hole,
Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing
himself after,
Overcame me now his back was turned.

I looked round, I put down my pitcher,
I picked up a clumsy log
And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.

I think it did not hit him,
But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed
in an undignified haste,
Writhed like lightning, and was gone
Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,
At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.

And immediately I regretted it.
I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!
I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.

And I thought of the albatross,
And I wished he would come back, my snake.

For he seemed to me again like a king,
Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,
Now due to be crowned again.

And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords
Of life.
And I have something to expiate:
A pettiness.

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Yeah. This sort of comedy can only really be made and shared by Indians We do appreciate what our fathers (and grandfather in my case - all three generations migrated to the UK at the same time in the early 60s) were attempting to do by addressing the one-sided education we, the children, were getting in school, which is subsequently lampooned in the sketches. That the Guardian/Observer article is something that needs to be written in 2024 is disappointing and it is really important that threads like this exist to help others counter the skewed history that is still endemic, even in places that should know better. So thank you.

Can I just ask, when you say ‘people don’t take Indian history seriously’, do you mean people who are predominately educated in a system skewed towards a positive version of colonial history? For me that seems to be the main problem.

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The one time I met a giant python in the jungle here in Thailand I was also struck by its regal demeanor. Only a being of power moves so slowly and deliberately through the forest. Truly a lesson in mindfulness for both halves of my brain!

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No doubt. I don’t even want to think about running into a rattler.

Thanks, I’ve not read that one before.

Indeed yes. And that certainly leaves its mark in generalist writings like in Wikipedia, which has to rely on published work.

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Just came across another one: a spiked drink! Maybe a world first.

Ja 53 tells about some rouges who try to drug (bhesajja) a rich man’s drink so they can rob him. But he sees they don’t touch their own drinks.

The cups stay just as full,
while the ignorant talk goes on.
For this reason I know
this is not an excellent beer.

It might not be an auspicious milestone, but a milestone nonetheless!

(Incidentally, surā is defined in the Vinaya as being made with grains and yeast = “beer”).

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