Pradyumna Lover Magician and Scion of TH
Pradyumna Lover Magician and Scion of TH
Christopher r. Austin
1
1
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers
the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education
by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University
Press in the UK and certain other countries.
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc., United States of America
CONTENTS
Introduction 1
CHAPTER 1 Pradyumna, the Vṛṣṇis, and the Bhāgavatas 21
CHAPTER 2 Pradyumna in the Mahābhārata: Epic Episodes and
Ideologies 29
CHAPTER 3 Pradyumna and His Foundation Narrative in the
Critical Text Harivaṃśa 53
CHAPTER 4 Pradyumna-Kāmadeva in the Major Vaiṣṇava
Purāṇas 83
CHAPTER 5 The Jain Pradyumnacarita 111
CHAPTER 6 Late Developments of the Harivaṃśa and the
Prabhāvatī Episode 141
CHAPTER 7 A kāvya Casting for Pradyumna: The
Pradyumnābhyudaya of Ravivarman 173
Conclusion 205
Introduction
The Jains have their own versions of the Rām and MBh, which are developed
within a unique mythic structure completely alien to the original brahmin-
ical sources.1 The mythic structure is that of the triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣas, or “Sixty-
three Illustrious Men,” which includes the chain of twenty-four tīrthaṅkaras or
“Ford-Makers,” of whom Mahāvīra was the last in our world-age. According to
this scheme, often called the “Jain Universal History,” there appear on earth in
each world-age, in addition to the twenty-four Tīrthaṅkaras, twelve Cakravartin
kings and twenty-seven beings composed of nine triads: a Baladeva, a
Vāsudeva, and a Prativāsudeva—also a kind of “office” or recurring special
being in the manner of a Tīrthaṅkara or Buddha. Each time a triad comes into
the world, the same pattern is repeated: the Baladeva and the Vāsudeva are
always brothers, and they are harassed by and eventually defeat their enemy
the Prativāsudeva. The most famous of these nine triads are the eighth (Rāma,
Lakṣmaṇa, and Rāvaṇa) and ninth (Saṃkarṣaṇa, Kṛṣṇa, and Jarāsandha).2
The Jain renderings form part of an enormous mythic rescripting of Hindu
narratives that make of Rāma and Kṛṣṇa a regularly recurring pattern that runs
alongside and intersects with the lives of the twenty-four Tīrthaṅkaras of every
world-age. Kṛṣṇa and Saṃkarṣaṇa are in fact the cousins of the twenty-second
Tīrthaṅkara Nemi(nātha), or Ariṣṭanemi.
In terms of the actual texts that are governed by this triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣa
system, we may find Jain Rāmāyaṇas (usually titled Padmacaritas) focusing
on the eighth triad (these will not be discussed here), or free-standing
Harivaṃśapurāṇas focusing on the ninth triad and Kṛṣṇa’s life and generation,
such as the Harivaṃśapurāṇa of Jinasena (examined further in the following).3
Better preserved and known today are the more ambitious—indeed epic in their
own way—works that cover the whole cycle of sixty-three men, including Kṛṣṇa’s
life as only a small part. Representative here is the Triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣacaritra
112 | Pradyumna
of Hemacandra (“The Deeds of the Sixty-three Illustrious Men”) covering the
entire span of Tīrthaṅkaras, Cakravartins, and Vāsudeva triads (also examined
further later). One can therefore distinguish between Jain Harivaṃśa texts that
take the “Triṣaṣṭi” model as understood, but mainly focus on the time frame of
Kṛṣṇa’s life, and the universal Triṣaṣṭis themselves encompassing Kṛṣṇa’s life
within its treatment of all Sixty-three Illustrious Men. Finally, we must men-
tion a single text (also examined further in the following), the Vasudevahiṇḍī of
Saṅghadāsa Gaṇin, which similarly encompasses Kṛṣṇa’s life within a broader
narrative framework, although it is not that of the Triśaṣṭi. In any case, while
the Jain versions of Kṛṣṇa’s life occur in a variety of textual formats, there is a
consistency to the basic preoccupations and fundamental plot elements. It has
been suggested that this Jain Kṛṣṇa tradition may date back even prior to the
split of the Jain community, perhaps to the third or second century bCe (Jacobi
1888, 494; Alsdorf 1936a, 116–122; De Clercq 2009, 418), although no source
survives from that time. It is also possible that this tradition began once a shift
of the Jain community from Magadha to the Mathurā region had taken place
in the Mauryan and Śuṅga period (Jaini 1993, 209).4
Pradyumna becomes one of five major concerns in these various Jain
sources rescripting Kṛṣṇa’s life. The other four are the biography of Kṛṣṇa it-
self, the life of the Pāṇḍavas and select scenes of the Mahābhārata story, the am-
orous adventures of Vasudeva (Kṛṣṇa’s father), and of course the life of Kṛṣṇa’s
cousin, the Tīrthaṅkara Nemi. Following the designation of many colophons,
I will refer to this distinct Pradyumna cycle as the “Pradyumnacarita.”5 I ex-
amine five Pradyumnacaritas here6—three Sanskrit, one archaic Māhārāṣṭrī,
and one Apabhraṃśa—which range from before the sixth century Ce to the
twelfth century, all of them revealing quite a consistent treatment of the
life and adventures of Kṛṣṇa’s son: the Vasudevahiṇḍī of Saṅghadāsa Gaṇin
(82.8–109.25, hereafter Vas),7 Harivaṃśapurāṇa of Jinasena of Gujarat (43 and
47–48, hereafter Ji),8 Uttarapurāṇa of Guṇabhadra (72.1–177, hereafter Gu),9
Mahāpurāṇa Tisaṭṭhimahāpurisaguṇālaṃkāra of Puṣpadanta (91–92, hereafter
Pu),10 and Triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣacarita of Hemacandra (8.6.110–263; 8.6.379–
8.7.133, hereafter Hm).11 All of these point to a uniform Jain tradition of story-
telling concerning Pradyumna, the differences being of detail, emphasis, and
sequencing. My method here will be to distill and present the fundamental
thread of the Pradyumnacarita shared across these five sources—being careful
to note, however, significant variations and details of particular sources as they
occur. All of these texts in some measure or another bind together the life of
Kṛṣṇa, the Pāṇḍavas, and certain elements of the Mahābhārata story, the story
frame centering on Vasudeva’s amorous conquests, the Pradyumnacarita, and
the life, renunciation, and liberation of Neminātha. With the exception of the
Vas, all of these episodes and characters are understood against the backdrop
of the massive cycle of Sixty-three Illustrious Men. There can be little doubt
that the Vas is the oldest of the five, and that it remained in some measure
or other a model for subsequent Jain narratives concerning Kṛṣṇa and the
Mahābhārata. But it will be impossible, and in any case immaterial to our basic
Once again I will present the basic common thread of the Pradyumnacarita
shared in these five sources. The fundamental structure of the Pradyumnacarita
is as follows (the division into seven is not native to the sources but a device
of my own):
1. Rivalry of Rukmiṇī and Satyabhāmā, conception and birth of Pradyumna
and Bhānu13
2. Abduction, rescue, and early life of Pradyumna14
3. Intervention of Nārada and fore-birth narratives of Pradyumna and
others15
4. Sexual overtures of Pradyumna’s foster-mother16
5. Conflict with foster-brothers and lābhasthānas, or “stations of acquisition”17
6. Return to Dvāravatī, boorish pranks, mock abduction of Rukmiṇī18
7. Pradyumna’s relationship with his half-brothers by Jāmbavatī and
Satyabhāmā.19
This material is shared across all five sources, with certain elements occasion-
ally varying, for example the fore-birth narratives, which Gu and Pu place first
in the sequence. All five sources build the story through embedded narrative
dialogues and multiple time frames of past/present life cross-referencing, and
so I have followed the basic sequence by which the majority (Vas, Ji, and Hm)
are structured.
114 | Pradyumna
All five sources play upon the rivalry between the two wives, stressing
Satyabhāmā’s pettiness (e.g., īrṣyāśalyakalaṅkitā, Ji 43.14) and Rukmiṇī’s virtue,
although Rukmiṇī is not above competing with Satyabhāmā to see who can
bear a son first to Kṛṣṇa. The stake in this wager is hair: she whose son is
born first will enjoy, on the day of the boy’s wedding, seeing the hair of the
loser cut off. Vas, Ji, and Hm raise the stakes on the wager with a promise
from Duryodhana that his daughter will marry whichever of the two sons
is born first (Vas 82–83; Ji 43.20–21; Hm 8.6.114–115). In time, Rukmiṇī and
Satyabhāmā do give birth to boys. In Ji, Gu, and Pu, this happens simultane-
ously,20 with the determination of seniority then established in a scene evoking
MBh 5.7: when the boys are born, the women’s servants visit Kṛṣṇa to tell him
the good news. They arrive while he is sleeping, Rukmiṇī’s servant placing her-
self more humbly at his feet and Satyabhāmā’s servant at his head. Kṛṣṇa sees
Rukmiṇī’s servant first, receives her news, and declares the boy the firstborn (Ji
43.35–38; Gu 72.157–159; Pu 92.1–2).
116 | Pradyumna
These two brother-souls have been bound together for eons through both
human and divine births. Both Dhūmaketu and Kanakamālā or Kāñcanamālā
are equally tied up in the web of karmic reward and retribution. Ultimately
the entire string of births culminates in and explains Dhūmaketu’s hostility
toward Pradyumna, as well as Pradyumna’s great virtue, good fortune, and
invincibility. This type of Jain chain-of-birth narration is often complex and ex-
asperatingly dense. At times, only a thorough knowledge of the episodes from
a lengthier source can illuminate the cryptic brevity of another. In any case, we
see here three major moments in the soul-careers of the long-time brothers
Pradyumna and Sāmba, who have been bound together in countless births.
Agnibhūti and Vāyubhūti
Agnibhūti and Vāyubhūti were brahmin brothers, the sons of Somadeva
and Agnilā. They were arrogant, proud of their Vedic learning, and hostile to-
ward Jain renunciants. On one occasion they sought out a confrontation with
a Jain sage seated in the midst of a large assembly, but were humiliated by the
nobler wisdom and virtue of the sage.25 Seeking to avenge themselves with vi-
olence, they take up weapons and are on the point of attacking the sage when
a protecting Yakṣa spirit binds them frozen with his magic powers. The boys’
parents come, distressed at the news of the boys’ paralysis. The Yakṣa even-
tually releases the brothers from their embarrassing freeze-frame pose since
they have had a sincere change of heart, and the two take up the Jain path in
earnest, ultimately dying with great accumulated virtue and enjoying a heav-
enly existence in their next birth. Their parents, however, do not embrace the
Jain path and begin to have a series of low births.26
Pūrṇabhadra and Māṇibhadra[ka]
The next human birth of the two brothers are as the princes Pūrṇabhadra
and M[a/ā]ṇibhadra[ka] in Ayodhyā/Sāketa. In this existence, Somadeva and
Agnilā, their former parents, have now been born as an outcaste and a dog.
Pūrṇabhadra and Māṇibhadra[ka] learn of the pitiable fates of their parents
from the enlightened sage Mahendra and themselves then explain to the out-
caste and the dog who they once were in the past. These two are, of course,
still suffering the bad karma accrued by their rejection of the Jain path. Now
converting sincerely, they burn off their bad karma and have better rebirths: the
outcaste becomes a deity and the dog becomes a princess. The young princess
does not know of her former life as a dog, but just as she is on her way to her
svayaṃvara, she is informed of this sobering fact by the deity, her former hus-
band (Ji 43.156, Gu 72.35, Pu 91.5) or, in a variant, by the still-living brothers,
who have been updated on her new post-dog birth-situation by Mahendra once
again (Hm 8.6.195). She renounces the world promptly. The brothers mean-
while have remained pious Jains and enjoy heavenly births again after death.
118 | Pradyumna
a “joy like that arising on the occasion of a Jina’s appearance” (prādurbhāvāj
jinasyeva pramodaḥ paramo ‘bhavat, Gu 72.71).
120 | Pradyumna
figure 5.1. Pradyumna Kumar undergoes the sixteen grufas or ordeals. Nemi
Purāṇa series, seventeenth century, Marwar, Rajasthan. Opaque watercolor on paper.
sourCe: San Diego Museum of Art.
he deceives the brothers, making them think he has gone into the water, and
they leap in on top of him, hoping to drown him. Safe on shore, he paralyzes
them underwater upside-down (Ji 47.74) and piles a mountain of rocks upon
them (Gu 72.125; Pu 91.17). Only now does Kālaśaṃvara—who, we must recall,
in these Jain accounts has never borne any hostility toward Pradyumna—attack
the boy. This battle is short (with Pradyumna clearly keeping the upper hand)
and is resolved as Nārada arrives to reveal the pacifying truth of everyone’s ac-
tual identity. The captive sons are released unharmed, and Pradyumna and his
foster-father are reconciled through Nārada’s mediation.
122 | Pradyumna
of a toddler, all the endearing scenes of his childhood such as are beloved of
every mother, but which had been denied to Rukmiṇī. Finally, to make him-
self known to his father, Pradyumna plays one final trick: a mock abduction
of Rukmiṇī. In Vas, Ji, and Hm, he actually seizes her in order to spark a con-
frontation with his father; in Gu and Pu, he uses his magic to create an illusory
Rukmiṇī to the same purpose (svavidyayā rukmiṇīrūpam āpādya, Gu 72.163).
In any case, Kṛṣṇa attacks, and of course Pradyumna holds his own against his
father. Before long, Nārada appears on the scene, just as he had done during
the battle between Pradyumna and Kālaśambara, to announce Pradyumna’s
identity, and the fight instantly becomes a joyous reunion.
124 | Pradyumna
In the course of their performance, the singers mention to the king that
they have been in Dvāravatī, and in this way Rukmin’s daughter comes to
hear of the handsome Pradyumna, for whom she instantly begins to pine (tac
chrutvotkaṇṭhitā jajñe vaidarbhī rāgagarbhitā, Hm 8.7.52), unaware of course
that he is standing before her. Pradyumna and Sāmba then win the king’s favor
by taming a wild elephant, and ask for the girl as reward. For this obnoxious re-
quest the caṇḍālas are booted out of the city, but Pradyumna uses his Prajñapti
Vidyā to return and gain entry into the princess’ quarters. In her room, he
marries and makes love to her that very night, escaping at dawn. Her family
then read the tell-tale signs that she has married and made love to someone,
but she will not speak. Her father angrily summons the exiled caṇḍālas and
gives his daughter to them in a fit of rage over her mysterious indiscretion,
inadvertently fulfilling his dismissive words to Rukmiṇī and in fact uniting
the pair who are already bride and groom. Still unaware of what has actually
transpired, Rukmin soon regrets his hasty decision and begins to grieve over
having turned up his nose at his sister’s offer. Pradyumna and Sāmba finally
reveal their true identities by performing delightful music outside the city, and
Rukmin is gladdened to find his daughter married not to the caṇḍālas but to
his nephew, whom he henceforth holds in high esteem and affection.
In the next chapter I will argue that this is no insignificant theme: Pradyumna’s
mastery of the performing arts as a deceptive tool for gaining entry into the do-
main of a hostile king and acquisition of his daughter as wife. Bound up here
is the image of Pradyumna in disguise, speaking about himself in the third
person to a would-be lover whose heart is set on him, but who does not yet
recognize him. All of this points directly to Pradyumna’s second great narra-
tive episode in Brahminical Sanskrit literature: the Prabhāvatī romance, which
we examine in Chapters 6 and 7. For the moment we must remain focused
on the Jain rendering of the Pradyumna abduction, and ask what might have
prompted them to develop the Pradyumna narrative so substantially.
Pradyumna as Kāmadeva
Pradyumna’s identity as Kāmadeva in the Jain tradition is standard and univer-
sally understood. Jinasena is perhaps most explicit (Ji 47.25):
Manmatha, Madana, Kāma, Kāmadeva, Manobhava: by these names was he
known. He was not bodiless (anaṅga) but was called Anaṅga.
126 | Pradyumna
These and other common names for the God of Love are used for Pradyumna,
and we see in the preceding episodes that Pradyumna acquires the standard
heraldry and paraphernalia of Kāmadeva (makara-banner and five flower-
tipped arrows) in the course of his adventures through the lābhasthānas (e.g.,
Pu 91.16). But in what sense exactly is Kṛṣṇa’s son the God of Love, and why
would this identity have meaning in a Jain context? This is not clear at first
glance.
Although the class of being is less well known and the classification likely
postdates our sources, Kāmadevas are in fact said to be a recurring “office” or
station in the cycle of beings that includes, more famously, the Tīrthaṅkaras,
Vāsudevas, Prativāsudevas, and Cakravartins (see, e.g., Jaini 1993, 197).
According to this scheme, there are twenty-four Kāmadevas, the first of which
is the famous Bāhubali, the nineteenth Pradyumna’s grandfather Vasudeva,
and Pradyumna the twentieth. None of the Pradyumnacarita sources invokes
this scheme, however, and it does not seem that any of the authors under-
stood Pradyumna to manifest a recurring Kāmadeva “office” in the same way
that, say, Kṛṣṇa was a Vāsudeva śalākāpuruṣa. Nor can we say that the Jain
Pradyumna is an aṃśa (portion) of Kāma, nor is he Kāma “reborn” after being
burned by Śiva. This mythology is entirely absent from Jain accounts. The
Brahminical theological commitments entailed by such terms as aṃśāvataraṇa
or avatāra are wholly rejected in Jainism.31 Absent here are any notions of
descent-incarnation, or any divine-human birth configuration—so typical of
the epics and Purāṇas—in which a deity, with an essentially stable divine onto-
logical status, takes a temporary form on earth through aṃśa descent, disguise,
or as the result of a curse, and then returns by default to his or her true identity
thereafter. In the Jain view, all souls are continually transmigrating until and
unless liberated. A god may be born as a human, but of course he does not
then return to that godly state, like a worker returning home at the end of the
day, once he has died as a human. For the Jains, then, Pradyumna cannot be,
and is not, Kāmadeva reborn. He rather is simply Kāmadeva tout court, and this
fact is always front and center throughout the Jain Pradyumnacaritas. And so
why do the Jain poets preserve his status as Kāmadeva if they reject the funda-
mental theology that permits Pradyumna to “be” the God of Love?
Alsdorf takes up this issue, claiming essentially that the Jain Pradyumna-
Kāmadeva identity is not meaningful in any way: the names of Kāmadeva in
the Pradyumnacarita sources are, according to him, nothing more than a me-
chanical carry-over from the Brahminical sources (Alsdorf 1936a, 111). I would
argue, however, that it is not a blind retention of epithets that we see in the
Jain Pradyumna-Kāmadeva identity. Rather, the Jain Pradyumna both is and
is not an exemplary Kāmadeva, and a certain two-handed deployment of this
status makes possible a complex response to the Brahminical narrative and the
values it encodes.
In one sense, Pradyumna is the impossibly attractive, paradigmatic male
beauty. In describing his effect on Kanakamālā, the Jain authors participate
in the widespread literary conventions for describing the experience of lust,
128 | Pradyumna
This two-handed manipulation of stock-material, whereby the Jain
poets play both sides of the erotic, is not unheard of. In his analysis of the
Cīvakacintāmaṇi, a ninth-century Ce work of the Tamil Jain Digambara
Muni Tiruttakkatēvar, James Ryan (1998) addresses the issue of the Jain
tradition’s handling of literary conventions celebrating love and carnal pas-
sion. Particularly in the Tamil region, where the Akam love-genre so vigorously
informed the cultural imagination of the literate elite, such conventions could
not be ignored, even by a Digambara renunciant. Ryan shows, however, how
Tiruttakkatēvar participates fully in the genre, displaying mastery and com-
mand of often very explicit erotic imagery, all the while weaving in a persistent
theme of poison in association with women and the erotic. He thus created
exemplary love-poetry while communicating an orthodox Digambara view on
the dangers of love, women, and the pleasures of the body:
To retain his fidelity to the Jain creed and at the same time fulfill the assignment
he had taken for himself was no mean task. His solution was to present a work
that was so suggestive and rawly graphic that it turned sexuality against itself. By
a constant and empty parroting of the imagery of the love tradition, he created
what amounts to a skillfully poisonous parody. Thus, he on one hand could be
viewed with awe by the mythical Caṅkam poets themselves who could only ap-
plaud his clear evocations of the Akam tradition. On the other hand, the Jains
could only praise him because he had once again shown the poisonousness of
lust in epic fashion.
(Ryan 1998, 80–81)
Ryan reminds us how fully Jain literature can, and did, participate in the larger
conventions, concerns, and preoccupations of the Brahminical or non-Jain
world without yielding to the religious and moral values that may inform it.
Both Tiruttakkatēvar and the authors of the Pradyumnacaritas knew how to
communicate Jain values across, and by means of, widely recognized figures—
whether poetic or mythic—originating within largely Brahminical circles. In
the hands of a Brahmin Paurāṇika, Kāmadeva can act as a cultural-poetic and
moral-religious symbol for the celebration and contemplation of the positive
role of sexuality, passion, and even (when Kāma takes the form Kṛṣṇa’s son) vi-
olence, all of which have their place and purpose. But in the Jain accounts, this
same figure—and he must be the same figure if the narrative spin is to have
any punch to it—becomes the ideal means for a subversion of those values.
Sexuality and sexualized women here are the enemy, not the prize or badge of
manhood and honor. The boy exemplifies the proper response to the perverse
and dangerous feminine, refusing her advances and maintaining a steady
moral compass.
130 | Pradyumna
Here the true mother and her natural maternal affections are cast against
the unnatural longings of Kanakamālā, who had actually witnessed these
charming boyhood scenes, but lusted after her foster-son all the same. Pu, in
particular, contrasts Kanakamālā’s maternal affection with her later lust: she
who had picked the boy up from the mud, dried his tears, sung him to sleep,
and so on, now desired him sexually—such are the dangers of love (Pu 91.11).
And so in the Jain sources we find more echoes or traces of the dynamics
concerning mothers and male children we have discussed earlier in connec-
tion with the work of Kakar and Kurtz. As with the generic consensus about
the nature of women, the rudimentary dynamics of psychosexual family life
in South Asia precede ideological articulation as Brahmin, Buddhist, or Jain
and can then be conjugated into the more particular terms of Jain values—in
this case, those concerning the dangers of sexuality and embodied existence,
neither of which is nearly as problematic in the Brahminical context as they
are in the Jain. Traditional Jain renunciant literature never tires of delivering
shocking revelations of incest and murder, whereby deluded characters come
to understand the awful truth about karma and its horrifying implications
about their past and present lives (Granoff 1995, 412). This literature does not
celebrate sexual vigor, virility, and the maintenance of a healthy patriline. It
seeks rather to inspire the renunciation of sexual and domestic activity, often by
reminding its male readership of the evils of women and the sickening truths
of karmic retribution and the claustrophobic proximity of souls, who might
be parent and child in one life and lovers in the next, or even worse—both in
the same birth.33 The Brahminical Pradyumna confronts head-on and resolves,
through his double sex-and-violence triumph over Māyāvatī and Śambara,
powerful anxieties and tensions besetting mothers, sons, and fathers. The Jain
Pradyumna escapes the clutches of the evil and sexualized mother figure and
learns at the feet of some pious monks (Ji 47.60–62; Gu 72.79–81; Pu 91.11)
about the karmic causes that have brought her to this low state. Enlightened
to the truth of things by Nārada and especially by this group of celibate male
authorities, he soon returns to his true mother, and quite literally to an infan-
tile state when performing his little nursery magic show for her.
If there is any doubt that the Jain authors were consciously responding to
and subverting the Brahminical Oedipal dynamic of HV 99, we have only to
remember how Pradyumna chooses to reveal himself to his true father: by
mock-abducting Rukmiṇī and fighting briefly with Kṛṣṇa over her. This playful
gesture points back directly to the social-sexual anxieties that drive the HV
99 narrative, and underscores the Jain response thereto in which Pradyumna
resolves the tension, rejects Kanakamālā completely, and makes a joke of such
a mother-son relationship, pointing up its perversity. This is, in fact, what the
entire Jain account of Pradyumna itself achieves. The perverse feminine and
her wayward sexuality are rejected, and the safe maternal feminine has been
reclaimed with a clever and defused mock-abduction that even Kṛṣṇa finds
amusing (Pu 92.3). The figure of Nārada ties this farce back to the initial scene
of actual conflict and danger: he intervenes in both cases, revealing the true
132 | Pradyumna
laugh over this whole Oedipal drama, mock-abducting his biological mother
yet again in Dvāravatī. This time, of course, he is not driven by karma or kāma,
but rather makes a caricature of the whole affair once he is safely on the far
side of the divide separating deluded and karmically driven souls from those
destined for liberation in this lifetime. In a way that almost resonates with
what we have said above about Kṛṣṇa, Pradyumna, and kāma in the BhP, by
being Kāma himself now, Pradyumna is the last soul on earth susceptible to
passion. Women, even his foster-mother, may fall at his feet in passionate
longing, but he is now the absolute master and embodiment of desire and as
such can never again be its victim.
Clearly the fore-birth materials serve to flesh out the “why” of Pradyumna’s
experience. But it is important to recognize how they allow the Jain poets to
construct Pradyumna’s heroism and to turn the Pradyumna story on its head,
pointing in quite the opposite direction that Kṛṣṇa points at the conclusion
of HV 99: the boy is not a hero because he reclaimed, through his great sex
appeal and virile power, his rightful identity as lover and husband of Rati, but
because he finally took total mastery of the destructive powers of love and de-
sire themselves, which are so dangerous that they might lead a mother and son
into a sexual encounter. Even in his lifetime as Madhu, Pradyumna had already
begun this moral battle. The Brahminical Pradyumna conquers Māyāvatī sex-
ually, regaining his past-life wife thereby; the Jain Pradyumna takes absolute
control over a sexuality hounding him from past existences and so in the
end is able to attain liberation under the Tīrthaṅkara Nemi. Thus both the
Brahminical and Jain accounts depend upon and make reference to past lives
in their construction of Pradyumna’s heroic nature. In so doing, they each
make very different comments about the proper place of love and desire in
human experience.
134 | Pradyumna
Joseph, Potiphar’s Wife, and the Chaste Youth Motif
The biblical Joseph story does indeed share a few crucial motifs with the
Pradyumnacarita. Alsdorf gestures toward this very briefly (Alsdorf 1936a,
111) but does not pursue it.36 Joseph falls into a rivalry with a group of brothers;
he is thrown into a pit by them, and later into jail, but in a sense turns these
threats to advantage, and most distinctly, the handsome young man resists
the attempted seduction by Potiphar’s wife, is therefore unjustly charged by
her with attempted assault, and he is consequently imprisoned. He eventually
rises again to prominence and enormous power in Egypt due to his pious and
virtuous nature, and his special ability to interpret dreams.
There is no question that the tale manifested itself in various ways in the
subsequent Abrahamic tradition (Goldman 1995), and likely has roots in an-
cient Egypt (Yohannan 1968, 10–14), and of course has many well-known
echoes, if not variants, such as the Phaedra-Hippolytus-Theseus myth. While
the motif of men resisting the sexual advances of women, even step-mothers,
might be a universal one, requiring no hypothesis of communication or deri-
vation from one narrative source to another, a convincing case has been made
for doing so and for placing this story cycle in a larger network of world liter-
ature, including South Asian (Yohannan 1968, 231–246). The literature I have
reviewed here is not disconnected from this network, although Yohannan
136 | Pradyumna
understood thereby. Tiṣyarakṣitā is burned alive by Aśoka for her deed. The
tale is not a close match for the Pradyumnacarita, but the basic step-mother
motif is there, as is that of the performer in disguise gradually revealing him-
self, which is found in Hm and which will dominate our study in Chapters 6
and 7. And one conspicuous detail of this Kunāla legend betrays some com-
munication with Jain narrative, however indirect: the name of Kunāla’s wife
is Kāñcanamālā.
A second Buddhist example noted by Bloomfield is the Mahāpadumajātaka,
in which the Bodhisattva, named Paduma, must suffer the usual encounter: he
is approached by his step-mother; he rejects her and she scratches herself and
charges him with assault. In his rage, his father throws him off a cliff, but
supernatural powers intervene and he eventually becomes an ascetic. The
Buddha relates this former birth of his in order to account for the fact that
a woman named Ciñcamāṇavikā, working on behalf of those hostile to the
Dharma, has attempted to bring dishonor to the Buddha by feigning preg-
nancy and saying that the child is the Buddha’s. While this Jātaka has nothing
to do with the Ghaṭa Jātaka (discussed in Chapter 1) or with Kṛṣṇa or his son,
the fact that the central character’s name is Paduma shows clearly that a certain
story tradition was circulating in which the step-mother motif was tied closely
to the name Pradyumna.
I do not wish to suggest that there is any simple trajectory from HV 99, to
the Jain Pradyumnacarita, to the Buddhist Jātakas. Whatever is happening here
is far more complex than that. Nor will I pursue further the possible place of
Pradyumna in the global tradition of amorous step-mother tales, except to say
that the likely link is the South Asian Bṛhatkathā story tradition, broadly un-
derstood, which is best represented in the Jain materials by Vas. That there is
some connection seems highly likely, and so far as I can see, Alsdorf is thus far
the only scholar to recognize this. This is chiefly because the Pradyumnacarita
is so poorly known, but surely would have been seized upon by Bloomfield
and Yohannan had they been familiar with it. I flag these issues for potential
future exploration and permit Bloomfield to have the last word on the subject.
He summarizes the common elements, found as much in Genesis as in the
Pradyumnacarita:
(1) The hero of the story is of beautiful person and character. (2) The wayward
wife is unable to resist his charms. (3) The hero rejects her overtures. (4) The
woman shams virtue, and constructs a “frame-up” which takes in her husband.
(5) Out of consequent danger, misfortune, or degradation, the hero emerges to
vindication and fortune.
(Bloomfield 1923, 166)
The Jain treatment of Pradyumna we have examined here in our five sources
is only the beginning of a Jain literary tradition that continues well into the
modern period. Even before Hemacandra composed his Triṣaṣṭi, we see
emerging discrete Jain kāvyas celebrating the adventures of Pradyumna (often
alongside Sāmba/Śāmba), all invariably following the model established in the
sources we have examined here: Mahāsena’s Pradyumnacarita (Jaina 2006) was
composed in the tenth century, before Hemacandra’s day. Thereafter came
Siṃha’s twelfth-century Pajjuṇṇacariu (Jain, 2000), Somakīrti’s fifteenth-
century Pradyumnacarita (unpublished), Ravisāgaragaṇin’s sixteenth-
century Śāmbapradyumnacaritra (Esa 1987), Śubhacandra’s sixteenth-century
Pradyumnacarita (unpublished), Ratnacandra Gaṇin’s seventeenth-century
Pradyumnacaritramahākāvya (Śūrīśvara 1997), and Vācaka Kamalaśekhara’s
seventeenth-century Pradyumnakumāra Cupaī (Shah 1978). These are only a
few examples known to me of Jain kāvyas focusing on our hero. Pradyumna
has not been an obscure figure forgotten in the shadows of the Jain Harivaṃśa
and Mahābhārata tradition, and clearly a great deal more work remains to be
done before a comprehensive picture of the Jain Pradyumna, inclusive of the
kāvya and more recent renderings, can emerge. Unfortunately such a study is
not possible here, and for the moment I can only try to digest what is signifi-
cant in the sources examined in the preceding and how all of this speaks back
to the largely Brahminical constructions of Pradyumna’s character we have
seen and will see in remaining chapters.
In one sense, I have marked out a common space in which certain
features of both Brahminical and Jain Pradyumnas operate. HV 99 and the
Pradyumnacarita equally set up the boy as a male hero who exemplifies a
proper response to the feminine. Brahmin and Jain poets alike seem to be
of one mind, at least on this point: women are deceivers and in their modes
as sexualized beings are aggressive and dangerous to masculine indepen-
dence. A total control must therefore be exerted over them and the powers
they embody. Pradyumna models this total control. But herein lies the partic-
ular Brahminical and Jain declensions of the virtue, articulated through their
handlings of the Pradyumna drama: control means, in the Brahminical con-
text, total sexual appropriation, entailing a triumphal declaration of virility and
masculine power and emasculation of the rival enemy male, from whom the
woman and her powers are taken. Or, for the Jains: total control means total
resistance to the feminine and all that she represents, and the retention of an
unshakeable celibacy and resistance to kāma, which brings about masculine
husbandry of feminine Vidyā powers.
If the Jain sources subvert the meaning and significance of Pradyumna
for the Brahminical tradition, this can only sharpen, as all good foils do, our
understanding of that Brahminical understanding. I have argued particu-
larly in Chapter 3 that HV 99 encodes a complex set of social, sexual, and
138 | Pradyumna
religious values in which we see communicated a preoccupation with the fra-
gility of children and the valorization of masculine power, expressed through
the marriage of sex and violence. Operative therein, I have argued, are a set
of psychosexual anxieties concerning mothers, fathers, and sons, which are
resolved head-on in the demonic realm of the Māyāvatī-Pradyumna-Śambara
triangle, making of Kṛṣṇa’s son a very particular kind of vaṃśa-vīra and ideal
male. Pradyumna in HV 99 has his psychosexual cake and eats it too. That
the Jain authors read all of this in this way and understood the Brahminical
Pradyumna to embody just such a particular set of virtues is demonstrated
by their direct reversal of them. Puṣpadanta, Jinasena, and our other three
authors knew perfectly well how and why the Brahminical tradition celebrated
Pradyumna as a heroic character, just as they understood how and why Kṛṣṇa
and Rāma were worshipped as divinities—and they took exception. To return
to the words of Jaini from the opening of the present chapter, they sought to
set the record straight.
Pradyumna was, after all, heroic and worthy of emulation, but not because
he yielded to a perverse invitation to incestuous union, and not because he slew
his foster-father. The Jain Pradyumna, now Kāma himself—and so the last
man on earth liable to succumb to passion—rejects the psychosexual cake and
eats not a crumb of it, just as the larger Jain tradition rejects the Brahminical
valorization of desire, male sexual power, and violence, as well as the obses-
sion with male lines of descent that drive them. Earlier I have stressed, and in
the following will continue to stress even more directly, the pairing of sex and
violence, following Dhand’s observations on how the pravṛtti-nivṛtti typology
ties them intimately together (Dhand 2008, 45–53). Jains as well tie them to-
gether time and again in their cautionary tales,39 pointing of course in the
opposite direction. There is in the Pradyumnacarita no triumphant sex-and-
violence resolution of the epic-Oedipal conflict. Rather, the boy turns his back
on the perverse sexualized feminine mother figure and defuses the tension
once and for all, making a joke of it in the end as he mock-abducts the wholly
and truly maternal Rukmiṇī and fights briefly and harmlessly with Kṛṣṇa.
To be sure, Pradyumna was destined to suffer abduction and the shocking
scandal of the Kanakamālā episode because of his misdeeds as Madhu. But
his stock of merit, expiatory asceticism, and judicious recourse to enlightened
male authority steer him clear onto the path of emancipation. He consequently
enjoys a blessed existence, empowered by his Vidyā companion, and becomes
a true Vidyādhara through his underground lābhasthāna victories, which turn
the tables on his brothers’ aggression. The Jain Pradyumna, like the sea-going
Pradyumna of the Brahminical Purāṇas and like the biblical Joseph, had the
special knack of turning threat to opportunity.
The kinds of reversals we see in the narrative reflect a deeper concern on
the part of the Jain authors to respond to and reconfigure the social, sexual,
and religious values that shaped HV 99 and its Purāṇic variations. This is,
on the one hand, illuminating for us and vital to the larger task of defining
140 | Pradyumna
moment that Śiva and Pārvatī are married, or immediately before. Pārvatī occasion-
ally is the one to resuscitate him (see Doniger 1981 [1973], 155–158; she cites ŚivP
2.3.27.18–19 and 60–61, 2.2.16.30–31, and SkP 1.1.22.19–20 for this motif), or alter-
nately it may be Śiva (e.g., Skanda Purāṇa 5.3.150.30).
Chapter 5
1. On the interaction between the Hindu narratives and their Jain renderings, see
Vaishakhiya 1946; Jha 1969; Chatterjee 1973, 1973–1974; Cort 1993; Jaini 1993; Bauer
2005; Geen 2009, 2011; Couture and Chojnacki 2014; Appleton 2016.
2. This arrangement is especially baffling for those familiar with the Brahminical
myths: in the eighth triad, Lakṣmaṇa is the “Vāsudeva” and Rāma the “Baladeva.” The
Jain pattern thus does not replicate the Vaiṣṇava avatāra pattern, which we might ex-
pect would place both Rāma and Kṛṣṇa as Vāsudevas. Only Kṛṣṇa is a Vāsudeva, and
as such the triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣa system seems rather to follow the pattern established
by the name Rāma, identifying Dāśaratha Rāma and Kṛṣṇa’s brother Rāma as having
been the eighth and ninth Baladevas, respectively.
3. Alsdorf speculates that there may have been as many as twenty-seven Jain
Harivaṃśas (Alsdorf 1936a, 13 note 7), and one catalogue of Jain manuscripts
enumerates more than fifty works named either Harivaṃśapurāṇa, Nemicarita, or
Pāṇḍavacarita (De Clercq 2009, 400 and note 5).
4. A fundamental premise in Jaini’s thinking, and problematic in my view, is that
Kṛṣṇa was first a famed human hero with a story cycle known and shared by South
Asians of various religious orientations, and later was divinized into an avatāra of
Viṣṇu, at which point the Jains began to articulate their own versions of Kṛṣṇa’s life
(Jaini 1993, 208–209). There are, however, no extant sources suggesting that Kṛṣṇa
was ever simply a human hero. It is true that the classic daśāvatāra system emerges
only after the epics, but the earliest evidence we have already casts Vāsudeva Kṛṣṇa as
a deity, whether we are speaking of the Besnagar pillar or the critical text of the MBh.
5. While clearly framed within the larger life of Kṛṣṇa, Alsdorf identifies the
Pradyumnacarita as an independent narrative unit that can be treated on its own
(1936a, 12). De Clercq, however, identifies only four major preoccupations of
these Jain sources, namely (1) Harivaṃśa, (2) Pāṇḍavacarita, (3) Nemicarita, and
(4) Vasudevahiṇḍī, or amorous adventures of Vasudeva (2009, 418). The later pro-
liferation of Jain Pradyumna kāvyas (see later discussion), however, demonstrates
the currency and independence of the Pradyumna tale in Jain tradition, and strongly
suggests that Alsdorf was correct to identify the Pradyumnacarita as a self-standing
unit alongside these four other Jain epic concerns.
6. Two other Jain sources worthy of mention here are the fifth-century Ce
Antagaḍadasāo, a canonical work of the Śvetāmbaras, which relates very little in nar-
rative form concerning Pradyumna (Pajjuṇṇa), but does confirm at an early date all
the same basic biographical details established in the Brahminical sources regarding
his place in the Kṛṣṇa’s family. It also states that, along with several other of his
relatives, he became a monk at the end of his life, taking ordination under Nemi.
More substantial, and certainly worthy of closer study, were there sufficient time
and space, would be the ninth- or tenth-century Ce Apabhraṃśa Riṭṭhaṇemicariu of
Svayambhūdeva, which tells the Pradyumna narrative in Book 1, saṃdhis 10–13.
260 | Notes
7. Vas is a work in archaic Jaina Māhārāṣṭrī from before the sixth century Ce
(Alsdorf 1936b; 1936a, 35). It is possibly as early as second century Ce (Jain 1977,
27). Warder places it at roughly 500 Ce (1977, 174). Vas is not a work following
the large “Triṣaṣṭi” model, but is rather a rendering of the now lost Bṛhatkathā of
Guṇāḍhya. The principal section of Saṅghadāsa Gaṇin’s text is structured around
the wanderings (hiṇḍi) and especially amorous conquests of Kṛṣṇa’s father Vasudeva,
who corresponds to the figure of Prince Naravāhanadatta in the Bṛhatkathāślokasa
ṅgraha. The principal section or ahigāra of the Vas is preceded by four others and
followed by a concluding one, yielding six parts: (1) kahupatti, (2) peḍhiyā, (3) muha,
(4) paḍimuha, (5) sarīra, and (6) uvasaṃhāra ahigāras. In the second, third, and
fourth sections, the storytelling frame for Vasudeva’s wanderings is established, and
this involves Pradyumna and his half-brother Sāmba directly as interlocutors and
prompters of Vasudeva’s tale. It is in these run-up chapters to the sarīra, particularly
the second and third ahigāras, that the Vas delivers its Pradyumnacarita. Overall,
then, the Vas represents a different tradition of Jain storytelling than that of the
Sixty-three Illustrious Men cycle, although sharing with them the same fundamental
Pradyumnacarita narrative. As there exists no critically edited and complete text of
the Vas, I here lean on the studies of Alsdorf (1936a, 34–40) and Jagdishchandra
Jain (1977), which are based on a 1930–1931 publication of an incomplete Vas (Muni
Caturavijaya and Muni Puṇyavijaya, eds., Bhāvanagara: Śrījaina Ātmānandasabha)
based on twelve manuscripts. Both Jain (1977, 10, 17–28) and Alsdorf (1936a, 35 note
4; 1936b, 320 note 1) remark upon the roughness and difficulties encountered in this
edition. I have followed Alsdorf’s summary (1936a, 34–40) and Jain’s English trans-
lation (1977, esp. 159–186 and 630–657), as well as their custom of referring to the
Caturavijaya-Puṇyavijaya edition of the Vas by page and line number.
8. This is a Sanskrit work of the Digambara monk Ācārya Punnāṭa Jinasena,
completed in Gujarat in 783 Ce (Cort 1993, 191). Ji is a substantial Sanskrit work of
66 sargas, composed almost entirely in śloka, and while it is largely concerned with
the life and lineage of Kṛṣṇa, it begins with basic issues of cosmology and the de-
scription of the Jain universe (1–7), Ṛṣabha and other figures in the period of the
first twenty-one Tīṛthaṅkaras leading up to Kṛṣṇa’s father Vasudeva (8–18), a mini-
Vasudevahiṇḍī encapsulating the earlier Vas with its focus on Vasudeva’s acquisition
of wives (19–32), the birth and early life of Kṛṣṇa, Baladeva, and Nemi (33–39), and
finally Kṛṣṇa’s adult biography, including his death and subsequent fate (40–66).
It is here that we find woven in the Pradyumnacarita at sargas 43 and 47–48, with
chapters 44–46 interrupting Pradyumna’s tale with those of his half-brother Bhānu
and of the Pāṇḍavas.
9. Gu, Pu, and Hm are all “Triṣaṣṭi” genre works covering the whole cycle of
Sixty-three Illustrious Men. Gu is the conclusion of a larger work commenced by
the ninth-century poet Jinasena of Karnataka—not to be confused with our Gujarati
Ācārya Punnāṭa Jinasena, the author of Ji. This Jinasena of Karnataka had composed
in Sanskrit the first forty-two books of a work entitled Triṣaṣṭilakṣaṇamahāpurāṇa,
treating therein the first Tīrthaṅkara Ṛṣabha and first Cakravartin Bharata. Books
43–77 of this work, treating all the remaining Sixty-one Illustrious Men, were
completed by Jinasena’s student Guṇabhadra. These total seventy-seven chapters
of the Triṣaṣṭilakṣaṇamahāpurāṇa are divided into an Ādipurāṇa (chap. 1–47) and
Notes | 261
Uttarapurāṇa (chap. 48–77), with Guṇabhadra completing, in 897 Ce (Jain 1977, 3),
the final five chapters of the Ādi, and the entirety of the Uttara. We may therefore
speak of the Uttarapurāṇa of Guṇabhadra as an independent work (indeed, it has
been published as such by Pannalal Jain, 2007) which, in chapters 70–72, offers a
Harivaṃśapurāṇa treating Nemi, Kṛṣṇa, and related figures in some 1,200 verses or
so. Its Pradyumnacarita occurs at 72.1–177.
10. Pu is an Apabhraṃśawork completed in 965 Ce (Alsdorf 1936a, 2–5) in
the latter years of the Rāṣṭrakūṭa dynasty. Pu’s 102 chapters are also broken into an
Ādipurāṇa (1–37) and Uttarapurāṇa (38–102), and particularly chapters 81–92 may
be isolated as Puṣpadanta’s “Harivaṃśapurāṇa.” This covers the origins of Kṛṣṇa’s
lineage and past lives of Nemi (81–82), an integrated Vasudevahiṇḍī, as in Ji, of
Vasudeva’s amorous conquests (83), early life of Kṛṣṇa (84–86), Kṛṣṇa’s war with his
Prativāsudeva, Jarāsandha, as well as early life and renunciation of Nemi (87–89),
fore-births of Kṛṣṇa’s eight chief wives (90), and finally the Pradyumnacarita (91),
which concludes in 92 along with narratives of the last days of the Yādavas, Pāṇḍavas,
and final liberation of Nemi. It is these twelve chapters (81–92) that Alsdorf presents
in Roman text, German translation, and with very substantial preliminary treatment
of the author, his text, its precedents, and analysis of available manuscripts in Alsdorf
1936a, all of which has been extremely important for the present analysis of the Jain
Pradyumna.
11. Certainly the best-known Jain Triṣaṣṭi text, Hm is a Sanskrit work composed
around 1160–1170 Ce (Alsdorf 1936a, 29). Hm follows the common practice of dividing
the Jain universal history into an Ādipurāṇa and Uttarapurāṇa section. It is most
readily available through the English translation of Helen M. Johnson, published
by Gaekwad’s Oriental Series (Johnson 1962), which I have consulted alongside a
2006 reprint of the 1936 Ahmedabad Kalikālasarvajña edition. Hm delivers its
Pradyumnacarita after dealing with Kṛṣṇa’s young life up to the slaying of Kaṃsa
(8.5), young life of Nemi and Kṛṣṇa’s acquisition of wives (8.6.1–109). Just like Ji,
Hm’s Pradyumnacarita, beginning at 8.6.110, is interrupted with stories about the
Pāṇḍavas (8.6.264–378), and subsequently resumed.
12. Any one of these five texts may share points of fine detail with any other of
the other four sources, thus frustrating any obvious pattern of borrowing. We can say,
however, that Hm seems to draw substantially from Ji, and that Gu and Pu stand in
very close relationship, so much so that Alsdorf all but equates them. “In Auswahl,
Anordnung und Behandlung des Stoffes stimmen Pupṣpadanta und Guṇabhadra so
genau überein und unterscheiden sich so stark von allen andern Fassungen, daß sie
für Zwecke dieser Untersuchung im allgemeinen als identisch betrachtet und daher
im folgended als die Version GU/P bezeichnet werden können” (Alsdorf 1936a, 14).
Alsdorf proposes not a simple dependence of Puṣpadanta upon Guṇabhadra, but of
both upon a third, now lost source (1936a, 14). De Clercq also says of Guṇabhadra’s
Uttarapurāṇa that it “is sometimes very brief and rather obscure, suggesting that
Guṇabhadra used and adapted unknown earlier sources” (2009, 405). Finally, it is
also fair to say that, perhaps with the exception of Vas, one finds in all of these sources
passages so brief and cryptic that one can only assume the poet is referring obliquely
to a detail recorded more substantially in another source. Indeed, it is at times only
by reading one rendering of the narrative that another becomes intelligible. Finally,
262 | Notes
we should note that we are here reading Digambara texts (Ji, Gu, and Pu) alongside
Śvetāmbara (Hm) as though they represented the same community. Of course they
do not, but it lies beyond the scope of this study to nuance further the denomina-
tional differences within the Jain tradition. See De Clercq 2009, 417, on structural
differences between Śvetāmbara and Digambara renderings of Kṛṣṇa’s life and the
Mahābhārata; for a summary of how Śvetāmbara and Digambara texts recast the
Kṛṣṇa narrative tradition more broadly, see Couture and Chojnacki 2014, 165–192.
13. Vas 82.8–83.15; Ji 43.1–38; Gu 72.157–159 and 72.46; Pu 91.6; Hm 8.6.110–129.
14. Vas 83.16–25; Ji 43.39–61; Gu 72.46–61; Pu 91.7–9; Hm 8.6.126–138.
15. Vas 83.26–91.27, 85.5–91.24; Ji 43.62–223; Gu 72.62–71, 1–45; Pu 91.9–10,
91.1–6; Hm 8.6.139–263.
16. Vas 91.28–92.23; Ji 47.48–68; Gu 72.76–101; Pu 91.10–13; Hm 8.6.379–398.
17. Vas 92.24–93.11; Ji 47.28–47; 47.69–82; Gu 72.102–133; Pu 91.13–19; Hm
8.6.398–404.
18. Vas 93.12–97.4; Ji 47.83–137; Gu 72.134–169; Pu 19–22; Hm 8.6.409–493.
19. Vas 97.5–98.10; Ji 48.1–9; Gu 72.170–177; Pu 92.4–5; Hm 8.7.1–37.
20. The near-simultaneous birth of the two boys is in fact already established
in the critical HV, where Sāmba is said to be born in the month of Pradyumna’s ab-
duction: hṛto yadaiva pradyumnaḥ śambareṇātmaghātinā | tam eva māsaṃ sāmbas tu
jāmbavatyām ajāyata || HV 100.1.
21. In Ji 43.40, Gu 72.48–49, and Pu 91.7, Dhūmaketu is alerted to the boy’s
presence when his sky-going chariot is stopped dead in its aerial tracks. This is a
motif we shall see elsewhere: special people on earth seem to create “no-fly-zones” for
sky-goers.
22. Curiously, this rock (śilā) is styled “Takṣa” or “Takṣaka” (Ji 43.48; Gu 72.53;
Pu 91.7), thus seeming to invoke the famed Gāndhāran city, although why the poets
might wish to do this I cannot say.
23. Here again we have the “no-fly-zone” motif: in Vas it is said that because
Pradyumna is in his final existence and is destined to be liberated in the pre-
sent lifetime, Kālasaṃvara’s chariot cannot pass over him; in Hm, Kālasaṃvara
understands that the interruption of his flight is because a great person is impeding
it (vimānaskhalane hetur mahātmā ko’py asāu, Hm 8.6.136).
24. In Vas 83, Pradyumna wears bound upon him a ring identifying him as the
son of Vāsudeva.
25. In Ji and Hm, this wisdom is demonstrated by the recounting of yet another
past-life narrative: the Jain master proves, in front of the large assembly, that the two
brahmin brothers had been avaricious jackals in their prior existence (Ji 43.115–136;
Hm 8.6.163–172). A witness who can recall his past existence functions as the truth-
teller; the brothers are humiliated. In Gu and Pu, the sage commands his monks to
remain silent in the face of these animal-slaughtering aggressors, who are shown up
by the Jains’ superior virtue and self-control (Gu 72.6–9; Pu 91.1–2).
26. In Ji and Hm, the parents simply do not convert (Ji 43.147; Hm 8.6.177), while
in Gu and Pu, they falsely make a display of conversion in order to appease the Yakṣa,
but do not then practice the Dharma properly (Gu 72.21; Pu 91.3).
27. For reasons that are beyond me, these names directly invoke a Vaiṣṇava myth
in which Viṣṇu slays the demons Madhu and Kaiṭabha.
Notes | 263
28. In Hm (8.6.229–238), Nārada also learns about the karmic backstory of
Rukmiṇī. It covers several stages of existence and karmic retribution, but the prime
determining factor of her karmic lot as Rukmiṇī came about in an existence as a
woman named Lakṣmīvatī. Lakṣmīvatī had accidentally smeared a peacock’s egg with
kuṅkuma, resulting in the mother’s abandonment of the unrecognized egg for several
hours—sixteen ghāṭikas, to be precise. Moreover, Lakṣmīvatī then takes possession
of the young peacock once the mother returns to sit upon and hatch the rain-washed
egg. Once the bird is sixteen months old, she takes pity on the still-grieving mother
and returns the bird to her. Of course, this sets upon her the fate of having to suffer
the loss of her son for sixteen years.
29. Kṛṣṇa’s encounter with the perfume-toting kubjikā or hunch-backed woman
(HV 71.22–35) is assigned to his father Vasudeva in Jain retellings of Kṛṣṇa’s life (e.g.,
Hm 8.2.124–128; Couture and Chojnacki 2014, 217), although he does not heal her.
30. Jain articulations of women and women’s natures are of course widely varied
and by no means are wholly misogynistic or arise solely in the ascetic context. See
Sethi 2010 for a balanced review of the topic, including but not limited to the Jain
pattern of “masculinizing renunciation” (2010, 49–51).
31. For a succinct explanation of this important point see Geen 2011, 79–81.
32. Kālaśaṃvara does not even believe her claim in Vas, and he reacts violently
only to Pradyumna’s killing of his other sons (Vas 92).
33. One of the most ingeniously engineered such tale is the episode of
Kuberadatta and Kuberadattā (Granoff 1995, 415–417), which concludes with the nun
Kuberadattā’s explanation to a boy of his relation to her: he is her brother-in-law,
brother, son, grandson, uncle, and nephew, while other characters involved equally
can be said to occupy almost every family position at once due to the sickening in-
cest rooted in ignorance and lust. See also the story of Mohadattā (Granoff 2006,
152–168), which similarly reverse-engineers a horrific nuclear family drama of incest,
lust, and violence, all born from ignorance (moha-datta).
34. See also Shah 1947 and Tiwari 1974.
35. I will, however, observe, as a point perhaps for further research, that the
lābhasthāna episode—in which the boy, empowered by his accompanying goddess,
wins a number of magical items from various supernatural forces in remote caves
and corners of the countryside—also strikes me as having something of a tantric
coloring to it. Alsdorf sees the lābhasthāna episode as “eine Ausschmückung der Pr.-
Geschichte mit volkstümlichen Märchenmotiven darstellt,” (1936a, 114) but points
out as well that another Jain story, Nāgakumāracarita, has a similar tale, with its hero
likewise progressing going through various environments and acquiring magic items
(1936a, 114). All of this is suggestive of what is known as a nidhi siddhi, described by
Davidson in the following way (from an eighth-century text entitled Subāhuparipṛcchā
Tantra): “Treasure [nidhi] siddhi is the ability to find treasures in the earth. The two
kinds of treasure are human and divine. Human treasure is simply caches of gold,
silver or gems. Divine treasure includes pills, malachite, magic boots, and books;
these will allow one to fly into the sky, become invisible, run swiftly, and immediately
penetrate the content of any text” (Davidson 2002, 200).
36. Writing not of the Jain Pradyumnacarita but the Vulgate HV, Ruben (1944,
163–164) identifies in the Māyāvatī-Pradyumna-Śambara triangle echoes of the
264 | Notes
Oedipus, Joseph, Phaedra, and other myths, and comes by a short route of somewhat
haphazard associations to the Kunāla legend of the Aśokāvadāna discussed earlier.
37. See, for example, Granoff 1998, 169–172, for another Sanatkumāra tale—in
this case he is already the Cakravartin emperor and is said to be the most hand-
some male alive. In the previously mentioned scheme of twenty-four Kāmadevas,
Sanatkumāra is the seventh, even while he is the fourth Cakravartin.
38. See also Bollée 1970.
39. In his preamble to a translation of the Jain story of Yaśodhara, Hardy
writes: “The overt intention of the story is to demonstrate the consequences of hiṃsā,
a sacrificial killing of living beings for the sake of some personal benefit. The price
that will have to be paid for this turns the culprit into a victim of similar acts of
hiṃsā. . . . But behind this can also be detected another intention: to reveal the in-
trinsic connection of hiṃśā with kāma, of violence with sexual passion. Thus it is not
an accident that Yaśodhara is motivated to commit his act of hiṃsā after a traumatic
erotic experience; that time and again in his subsequent lives sex and violence go
hand in hand; and that . . . his final purification is brought about by the desire for
sexual prowess of another king” (Hardy 1990, 118).
40. Material from this chapter was presented at the Conference on the Study of
Religions of India (CSRI), Drew University, Madison, NJ, June 27–30, 2013.
Chapter 6
1. The countless late additions to the MBh generally do not exhibit much of a
concern with Pradyumna’s identity or narrative, nor indicate that those who received
and expanded the written MBh had much concern to weave his abduction narrative
back into the MBh. Surveying these * passages and appendices, we see Pradyumna
very frequently mentioned in passing, alongside other Vṛṣṇi heroes in lists of fighters
(MBh 1 App. 114 lines 9–11, 191; 2 App. 1 line 12, App. 21 lines 481, 987, 998, 1386, 1527;
4 App. 61 line 20; 7 App. 3 line 5, etc.), or occasionally referenced when Kṛṣṇa’s deeds
are related (such MBh * passages and appendices often betray close familiarity with
the critical edition HV material, e.g., MBh 2 *App. 21 line 1479). Occasionally as well,
Pāñcarātra passages make their way into the text, and these may place Pradyumna
in the usual emanation sequences (e.g., MBh 14 App. 4 line 1663). The tapasic con-
ception of Pradyumna, already established in the critical MBh text, also reappears in
a late addition (MBh 13 *App. 16, esp. lines 160–165). In any case, the custodians and
developers of the Sanskrit MBh clearly did not see the epic as the venue for expanding
upon the character and narrative of Kṛṣṇa’s son—the HV was rather the proper place
for this work.
2. bahūn samāhṛtya vibhinnadeśyān kośān viniścitya ca pāṭham agryam | Vulgate
MBh Ādiparvan introduction 6 (Kinjawadekar 1936).
3. An arbitrary criterion of size (approximately 25 lines or so) is the only thing
distinguishing * passages and appendices: Vaidya’s shortest appendix is 23 lines
(App. I 28), while the longest * passages are rarely more than 20 lines.
4. We also find a number of minor episodes where the post-critical edition
poets have brought Pradyumna into their embellishments of the text. I will not detail
all such small additions involving minor references to Pradyumna. Two, however,
bear mentioning. The first is App. I 24, the “Āhnika” prayer uttered by Balarāma.
Notes | 265