The Conference of the Birds

Probably the best-known work of the Sufi poet Attar of Nishapur is Manṭiq-uṭ-Ṭayr, called in English the Conference of the Birds. In it, birds from all over the world hold a conference to decide which of them should rule all the others. They turn to the wisest of the birds, the hoopoe, for advice. The hoopoe says they should go and ask the Simurgh. The Simurgh (pictured here) was a legendary bird of Persian mythology, like the phoenix. Attar makes its name a pun, because the phrase sī murğ means "thirty birds" in Persian. You'll see why this is significant.

The hoopoe tells the birds that to each the Simurgh they must cross seven valleys:

1. Valley of the Quest, where the Wayfarer begins by casting aside all dogma, belief, and unbelief.

2. Valley of Love, where reason is abandoned for the sake of love.

3. Valley of Knowledge, where worldly knowledge becomes utterly useless.

4. Valley of Detachment, where all desires and attachments to the world are given up. Here, what is assumed to be “reality” vanishes.

5. Valley of Unity, where the Wayfarer realizes that everything is connected and that the Beloved is beyond everything, including harmony, multiplicity, and eternity.

6. Valley of Wonderment, where, entranced by the beauty of the Beloved, the Wayfarer becomes perplexed and, steeped in awe, finds that he has never known or understood anything.

7. Valley of Poverty and Annihilation, where the self disappears into the universe and the Wayfarer becomes timeless, existing in both the past and the future.

The birds quail*, because they cannot imagine going through these valleys. Attar, of course, is trying to take his readers through the necessary stages of asceticism and purification that are the hallmarks of Sufism.

Some of the birds die of fright at the hoopoe's announcement. The rest start the journey anyway, but many don't make it due to hunger and thirst, or heat, or wild animals. Some just give up.

Finally, only 30 birds reach the Simurgh, to discover that they are the Simurgh, and that traversing the seven valleys has caused them to achieve success and become the pinnacle that they sought.

Although Attar wants the story to be entertaining, it became famous because of the symbolism that leads the reader through the stages to achieve enlightenment.

It would be difficult for a medievalist reading about this to not think about another poem in which all birds gather together, although their purpose for being together would be appalling to Attar. Next time we'll talk about Chaucer's Parliament of Fowls and the first recorded reference to a holiday that generates $10 billion in sales each year.

*Yes, that's an avian pun.

Pharmacist Turned Poet

Although little is known of his personal life, and he was not famous in his own lifetime, the Sufi poet known as Attar of Nishapur (c.1145 – c.1221) is commemorated in a National Day of Attar Nishapuri on 14 April. From rare contemporary comments and later mythologizing, here is what we think we know about him personally.

His full name was Abū Ḥāmid bin Abū Bakr Ibrāhīm. Born to a chemist, he was highly educated and became a pharmacist ("Attar" means "apothecary"), in which profession he attended to numerous patients. His patients would confide their troubles in him, which affected him deeply. Abandoning his profession, he traveled widely, meeting many people but especially Sufi philosophers, finally returning to his home town of Nishapur where he promoted Sufism, a religious practice found within Islam which is characterized by a focus on Islamic purification, spirituality, ritualism, and asceticism.

(By the way, Nishapur produced another famous Persian poet I have talked about in this blog, who died not many years prior to Attar's birth: Omar Khayyam.)

Attar wrote lyrical poems representing Islamic mysticism, biographies of famous Muslim mystics, and a few philosophical works. Although mentioned by contemporaries, he was not well-known in his lifetime, but some of his works survived so that they could be promoted in the 15th century. It is possible that he was "discovered" because of a comment by Rumi:

"Attar was the spirit,

Sanai his eyes twain,

And in time thereafter,

Came we in their train."

In another poem, Rumi wrote:

Attar travelled through all the seven cities of love

While I am only at the bend of the first alley.

The ideas infused in Attar's poetry reflect Sufi ideas: the soul is bound to the body and awaits its release to return to the source of spirit. This reunion can be attained in this life through purification and asceticism. He draws on many older works and history to explain his ideas.

In April 1221, Mongols invaded and slaughtered many in Nishapur, including the 78-year-old Attar. A mausoleum in Nishapur was built in the 16th century (pictured above is the mausoleum after a 1940 renovation).

His most famous poem is called (in English) The Conference of the Birds. I'd like to share it with you tomorrow.

The Persian Connection

Yesterday's post, "This Too Shall Pass," tells about a particular poem from the Exeter Book with the theme that sorrowful occurrences eventually pass away, so things get better. The saying "This too shall pass" is familiar to English speakers.

On 30 September, 1859, Abraham Lincoln used this expression while addressing the Wisconsin State Agricultural Society when he said:

It is said [redacted] once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: "And this, too, shall pass away." How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction!

Seems straightforward, and yet it's now time to reveal the [redacted] portion. The words I left out are "an Eastern monarch." Huh? Why not the Western European source of the Exeter Book? One of the earliest translations into Modern English of passages from the Exeter Book was in 1842, the Codex Exoniensis by Benjamin Thorpe. Deor was included, but it seems clear that Lincoln (although widely read) did not get his theme from this work on Old English poetry.

It is likely that he got it from a more popular author, Edward FitzGerald. Known more as the author of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, FitzGerald had published a retelling of an old Persian fable, Solomon's Seal, in which a sultan requests of Solomon a motto for a signet that would be useful in both adversity and prosperity, and Solomon offers "This also shall pass away." The story also appears in Jewish folklore, where sometimes Solomon is the king who requests a motto.

Lincoln may have got it from Blackwood's Magazine (1817 - 1980), a British periodical that was also distributed in the United States and featured American authors. An early English appearance of this tale appeared in Blackwood's in 1848.

Ultimately, the saying's origin has been traced to Persian Sufi poets such as Rumi, Sanai, and Attar of Nishapur. In fact, Attar (c.1145 – c.1221) may be the earliest source, and we'll check him out tomorrow.